were, indeed, galloping over the plain, kicking and plunging, apparently mad with pain, whilst the poor wounded wretches who saw them coming, and could not get out of their way, shrieked in agony, and tried to shrink back to escape from them, but in vain.  Soon after, I saw an immense horse (one of the Scotch Greys) dash towards a colonel of the Imperial Guard, who had had his leg shattered; the horse was frightfully wounded, and part of a broken lance still rankled in one of its wounds.  It rushed snorting and plunging past the Frenchman, and I shall never forget his piercing cry as it approached.  I flew instantly to the spot, but ere I reached it the man was dead; for, though I do not think the horse had touched him, the terror he felt had been too much for his exhausted frame.  Sickened with the immense heaps of slain, which spread in all directions as far as the eye could reach, I was preparing to return, when as I was striding over the dead and dying, and meditating on the horrors of war, my attention was attracted by a young Frenchman, who was lying on his back, apparently at the last gasp.  There was something in his countenance which interested me, and I fancied, though I knew not when, or where, that I had seen him before.  Some open letters were lying around, and one was yet grasped in his hand as though he had been reading it to the last moment.  My eye fell upon the words “Mon cher fils,” in a female hand, and I felt interested for the fate of so affectionate a son.  When I left home in the morning, I had put a flask of brandy and some biscuit into my pocket, in the hope that I might be useful to the wounded, but when I gazed on the countless multitude which strewed the field, I felt discouraged from attempting to relieve them.  Chance had now directed my attention to one individual, and I was resolved to try to save his life.  His thigh was broken, and he was badly wounded on the left wrist, but the vital parts were untouched, and his exhaustion seemed to arise principally from the loss of blood.  I poured a few drops of brandy into his mouth, and crumbling my biscuit contrived to make him swallow a small particle.  The effects of the dose were soon visible; his eyes half opened, and a faint tinge of colour spread over his cheek.  I administered a little more, and it revived him so much that he tried to sit upright.  I raised him, and contriving to place him in such a manner, as to support him against the dead body of a horse, I put the flask and biscuit by his side, and departed in order to procure assistance to remove him.  I recollected that a short time before, I had seen a smoke issuing from a deep ditch, and that my olfactory nerves had been saluted by a savoury smell as I passed.  Guided by these indications, I retraced my steps to the spot, and found some Scotch soldiers sheltered by a hedge, very agreeably employed in cooking a quantity of beefsteaks over a wood tire, in a French cuirass!!  I was exceedingly diverted at this novel kind of frying-pan,