we on the outside have the honour to be their brothers. Those poor women, again, who stop to gaze upon us with delight at the entrance of Barnet, and seem, by their air of weariness, to be returning from labour-do you mean to say that they are washerwomen and charwomen? Oh, my poor friend, you are quite mistaken. I assure you they stand in a far higher rank; for this one night they feel themselves by birth-right to be daughters of Eng- 10 whole route was our reception at this place. land, and answer to no humbler title.

amongst Celtic Highlanders is called fey.24 This was at some little town where we changed horses an hour or two after midnight. Some fair or wake had kept the people up out of 5 their beds, and had occasioned a partial illumination of the stalls and booths, presenting an unusual but very impressive effect. We saw many lights moving about as we drew near; and perhaps the most striking scene on the

The flashing of torches and the beautiful radiance of blue lights (technically, Bengal lights) upon the heads of our horses; the fine effect of such a showery and ghostly illumina

laurels; whilst all around ourselves, that formed a centre of light, the darkness gathered on the rear and flanks in massy blackness; these optical splendours, together with the prodigious enthusiasm of the people, composed a picture at once scenical and affecting, theatrical and holy. As we stayed for three or four minutes, I alighted; and immediately from a dismantled stall in the street, where no doubt

Every joy, however, even rapturous joy such is the sad law of earth-may carry with it grief, or fear of grief, to some. Three miles beyond Barnet, we see approaching us another 15 tion falling upon our flowers and glittering private carriage, nearly repeating the circumstances of the former case. Here, also, the glasses are all down-here, also, is an elderly lady seated; but the two daughters are missing; for the single young person sitting by the lady's 20 side, seems to be an attendant-so I judge from her dress, and her air of respectful reserve. The lady is in mourning; and her countenance expresses sorrow. At first she does not look up; so that I believe she is not aware of our 25 she had been presiding through the earlier approach, until she hears the measured beating of our horses' hoofs. Then she raises her eyes to settle them painfully on our triumphal equipage. Our decorations explain the case to her at once; but she beholds them with ap- 30 the provinces on this occasion, was the imparent anxiety, or even with terror. Some time before this, I, finding it difficult to hit a flying mark, when embarrassed by the coachman's person and reins intervening, had given to the guard a "Courier" evening paper, 35 containing the gazette, 23 for the next carriage that might pass.

part of the night, advanced eagerly a middleaged woman. The sight of my newspaper it was that had drawn her attention upon myself. The victory which we were carrying down to

perfect one of Talavera-imperfect for its results, such was the virtual treachery of the Spanish general, Cuesta, but not imperfect in its ever-memorable heroism. I told her the main outline of the battle. The agitation of her enthusiasm had been so conspicuous when listening, and when first applying for information, that I could not but ask her if she had not some relative in the Peninsular army. Oh yes;

Accordingly he tossed it in, so folded that the huge capitals expressing some such legend as-GLORIOUS VICTORY, might catch the eye 40 her only son was there. In what regiment?

at once. To see the paper, however, at all, interpreted as it was by our ensigns of triumph, explained everything; and, if the guard were right in thinking the lady to have received it with a gesture of horror, it could not be doubt-45 ful that she had suffered some deep personal affliction in connection with this Spanish war.

Here, now, was the case of one who, having formerly suffered, might, erroneously perhaps,

He was a trooper in the 23rd Dragoons. My heart sank within me as she made that answer. This sublime regiment, which an Englishman should never mention without raising his hat to their memory, had made the most memorable and effective charge recorded in military annals. They leaped their horses-over a trench where they could, into it, and with the result of death or mutilation when they

be distressing herself with anticipations of 50 could not. What proportion cleared the trench

another similar suffering. That same night,
and hardly three hours later, occurred the
reverse case. A poor woman, who too prob-
ably would find herself, in a day or two, to
have suffered the heaviest of afflictions by the 55
battle, blindly allowed herself to express an
exultation so unmeasured in the news and its
details, as gave to her the appearance which
28 i. e. the official report of the battle.

is nowhere stated. Those who did, closed up and went down upon the enemy with suci

24 Not a Gaelic word, but an Old English word retained in the Scotch. In Old English poetry it was applied to warriors who were "doomed" to fall in battle. In its Scottish use it implies a state of high spirits and wild exaltation in the person unconscious of his doom.

26 Talavera de la Reina, at the confluence of the Alberche and the Tagus, where the English under Sir Arthur Wellesley (afterward Duke of Wellington) and the Spanish under Cuesta were attacked by the French under Marshal Victor and Joseph Bonaparte, July 27, 1809.

showed her not the funeral banners under which the noble regiment was sleeping. I lifted not the overshadowing laurels from the bloody trench in which horse and rider lay 5 mangled together. But I told her how these dear children of England, officers and privates, had leaped their horses over all obstacles as gaily as hunters to the morning's chase. I told her how they rode their horses into the mists of death (saying to myself, but not saying to her), and laid down their young lives for thee, O mother England! as willingly-poured out their noble blood as cheerfully-as ever, after a long day's sport, when infants, they

divinity of fervour (I use the word divinity by design: the inspiration of God must have prompted this movement to those whom even then He was calling to His presence), that two results followed. As regarded the enemy, this 23rd Dragoons, not, I believe, originally three hundred and fifty strong, paralysed a French column, six thousand strong, then ascended the hill, and fixed the gaze of the whole French army. As regarded themselves, 10 the 23rd were supposed at first to have been barely not annihilated; but eventually, I believe, about one in four survived. And this, then, was the regiment-a regiment already for some hours glorified and hallowed 15 had rested their wearied heads upon their to the ear of all London, as lying stretched, by a large majority, upon one bloody aceldama 26. in which the young trooper served whose mother was now talking in a spirit of such joyous enthusiasm. Did I tell her the truth? 20 been memorably engaged; but so much was Had I the heart to break up her dreams? No. To-morrow, said I to myself-to-morrow, or the next day, will publish the worst. For one night more, wherefore should she not sleep in peace? After to-morrow, the chances are too 25 the last twelve hours, the foremost topic of many that peace will forsake her pillow. This brief respite, then, let her owe to my gift and my forbearance. But, if I told her not of the bloody price that had been paid, not, therefore, was I silent on the contributions from her son's 30 regiment to that day's service and glory. I 28 "The field of blood." See Acts i. 19.

mother's knees, or had sunk to sleep in her arms. Strange it is, yet true, that she seemed to have no fears for her son's safety, even after this knowledge that the 23rd Dragoons had

she enraptured by the knowledge that his regiment, and therefore that he, had rendered conspicuous service in the dreadful conflicta service which had actually made them, within

conversation in London-so absolutely was fear swallowed up in joy-that, in the mere simplicity of her fervent nature, the poor woman threw her arms round my neck, as she thought of her son, and gave to me the kiss which secretly was meant for him.