discloses on the one side a cross incised, on the other a network of floral decorations in relief. To trace these in their completeness, it would be necessary to accomplish the not easy task of removing the coating of lichen.

There is something very pleasant in dubious wanderings with small or even no definite results, through such scenery as Argyllshire affords; but if the investigator desires to economise time, he can hardly fail to raise his game if he go to any spot which has the word "Kil" prefixed to its name. Whether or not it be the Celtic equivalent of Cella or Cell, it expresses an ecclesiastical establishment of some kind or other, the vestiges of which are seldom totally obliterated. At the head of Lochfine, near Dunderar, the grim tower of the Macnaughtons, which, from some decorations on it, looks hugely like as if it had been built in the seventeenth century with the stones of an old church-we find a tuft of trees with a dyke round it, called Kilmorich. It is a graveyard evidently, though it may not have been recently opened; the surface is uneven, and several rough stones, which may have been placed there at any time, stick through the earth. These, after a deliberate inspection, are found to have nothing of a sculptural character. But a small piece of rounded stone appears above the grass, and a little grubbing discloses a font, faintly decorated with some primitive fluting, on which a stonemason would look with much scorn; and a scratching of a galley, the symbol of the Argyll family, or some other of the races descended from ancient sea-kings. This gives enThis gives encouragement, and a sharper glance around betrays a singular-looking rounded headstone, with two crescentshaped holes. There are corresponding holes on the portion under the sod, which thus completes the rounded head of an ancient Scoto-Irish cross. The next point is to find the shaft it lies not far off, deep in the turf. And when we take the grass and moss from its face, it discloses some extremely curious quadrilateral decorations, quite peculiar, and not in

mity with any type of form

which would enable its date to be guessed at within a century or two of the reality.

Passing through the rich woods of Ardkinglas, in a few miles we reach the burying-ground, called of old Kilmaglas, but now the well-kept churchyard, in which stands the modern church of Strachur. The answer made to our inquiry about the mode of entrance to the churchyard would have gratified an ethnologist in search of evidence of the Irish origin of the Highlanders. We were recommended to get over the wall, and remove the stone behind the gate. The interior well rewards the exertion made to reach it. Here are several fine specimens of sculpture. Some stones, not of the oldest type, have the crossed sword, symbolical alike of the warrior character of the dead, and the religion of peace in which he rests. One has a shears-emblematic that it is dedicated to a woman. There is one with a figure in full chainarmour, and others, again, of an older date, are ornamented with the geometric knottings and reticulations which some antiquaries are in the habit of calling runic or mystic knots

it is much the same which-and of associating, as we have seen, with the Druids. Descending a few miles farther, in the small fertile delta of the Lachlan, and overshadowed almost by the old square castle of the M'Lachlans, there is a bushy enclosure which may be identified as the old burial-place of Kilmory. A large block of hewn stone, with a square hole in it, sets one in search of the cross of which it was the socket. This is found in the grass, sadly mutilated, but can be recognised by the stumps of the branches which once exfoliated into its circular head. Beside it lies a flat stone, on which a sword is surrounded by graceful floral sculpture. Let us cross over again to the valley perforated by Loch Crinan. Northward of the canal there is a remarkable diluvial district, through which, although it seems crowded with steep mountain summits, we can travel over many a mile of flat turf. From this soil the hills and rocks rise with extreme abruptness, in ridges at the border of the plain, and in isolated peaks here and

there throughout its surface. These seem at one time to have been islands in the water; and some topographers say that the waters of Lochawe must have come by this direction, and so passed into the sea, instead of tumbling out, as they now do, through the chasm between the bold bluffs of the Brander. But it must have been long long since the waters subsided, at least from a great portion of the plain, since it bears on its surface ancient relics of man's hand. Here there is a great barrow like a pyramid, with a chamber roofed with long stones in its centre. Near it is one of those circles of rough stones called Druidical, and farther on there is another, and then another; some of them tall pillars, others merely peeping above ground. They literally people the plain. This must have been a busy neighbourhood, whatever sort of work it may have been that went on around these untooled fragments of the living rock, which have so distracted our antiquaries in later centuries. If they were the means or the object of any kind of heathen worship, then the existence close beside them of the vestiges of early Christianity may be set down as an illustration of the well-known historical opinion, that the first Christian missionaries, instead of breaking the idols and reviling the superstitions of those whom they went to convert, professed to bring a new sanctity to their sacred places, and endeavoured to turn their impure faith, with the least possible violence, into the path of purity. At all events, these primeval relics may be counted evidence of early inhabitancy, and of advance in civilisation, such as it was; and thus it was in the real life that frequented that fruitful valley, rather than in the barren mountains further inland, that the Christian missionary set himself down to do good.

Our first trial is at Kilmichael, about three miles from Lochgilp, and rather more than a mile from Carn Ban inn. The churchyard is extremely fruitful in sculptured stones of various kinds-some floral, others geometrical, with wild beasts, monsters, and human figures. One of hem was pointed out as the tomb of

a member of the house of Campbell, who bore the name of Thomas, and was a great bard, and lived in London and other great cities-Thomas Campbell, in short. It seems to be true that his fathers were buried in Kilmichael churchyard, but our informant seemed to struggle with an idea that the stone covered with the sculpture of a far past century had been really raised to his honour. The next generation will probably speak with entire confidence on the subject, though his dust has been worthily deposited in Westminster Abbey. The genesis of such traditions is eurious. The stone called Rob Roy's tomb, which lies beside an ancient font in the churchyard of Balquhidder, is a sculptured stone raised for some one who had probably died in wealth and honour hundreds of years before Rob stole cattle.

Kilbride, four or five miles further on, beckons us forward. We are led off the alluvial plain by the edge of a clattering burn up into a narrow secluded glen. Its lower level is rich in foliage, but it is on the bare brow of the higher range that we are taught to find the Kil. It has no sculptures, at least we could find none; but, standing on the lone mountain-side, what seemed at a distance a ruined house, turned out to be the almost complete walls of a small church, with a Norman door and two lancet windows.

Returning to the alluvial land about four miles further on, we reach Kilmartin, a village with a large modern church. Its graveyard is graced with many sculptured stones-twenty-five may be counted, conspicuous for their rich carving and excellent preservation. On one or two of the latest in date, there are knightly figures clad in chain-mail. A local antiquary could probably trace these home to some worshipful families in the neighbourhood, but there are others beyond the infancy of the oldest authentic pedigrees. While the stones in the eastern counties are all of extremely remote antiquity, offering no link of connection with later times, these Highland specimens seem to carry their peculiarities with modified variations through several centuries into times comparatively late. There are

among them stones bearing some types of extreme antiquity, and others which undoubtedly proclaim themselves as no older than the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries. It may be held as a safe axiom that a modern work may contain ancient features, but an ancient work can never be legitimately possessed of modern features. It is sometimes a difficult task, in judging of antiquities, to make a sufficient allowance for the spirit of imitation. There is nothing certainly more natural than that a new tombstone should be made after the fashion of time-honoured monuments, the pride of the graveyard in which it is to be placed. In Kilmartin there are two decided imitations of the more ancient class of the western sculptured stones. Though the symbols and decorations which they bear are of ancient outline, the heavy, and at the same time, accurate and workmanlike way in which they are cut, would mark them indubitably as modern, even if the one did not bear the date of 1707, and the other of 1711.

There is a uniform legend over the Western Highlands, that all the crosses and sculptured stones scattered about, singly or in groups, have been removed from Iona. The way to find them, indeed, is to ask for "Iona stones," and it may save a useless journey, when hopes have been founded on any particular Kil, to ask whether there are any Iona stones there. Sometimes you will obtain a

A

very distinct legend how the robbers of Relig Oran had landed one cargo of stones in safety, but in their attempt to bring a second, they were pursued by the active police of Iona, and shipwrecked in the flight. solemn confidential Highlander will even tell you that the vessel was wrecked there, where the stones are easily seen at low-water mark; and will enter, as a matter of business, into all the arrangements for rowing you over the spot at the proper time for seeing them, or even for having them raised. But when the proper time comes, he explains that he has not seen them himself, and somebody else must be got as a guide who has seen them, and that somebody else cannot be found anywhere, although there is no doubt that the stones are there, and can be seen there by anybody who looks for them. Although, with all the modern facilities for the removal of bulky articles by sea, it would be both a costly and precarious task to ship and unship some of the monuments said to have been thus surreptitiously carried off, the tradition has found supporters. They rely on the zeal with which the reformers removed from Iona such things as they counted monuments of idolatry. But surely we must produce also a far more vehement zeal in favour of these monuments to account for their being carefully conveyed, all of them across a stormy sea, and many of them several miles inland, to be set down in safety and honour.

AGAIN the course of events is directing the progress of British influence and empire towards the savage mountains and wild deserts of Central Asia, which, possibly enough, may never directly repay the cost of occupation, but constitute not the less on that account the citadel of the East, and would be most valuable to us in political and military points of view.

Our first occupation of Affghanistan promised well for a time; Kabul, Kandahar, and Khelat, willingly yield ed to our troops; but incapacity and infatuation were so predominant in our councils, that the fierce mountaineers soon asserted their independence by those terrible massacres which, for a time, turned the eyes of Englishmen with such intense anxiety upon the distant East. We repassed the Kyber, in order to vindicate our power, but after reoccupying Kabul, retired from the then unprofitable conquest, and were content to leave the Belooches undisturbed, and the blood of Loveday and his soldiers unavenged. Shortly before, and during our occupation of Afghanistan, much was done by enterprising travellers to extend our knowledge of that and neighbouring parts of the world: Conolly passed from the Caspian to Herat, from Herat to Kabul, and thence through the north of Beloochistan into Sind; Wood discovered the sources of the Oxus; Moorcroft perished to the north of the Hindu Koosh; even Khiva, and Bokhara, and ancient Samarkand, beheld adVenturous wanderers from England. But after the disastrous events just alluded to, Central Asia was tabooed, and remained for many years a subjeet of unmentionable horror to the Anglo-Indian official mind. A very strong reaction set in against any further attempts to advance the western boundaries of British India. All the passes which opened on British territory were closed except to a few Affghan and Hindu merchants. Intelligent officials were politely reproved whenever they

de representations on the subject

to the Supreme Government. Sir Charles Napier, indeed, backed by Lord Ellenborough, contrived to annex Sind, but his conquest was looked upon with no favourable eyes by the Court of Directors and by the Government of Bombay; it was submitted to as a necessary evil, rather than welcomed, which it might have been, as an inevitable and important measure. Even the conquest of the Punjaub was avoided as far as possible, although that country is the crown of India, and though Hindostan, from the first invasion down to the establishment of the Delhi empire, has always been conquered from the North. In vain Sir Charles Napier desired to proceed against it while it was threatening us, and he was in Sind. And when at last we did conquer it, the East India Directors and their Governor-General were volunteers in the matter, only in the sense in which the word was used by the sepoy officer of a forlorn hope who, on being taunted for his backwardness, and being asked if he and his band were not volunteers, candidly replied, "Ha, Sahib hum Bolumteer hain, lekun kushe se nahin jate”— Yes, Master, we are volunteers, but we do not go of our own free will.

New circumstances, however, bring new views, and the feeling against interference with the affairs of Central Asia appears to have diminished in strength. In warfare against the wild tribes, our military operations would no more be dependent on the enmity or friendship of native rulers, their intrigues or precarious assistance; for any military force may now be concentrated to the west of the Indus, with a plentiful supply of food and military stores, and with the certainty of these being replenished regularly. It is beginning now to be seen that the key to the Punjaub and Hindostan, to Balkh, Bokhara, Tartary, and the Russian possessions on the north, to Herat and Persia on the west, lies in Kabul among the mountains of Kabulistan. It is also

felt that a great nation cannot lay down any frontier, and resolve not to be tempted past that. There was as much wisdom in the Saxon king's attempt to stay the advancing waves, as there is in the policy of those statesmen who fancy that they can confine the advance of a nation within certain geographical limits. In fact, the very powers which we desire not to disturb often compel us to encroach, by beseeching us to interfere in their internal affairs, or attacking and annoying us if we refuse to do so. Thus, for instance, Dost Mohammed himself besought us, in 1855, to make a treaty of friendship with him; in 1857 we see, among other consequences, British troops not far from Kabul. Considerable sums of money have been paid to the Khan of Khelat and other chiefs. A large fleet of vessels has conveyed a strong land-force to the attack of Persia. Old books of travel in the East have been sought out and eagerly studied. The vast district of country which lies westwards of the Indus is no longer a forbidden land, but one in which the English name is again powerful for a very great distance, and one in many parts of which an Englishman will be made heartily welcome. And though it is neither right nor prudent to push an action in this matter, yet possibly enough the day may not be far distant when English stations will be established in the Bolan and Kyber passes; when the mystery and savagery of Central Asia will vanish under British enterprise and rule.

In these present circumstances, and under the first shadow of coming events, it may not be amiss for us to give some sketches of Central Asia, of its inhabitants and their singular life. Abundance of interesting material on this subject exists in works already published; but these works are in themselves so well worthy of perusal, that we prefer drawing on the stock of our own personal experience, not without the hope that even a few slight sketches may direct some readers to the writings of more enterprising and accomplished travellers. For, perhaps, there is no literature more peculiarly Brit

ish, and almost none more worthy of careful perusal, than that which relates to explorative travel. The peculiar genius which enables a man both to undertake and describe such travel, involves many high qualities of mind and character. Instinctive it may be, even as that of the statesman, the warrior, or the poet; but it is a rare and noble instinct, wisely implanted by the hand of God in a few of our race. It is an instinct which was necessary to the progress of the world, which opened the path to the founders of our Indian empire, and tracked over the wild Atlantic the way to the wide-waving cornfields and sugar-brakes of America. Far be it from us to make any pretensions to such peculiar distinction. Indeed, it is rather difficult now to find an explorable new country, and the enterprising traveller will soon have to mourn, like Alexander, over a conquered world. In the loneliest dell of Cachmere, Alastor would meet, not the Spirit of Solitude, but some sporting officer or sallow Punjaub civilian enjoying a few weeks' leave. The ascent of the "heaven-ascending" peaks of the Gavahir themselves would be embittered by the recollection of a book having been published with the impertinent title, "A Walk over the Himalayas," as if the walk was quite insignificant a mere Saturday afternoon's exploit. From Baghdad to the Caspian, and from the Caspian to Herat, the Hindu Koosh, and farther Bokhara, we may tread in the footsteps of our countrymen who have gone before, and add our stones to the lonely cairns of those who have fallen by the way. But though Central Asia affords no field for geographical discovery, yet it presents vast districts almost unknown and peopled by singular savage nomads, and may readily afford more interesting material for description than any which can be gathered on the great highways of the world. More particularly, we hope to entertain the reader when he passes with us through the Hala mountains into Beloochistan, and encamps (in fancy as we in recollection) by the wells of ancient Gedrosia, from which not more than two or three Europeans have drank since the ground was trampled round