In one capacity Neal was most useful. All the available sources of pillage for a wide circuit of country he knew by heart, and it was plain, from the accurate character of his information, varying, as it did, from the chattels of the rich landed proprietor to the cocks and hens of the cottier, that he had taken great pains to master his subject. At his suggestion it was decided that we should march that evening on Killala, where little, or, more likely, no resistance would be met with, and General Humbert should take up his quarters in the "Castle," as the Palace of the Bishop was styled. There, he said, we should not only find ample accommodation for the staff, but good stabling, well filled, and plenty of forage, while the Bishop himself might be a most useful hostage to have in our keeping. From thence, too, as a place of some note, general orders and proclamations would issue, with a kind of notoriety and importance necessary at the outset of an undertaking like ours; and truly never was an expedition more loaded with this species of missive than ours. whole cart-loads of printed papers, decrees, placards, and such like, followed us. If our object had been to drive out the English by big type and a flaming letter-press, we could not have gone more vigorously to work. Fifty thousand broad-sheet announcements of Irish independence were backed by as many proud declarations of victory, some dated from Limerick, Cashel, or Dublin itself.

Here, a great placard gave the details of the new Provincial Government of Western Ireland, with the name of the "Prefect" a blank. There was another, containing the police regulations for the "arrondissements" of Connaught, "et ses dependances." Every imaginable step of conquest and occupation was anticipated and provided for in these wise and considerate protocols, from the "enthusiastic welcome of the French on the western coast to the hour of "General Humbert's triumphal entry into Dublin!" Nor was it prose alone, but even poetry, did service in our cause. Songs, not, I own, conspicuous for any great metrical beauty, commemorated our battles and our bravery; so that we entered upon the campaign as

deeply pledged to victory as any force I ever heard or read of in history.

Neal, who was, I believe, originally a schoolmaster, had great confidence in this arsenal of "black and white;" and soon persuaded General Humbert that a bold face and a loud tongue would do more in Ireland than in any country under heaven; and indeed, if his own career might be called a success, the theory deserved some consideration. A great part of our afternoon was then spent in distributing these documents to the people, not one in a hundred of whom could read, but who treasured the placards with a reverence nothing diminished by their ignorance. Emissaries, too, were appointed to post them up in conspicuous places through the country, on the doors of the chapels, at the smiths' forges, at cross-roads, everywhere, in short, where they might attract notice. The most important and business-like of all these, however, was one headed "ARMS!"-"ARMS!" and which went on to say that no man who wished to lift his hand for old Ireland need do so without a weapon; and that a general distribution of guns, swords, and bayonets would take place at noon the following day at the Palace of Killala.

Serazin, and, I believe, Madgett, were strongly opposed to this indiscriminate arming of the people; but Neal's counsels were now in the ascendant, and Humbert gave an implicit confidence to all he suggested.

It was four o'clock in the evening when the word to march was given, and our gallant little force began its advance movement. Still attached to Colonel Charost's staff, and being, as chasseurs, in the advance, I had a good opportunity of seeing the line of march from an eminence about half a mile in front. Grander and more imposing displays I have indeed often witness

ed.

As a great military "spectacle" it could not, of course, be compared with those mighty armies I had seen deploying through the defiles of the Black Forest, or spreading like a sea over the wide plain of Germany, but in purely picturesque effect, this scene surpassed all I had ever beheld at the time, nor do I think, that, in after life, I can recall one more striking.

The winding road, which led over hill and valley, now disappearing, now emerging, with the undulations of the

soil, was covered by troops marching in a firm compact order; the grenadiers in front, after which came the artillery, and then the regiments of the line. Watching the dark column, occasionally saluting it as it went with a cheer, stood thousands of country people on every hill-top and eminence, while far away, in the distance, the frigates lay at anchor in the bay, the guns at intervals thundering out a solemn "boom" of welcome and encouragement to their comrades.

There was something so heroic in the notion of that little band of warriors throwing themselves fearlessly into a strange land, to contest its claim for liberty with one of the most powerful nations of the world; there was a character of daring intrepidity in this bold advance, they knew not whither, nor against what force, that gave the whole an air of glorious chivalry.

I must own that distance lent its wonted illusion to the scene, and prox imity, like its twin-brother, familiarity, destroyed much of the "prestige" my fancy had conjured up. The line of march, so imposing when seen from afar, was neither regular nor well kept. The peasantry were permitted to mingle with the troops, ponies, mules, and asses, loaded with camp-kettles and cooking vessels, were to be met with everywhere. The baggage-wagons were crowded with officers, and "sousofficiers," who, disappointed in obtaining horses, were too indolent to walk. Even the gun-carriages, and the guns themselves, were similarly loaded, while, at the head of the infantry column, in an old ricketty gig, the ancient mail conveyance between Bal lina and the coast, came General Humbert, Neal Kerrigan capering at his side on the old grey, whose flanks were now tastefully covered by the tri-color ensign of one of the boats as a saddle-cloth.

This nearer and less enchanting prospect of my gallant comrades I was enabled to obtain, on being despatched to the rere by Colonel Charost, to say that we were now within less than a mile of the town of Killala, its venerable steeple, and the tall chimneys of the palace, being easily seen above the low hills in front. Neal Kerrigan passed me, as I rode back with my message, galloping to the front with all the speed he could mus ter; but while I was talking to the

General he came back to say that the beating of drums could be heard from the town, and that by the rapid movements here and there of people, it was evident the defence was being prepar ed. There was a look-out, too, from the steeple, that showed our approach was already known. The General was not slow in adopting his measures, and the word was given for quick march, the artillery to deploy right and left of the road, two companies of grenadiers forming on the flanks. “As for you, sir," said Humbert to me, "take that horse," pointing to a mountain peny, fastened behind the gig, "ride forward to the town and make a reconnaissance. You are to report to me," cried he, as I rode away, and was soon out of hearing.

Quitting the road, I took a foottrack across the fields, and which the pony seemed to know well, and after a sharp canter reached a small, poor suburb of the town, if a few straggling wretched cabins can deserve the name; a group of countrymen stood in the middle of the road, about fifty yards in front of me; and while I was deliberating whether to advance or retire, a joy. ous cry of "Hurra for the French!" decided me, and I touched my cap in salute and rode forward.

Other groups saluted me with a similar cheer, as I went on; and now windows were flung open, and glad cries and shouts of welcome rang out from every side. These signs were too encouraging to turn my back upon, so I dashed forward through a narrow street in front, and soon found myself in a kind of square or "Place," the doors and windows of which were all closed, and not a human being to be seen anywhere. As I hesitated what next to do, I saw a soldier in a red coat rapidly turn the corner-" What do you want here, you spy," he cried out in a loud voice, and at the same instant his bullet rang past my ear with a whistle. I drove in the spurs at once, and just as he had gained a doorway I clove his head open with my sabre he fell dead on the spot before me. Wheeling my horse round, I now rode back as I had come, at full speed, the same welcome cries accom. panying me as before.

Short as had been my absence, it was sufficient to have brought the advanced guard close up with the town, and just as I emerged from the little

suburb, a quick, sharp firing drew my attention towards the left of the wall, and there I saw our fellows advancing at a trot, while about twenty red-coats were in full flight before them, the wild cries of the country people following them as they went.

I had but time to see thus much, and to remark that two or three English prisoners were taken, when the General came up. He had now abandoned the gig, and was mounted on a large, powerful, black horse, which I afterwards learned was one of the bishop's. My tidings were soon told, and, indeed, but indifferently attended to, for it was evident enough that the place was our own.

"This way, General-follow me," cried Kerrigan. "If the light-companies will take the road down to the Acres,' they'll catch the yeomen as they retreat by that way, and we have the town our own."

The counsel was speedily adopted; and although a dropping fire, here and there, showed that some slight resistance was still being made, it was plain enough that all real opposition was impossible.

"Forward!" was now the word; and the "chasseurs," with their muskets "in sling," advanced at a trot up the main street. At a little distance the grenadiers followed, and debouching into the square, were received by an ill-directed volley from a few of the militia, who took to their heels after they fired. Three or four red-coats were killed, but the remainder made their escape through the churchyard, and gaining the open country, scattered and fled as best they could.

Humbert, who had seen war on a very different scale, could not help laughing at the absurdity of the skirmish, and was greatly amused with the want of all discipline and "accord" exhibited by the English troops.

"I foresee, gentlemen," said he, jocularly, that we may have abundance of success, but gain very little glory, in the same campaign. Now for a blessing upon our labours- where shall we find our friend, the bishop?"

"This way, General,” cried Ñeal, leading down a narrow street, at the end of which stood a high wall, with an iron gate. This was locked, and some efforts at barricading it showed the intention of a defence; but a few strokes of a pioneer's hammer smashed the lock, and we entered a kind of

pleasure-ground, neatly and trimly kept. We had not advanced many paces when the bishop, followed by a great number of his clergy-for it happened to be the period of his annual visitation-came forward to meet us.

Humbert dismounted, and removing his chapeau, saluted the dignitary with a most finished courtesy. I could see, too, by his gesture, that he presented General Serazin, the second in command; and, in fact, all his motions were those of a well-bred guest at the moment of being received by his host. Nor was the bishop, on his side, wanting either in ease or dignity; his manner, not without the appearance of deep sorrow, was yet that of a polished gentleman doing the honors of his house to a number of strangers.

As I drew nearer I could hear that the bishop spoke French fluently, but with a strong foreign accent. This facility, however, enabled him to converse with ease on every subject, and to hold intercourse directly with our General, a matter of no small moment to either party. It is probable that the other clergy did not possess this gift, for assuredly their manner towards us, inferiors of the staff, was neither gracious nor conciliating; and as for myself, the few efforts I made to express, in English, my admiration for the coast scenery, or the picturesque beauty of the neighbourhood, were met in any rather than a spirit of politeness.

The generals accompanied the bishop into the castle leaving myself and three or four others on the outside. Colonel Charost soon made his appearance, and a guard was stationed at the entrance gate, with a strong picquet in the garden. Two sentries were placed at the hall-door, and the words

Quartier Général" written up over the portico. A small garden pavilion was appropriated to the colonel's use, and made the office of the adjutantgeneral, and in less than half-an-hour after our arrival eight sous-officiers were hard at work, under the trees, writing away at billets, contribution orders, and forage rations; while I, from my supposed fluency in English, was engaged in carrying messages to and from the staff to the various shopkeepers and tradesmen of the town, numbers of whom now flocked around us with expressions of welcome and rejoicing.

FROM Our tenderest years we have been accustomed to hear the decline of all modern art deplored, and the impossibility of its resurrection predicated. Surface connoisseurs and superficial artists have been wont to trace the superiority of colouring in the ancient masters to some mystic superiority of pigments to attribute half the beauty of the Parthenon to the beau ciel under which it rose, and to trace the glories of sculptural art to the hippodrome or the olympic course-to the facilities for, or the perfections of the sculptor's models, rather than to the aim and compass of his genius.

As if these things were not the accidents, rather than the properties of art; as if a Raphael or Michael Angelo would not do more with a piece of burnt stick than the Dutch imitator of pots and pans with the most brilliant palette of perfect colours; or that the same Dutch imitator, able and philosophic in his way, did not work out his perfections by skilful combination and scientific use of his pigments, rather than hit upon accidental results of their excellence; a thing nevertheless, excellence of material, of great importance, but which it is ridiculous to suppose that the advanced chemical science of modern times cannot insure in a degree even superior to earlier periods.

Deeper, far deeper, than inferiority of pigments, dullness of sky, difficulties or deterioration of models, lies the present unprogressiveness of the arts. The investigation of its cause or causes is well worthy of the philanthropist, the poet, the statesman, the philosopher, and the man of science, as well as of the artist himself; for the arts, properly cultivated, are ministers of beauty and enjoyment to man, agents forcible and eloquent of instruction and refinement, the types and evidences of civilisation. In proportion as they minister to the highest intellectuality are they valuable; and in proportion as this high and true aim of art has been appreciated and successfully followed out, has greatness in art been achieved.

When we talk of the unprogressive

ness of modern art, we do not mean to hark into that cant of criticism which recognises no merit in modern perfor mance, and which, with a strange antiquarian perversity, values the musty mummy of an ancient beyond any new. born babe of art promise. We believe art is ever progressing in one direction or another in some part of the world; for example, landscape-painting is more truthfully and suggestively carried out by the moderns than by the ancients; but tested as a whole by the standard of aim, there is little if any perceptible progress; and compared with the vast strides of science in invention, and achievement, art stands still. Whilst the question naturally arises-Why is this? others equally important spring up. Can it be otherwise? Is a new art era impossible? Can art-fine art-progress pari passu with science?

It is impossible not to perceive how much necessity of art as a teacher has been diminished by the introduction of printing; how much even its paramount claim as a mean of pleasurable enjoyment has been superseded by the more direct communion of thought with thought through book-study; nor how much its demand as an agent in religious impression-the field where its highest achievements have ever been attained, is diminished by the anti-symbolism of intellectual spirit-worship, and the gradual diffusion of a profound sense of the incomprehensibility of the Godhead that first element of humble, fervent worship, which rejects all material types of the Invisible. Nevertheless, there is no language so universal as art-there is no more impressive teacher than art-and though it must ever fail to realise to sense that "which eye hath not seen, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive," it can impress by idealisations, and there can be no more stimulative heart-wor ship than by the imitation of beauty with which God has adorned and surrounded man, and which he alone seems created to enjoy, appreciate, and imitate. Nor, however the practice of the arts may vary in different ages, not although they may for centuries

retrograde through the servility of schools, can the spirit of art die out amongst men, or fail to be linked in its developments with the great epochs of humanity. The more fully modern investigations disinter the facts of bygone periods, the more fully is the humanising power of art, and its necessity as an agent in universalising thought, through comprehensible expression, established. The painted cave temples of Hindostan affirm the proposition as fully as the glories of the Vatican; the huge Pyramid, or the Hypostyle Hall of Karnac, as effectively as the Parthenon of Greece, the Basilica of Rome, or the Mediaval Gothic Church, inexplicably eloquent.

But whilst the vitality of art is inextinguishable, its progress may not be constantly observable, nor can it be tested by the same laws as science. In the latter, each new discovery is a basis for further experiment and discovery, and every explorer through the illimitable fields of discovery has the whole mass of discovered knowledge to start with. Not so the artist, whose every onward step must be not in the traces, or by the aid of others, but in a great degree by the force of original genius; by persevering study, and unfailing industry, he must master the discoveries of other men by a process as tedious, perchance, as that which they went through, a process through which the achievements of others can but little facilitate him. The very mechanical excellence of imitation, or construction, which gives power and beauty to art, limits in some degree its range; it limits its spiritual range by its material necessities-necessities involving so large an amount of peculiar mechanical aptitude and individual acquirement. Again, in science, any new discovery is not only a facility, but a stimulus to progress, whilst the material excellence already achieved in the arts becomes too often the object for imitation, rather than competition -the goal rather than the distancepost-the end and aim, rather than the mean of advancement. In science, the goal is ever out of sight-it is as invisible as The Incomprehensible towards whom it tends; our greatest advances in it seem but to shew us new regions to explore. Art has impulses as high, though it may not have regions as unlimited; its stumbling-block, was the stumbling-block of the Jews-has been

that of humanity-idolatry-blind worship of the realisation, rather than search after the Spirit.

In no branch of art has the golden calf of servility been more abasingly set up for worship, or on less rational grounds, than in Architecture. One can easily conceive how the idealised perfections of the human figure achieved by the Grecian sculptors should have been ever after received, by the Caucasian race of men at least, as the type of human beauty; but though the same meed of excellence may be accorded to the Parthenon or any other temple, an excellence sui generis, it is not easy to conceive how for centuries afterwards, in every clime, men should have had no other aim than to imitate, pilfer, combine, overlay, and deface these types of particular excellence, wholly unsuited to the purposes to which they have been sought to be forced. This we say is hard to conceive, seeing that the demand for new architecture, for a development of art, suited to new purposes and phases of social life, is a perpetuity with man. Until a new spirit springs up-not a spirit for fantastic eccentricity, but for earnest originality, the arts-and their highest influences, must be in abeyance. To discover a new ornament-a new variety in proportions-a new order-has been the unphilosophic ambition of men who have groaned under the continued servile imitativeness of art.

As if any order, Doric, Ionic, or Corinthian, was ever so invented-as if they were not the graduated results of some necessity-some want in architecture, to supply which generation after generation toiled and studied until the want was supplied-the order perfected! It is by a far more expanded philosophy of aim that architecture, or any other branch of the fine arts, can be advanced.

We rejoice to find the minds of men directed now more than ever to the establishment and diffusion of this philosophy, and that the possibility of a new art era, commensurate with the science of modern times, is a problem occupying and anxiously discussed by refined and profound thinkers. And this not in the narrow spirit of inquiry whether we can equal or rival the material beauty of the ancient sculptors, the mythical profundity and earnestness of the early Christian painters-whether we can realise the lost perfection of