Major Lally, with his battalion, leading. Our column had scarcely commenced the movement, when signs of confusion were visible among the enemy. In consequence of which, the cavalry was ordered to charge, follow them up, and engage them, until the infantry could arrive. Lieut. Pratt was ordered to follow in the rear of the dragoons at a gallop. Had this movement been performed, the whole force would have been ours. But by an order from Major Lally, (who doubtless thought he saw an opportunity for delivering an effectual fire upon the retreating enemy,) "Lieut. Pratt was taken from the position assigned him by me, and in consequence, detained until a greater portion of the column had passed: then, owing to the nature of the ground, it was impossible for his battery to proceed with rapidity."

"The cavalry pursued the retreating enemy for about a mile and a half, skirmishing with them. On arriving at a small hill they made a stand, and fought severely until our infantry appeared, when they took flight. Our artillery fired a few shots, as soon as it came up, but without effect, as by their rapid retreat they had placed themselves at long range. The dragoons were again ordered to follow and keep them engaged. After a running fight, (exceedingly like a fox chase,) and when within a mile and a half from Attixco, the whole body of the enemy were discovered on a side hill covered with chaparral, forming hedges, behind which they had posted themselves. Our cavalry dashed among them, cutting them down in great numbers. So thick was the chaparral, that the dragoons were ordered to dismount and attack them on foot. A most bloody conflict ensued, fatal to the enemy. Our infantry, for the last six miles, had been straining themselves to the utmost to overtake the enemy, pressing forward most arduously, notwithstanding the forced march of sixteen miles since eleven o'clock. Owing to the nature of the road, almost entirely destroyed by gullies, the artillery could only advance at a walk. As soon as the infantry again appeared in sight, the enemy again retreated. So worn out were our horses, (the sun having been broiling hot all day,) that they could pursue the enemy no further. The column was pressed forward as rapidly as possible toward the town. Night had already shut in, giving us, however, the advantage of a fine moonlight. As we approached, several shots were fired at us, and deeming it unsafe to risk a street fight in an unknown town at night, I ordered the artillery to be posted on a hill near the town, and overlooking it, and to open its fire. Now ensued one of the most beautiful sights conceivable. Every gun was served with the utmost rapidity, and the crash of the walls and the roofs of the houses, when struck by our shot and shell, was mingled with the roar of our artillery. The bright light of the moon enabled us to direct our shots to the most thickly populated parts of the town."

"After firing three quarters of an hour, the firing from the town having ceased, I ordered Major Lally and Colonel Brough to advance cautiously with their commands into the town. On entering, I was waited upon by the ayuntamiento, who desired that the town might be spared. After searching the next morning for arms and ammunition, and disposing of what was found, I commenced my return."

"General Rea had two pieces of artillery; but as soon as he was aware of our approach, he ordered them with haste to Matamoras, a small town eleven leagues beyond. The enemy state their own loss in this action to be 219 killed, and 300 wounded. On our part we had one man killed and one

wounded. Scarcely ever has a more rapid forced march been made than this, and productive of better results. Attixco has been the head quarters of guerillas in this section of the country, and of late the seat of government for the State. From hence all expeditions have been fitted out against our troops. So much terror has been impressed upon them at thus having war brought to their own homes, that I am inclined to believe they will give us no more trouble."

The cavalry under Captain Ford, are thanked in the warmest manner for their services on this occasion, by General Lane, Captains Lewis and Taylor of 3d Artillery, and Lieuts. Waters, Lilly, Martin, Pratt, Sears, Douglass, Henderson, Gordon, McDonald and Phelps; and Doctors Reynolds, Newton and Lamar, are also recommended to the notice of the government. Major Lally and Colonel Wynkoop were thanked for their services, and the gallantry of their commands.

Returning to Peubla, the column passed through the ancient city of Cholula, now a sorry village, surrounded by a vast number of ruined buildings. Several of the officers availed themselves of the opportunity of visiting the remarkable pyramid, which was built here by the ancient Aztecs. It is now surmounted by a church, and to a casual observer can scarcely be distinguished from any ordinary hill. There is also a column erected in the plaza, to the memory of the thousands who were slaughtered by Cortez here, upon the march of that conquerer to Mexico.

General Lane, having learned through one of the citizens that two pieces of artillery had just been manufactured at Guexocingo, a small village in the vicinity, proceeded thither with 450 men, and searched the town without effect. The pieces had been removed, but the carriages were found and destroyed.

The night was spent en bivouac, upon a plain, some seven or eight miles from Puebla. The city looked extremely beautiful from this spot, and such was the clearness of the atmosphere, that, though in reality so far, it appeared less than a mile distant.

Upon returning to Puebla the next morning, Lally's battalion was ordered to return to its former barracks at Tivoli, one of the suburbs of this magnificent city, where it remained inactive until early in December, when it took up the line of march for the city of Mexico, where its members were distributed among the various corps and regiments, then concentrated in the capital, to which they respectively belonged. They finally achieved the object of the expedition; but Scott had already dated one of his celebrated epistles to Washington City, from the National Palace; and the American troops, revelling upon the site of the ancient Halls of Montezuma, had achieved THE SECOND CONquest of Mexico.

* LEIGH HUNT."

WELL, that is the most even-tempered and fascinating work we have read for many a day! If you are in trouble-if anything has annoyed you; if you are a Wall-street broker, and stocks have fallen which you had wished to rise-or the last English mail has brought you a diarrhoea with the rise or fall of the money market; if you are an "exquisite,' and "can't positively" meet your tailor's bill; if you are the tailor that can't get it if you are a whig, growling over the political articles in the Democratic Review, or a Southern man, ranting over the leaders of Horace Greeley; an artist, consigned to a top garret and starvation, because you won't paint unnatural pictures, to suit a false taste-a poor musician, singing himself to death like a swan-or the author of a late book, writhing under a host of hostile criticisms; if you, reader, are any of those--in trouble, or likely to be-we commend thee, as an entire destroyer of self-thoughts sublunary, to read "Leigh Hunt's Autobiography;" and if you don't forget all your troubles, listening to his. and feel yourself joyous listening to his joy, then we are no judge of a fine, healthy book, jocund as hay-making, well-tempered as the spring of a Geneva watch, genial as an Indian summer, and occasionally as sparkling as Christopher North's long-loved Glenlivet.

We opened his autobiography with a prejudice, on account of his "Reminiscences of Byron," published after the poet's death, and Moore's views anent the said affair. On the other hand, we know that Shelley and Keats had been loved by him, yet we could not acquit him of dealing ungraciously by one of our dearest literary friends, and drawing down the just ire of another. We soon lost our prejudice, however, in the charming character of the book, and actually stole through it, unconsciously pleased and happy, by virtue of its enchanting style, and found ourselves, at the end of two volumes, full of reminiscences of everybody and everything worth knowing, during his hearty life, from his mercurial West Indian father to the verses on the "royal children," near the close of the second volume, which, by the way, we object to, as it looks like begging the vacant laureateship, and which is unworthy of Hunt; that is, the begging of it, and we say, "looks like begging," persuading ourselves that it is only a likeness. We cannot resist the temptation of giving a bird's-eye view of Hunt's life to our readers. It has been more than usually full of pleasing recollections, as a literary one. Much of this is owing to the cheerful disposition and versatile talent of the author, keeping his spirits up under trying difficulties, and winning friends, who appreciated as well as loved him.

Leigh Hunt was born in the village of Southgate, in Middlesex, on the 19th October, 1784, and, consequently, is at present in his sixty-sixth year. Southgate has acquired a classicality by its connection with some of the brightest spirits in English literature. It is in the parish of Edmonton, which was the birth-place of the dramatist Marlowe. Horne, the

The Autobiography of Leigh Hunt, with Reminiscences of Friends and Contemporaries, 2 volumes, New-York: Harpers. 1850,

author of "Orion," was also born here, and Charles Lamb's remains hallow its grave-yard. Coleridge exchanged his earthly bewilderment for a grave in Highgate, convenient; and in Hampstead-also in the vicinity"have resided Shelley and Keats, to say nothing of Akenside before them, and of Steel and Arbuthnot before Akenside." His father was a West Indian, and his mother a Philadelphian, of Irish blood. Their meeting was rather romantic, and is highly characteristic of the warm nature of the countries of their descent. Hunt, senior, when a youth, was sent to Philadelphia College. He was handsome, "with delicate features, a small aquiline nose, and blue eyes," became a scapegrace in the college, had a fine voice, knew how to use it, and was eloquent. He took M. A. both at Philadelphia and New-York, and on delivering the farewell orations at the [former, on leaving college, "two young ladies fell in love with him, one of whom he afterwards married." Leigh says of this courtship: "It was in reading with this voice the poets and other classics of England, that he completed the conquest of my mother's heart. He used to spend his evenings in this manner with her and her family-a noble way of courtship; and my grandmother became so hearty in his cause, that she succeeded in carrying it against her husband, who wished his daughter to marry a wealthy neighbor." He became a lawyer, had several children, the Revolution broke out, and he became obnoxious from espousing with ardor the cause of the British Government. He was mobbed by the populace, and after being carted through Philadelphia, was imprisoned in Market-street with a Dr. Kearsley, and escaped at midnight by bribing the sentinel with a large amount. Immediately he sought a ship which lay in the Delaware bound for the West Indies, belonging to his father-in-law, and arriving at Barbadoes, sailed afterward for England. His wife was unable to follow him till many months afterward; and judge of her astonishment, to find the lawyer partisan of Philadelphia transformed into a clergyman, preaching tranquillity from a real pulpit, in Bentinck chapel, Lisson-green, Paddington. It is said his eloquence made him so popular that Lowth, the celebrated Bishop of London, 66 sent for him, and remonstrated with him for preaching so many Charity Sermons," saying "it was ostentatious in a clergyman, and that his name was in too many advertisements."

Leigh Hunt's reminiscences of his father are admirable. He was of a mercurial disposition, rather brilliant, given to plan much and execute little; consequently, the circumstances of the family were seldom in a steady position. A lady, one of his delighted audience, left him five hundred pounds sterling, which was of much help; and also they received kindness and attention from West, the painter, who had married an aunt of Mrs. Hunt. Our author's mother was at the time "a brunette with fine eyes, a tall lady-like person, and hair blacker than seen of English growth." She was fond of nature and books, and might have had Dr. Franklin to teach her the guitar, but was too bashful to receive his kindness. Apropos of Franklin. Hunt gives the following anecdote, not vouching for its newness-"That when Dr. Franklin invented the Harmonica, he concealed it from his wife till the instrument was fit to play; and then woke her with it one night, when she took it for the music of angels. Mrs. Hunt possessed great energy of principle, tenderness of mind, and amiability; but early misfortunes made her timid in ordinary, and the war whoop of the Indians which she heard in Philadelphia ever rung on

her heart, and she could not bear to see two men fighting in the streets, and used to go out of the way a long distance to avoid meeting soldiers. She used to have Leigh with her; he was the youngest, being nine years younger than his brothers. "Little did she think," says he, "of the timidity with which she was thus inoculating me, and what difficulty I should have, when I went to school, to sustain all those fine theories, and that unbending resistance to oppression which she inculcated." She was fond of poetry, and encouraged her youngest son's attempts, keeping them with all the delight of a poet's mother in her pocket book, and showing the treasures of her boy's mind to the Wests and others. She was an excellent woman, and her son dwells with true filial affection on her memory; and with excess of devotion we can love him, for he says, "I envy my brother Robert the recollections of the filial attentions he paid her.” Our readers will remember that Robert was the elder. And we ourselves should often have wished to be a younger son, but that being the eldest, we know our mother best, and have had the opportunity of loving her more and longer. She died in her fifty-third year, and was buried at Hampstead.

If we have dwelt thus long on the parents of our author, it is because we have a natural affection for misfortune, and a fraternal love for those whom she plays with or marks. We shall come more particularly to Leigh. In youth he was of a very delicate constitution, being scarcely recovered from one illness before another laid hold of him. Some person told his mother, that if he survived fifteen he might turn out a more than average amount of intellect; but otherwise that it was extremely probable he should die an idiot. The anxiety such an announcement made on his loving mother, may be imagined. He was sent to France to aid his recovery, where his recollection pictures a French woman who used to cry over the " poor little boy," because he was a heretic. She was sure he should go to the devil. His ill disposition and timidity, fostered by his mother's kind nature and sensitive habits, rendered him a prey to his elder brother's powers of mimicry and to ghost stories, and tales of horror or wild beasts; and many pleasing anecdotes are recorded of such excitement.

His school-days at Christ Hospital passed over as most school-days do; but soon he lost a great deal of his timid rearing, from cogitating with himself, "that if he did not put moral courage in the place of personal, or, in other words, undergo any stubborn amount of pain and wretchedness, rather than submit to what he thought wrong, there was an end for ever, as far as he was concerned, of all those fine things that had been taught him, in vindication of right and justice." Thus settling the point with himself, and having from his family a spirit of love and freedom, he gained for himself at an early period the "reputation of a romantic enthusiast, whose daring in behalf of a friend, or a good cause, nothing could put down." In Christ Hospital many eminent men received their education. It is "a nursery of tradesmen, merchants, naval officers and scholars," and is quite republican in its regulations and regimen. Here Richardson, the novelist, Camden, the historian, Bishop Stillingfleet, Mitchell, translator of Aristophanes, Barnes, the well-known editor of the Times and an eminent Greek scholar, Coleridge, Charles Lamb, and many others of note, were educated. The description of the school and his schooldays are told with much humor, piquancy and heart. His recollections