may fail, in some cases, of having the desired effect. Amidst so extensive a community several will, no doubt, be actuated by various inclinations. Of those who may be fit subjects for emigration, some may be willing to avail themselves of it, and some may not. Some may have a wish to engage in the different departments of industry at home, while others may not feel so inclined. It is therefore desirable that the promoters of the Highlanders' welfare should, in a sense, endeavour to be "all things to all men," and thus render the means of relief as various as may be consistent with prudence, and judicious arrangement.

It is well known that the Highlanders have always been a brave and warlike race of people, and though their spirit has, no doubt, suffered considerably of late, through adversity in various forms, yet their characteristic valour, if called forth, would still be an honour to their name and country. To part with brave soldiers, if required as such, would be parting with so much of the national strength. Might not service in Her Majesty's forces be offered to such Highlanders as are inclined to accept of it, in preference to other employments? Might it not be consistent with expediency to raise a "New Regiment of the Isles," and to give the Highlanders another opportunity of distinguishing themselves in the field of honour, as the descendants of brave and dauntless heroes? Let their deeds in former times be for a moment called to recollection-deeds by which the mighty fell, and by which the fame of the victors shall live for ever in the annals of history? As a specimen of their bravery, some of the brilliant achievements of the Black Watch may be called to remembrance, as they were the first Highland corps called to the service of their king and country. This regiment was at first made up of men who held a distinguished rank in society-young chieftains, cadets of principal families, and gentlemen's sons! When garbed in their sombre tartan, and armed with their broadswords, pistols, and dirks, they formed a beautiful contrast with the dazzling scarlet dress of other regiments. As this celebrated body was composed of brave and spirited men, it might be expected that their deeds of valour would be great and glorious! Their gallantry shined forth in brilliant colours at the battle of Fontenoy, fought on the 11th May 1745. This was the first opportunity they had of meeting foemen on the open field of strife. But the most deadly scene in which they were ever engaged was the siege of Ticonderago, in the United States of North America, on the 7th July 1750. In this desperate and sanguinary struggle, a part of them rushed, with more gallantry than prudence, through the barricades and breastworks of the fort, and plunged with a fearful charge among the enemy, against whose deadly fire they had previously stood for hours! The affair crowned the survivors with laurels which shall never wither-laurels which shall last while valorous deeds continue to be recorded in history. As their bravery and loyalty on this memorable day excited the admiration of the world, their Sovereign was pleased to honour them with the name of "Royal." They subsequently distinguished themselves in a manner equally brave in the West Indies, and in various other quarters. In the celebrated Expedition to Egypt, under Sir Ralph Abercromby, this gallant corps, as well as other Highland regiments, fought with most heroic courage. They could submit to no odious dominion, nor could they bear any oppressive or

degrading yoke. Aboukir Bay and Alexandria will ever testify of Highland bravery. In those places evolutions were executed, and charges made, which no human power could resist, and the enemy only stood before the magnanimous sons of Scotia like chaff before the wind. It were needless to recount the various battles in which these noble soldiers had a noble share during the Peninsular war. Let Wellington, that renowned "hero of a hundred Battles," bear testimony to the manly conduct and valorous exploits of the Highlanders. General Lord Hill, that humane nobleman, will also feel pleasure in calling to recollection the bravery of the 42d, the 93d, and the 79th Highlanders in their various campaigns abroad. At Vittoria, the Pyrenees, Orthes, Toulouse, and in various other deadly skirmishes, how nobly did they acquit themselves under the command of that brave General! Perhaps there was no General to whom the Highlanders were more devotedly attached than Lord Hill. Even in active service they looked upon him as their "father," and were wont to call him by that endearing name. Such proofs of genuine. respect must be a pleasing source of comfort to that gallant commander, and cannot fail to be one of his most agreeable reminiscences.

Under the choicest generalship, therefore, the Highlanders desperately fought for the freedom of that land which gave them birth. The cause of justice, liberty, and truth was then at stake, and though some deemed it infatuation even to oppose the formidable legions of the enemy, yet the best of soldiers, under the best of Generals, rushed into the struggle, fierce as the storm of their native hills, and swift as the eagles of heaven flying over their crags and mountains. Thus they obtained the victory!

On the plains of Waterloo the Highlanders acquired the consummation of that fame which had hitherto been so deservedly great. It is said that Napoleon himself could not refrain from expressing his admiration of these brave and warlike men. The stakes to be divided by the fate of that memorable day were, in their nature, most important. The glory and pride of the French nation on the one side, and on the other the patriotism, the liberty, and the glory of Great Britain! For a time the conflict was desperate and deadly. In every quarter the hardy race of Albion did fearful havoc amid the hostile ranks. No barrier could then oppose them, fighting for their liberty and their country. On that eventful day the two greatest generals which the world could produce stood mutually opposed; but the deeds on which the sun went down might well cause the immortal Wellington to exclaim, in the words of the Latin bard, "Exegi monumentum ære perennius." Seeing that in course of the bygone century the four quarters of the world testify to the bravery of the Highlanders as warriors, it cannot be supposed that any unfavourable circumstances in their condition have as yet dampened their native spirit of heroism, or softened them down to diffidence in defence of their liberties, their country, and their Queen. That they have, in general, multiplied to a degree incompatible with the natural resources of support from their possessions, has been already explained. That improvements should be effected, and that emigration should be resorted to, has also been mentioned. But let it be considered that, in the event of men being required to serve their country, every Highlander who may

volunteer himself for that service will diminish the population of his parish or district as effectually as though he were conveyed, at the expense of the Government, to Australia or North America. It is therefore humbly suggested that this source of relief to the country be added to the rest, and amid a variety of such resources, let the Highlander avail himself of that which he deems most suited to his inclination and circumstances.

[Since these articles were written (1840), another fearful famine overtook the Highlands and Western Islands, in 1847, and other events occurred which may have, more or less, qualified in some respects the opinions then set forth. These will be noticed in the next, and concluding, article.]

GIVE ME A COT.

O! give me a cot 'mid my own native mountains,
A cosy wee nest, with a but and a ben,
Where sounds the strange music of silvery fountains,
That wantonly rush to their home in the glen.
There I would ever be,

Wand'ring in freedom's glee,

Enrapt with the pleasures of wild loneliness,
Breathing the mountain air,
Wooing the flow'rets rare,

Seeking from silence life's soul-happiness.

O! give me a cot where the red lightning dances,
And the lord of the thunder in majesty rides,
Where the bold eagle gazes with unquailing glances,
While Heaven's dread battle in glory abides.
There I would ever be,

Where the swift flashes flee;

Exulting I'd list to the wrath-pealing voice,
Sounding its trump of war,

Rolling thro' skies afar,

Where cloud-bannered armies as conq'rors rejoice.

O! give me a cot where the rolling mists gather,
And the ghosts of the mighty glide over the hills,
Where sadly they troop o'er the dew-shrouded heather,
And heard are their wails in the song of the rills.
There, 'neath the trembling moon,
Would I with them commune,

Beholding the shades of old warriors brave,
Hov'ring still fondly o'er,

Caledon's mountains hoar,

Rejoicing when tempests triumphantly rave.

SUNDERLAND.

WM. ALLAN.

AILEAN BUIDHE.

THE following is one of the unpublished "Lives of the Bards," found among the papers of the late

JOHN MACKENZIE, OF "THE BEAUTIES OF GAELIC POETRY":

Allan MacDougal, commonly called Ailean Buidhe nan Oran, i.e., the Yellow-Haired Poet, was a native of Glendoran, Argyllshire. He lived in the 18th century, and, like his father, passed his days in the rural occupations of agriculture and pasturage. In society he ranked in the middle class-he lived removed alike from poverty and riches, moral and virtuous, equally free of temptations and vices in that remote part of the country.

Allan MacDougal was illiterate. He was too far remote from the parish school to have received the advantages of education. He was the poet of nature in the literal and strict sense of the word. Yet his acuteness and information far exceeded what men in his station possessed. The life he led was favourable to a mind inclined to indulge in the playfulness of fancy and humour of a wayward genius. He had leisure to contemplate, and wanted not subjects to attract attention on the mountain or in the glen. Amid picturesque scenery and rural amusements, many objects called forth the latent powers of the bard of the yellow locks. His feelings were incited, and the thoughts and meditations of the nursling of nature were poured forth in song. He soon became known as the composer of humorous verses, and notwithstanding his endeavours to conceal the real author by fathering his productions on a gentleman of the same district, every new song was recognised as emanated from the prolific humour of Ailean Buidhe. He soon became the life of every convivial meeting, and the most distinguished of every company he frequented.

It is no small mark of distinction to excel all others who might have the same advantages, at a time of life when all have the same prospects, and possess the like opportunities, even in the narrow circle in which young men of a country district move. But the name and fame of our poet were soon known beyond the limits of his glen, and the circle of his youthful acquaintances. His wit and humour were peculiar. He was always ready to compose on any occasion, to speak on any subject, and to reply to anything said to him. Owing to his appearance, and a defect in his looks, he was exposed to the animadversions of those who were strangers to his talents. But whoever he might be that was foolhardy in attacking him, let him be high or low, he was not allowed to escape without a severe castigation. In him the poet could easily find some real or imaginary defect, and could most aptly represent it. Entering the Ford market with a white faced horse, led with a long rope that trailed after him, a gentleman, who was known to have a poetical vein, viewing him in a ludicrous light, as the squinting bard lifted up his bonnet to see the crowd assembled on the hill. The other gentlemen observed

to him what a good subject of some satirical remarks he was. A verse was spun out, and as Allan drew near, it was repeated. It was judged to be too severe, as it described the natural defect of the man, contrasted with the horse, whose appearance was not in its favour. The poet thought otherwise, and turning on his heel, he replied in a loud voice, in measured lines, and by much more severe remarks. The people turned to the aggressor to see if he really had such defects as Allan Buidhe so well described. The eyes of the whole Fair having turned on the gentleman, he was glad to sneak away from the imputation, and conceal himself in a public house.

Poets of wit and humour are dreaded as severe satirists, but the good humoured become the favourites of all social and liberal minded men. Allan was not only a man of humour, but also of good common sense. His conversation was agreeable, and his company was courted by the high and low. Being a shrewd observer of nature, he was quick in observing anything worthy of attention-"catching the living manners as they fly"-heard all the news, associated with persons of higher rank. His sagacity and intelligence exceeded all known in the Glen, and he made the best use of what he knew. He always took poetical license in embellishing his story. To make it interesting or captivating, he called the powers of fancy and imagination to his assistance. The Rev. William Campbell, minister of the parish of Kilchrenan, in which Glendoran is situated, frequently reprimanded him for going beyond the bounds of truth or reality-admonished him to adhere to facts in his poetical effusions; but all was to no purpose. Allan would have his own way of telling his story. He followed the dictates of his genius in preference to the precepts of his parson. As the good clergyman saw it was in vain to attempt reclaiming this wayward son of fancy in the plain and usual way of reasoning, he would try another way. He asked him, at last, "If he could compose a poem or a song without a word of truth?" Allan said that he would try, and thus they parted.

His ears were always open to whatever news transpired, but for some time he heard of nothing worth mentioning. At length he understood that the minister's gardener had mixed salt with the seed sown in a field, with the intention of destroying worms that were in the ground, and which proved injurious to the young plants. This was thought most extraordinary in the country, and was much talked of. Allan laid hold of the popular opinion, thinking it a good subject for composing such a poem as the clergyman required from him, that is, "One without a word of truth in it." He commenced, and succeeded beyond expectation. He set fancy and imagination to work on improbabilities. The most unlikely part of it was the sowing of a field with salt, and it was the only thing that was true; adding that, should it appear to men incredible, in fact the salt grew so luxuriantly as to produce a firlot from every stalk. When he repeated the piece to the minister, who listened very attentively to him till he came to the passage of the luxuriant growth, "Ah, Allan," exclaimed he, "why add such a lie."

The poet of Glendoran composed as he felt an impulse to animadvert on the incidents of the day, to satirize as occasion presented something