difference between the two statements, 1700-a number by no means unreasonable, as we think, for sick, wounded and convalescent, if the nature of the climate and service be considered. But, on this supposition, a proportionate deduction must be made, in Mr. Latour's statement, from the corps of marines, seamen, artillerists, &c. &c. who, as well as the infantry, had their wounds and diseases and all such as may be acquainted with the composition of modern armies, will probably think, (as we do,) that 1500 artillerists, sappers, miners, and engineers, is a number, out of all proportion, too great for an army of 13,000 men. Our estimate, therefore, founded on these views, will leave to the British a grand total (including all arms present and fit for duty,) of 11,500 men, on the 8th of January, 1815; or nearly thrice the number of Gen. Jackson. Another and important view of this subject, is the promptitude with which Gen. Jackson adopted, and the science with which he pursued, the only system of defence, by which New-Orleans could have been saved against such terrific odds. Instead of waiting to count the files or battalions of his enemy, and either fighting or running away, according to the favourable or unfavourable result of the inquiry-he at once determined to put the temper and discipline and strength of his enemy to the test, by a night attack. The result was such, as to excite and establish the confidence of his own troops, and to fill those of his adversary with doubts and jealousies and fears, which every future step of his conduct tended to quicken and multiply. Finding that the corps with which he had been engaged in the night of the 23d, was but the advanceguard of the British army; and that, from the loss of the flotilla, and the nature of the ground, it was impossible for him to prevent the junction, or even to annoy the march of the main body-he wisely took the determination of entrenching his first line, and putting himself on the defensive;-not, however, that droning and drivelling species of it, which employs only the pick-axe and the spade; and which, while it strengthens itself, does nothing to weaken or disturb its enemy,-but that other and nobler and only legitimate species, which is at once vigilant and daring and adroit; which keeps an enemy constantly occupied, and always in alarm; which punishes every fault or folly he commits; which permits him neither to eat nor drink nor sleep in quiet; which renders the discharge of all his duties both perilous and painful; which disgusts him with himself and with the service; and lastly, which fills his heart with fears, and his mouth with murmurs. Such was the situation to which Jackson had reduced the British army, before he beat it, on the 8th of January. And the lessons inculcated by the fact, are highly important to both the soldier and the statesman: to the first, it holds out an invitation, "to go and do likewise ;" and to the latter, an admonition, that a General, really gifted with military talents, may, with very deficient means, effect great objects; but, that the most abundant means, under the direction of a pretender, will generally fail.* * "Ut facile," says Livy, "appararet ducibus validiorem quam exercitu rem Romanum esse." Such was the experience of the Romans-Such is our own. ART. VI.—Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth: by Lucy AIKIN. In 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 873. Wells & Lilly, Boston. 1821. It was said a long time ago, that of the making of many books, there was no end. How would the moralist have sighed at this day, when Magazines-Retrospective, Eclectic, and Analectic, Edinburgh, London, Quarterly and Monthly Reviews, Gazettes for every week and each day in the week, meet our eyes in every direction add to these the innumerable histories, biographies, essays moral and immoral, novels, epics, tragedies, melo-drames, odes, elegies, and miscellaneous collections, which crowd our circulating libraries; while readers and critics rave, recite, and madden round the land. This wonderful fertility of authors bears particularly hard upon certain worthies, ycleped Reviewers, who set themselves up as distinguishers between good and evil, and directors of the public taste. Although it would be, perhaps, exacting too much, to require them to read all the works they criticise; yet they must, of necessity, at least dip into them. The reader may imagine, then, with what a desperate courage one of these servants of the public surveys a catalogue of new books, and sees "hosts on hosts in countless numbers pour." We had scarcely recovered from the dissipations of Kenilworth, when the Buccaneer was announced. We, however, comforted ourselves, by determining to have nothing to say to one who can write faster than we can criticise. We scarce have had leisure to look at Faliero, or glance at the first page (but that was enough) of the famed Mirandola; Miss Baillie's new poems escaped us in the crowd; we pretended not to see Miss Porter's last novel; with one step we cleared the Anna Matilda of the day, besides a dozen new tragedies; and were preparing to spring over a mountain of travels when, face to face, we were met by a large and goodly looking volume, whose wide margins and fair type were most inviting. We wish to be understood as not sneering at wide margins: indeed, we think them a decided improvement in literature. Any of our readers, who have been so unfortunate as to write, and so miserable as to print, will, we are sure, agree with us. Since the author of Waverly has been pleased to transport us to the scenes of olden time, and lay before our charmed view the secrets of antiquity, the public have all turned antiquarians, and every old book and chronicle has been ransacked to gratify their curiosity. Amidst these researches, just as all the world had returned from the fates at Kenilworth, nothing could be more apropos than Memoirs of the Court of Elizabeth. The English nation have always regarded the reign of this Princess with peculiar complacency; though it must be confessed, that her court bore more resemblance to that of an eastern despot, than to the mild government of an English sovereign. The abject submission which degraded every courtier around Elizabeth's throne, is excused, or softened, by referring their obedience to a spirit of gallantry which added the devotion of lovers, or the courtesy of gentlemen, to the loyalty of subjects. This spirit of gallantry must, however, have been very strong, as well as universal, to have pervaded both houses of parliament, and led them to lay their privileges at the feet of their haughty mistress, and to be accessories to many of her unjust acts. The chief merits of Elizabeth's character seem to have been a resolute temper and shrewd mind; qualities inherited from her father, and to which she added much art and prudence. But she did not possess a great mind, and she never performed a kingly action. Her gratitude was limited by her avarice; her policy disgraced by petty cunning. Her hate and her love were alike dangerous,-the one from its implacability, the other from her caprice. Her learning, of which too much has been said, was not without pedantry; and she too often permitted her opinions as a sovereign to be guided by absurd womanish prejudices. If we view her as a woman, we find few virtues to commend, even if we accord to her the praise of purity of conduct. Vain and credulous, the dupe of the grossest flattery, and the vassal of an ungovernable temper-who, that beholds her as Elizabeth Tudor, would recognize the reverse of the medal, where she is commemorated as Queen of England? But, it is not in the character of Elizabeth alone, that the glory which surrounds her reign resides. It was the Burleighs, the Bacons, and the Sydneys, who made her arms and councils glorious; and the different, but striking characters of Leicester, Essex, Ralegh, and Sussex, that rendered her reign interesting. The many great men who adorned England at that period, the varied and disastrous destiny of the Queen of Scotland, and the situation of affairs on the Continent-all combine to render Memoirs of the Court of Elizabeth susceptible of the highest interest. In the department of writing styled Memoirs, it is allowed that the French have always excelled. English literature has nothing to equal the freshness and simplicity of Marmontel, the naivete of Montaigne, the strength and skill of Simon, and, to pass over other names, the grace and truth of Genlis. It is not only in the beauty of their portraits, for which the French claim our praise; but in the setting, if we may so express it, of the picture. They do not lead us from character to character, with the dry introduction'this is Monsieur le Duc; that is Madame la Duchesse:' but draw us into an acquaintance, with a grace and spirit as entirely their own, as the skill with which their cooks prepare a ragout, or their dancing-masters execute a pirouette. The deficiency in this walk of literature will not, we think, be exactly supplied by the work before us. While we accord high praise to the extensive research of the author, and the diligence with which she has collected every particular that could heighten the interest of her picture, we must also remark, that the grouping is stiff, and the characters touched with too timid or too weak a hand. The work has neither the nervousness of history, nor the point and grace of lighter writing. Without intending to disparage Miss Aikin's abilities, we think she has aimed at an object beyond her reach. That the powers of the female mind have of late years been wonderfully developed, and the literary attainments of women greatly increased, is undeniable. We think that a woman of education might be better employed than in mixing puddings; and that it would not be discreditable, were she to betray deeper knowledge than that which is to be gathered from the trifles of the day. But there are certain limits to female ambition. Whether the difference between male and female talent be owing to the laws of nature, or to the institutions of society, we think the evidence of superiority is in favour of what Lord Coke terms the "worthier sex." Let woman be in literature what she is in life-the being who enlivens, soothes, and decorates our path: let works of imagination be her province; but let her leave to man the more laborious occupations of the mind. Some females, it is true, have risen above the ordinary powers of their sex ; but these are rather objects of wonder, than models of imitation. Even such as were most profound, have pleased more when they were contented to be only pleasing, than when they assumed the tone and office of instruction. The talented Madame de Stael puzzled not only her readers, but herself, when she dabbled in metaphysics; but on more appropriate subjects, what can excel the acuteness of her judgment, the justness of her taste, or the beauty of her sentiments? And highly as we esteem Miss Edgeworth, we somewhat doubt, if her writings have not excited more admiration, from the circumstance of their flowing from a woman's pen. We must not, however, be suspected of undervaluing the talent and merit of the sex. We have, indeed, been gratified to hear foreigners remark, as a peculiarity of the American character, that the women are superior to the men and may they ever be so; for it is the purity of the women which forms 49 the safeguard to the morals of any country. It may be a trite, but it is an important observation, that the degradation of the female mind has ever been the most fatal symptom of a country's ruin. The work of the fair author before us, will be found, notwithstanding the faults we have mentioned, to contain much curious and amusing information. The account of the reception of the Queen at London, on her accession to the crown, and the character of Leicester, are among the author's best efforts. 'On November 23d, the queen set forward for her capital, attended by a train of about a thousand nobles, knights, gentlemen, and ladies, and took up her abode for the present at the dissolved monastery of the Chartreux, or Charterhouse, then the residence of lord North; a splendid pile, which offered ample accommodation for a royal retinue. Her next remove, in compliance with ancient custom, was to the Tower. On this occasion, all the streets from the Charterhouse were spread with fine gravel; singers and musicfans were stationed by the way, and a vast concourse of people freely lent their joyful and admiring acclamations, as preceded by her heralds and great officers, and richly attired in purple velvet, she passed along mounted on her palfrey, and returning the salutations of the humblest of her subjects with graceful and winning affability. With what vivid, and what affecting impressions of the vicissitudes attending on the great, must she have passed again within the antique walls of that fortress, once her dungeon, now her palace! She had entered it by the Traitor's gate, a terrified and defenceless prisoner, smarting under many wrongs, hopeless of deliverance, and apprehending nothing less than an ignominious death. She had quitted it, still a captive, under the guard of armed men, to be conducted she knew not whither. She returned to it in all the pomp of royalty, surrounded by the ministers of her power, ushered by the applauses of her people; the cherished object of every eye, the idol of every heart. Devotion alone could supply becoming language to the emotions 'which swelled her bosom ; and no sooner had she reached the royal apartments, than falling on her knees, she returned humble and fervent thanks to that Providence which had brought her in safety, like Daniel from the den of lions, to behold this day of exaltation. Elizabeth was attended, on her passage to the Tower, by one who, like herself, returned with honour to that place of his former captivity; but not, like herself, with a mind disciplined by adversity to receive with moderation and wisdom "the good vicissitude of joy." This person was lord Robert Dudley, whom the queen had thus early encouraged to aspire to her future favours, by appointing him to the office of master of the horse. We are totally uninformed of the circumstances which had recommended to her peculiar patronage, this bad son of a bad father; whose enterprises, if successful, would have disinherited of a kingdom Elizabeth herself, no less than Mary. But it is remarkable, that even under the reign of the latter, the surviving members of the Dudley family had been able to recover in great measure from the effects of |