hair so." better. I considered the face with all my might, but found myself unable to decide whether it would be improved or not, by making the braids come below her ears instead of above. Miss Ebbs has a small, pale, regular face. Its great fault to me is its insignificancy, and as braids neither make nor mend it, I said I did not see much difference. Miss Phipps insisted that it did, and so we each took a side of her head, and plastered the hair smooth nearly down to her chin. Then Miss Phipps' own came under our operations. There is more strength, though less gentility in this head. It has large features, fair complexion, and abundance of pale reddish hair. This she divides into a multitude of small ringlets, which Miss Ebbs wished to smooth down, without mercy, into a braid. Phipps would by no means part with them. Miss Ebbs told her her face would not look so large. Phippy was sure her face was small enough. Ebby said it was genteeler. Phippy said other things might be genteel besides thin white faces. Whereupon Miss Ebbs observed, she had rather be thin than fat; and Phippy retorted, it was as well for every one to be contented with what she could not improve. I fully expected the covert strife to become a declared one, but was astonished at my mistake, when Miss Ebbs answered with, “O! Miss Phipps, how well you look now! really that suits you amazingly! does it not?" I had been making three large curls on one side, as it seemed to me that best suited her rather massive style of feature. She jumped up to look in the glass, frowned, smiled, turned her head about, and ogled herself, till I decided her Both wanted to know if it did not look | wavering mind, by giving an opinion in favour of my new coiffure. She could not easily part with her ringlets, but was determined at last by the remark, that Miss Broadway had said she would begin to wear them. I asked who Miss Broadway was, and was told, for answer, that she would be here to-night. I asked again, and was told I should see her, perhaps. Miss Ebbs said, “She's a personage of great importance here ;" and Phippy (I like Phippy because she can express an opinion) exclaimed, "Indeed, but I don't think her of any importance at all! Not a bit, I don't." I asked if she was a friend of Mrs. Wells. They said, "Why, she's a neighbour, and she's to come tonight; she always comes when there's to be a party." How can there be a party to-night? it is Sunday," said I. "Well, but there's going to be one on Wednesday, and Miss Broadway always comes to make it up who's to be invited." "I'll ask how she likes my curls," added Phippy; " and if she looks vexed, I'll keep to them." 66 But I will write an account of the evening. One reason for keeping this Journal was to be able to compare my different opinions of the same occurrence at the time it happens, and when it is past. I wonder if I shall ever look back on this dullest of all dull "tea-drinkings" with the feelings with which I now think of some certain visits paid long ago. And yet those visits were then indifferent. But were they really so? I wish I had a faithful record of what I then thought and felt. Is it possible I shall ever wish to recall the circle of empty faces on which I looked with half sleepy eyes for three hours together? (To be continued.) CAMPAIGN IN IRELAND. BY THE WIFE OF A COLONEL, August, 1844. How tenaciously the heart aids the memory to preserve fresh and green the impression of happy days gone by! "Bright phantoms of the past" flit constantly before the mind's eye, and are plainly visible, however worn and dimmed that mind may be with care and sorrow! I am not presuming to look upon the state of Ireland with the eye of a politician. I am merely dwelling upon the pleasing impressions which my sojourn there, in the year 1827, has left upon my mind; and, as I was young and happy, I saw every thing through the medium of couleur de rose. I lived within the sound of a military band, to my were cheered by the gay sight of one of the finest regiments in the service-a regiment which had excited equally the wonder and admiration of Napoleon Bonaparte, eliciting from him the exclamation of " Comme ils sont terrible ces chevaux gris!” There is no period in a life of chequered charac-ears the most melodious in the world. My eyes ter, to which I look back with more pleasure than to my sojourn in Ireland; which must always be, from the associations of peace and happiness which accompany the remembrance, one of the "greenest spots in my memory's waste." To me the idea of Ireland, is linked with the recollection of cordial The life was new- -the excitement delightful. hearts, kind hospitality, cheerfulness, and plenty; There was something romantic and chivalric even but such an opinion is so contrary to every other in the agitations of the country; and, feeling sethat was ever written or spoken upon the subject, cure and happy within the walls of the barracks-so diametrically opposed to all the histories of not like those edifices in England, into which s starvation, misery, and desolation, the never-end- lady can scarcely with propriety take up her ahale ing theme of lamentation of newspapers, land-lodged in all the comfort attending my position, holders, and all the race of etceteras who are more as the wife of the commanding officer, I rather felt or less interested in the fate of this beautiful, but certainly unfortunate country,-that I am aware that I am singular in the estimate I have formed of its attractions. But let it be remembered, that a morbid gratification, in listening to the tales of horror which every new day brought forth-in nine cases out of ten, magnified out of trifles into giant catastrophes. Some, I own, of the relations were fearfully true, and severely was I reminded | tions, words, looks, countenances! and, although of the unquiet state of the county Tipperary, and it is all past for ever, still it is delightful to think the wretched result of crime, by meeting, whilst that so it has been! driving in the vicinity of Cahir, a car, in which were extended the lifeless bodies of four men who had been hanged a few miles off, for having perpetrated a most atrocious murder. The unfortunate wretches were lying uncovered, their faces alone concealed by the caps drawn over them, and their dislocated necks dangling with every motion of the jolting vehicle. It was very dreadful; for we met this fearful cavalcade in so narrow a lane, that the carriage was obliged to stop until it passed. I shall never forget the sensation of horror, with which I put my hands to my eyes and ears, to shut out the sight, and the fearful sounds of the howls of lamentation of the women who accompanied the dead bodies of the murderers! But let not young ladies imagine that the writer is for a moment advocating the expediency of marrying to live in barracks. She was very happy; but her happiness was quite independent of any adventitious circumstances; for it rested in the peculiar blessings which surrounded her home, wherever it might chance to be. I certainly was delighted with the novelty of a life which made me for a brief space the inmate of a barrack; but, perhaps, had it been my fate to be obliged to make such an abode my constant residence, I might have soon discovered, that the inconveniences and contrivances which, as a temporary infliction, only created amusement and excitement, in the long run were any thing but a joke; and I would fain take the liberty of giving those young ladies a hint, who have created for themselves a visionary existence of bliss, when dwelling upon the hope of becoming an officer's wife. They see before them-infatuated fair ones!the picture which they have painted with the brightest colouring, of a life of gay enjoyment,light-heartedness, the lively society of the regiment,-devotion, admiration, their natural claim! I presume to give my opinion thus freely, because what I say is the unvarnished reality; and it may be credited, as it comes from one who has been behind the scenes. However, this is one of the very few unpleasing scenes I encountered in Ireland. I was fortunate, and saw, with few exceptions, only the bright side of the picture; and thus I ever remember "the Green Island." Of its abuses and errors I do not concern myself, unless it is to wish the beautiful country and all its belongings well, with all my heart and soul. I will not, with all my partiality, pretend to say, that, on my first arrival, or rather, on my journey to Tipperary, my English eyes were not a little scandalized by the desolation of the picture, and that I then appreciated, as I might have done, the natural magnificent features We all know how bright and attractive is the of the country. The harvest was over-nothing appearance, the tout ensemble, of a dashing dragoon to be seen but fallow fields and stone walls, instead regiment. The bearing of the officers—their marof hedges; and then the smell of peat, which made tial duties-the beautiful horses, managed so skilitself perceptible every where, in doors-in the fully by the practised hands of their graceful open air!-it is never to be got rid of, intruding riders-the trappings of regimental finery-the itself into every article of food. I remember mak- band, announcing their approach, with its hearting a serious grievance of the inns and their desa-stirring music: what heart, young or old, does not grémens, and was discontented and miserable. On looking back to the time that is gone, we have all probably felt shocked to find how much misery has This is all very fascinating to the eye, -to the been created out of trifles by our own ungrateful fancy,--but "it is not all gold that glitters;" and hearts-how much alloy we have ourselves in- much as I love the profession, and respect and adfused into our best and most rational days of hap-mire those who belong to it, I would advise every piness. How gladly we would live over again the most despised of those days! How well I can recal my childish delight, in watching the daily routine of duty performed by the troops-listening to every blast of the trumpet, in expectation of its ushering in some grand and unexpected event; and then the band-the beautiful band!—even now that it is all over, and years have passed since I heard its music, and the remembrance fills my eyes with tears, still there is a strange mixture of pleasure in the sensation; memory bringing back with it the fresh feelings of youth, and with them hosts of recollec beat with ardour, on looking upon these fine specimens of God's noblest works-man? maiden to pause ere she "lists;" for, take the word of an experienced person, she is but too often rushing upon disappointment. A young lady, however she may be admired by every individual of the corps she enters, loses caste the moment she becomes the wife of one of their brother officers. She has done the regiment an injury. They all declare that such acts are ruinous in its consequences. The mess suffers it breaks up the society-throws more duty upon the others; for married men are always out of the way: in short, it is a most unpopular measure; and it is felt, depend upon it, more or less, by those who are bold enough to take the step, as long as they remain as married people "of ours." I am not, however, speaking feelingly; for during the time I passed in close contact with a regiment, I was not in the peculiar position so hateful to the officers, that of being the means of depriving them of the society of one of their especial clique, for I was the wife of the colonel, and the horror of regimental matrimony does not mount so high: indeed, I imagine that in | barrack rooms, the privates were constantly to be that rank it is rather approved by all parties, how-seen, taking their recreation, in poring over the ever anti-matrimonial they may be in other cases. well-thumbed novels of "the great wizard of the The society of the colonel, however highly he may north;" a tribute to his genius, which would have be estimated by the officers under his command, been as dear to his heart, as if he had listened to can be dispensed with as a constant member of the praise from the lips of the most enlightened and mess; it never answers to make him a boon com- noble of the land. Indeed, we know that “at the panion. Indeed, I believe it is considered far more close of the coronation of George the Fourth, Sir expedient, as he must, of necessity, be often con- Walter Scott received a mark of homage from this veniently both deaf and blind,—that the colonel fine regiment, which delighted him not less than should not mix too freely with those he has to Laird Nippy's reverence of the Sheriff's Knoll, and direct; that he should be on the kindest, the most the Birmingham cutler's dear acquisition of his sigfriendly terms with all, but that the respectful feel-nature on a visiting ticket. Missing his carriage, ing with which he inspires his officers, should be of such a nature, that with real affection there may be mingled a deferential fear-I mean the fear of offending one whom they so deeply respect. Such should be the sentiments existing between the officers and colonel of a regiment, and should influence the conduct of a corps; and such it has been my happiness to witness. Amusing and agreeable are the recollections of a year passed in the county, which from its awful cognomen assuredly does not give the idea of pleasantness and peace. But let us not at once suppose that murders and horrors have been the causes of the designation; let us more charitably conclude, that the feuds at the fairs and wakes, the contentions created by the united effects of whisky, fun, and high spirits, aided by the free use of the shilelah, causing the red stream to flow so frequently from that usually insulted feature, the nose-the constant fights, innocent of all (generally speaking) but a few broken heads, have brought upon this county, so favoured by nature, and neglected by art, the terrific appellation of "Bloody Tipperary!" Certainly-low be it spoken-I do remember going out to dinner, seated in the carriage between two gentlemen, each having in their hands a loaded pistol; however, I believe the manoeuvre was as much for the amusement of frightening me, as for any real apprehension of an attack from the "Tipperary boys." The winter passed quickly, and had its plea sures, notwithstanding all the "rumours of wars." A store-house, converted by the officers into a theatre, passed away many a long evening. Cleverly were these theatricals managed. The performers were, some of them, really first-rate; and they were not altogether confined to the officers; some of the privates and non-commissioned officers were admitted into the corps dramatique, and were, truly, no disgrace to the boards. Indeed, a performance was got up, entirely composed of the soldiers, and their national partiality made them choose "Rob Roy" for the piece. Bailie Nicol Jarvie was personated in a style which would have delighted Walter Scott, for he might have recognized a very fair imitation of his favourite, Mackay. The lower classes of our northern kingdom appreciate the beauties of literature much more than those of our own country. They are a reading people. The enthusiasm amongst the Scottish soldiers on the subject of the works of the author of Waverley, was intense. On passing the open windows of the he had to return home on foot from Westminster Hall, after the banquet,-that is to say, between two and three o'clock in the morning,—when he and a young gentleman, his companion, found themselves locked in the crowd, somewhere near Whitehall; and the bustle and confusion were such, that his friend was afraid some accident might happen to his lame limb. A space for the dignitaries was kept clear at that point by the Scots Greys. Sir Walter accosted a sergeant of this celebrated regiment, begging to be allowed to pass by him into the open ground in the middle of the street. The man answered, shortly, that his orders were strict, that the thing was impossible. While he was endeavouring to persuade the sergeant to relent, some new wave of turbulence approached from behind, and his young companion exclaimed, in a loud voice, 'Take care, Sir Walter Scott! take care!' The stalwart dragoon, en hearing the name, said, 'What! Sir Walter Scott! he shall get through, any how!' He then addressed the soldiers near him :- Make room, men, for Sir Walter Scott. God bless him!' and he was in a moment within the guarded line of safety." Our theatrical company was rather at a loss for female performers; however we supplied one in the person of a little girl of eight years old-quite a female Roscius-and a handsome lad, the son of the master of the band, was converted, by the aid of petticoats, into a beautiful woman. But the best figure on the boards was a metamorphosed captain, who entered with perfect good nature into the frolic, and allowed himself, without a murmur, to be transformed into the complete model of the character so commonly in disrepute amongst young men, that of an old woman. The noble lady who then was our close neighbour, and her son and daughters, were wont to encourage, by their presence, these amateur efforts, and the memory of all who then knew them must ever dwell with pleasure upon the group. Her ladyship's energy of character and independence of mind-those rare qualifications, rendered her a stirring and useful head to her son's establishment. The park, which skirted the barracks, was a valuable resource, and we were allowed freely the use of it. Situated in one of the prettiest of picturesque spots, stands a rustic cottage, a delicious retreat in summer. Many pleasant parties were assembled here, the band enlivening them with its music. Lady. always, not only the promoter of cheerful amuse ment, but by her lively participation of it, gave | life and animation to the scene. Her ladyship would dance the national dance, the Irish jig, with unrivalled grace and spirit; and her figure was so light, and her feet so small, that she imparted to it a degree of elegance of which it never before could have boasted. She, with other bright and beautiful things, is gone— "But the thought of her comes o'er me * Whilst I inhabited Cahir barracks, I witnessed a ceremony of a painful and not common nature. I allude to that of drumming a private out of the regiment. The man had acted in a manner fully to deserve the severe sentence, and as the fault for which he underwent the penalty inconvenienced me very sensibly, the whole affair created peculiar and individual interest. The wretched man had already undergone punishment for continual incorrigible drunkenness and insubordination, and on his being released from confinement, in order to revenge himself for his well-merited chastisement, entirely damaged our two carriages by scratching all over the paint with a horse-shoe picker. Both of the carriages were rendered quite unfit for use, and were obliged to undergo complete repair. A general court-martial sentenced the criminal to be drummed out of the regiment, and truly it was a sad and degrading spectacle. The culprit, dressed in his stable jacket stripped of its lace, was tied to a cart; then, followed by the whole regiment, the band playing the "Rogue's March," he was drawn through the town, at the extremity of which he was turned off into the wide world, and has since become a beggar and a tramper-a melancholy termination of a soldier's career! However, I must add, for the honour of the regiment, that the unfortunate private was not a Scotsman, although his name was M'Lean. With what different feelings have I watched the ceremonial of a soldier's funeral, that most touching of spectacles! I remember the day after the disgraceful finale of the military career of the incorrigible M'Lean, watching the honourable departure of a private. He was a Waterloo man, and bore a good character in the regiment. Solemn and imposing, indeed, is the sight of a warrior thus carried to his rest! The hollow notes of the muffled drum strike painfully on the ear, and that dismal strain, "The Dead March in Saul," brings tears to the eye. Gloomy and sad is the sound of the measured tread of those comrades in arms who now so silently follow the dead. "The riderless horse," led in the rear, is always an affecting object in the picture; the man and his horse are so vividly associated with each other-the horse the soldier's pride and glory. Nothing strikes to the heart with more acute painfulness than the sight of some article of the usual wearing apparel of one who is no more; it jars upon one of those mysterious chords of feeling at the heart, which we all know by experience it is agony to touch. The helmet and sword laid upon the pall-the boots of the poor soldier displayed to view-and, to remember that he was a Waterloo hero-that he had "stood on the battle plain Where every step was over the slain, And the brand and the ball had passed him by." The closing scene of the ceremony, no picture can equal for mournful solemnity-when the attendant troops rest their hands and right cheeks upon the butt of their firelocks, and form a street, through which the coffin of their comrade passes. It is termed "mourn arms;" and, with truth, few can look upon it—even the most hardened, unmoved. And then the bugles cease their wailing strain, as the coffin is lowered into the grave. A volley is fired, the clergyman pronounces the blessing; and, after a moment's pause, the procession moves away, and they leave the dead to the silence of his last home. And sudden, evanescent as human grief, is the change! The band strikes up a lively strainstrange contrast to the wail of sorrowful music which a few moments before filled the air—and, with quick steps, the mourners return to the business of life: and it is well that so it should be. It is not a soldier's character or vocation, to waste moments in idle gloom. Their comrade sleeps, ho noured at least in death. He has had an enviable privilege-a soldier's funeral! and that is a subject of exultation. No doubt there are many of every rank who have left a much-loved regiment, after having spent years in its service, who, on a bed of sickness, and with the prospect of death before them, in imagination have wandered to days that are gone, when their lives passed so cheerily in the midst of their comrades, and who have felt that it would have been a satisfaction, how great, how soothing! to think that they would be followed to the grave by those gallant comrades, and that the last sound wafted over their coffins, would be the farewell volley from their troop. (To be continued.) EPIGRAM: WRITTEN IN DEFENCE of the HABITUAL SILENCE (IN COM- By speaking to her Consort weak, But, smiling, opens Heaven to mortals. G. F. G. LOVE AND REASON. IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH OF PERRIN. "Tis said that, one unlucky day, When Love and Reason were at play, They quarrelled; and the froward child Outraged the beauty. What a pity! Since then, the foolish, wise, or witty, Could never get them reconciled.. Florence. G. F. G. LIFE OF LORD CHANCELLOR ELDON. VIEW Lord Eldon in what light soever, it is impossible to make a great man of him. The shrewd, clear-headed, well-informed lawyer, who, placed in remarkable circumstances, possessed, as if by instinct, the art of moulding events, as they arose, to his own advantage, had in his mind no original element of greatness. His influence with two sovereigns, directly opposite in habits and tastes, was as much owing to the qualities which enable a supple valet, or subtle father confessor, to manage and govern his superiors, as to force of intellect or moral weight. He was one of that rather numerous and respectable class of intensely selfish persons, who sustain through life the reputation of extreme good nature and amiability, because they will not allow their equanimity to be disturbed by any thing which does not affect their personal interests or wound their self-esteem. Touch these, and their good-nature becomes vindictiveness, their amiability spleen. On this principle, and as the world goes, Lord Eldon was a well-conditioned man. He was a kind husband to a wife who was devoted to him, a good master to servants who were faithful and obedient, and an indulgent father so long as his children presumed to have no will of their own, even on the momentous affair of marriage. He was a pleasant and facetious companion; and Mr. Twiss has industriously collected a few instances of his charity and liberality, which, after all, in a man who began the world with nothing, and amassed a princely fortune in the public service, do not go very far to establish Lord Eldon's reputation for generosity. In private life, however, if his character demands but ordinary praise, there was nothing positively objectionable. Nor was his public career without redeeming points. His dislike of all innovation, and probably some genuine and hearty English feeling, made him the determined foe of the modern game laws; and upon one occasion we find him expressing sound constitutional doctrine in opposition to his colleagues. This was when it was proposed to make Lord Ellenborough, then Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, a member of the cabinet. Nor was Lord Eldon's objection to the individual, but to the principle, when he delivered his opinion on the subject : That such an arrangement was not illegal, he admitted: and he would not say that it was unconstitutional; but he thought it inexpedient, because it tended to excite a suspicion of political partiality in the administration of justice. It was observable, that Lord Mansfield, whose case formed the solitary precedent, had become extremely unpopular after his entrance into the councils of the Government; and the jealousy which then arose in the minds of the people, however illfounded, had been sufficient to weaken the confidence which ought ever to be reposed in a judge. Lord Eldon declared himself persuaded, that the tenure of a seat in the Cabinet would not in the slightest degree affect the purity of Lord Ellenborough's judicial administration; but he thought, that, for the satisfaction of the country at large, it was undesirable to have the Lord Chief Justice in such a position: and he trusted that, on reflection, the learned Lord himself would not wish to retain it. It would not be proper that the same individual should act, first as a Minister to institute prosecutions for treason and sedition, and afterwards as the judge to preside at the trials. Lord Eldon's extreme self-love rendered his personal animosities stronger than his party dis likes. This was evinced in his jealousy of Canning, who was more obnoxious to him than any Whig whatever. The foundation of this was, probably, laid upon Canning wishing to oust him from the Chancellorship upon some proposed change in the Portland administration. In a letter to Lady Eldon, he says,— What will you think of politicians when I tell you, that it has even been suggested, that Perceval should return to the Law and be made Chancellor, and that, to retire? Perceval himself told me this: he did not name provide for keeping things together in this way, I should Canning as proposing it, but I take, upon suspicion, that to have been so; and then, Perceval being Chancellor, Canning might be Minister. Perceval treated this as be ought. The magnanimous conduct of Canning in relation to Queen Caroline, which exhibited so marked a contrast to that of her early friend and counsellor, the Chancellor, must have heightened this jealousy. Lord Eldon was more susceptible of anger from the slights or backwardness of his own party than from the opposition of his political rivals. On s vacancy occurring in the Chancellorship of Oxford, the Tory interest was divided between him and the Duke of Beaufort, which eventually enabled Lord Grenville to carry the election. The Lord Chancellor was exceedingly indignant at the Duke coming forward to oppose the favourite of the King, and so eminent a benefactor of the state as he considered himself. His anger and chagrin broke forth in the following letter to his brother: write soon. "MY DEAREST SIR WILLIAM,- You desired me to I do so to say that I am as stout as you could possibly wish me to be. I have had words, and dignifiedly angry words, with those who have given no support, and from whom I had a right, as I think, to the King, to know whether any part of my conduct could demand the most effectual support. I have written to justify the Oxford reports, that I had not his support, er that he was hurt that I did not give way to Beaufort. From him I have had a satisfactory letter. I still think that I can't remain (with the public opinion that I have not been supported) where I am; and I persuade myself that if I feel compelled to retire from my great office, because I don't choose to sacrifice the pretensions of a man long labouring for the public, to a fox-hunting Deke, I shall not fail to have your approbation. I have received a letter from the Duke of Richmond, in answer to a complaint of mine, that he had no reason to believe I had the support of Government!!! "As to what I am to do about the High Stewardship, I am willing to pause: but, upon looking into the sta tutes, and my oath of office, I may be called upon to d3 what I never will do. "The short result seems to me to be, and perhaps the best result, that a few weeks will send me to dear Facombe as a resting-place between vexation and the "Yours ever affectionately, grave. Probably Dec. 1809. "ELDON." Mr. Twiss does not concur in the opinion expressed by Sir Samuel Romilly, in his Diary, on |