"I have read of his being in Armagh; difference between the Reed-Bunting and but if I mistake not, he was there as a the Sedge-Warbler ? student. Yours, Sir, "H. H. ULIDIA." "TO THE EDITOR OF THE CELT.' "DEAR SIR,-In reply to a note, in the first number of your periodical, where it is asked is the Golden Eagle extinct in Ireland ? 66 Yours, &c., Avis. 'P.S.-All my Wood-larks die at their moulting. Is there any remedy? I have, too, a Bullfinch, which has not moulted for two years, and looks shabby in the plumage; can your correspondents suggest any treatment ? Coal ? "Well, it is not. In Kerry this beautiful time in Ireland for the discovery of SeaWas there any experiment made at any bird has been seen not a month ago; and Mr. Glennon mentions county Meath as a locality where the Eagle was wont to haunt. It tenants the highest mountain ranges,' says Mr. Watters, and the most remote and inaccessible haunts, and is seldom met by sportsmen." The coasts of England and Ireland are not so distant as to have all strata obliterated, particularly when this country was formerly wooded down to the very waves. Is there any method for determining the age of seed of flowers or plants, either by their superficial appearance, the micro The Quern is said to have been only scope, or chemical test P found in Ireland and the north of Scotland. Please say if there be any notice of it elsewhere? If this assertion be true, it would be another proof of our Eastern origin, as the Quern is directly alluded to in Scripture. Have any of the readers of THE CELT ever seen a printed account of the trials of the Knights-Templars, the records of which have been taken away from Dublin Castle? Where was Sarsfield buried ? Is it true that the penal laws for confiscating Catholic property, and denouncing. to death the Catholic Priesthood are still Rare Bird-Visitors to City and County extant upon the statute books of England ? Kilkenny. The Tawney-legged Falcon, or Hobby, shot at Mount Loftus this Autumn, 1859. Waterloo-Before and After. BEFORE. THE history of the "hundred days," in which Napoleon raised an army of nearly The Golden-eyed Duck, of Yarrell, shot between the two bridges in the city, on the Nore, in the Winter of 1856. The Bittern, shot in the bogs of Arda- 400,000 men, and took the field in the allone, in Winter of 1858. most hopeless struggle against such immense forces as were pledged to his overthrow, is well known. In a letter to the allies, he begged them earnestly not to disturb the peace of Europe. After defending his course in ascending the throne of France, on the ground that the Bourbons were not fitted for the French people, and stating how he had been borne on their hearts to the capital, he used the follow-. ing noble language:-"The first wish of my heart is to repay so much affection by an honourable tranquillity. My sweetest hope is to render the re-establishment of the imperial throne a guarantee for the peace of Europe. Enough of glory has illustrated, in their turn, the standards of all nations; the vicissitudes of fate have sufficiently often made great reverses follow the most glorious success. A nobler arena is now opened to sovereigns. I will be the first to descend into it. After having exhibited to the world the spectacle of great combating, it will now be sweeter to exhibit, henceforth, no other rivalry but that of the advantage of peace-no other strife but that of the felicity of nations." To this appeal the Allied Sovereigns deigned not even a reply. This plebeian, who had covered them with confusion, should not rule the people that loved him; so they struck hands together, Austria, Prussia, Russia, and agreed to furnish a hundred and eighty thousand men each, to carry on the war. Over seven hundred thousand men were to be banded against Napoleon. The contest, of course, was desperate; for France could not always keep at bay the whole of Europe in arms. And yet, writers never tire of putting on Napoleon the crime of the carnage of Waterloo; a battle he did not wish to fight. He was not prepared for hostilities, but was forced into them by those, who, after the field was heaped with the dead, and Europe filled with mourning, turned round and pointed at him, exclaiming, "What a monster!" A monster for struggling with almost superhuman energy to prevent the invasion of his country by enemies, whose only excuse was, they did not wish Napoleon to occupy the throne of France. Against Russia, Prussia, Austria, and England, does the blood from Waterloo cry out for vengence. Nay, more, the slaughter that soon followed in the streets of Paris, These nations marched on France for precisely the same reasons. Russia invaded Hungary, and prostrated its government. No nation in Europe can advance a step in civil freedom, without bringing down upon itself the banded armies of the despotisms that surround it. in the effort to get rid of this very soveriegn they forced on France, lies at their doors. Already is Europe reaping the reward of her deeds; but the day of final reckoning has not yet come! The old officers of the army, and even the soldiers of the Guard, looked upon the contest with dismay; but the younger officers and men, dreaming of Austerlitz, Friedland, and Wagram, were filled with enthusiasm. But though the old veterans looked grave and thoughtful, they determined to battle bravely for victory, and, if it could not be won, to die on the field of honour. On the 7th of June Napoleon set out for head-quarters, and a few days after, at the head of a hundred and fifty thousand men, boldly threw himself between Blucher and Wellington. He fell on the former at Ligny, and defeated him with the Drouot's arloss of fifteen thousand men. tillery, with the columns of the Old Guard, moved against the centre of the Prussian army, as of old, and pressing on over batteries, and through clouds of cavalry, swept the field. This admirable piece of strategy, by which Napoleon separated the Prussia and English army, under ordinary circumstances would have secured him the campaign. Wellington had been completely out-generaled; and Napoleon was never more sure of victory than when he heard that his antagonist had retreated to Waterloo. There is no doubt there were traitors in his staff, for the despatch he sent Grouchy, during the night, never reached him, while, in all probability, it fell into the hands of Blucher. But, notwithstanding all this, had it not been for the heavy rain, the night before, rendering the ground too soft for artillery and cavalry to manoeuvre, so that the attack was necessarily delayed, Napoleon would inevitably have beaten Wellington before Blucher could have arrived. CHARGE OF THE OLD GUARD AT Although I have this charge in another work, yet, being the last act of its history, the closing up of its long and brilliant career, I will venture here to repeat it, giving some additional details. During the day, the artillery of the Guard, funder Drouot, maintained its old renown; and the Guard itself had frequently been used to restore the battle in various parts of the field, and always with success. The English were fast becoming exhausted, and, in an hour more, would, doubtless have been forced into a disastrous retreat, but for the timely arrival of Blucher. But when they saw him with his thirty thousand Prussians approaching, their courage revived, while Napoleon was filled with amazement. A beaten enemy was about to form a junction with the allies, while Grouchy, who had been sent to keep him in check, was nowhere to be seen! Alas! what great plans a single inefficient commander can overthrow! In a moment Napoleon saw that he could not sustain the attack of so many fresh troops, if once allowed to form a junction with the allied forces, and he determined to stake his fate on one bold cast, and endeavour to pierce the allied centre with a grand charge of the Old Guard, and thus throw himself between the two armies. For this purpose the Imperial Guard was called up, and divided into two immense columns, which were to meet in the British centre. Those under Reille no sooner entered the fire than it disappeared like mist. The other was placed under Ney," the bravest of the brave," and the order to advance given. Napoleon accompanied them part way down the slope, and halting for a moment, in a hollow, addressed them a few words: he told them the battle rested with them, and that he relied on their valour, tried in so many fields. "Vive l'Empereur "" answered him with a shout that was heard above the thunder of artillery. The whole continental struggle exhibits no sublimer spectacle than this last effort of Napoleon to save his sinking empire. The greatest military energy and skill the world possessed had been tasked to the utmost during the day. Thrones were tottering on the turbulent field, and the shadows of fugitive kings flitted through the smoke of battle. Bonaparte's star trembled in the zenith-now blazing out in its ancient splendour, now suddenly paling before his anxious eye. At last he staked his empire on one bold throw. The intense anxiety with which he watched the advance of that column, and the terrible suspense he suffered when the smoke of battle wrapped it from his sight, and the utter despair of his great heart when the curtain lifted over a fugitive army, and the desparing shriek rung out, "the Guard recoils! the Guard recoils!" make us for a moment forget all the carnage, in sympathy with his distress. The Old Guard felt the pressure of the immense responsibility, and resolved not to prove unworthy of the great trust committed to its care. Nothing could be more imposing than its movement to the assault. It had never recoiled before a human foe, and the allied forces beheld with awe its firm and steady advance to the final charge. For a moment the batteries stopped playing, and the firing ceased along the British lines, as, without the beating of a drum, or a bugle-note to cheer their steady courage, they moved in dead silence over the field. Their tread was like the sound of muffled thunder, while the dazzling helmets of the cuirassiers flashed long streams of light behind the dark and terrible mass that swept in one strong wave along. The stern Drouot was there amid his guns, and one every brow was written the unalterable resolution to conquer or die. The next moment the artillery opened, and the head of that gallant column seemed to sink into the earth. Rank after rank went down, yet they neither stopped nor faltered. Dissolving squadrons, and whole battalions disappearing one after another, in the destructive fire, affected not their steady courage. The ranks closed up as before, and each treading over his fallen comrade, pressed unflinchingly on. The plough through their ranks, disdaining to turn their backs to the foe. Michel, at the head of those brave battalions, fought like a lion. To every command of the enemy to surrender, he replied, "The Guard dies, it never surrenders," and with his last breath bequeathing this glorious motto to the Guard, he fell a witness to its truth. Death traversed those eight battalions with such a rapid footstep, that they soon dwindled to two, which turned, in hopeless daring, on the overwhelming numbers that pressed their retiring footsteps. Last of all, but a single battalion, the debris of the "column of granite" at Marengo, was left. Into this Napoleon. flung himself. Cambronne, its brave commander, saw, with terror, the Emperor in its frail keeping. He was not struggling for victory, he was intent only on showing how the Guard should die. Approaching the Emperor, he cried out, "Retire! Do you not see that death has no weed of you?" and closing mournfully yet sternly round their expiring eagles, those brave hearts bade Napoleon an eternal adieu, and flinging themselves on the enemy, were soon piled with the dead at their feet. horse which Ney rode fell under him, and Many of the officers were seen to destroy themselves, rather than survive defeat. Thus greater, in its own defeat, than any other corps of men in gaining a victory, the Old Guard passed from the stage, and the curtain dropped upon its strange career! It had fought its last battle!! No one can contemplate this termination of its history without the profoundest emotion-the greatness of its deeds and the grandeur of its character endeared it to all who love heroic action and noble achievements; and as one runs back in imagination over its terrible campaigns, it is with the deepest sorrow he is comStill those vete-pelled to bid it farewell on the fatal field But there is one aspect in which the Old Guard is not generally viewed-it did as much for human liberty as any army, from that of Gustavus Adolphus, down. I do not pretend to say how much the troops were governed by this motive-how many or how few fought solely for glory; but that Old Guard never made a charge, with the exception of the last, that did not give an impulse to human liberty. Every time it broke the ranks of the despots of Europe, armed against the free principles working in France, it wrenched a fetter from the human mind. In short, it carried the liberty of Europe on the points of its sabres. The wild waking up during the last few years is the working of the leaven of French principles, or rather I should say of American principles, sown by French hands. All honour, then, to the Old Guard for breaking up the iron frame-work of feudalism which had rusted so long in its place, that nothing but a stroke that should heave and rend everything asunder could affect its firmness. As I said before, I do not ascribe the same motives to the Old Guard that existed in the hearts of the soldiers of the American army or Cromwell's troops. Still they err much who, deriving their ideas from English history, suppose they had no definite idea of the struggle they were engaged in. The very fact that Napoleon cloaked his occupation of the Tuileries by calling on his Guard to wear crape for Washington, "who, like themselves, had fought against | tyranny," shows how strongly rooted republican principles were in their hearts. They knew that hostilities were first commenced by the allied powers for the sole and undisguised purpose of destroying the French republic, and crushing the principles of freedom. They also well knew that the tremendous combinations that were constantly formed against France had no other object than to defend feudalism and establish the old order of things. All this the commonest soldier knew and talked about in his bivouac. The troops often stormed over intrenchments singing republican songs. The continental monarchs also well understood the struggle, and foresaw what has since occurred-the uprising of the people, and the humiliation of royalty. The general, it is true, had become Emperor, but the code he gave the people bestowed on them all the freedon they knew how to use with safety to the government. Every proclamation Napoleon made to a quered state, every change he proposed to a government, was an immense stride in the onward march of civil liberty. It was on this account his overthrow was sought with such eagerness. While he occupied the throne the old order of things threatened momentarily to disappear. AFTER. The remains of the French army, after the battle of Waterloo, fell back toward Paris, whither the allies were already marching. The debris of the Old Guard were stationed in the environs to impose on the enemy, for the general belief was that the city would be defended. Since its last capture it had been strongly fortified, and could now make a firm resistance. But the rout of the Old Guard had discouraged Paris more than the destruction of two armies would have done. The two Chambers were thrown into the greatest agitation. Lafayette, in the Chamber of Deputies,offered a resolution calling on Napoleon to abdicate. At first the latter could not believe it would endeavour to dethrone him, but all men saw that France must wage an endless war if she retained Napoleon; for nothing short of his overthrow would satisfy the allies. It was to gratify the wish of a disheartened nation that he finally consented to abdicate in favour of his son, Napoleon II. But the army did not view things in the same way. Two regiments of the Guard, followed by a vast multitude, passed under the terrace of Elysee Bourbon, where Napoleon was, demanding with loud cries that their Emperor should put himself at their head, and conduct them against the enemy. Napoleon harangued them, urging them to quietness. An orator of the populace, in replying to him, mentioned the 18th Brumaire. The Emperor, interrupting him, exclaimed, "You recall to my remem |