were to be found in the hospital of the French wounded. This hospital was only forming; they were even then bringing these poor creatures in from the woods. It is impossible to convey to you the picture of human misery continually before my eyes. What was heartrending in the day, was intolerable at night; and I rose and wrote, at four o'clock in the morning, to the chief surgeon Gunning, offering to perform the necessary operations upon the French. At six o'clock I took the knife in my hand, and continued incessantly at work till seven in the evening; and so the second day, and again the third day.

All the decencies of performing surgical operations were soon neglected: while I amputated one man's thigh, there lay at one time thirteen, all beseeching to be taken next; one full of entreaty, one calling upon me to remember my promise to take him, another execrating. It was a strange thing to feel my clothes stiff with blood, and my arms powerless with the exertion of using the knife; and more extraordinary still, to find my mind calm amidst such variety of suffering; but to give one of these objects access to your feelings was to allow yourself to be unmanned for the performance of a duty. It was less painful to look upon the whole, than to contemplate one object.

When I first went round the wards of the wounded prisoners, my sensations were very extraordinary. We had every where heard of the manner in which these men had fought-nothing could surpass their devoted ness. In a long ward, containing fifty, there was no expression of suffering, no one spoke to his neighbour. There was a resentful, sullen rigidness of face, a fierceness in their dark eyes, as they lay half-covered in the sheets.

Sunday.I was interrupted, and now I perceive I was falling into the mistake of attempting to convey to you the feelings which took possession of me, amidst the miseries of Brussels. After being eight days among the wounded, I visited the field of battle. The view of the field, the gallant stories, the charges, the individual instances of enterprise and valour, recalled me to the sense which the world has of victory and Waterloo. But this was transient, a gloomy uncomfortable view of human nature is the inevitable consequence of looking upon the whole as I did - as I was forced to do.

It is a misfortune to have our sentiments so at variance with the universal sentiment. But there must ever be associated with the honours of Waterloo, to my eyes, the most shocking signs of woe; to my ear, accents of entreaty; outcry from the manly breast, interrupted forcible expressions of the dying, and noisome smells. I must show you my note books, for as I took my notes. of cases generally by sketching the object of our remarks, it may convey an excuse for this excess of sentiment.

Faithfully yours,

C. BELL.

LETTER CCXLIII.* TO HIS MOTHER.

My dear Mother,

Howick, 11th October, 1815.

You will have heard from my two companions how we proceeded on Monday. By Murray's care and contrivance, instead of a head-achy postchaise all the way to Hermiston, we had horses to mount at Dalkeith, and made a fine ride of it first to Oxenford, and then by way of Ormiston and Saltoun to Lord Gillies's. Oxen

ford is a comfortable handsome place, with almost an English look; among the rubbish of family pictures, there are some portraits of people that deserve to be cared for such as Dr. Robertson, Adam Ferguson, and Sir James Stewart. There is a sign-post image of David Hume, which gives the idea of a glutton and a blunderer. We found the Dalrymples were going to Hermiston likewise. In the way, besides Ormiston, where we saw some fine trees for Scotland, I had a glimpse of other places I had often heard of, such as Winton, Pencaitland, &c. The Gillies's were very agreeable; they have improved each other much. There are some old portraits in that house too, of the connections of the Sinclair family; the only one worth naming is a head of Mrs. Grizell Baillie, the daughter of Sir Patrick Home, whose story is so interesting and amiable. On Monday forenoon, we went out in a body, ladies and all, with greyhounds, and had what is called a good day's sport, in slaughtering eight or ten hares, and frightening as many more. After that we walked over the grounds at Saltoun, and went through the house; we had not leisure to examine the library in which old Andrew Fletcher's books are preserved, many of them (it is said) with notes of his. There is a picture of him, which interested us greatly; it is a countenance of keen and refined feeling, not without effeminacy. I have thoughts of asking permission to have a copy of it. With all his faults, he had an elevation and purity of character, rarely if at all to be found in any other Scotsman of any age who has meddled with politics. Lord Gillies gave me his carriage early next morning to go to Haddington, and Murray went with me; we got there in time for me to take breakfast before the vehicle from Edin

burgh arrived, which gave me the pleasure afterwards of a good long walk from Dunbar, while the other travellers halted. I was set down at Alnwick by six o'clock, in good time to reach this [town], which is not more than six miles off. I was glad to see Lady Grey in better looks than I expected; she is a great object of my admiration, for her beauty, and still more for her character. I shall stay here till to-morrow evening; by sleeping at Alnwick, I expect to have a good chance of a seat in the mail on Friday morning.

I have heard at full length and in the original language the old Queen's letter, of which some account has been given in the Chronicle, published there probably by her dutiful and pious son the Duke of Cumberland. It is the letter of one most seriously expecting and encouraging the person to whom it is addressed, to come over into England, with a great deal of advice how she ought to conduct herself and conform to the manners of this country. It is very hard for us to say how far royal dissimulation and artifice may be carried; but I can as little understand how the Queen could disapprove of the marriage at the time she wrote this letter, as how she can justify the inconsistency of the sentiments expressed in it, with her subsequent conduct to her daughter-inlaw. It would have been difficult too, to conceive how far thrift could be carried in the royal house of Strelitz; her present to her brother is six pounds of tea, and two cheeses.

Lord Ossulston is the only visitor here. We have had a walk with Lord Grey round the pleasure grounds, and along the sea-shore, which is bold, and I am now going to have a ride to an old castle of the Tankerville family, called Dunstanbury, which made a figure in the Wars of the Roses.

My kind love to all the two houses of Charlotte Square and Whitehouse.

Most affectionately yours,

FRA. HORNER.

LETTER CCXLIII.** TO J. A. MURRAY.

My dear Murray,

Taunton, 20th October, 1815.

If I find the Culloden papers at Bowood I will read them, and mention to you whatever strikes me. The favourable impression you have received from them of Forbes's character is a very pleasing one, and I hope you will meet with nothing to disturb it. There are so few instances of pure or elevated public virtue to be met with in the modern annals of Scotland, that it would be something gained for the country to place him in that light. It is a very rare distinction to have first purified the administration of justice in his country, and one would expect to find corresponding sentiments throughout his conduct. That union of zeal and gentleness which you speak of, is the most delightful excellence to find in the course of an active practical life. It would be right to apprize Mackintosh of there being papers at Yester, to which he could find no difficulty in getting access. Did Thomson find any thing at Saltoun that morning? I hope Mrs. Murray continues well. Give my very kind remembrances to her and Miss Murray, as well as to William.

Affectionately yours,

FRA. HORNER.

*Lord President of the Court of Session in Scotland, from 1737 to 1747.