676 a new retreat. THE LAST CAMPAIGN IN AMERICA (whose cavalry outnumbered that of the generalship and larger resources. Hood lanta. The advance was none the less unbroken; and when. Sherman was preparing elaborately for his passage of the Chattahoochie, he was relieved of a great part of his difficulties by the removal of the formidable opponent whose personal ability he fully appreciated. President Davis, who had since the days of Vicksburg been on but indifferent terms with Johnston, had yielded to the clamor raised against the latter for so repeatedly giving ground, and now superseded him in favor of one of his corps commanders, General Hood, known hitherto as a gallant soldier and bold general of division, but in no way marked for the higher qualities of command. This step, so fatal to the Confederate interests in that quarter, was the more inexcusable, in that Johnston's policy of retreating when liable to be thoroughly outflanked was just what Lee had used-as has been previously shown-at the same time, without a word of blame from any quarter. The progress of the Federals thenceforward has been due both to superior line of works which his predecessor had way of this move the 2nd of September, and the first object of the campaign was gained. Here for a time Sherman paused, and was occupied with storing his new acquisition, and preparing to use it for a new advance. The security of his system of supply had been already sharply tested by the Confederate cavalry, which had been occupied during the recent operations in a vast raid carried as far as Nashville, in the vain hope of interrupting it. Their absence had greatly contributed to Hood's inability to discern and check his adversary's movement, while the design which thus removed Wheeler at a critical juncture had so completely failed that, in Sherman's own words, "No matter when or where a break has been made, the 'repair train' seemed on the spot, and the damage was repaired generally before I knew of the break." The Federal general was therefore fully prepared to push forward with similar precautions to Macon, or beyond it, when his arrangements should be matured; and Hood's reduced numbers gave no promise of opposing him to any effect. But from the first it seemed probable that the Confederates would prefer to use their lesser force to attempt a counter-stroke on his rear at Chattanooga or Nashville; and in such case he had resolved to invade the country beyond by the bolder means proved practicable in the spring, and to attempt that opening of the Savannah river, and consequent severing of the Confederacy, which had been denied to the forces acting from the sea. To this end he chiefly turned his thoughts, and during the long space allowed to the inhabitants of Atlanta to remove from what had for the time become a mere Federal depot, in apparently unguarded conversations with all classes he drew the needful intelligence of the state and resources of the country through which he purposed to pass. It will now be seen that the subsequent movements of Hood, first westward—thus isolating himself from the Confederate centre-and then upon the railroad, was just what his opponent desired. For a time Sherman followed him, and, as was expected, found him unwilling to run the risk of another battle. Hood having utterly failed by surprise to make any important rupture of the line, yielded Dalton, the only station he had taken, to the advance of the Federals, and moved again westward into Alabama, preparing there to cross the Tennessee. This left Sherman opportunity for the full development of his project on Savannah; and his greatly superior force enabled him to leave a sufficient guard for his railroad under Thomas (who has most ably performed his allotted task of occupying the rash invader without yielding any decisive point), and to carry a perfectly equipped army of 45,000 men through the heart of the State thus exposed. The details of the march to the Ogeechee are fresh in the memory of our readers; and all may discern the ability of the strategy and the excellence of the organization to which its success is due; while juster information* than mere Confederate rumor shows that the movement has been conducted with a marked observance of discipline and abstinence from outrage. And while we close this notice, the telegraph brings word that the capture of Savannah has rewarded the long toil begun at Nashville; and with it comes the most striking of commentaries in the news, that what the army alone has there accomplished, army and fleet combined have failed to do at Wilmington, attacked by them from the seaward side. That Sherman's triumph brings the war near to its close we do not attempt to predict. To us it seems that the end of the struggle is even more a political and financial than a military question. But we return to our original thesis in declaring that this great contest abounds with important professional lessons, to which a new one has been added by the autumn events in Georgia. If a general's perfect adaptation of given means to a required end-if careful forethought in design, with a just mixture of audacity and caution in execution-may fairly challenge our admiration; Sherman's campaign in 1864, and those of Grant and Lee in the preceding years, seem not unworthy to be classed with the highest achievements which the annals of modern warfare record. * Sherman's orders in detail have already been published, and were most precise as to respect for persons and property, even to avoiding dis Frazer's Magazine. THE HIERARCHY OF ART. PART II. gen eral and also with special application to two out of the five great Arts, namely, Poetry and Music, and their various reproductions and receptions. There remain three other Primary Arts, of which, with their Secondary and Tertiary forms, it now behoves us to treat, viz., Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting. buildings which are erected mainly as works of Art, must always be trifling compared to those constructed for definite utilitarian purposes. We build houses, fortresses, churches, that we In the preceding part of this essay it may dwell in them, use them for miliwas maintained that the priesthood of tary operations, perform in them reliArt had three orders-the Primary, or gious services; but not mainly or priCreative; the Secondary, or Reproduc-marily to create works of architectural tive; and the Tertiary, or Receptive. Art. Indeed, the edifices which may The relation of these orders to each other be considered purely artistic are not at was discussed in reference to Art in first sight easily discoverable. Almost every building (except such a merely fantastic thing as a modern imitation temple) has another purpose beside Art. A man makes a poem, a piece of music, a statue, or a picture, because he wishes to express something beautiful, and (if he be a true artist) for no other reason. But very rarely indeed does any one Architecture differs from the other erect an edifice, large or small, without four great Arts in one remarkable par- side expressing beauty in the abstract. having in view some other purpose beticular. Poetry, Music, Sculpture, and Painting, can and ought always to be exSome want must be supplied, some ercised purely for their own sakes and not event recorded, some convenience atfor any ulterior purpose. The rule of detained, by almost every building which Art pour l'Art is clear and literal as regards them. When any of these arts is practiced principally with a view to some other object beside Art, their proper character is deteriorated if not destroyed -be that other object in itself never so good and laudable. The Beautiful is an end in itself, the true and only end of Art. The Good, indeed, and the True are so inseparably linked with the Beautiful that every work really attaining the Beautiful must partake of Truth and Goodness. But it is not for the sake of men think of constructing. Thus for Architecture, the great rule of de l' Art pour Art must, it appears, be taken with some modification. What may this mod ification be? It would seem that the principle on which a work of Architecture must be admitted to rank as pure Art, or excluded from such claim, is this-when the purpose of a building is such that the architect is free to consult Beauty before Utility, then that building may be pure Art. When the purpose is such that the architect must consult Utility before Beauty, then the building can not be pure Art. instilling Truth or preaching Goodness But this great principle which holds good through all the realms of Art, and is of easy application as regards Poetry, Music, Sculpture, and Painting, is found hard to reconcile with the necessities of Architecture. The number of In the first case the purpose meredesignates the character of the work, leaving the artist to the full development of whatever sense of beauty he may possess. In the second case, the purpose overrides the whole work, limiting in every direction the artist's idea of beauty by considerations altogether apart from those of art. Only those edifices which belong to the first class are to be criticised from the standpoint of pure Architecture, and this class we must suppose to constitute not only true Art but the best art which Architecture can creficers noted for maintaining strict discipline, and ate. Fancy temples, even such pretty may be trusted to have seen them rigidly obeyed. ones as those in the Villa Reale, at Na training for the army supplies without leaving food for the inhabitants. Howard and Slocum, the executive officers of his columns, were old of- ! In his whole design Beauty must be subordinate to Use. If he transgress this principle and endeavor to make Art paramount in an edifice designed for Use; and, to accomplish this end, insert much that is useless, and omit much that would have been useful, out of regard for Art, he commits an egregious mistake-a similar one to that of the poet or painter who makes a poem or a picture the vehicle of moral lessons or scientific information. He errs as to the very purpose of his work; and the inhabitant of the house which has been made uncomfortable to make it architectural, or the audience in a musical-hall which has been unfitted for music to suit the laws of proportion, have each a right to denounce the architect's work as a failure and an impertinence. His business was first to make a habitable house and a good hall, suited according to the principles of acoustics for hearing music. Only when he had secured comfortable habitability and unshattered sound was he at liberty to think of architectural beauty. ples, seem always to involve some de-neys are beautiful, but because the peogree of folly, if not of impertinence. We ple who are to use his building will want intuitively expect a building to have a warmth; and so on through every departpurpose of utility (be it only that of a ceno- ment. taph), and are not contented to learn that it exists only for its own sake as a beautiful object. If we are told a building has no reason of existence beyond its supposed beauty, we experience a sense of being trifled with, and regard the work, however graceful it may be, as in some way incongruous and idle. On the other hand, again, the purpose for which a work claiming to be architectural Art is destined, must needs be an elevated one. The lower forms of Utility, even were they compatible with beauty, would make high Art ridiculous. A grand building destined to be a shop or shambles would have all its beauty of Form nullified to the imagination by its unbeautiful Purpose. But buildings devoted to Religion, Justice, or the memory of the mighty dead, have, in their noble purposes, elements of grandeur auxiliary in the highest degree to the effect of any beauty they may possess. Thus we arrive at the conclusion that the universal principle of all the Arts, de l'Art pour l'Art, "Art for Art's sake, having no other purpose," must be modified as regards Architecture-" Art having the end of Art (i. e., Beauty) for its predominant purpose, and some elevated utility for its subordinate purpose.” The buildings which may or may not be thus classed as belonging to pure Art, may now be sufficiently easily defined. All kinds of human abodespalaces, castles, houses, cottages; all kinds of business erections-factories, warehouses, shops, markets, schools, must necessarily be excluded. The architect who designs such buildings is called upon to consider first of all the utility of his work; what the people who will inhabit his house or use his school will require for their accommodation. The walls, corridors, and chambers must be constructed of the size and form they will need, whether by so doing they accord or disaccord with the ends of Art. He must make windows, not because the beauty of his façade will be improved by them, but because the inhabitants of his rooms will require light. He must build chimneys, not because chim The scope of pure Art in Architecture being narrowed by the exclusion of all such buildings as we have considered, and all those which must obviously be classed along with them, there remain only two descriptions of edifices whose position is to be determined, namely, Religious Edifices and Monuments. We will discuss these questions as carefully as possible. ist, Are religious edifices susceptible of becoming works of pure art? Two very different ideas of what is a religious edifice may be traced among mankind. To the old Greek a temple was a house of the gods, wherein the blessed and beautiful Immortals sojourned to receive the homage of men. To the modern English Protestant a church is man's place of prayer, whereto he resorts to perform exercises of devotion (more conveniently paid there than elsewhere), addressed to a Being who is equally present in all other places. Between these two opposite conceptions lie a hundred shades of belief which have called into existence fanes intended for every form of worship ranging from the most mate- | their prayer-books, assuming proper posrial to the most spiritual. tures, or enjoying such an atmosphere as may leave their lungs free from irritation, it is plain enough that the most impressive architecture can do little to solem When we conceive of a temple as a house for such a being of beauty and power as one of the old gods of Olympus, it is clear that the office of the archi-nize their minds. The architect of such tect would be simply to design the most perfectly beautiful house he could imagine-an ideal edifice uniting every element of grandeur and grace. In doing this, the idea of beauty would be his primary idea, just as in the case of an architect building a modern mansion, the idea of utility would be primary. Regard for convenience of worshippers would be secondary to the Greek architect, just as beauty would be secondary to the modern one. Here, then, the Greek would work in the field of Pure Art. His edifice would be as strictly a work of Art, ruled by the principle, de l'Art pour l'Art, as that of any sculptor or painter. On the other hand, when we conceive of a Protestant church as a place for the performance of human exercises of devotion, it is clear that the office of the architect of such a church is before all things to design a building calculated to fulfil that purpose by such arrangement of size, shape, light, sound, as shall best enable the congregation to go through the offices therein to be performed. A church in which the people can not see or hear the minister, or the minister conveniently perform his rites, or in which the music is badly heard, or light, or air, or warmth, or means of entrance and egress deficient a church with any such defects is a failure, however beautiful its architecture may be. True, the architect, after securing these objects, ought, if possible, to add further such beauty and solemnity of style as may serve to impress the minds of the congregation with sentiments befitting religious service. But although this secondary duty of the architect might at first sight appear a primary one (and would probably be so considered by minds of the High Church type), it can not strictly be so accounted. Protestants frequent their churches not to undergo æsthetic influences, but to join in certain forms of worship and to listen to certain predications. If they are all the time vainly struggling against adverse physical conditions preventing them from hearing their minister, seeing a church will have made a gross mistake in building even the most beautiful edifice with these defects. It may be added that the special requirements of a northern climate, and of the more Calvinistic forms of Protestanism unite every possible difficulty and disadvantage in the way of sacred architecture, just as the climate and simple sacrifices of Greece afforded it every possible advantage and facility. A really beautiful edifice, suited to Evangelical worship on an English winter's day, may be said to be an impossibility; and it is a fortunate coincidence that the same minds which prefer such worship should be usually indifferent to architectural beauty. It is a question not to be too contemptuously dismissed, whether, after all, the supposed revival of church architecture in England has not been a mistake, and whether the much-abused square chapels and churches of sixty or eighty years ago, with their direct and simple suitability to the actual necessities of the cultus to be performed in them, were not in better taste (supposing them to be handsome and grave of their kind) than all our recent mediæval imitations. Catholic churches and cathedrals have a much nearer claim to be works of pure Art than Protestant ones; and for this reason, that they resemble much more in character the Greek temple than the Protestant place of prayer. A Catholic church, in the first place, always contains the Host-believed to be a divine presence, specially located within the building; commonly, also, it is the shrine of some dead saint, over whose bones the edifice is a sacred monument. Although prayers are used, the chief religious service (namely the mass) hardly requires any arrangement for the congregation; nor even for the occasional sermon is preparation made beyond a pulpit fixed against some convenient column. The processions, for which space is wanted, afford rather scope for the architect's ideas of grandeur than any check to his fancy. When we add to all this that in |