conspire against the usurper, and to acknowledge the Chief of the Macdougals as their Lord. In the confusion which took place on the Norsemen being driven from the land towards their ships, the men of the isles, accordingly, seized upon the imperfectly armed galleys, attacked those refusing to bring down the black raven from their mastheads, left the remnants of Aco's force to perish on the shores, and sailed for their island fastnesses exulting in their success. But the joy was temporary, and gall was added to bitterness, for the Chief of Dunkerlyne now groaned under the supremacy of Lorn. After a long interval of peace, Lorn, in order to gratify his lust for revenge, resolved upon a descent on the shores of Rathlin, and Francis and the other fiefs of the island king were compelled to accompany the expedition. Persuasion with threats had to be applied in order to induce Francis to go, as an attack on his brother's castle was far from recommending itself to him. But there was no resisting the will of his liege lord, who promised him on return that the wish of his son, Brian, for the hand of Margery of Lorn would be gratified, and the house of Dunkerlyne and Dunolly would be more closely allied. Unhappily, Francis never returned. In the darkness of the night he fell by the hand of his own brother, and mourning had hardly ceased when the marriage of Brian was celebrated.

This tie, however, did little to subdue the aspiring spirit of Brian, for his whole ambition was for independence.

Lorn did not fail to discover the sentiments of his audacious relative, who was little skilled in the art of dissimulation, and a strict watch was kept over him.

A plot for the massacre of Lorn's household was soon matured. The sentinels of Dunolly were bribed, and the attack was to take place at midnight. Lorn anticipated the storm-how, it could not be discovered -but that night with a force of arms he entered Dunkerlyne and accused the chief of his meditated treachery.

Brian was instantly thrown into his own dungeon, and a more faithful dependant installed in his place.

At length, through the entreaties of the beautiful Margery, her husband was set free, on the condition that his garrison should be diminished and the defences reduced.

This to some extent accounted for the extensive ruins. The castle now consisted of a single tower perched on the utmost verge of the crag, the other tower having been thrown down as related by old Jarloff in the previous chapter. Most of the other defences were destroyed at the command of John of Lorn, and little huts erected in their stead for the accommodation of a few followers.

Outwardly, however, the defences were still considerable. The landing place was approached by a hidden creek only known to those acquainted with that particular part of the island. Even if a footing could have been obtained by a stranger, rocks high and inaccessible, bleached by the wind and whitened by the salt of the sea, flanked the opening which led up a dark and intricate passage to a platform in front of a rude entrance in the masonry of the outward battlements. At the extremity, the platform was defended by a parapet bristling with barbicans, while the rock descended perpendicularly for about fifty feet.

Brian returned from the dungeon to rule in the hall, but his character

was greatly altered. He became desperate, and the victim of extraordinary hallucinations. The ambition of his life was crushed, and instead of contenting himself with fighting the enemies of Lorn, he took to the sea, like his father of old, broken in the true pride of his spirit. He became irascible and violent-provoked to rage at the veriest trifle s-and even abused the noble Margery.

She did not bear her husband's change of temper long. Her joy at his release was soon merged in a brooding melancholy, and after many miserable days and long night watches, her mind yielded to the strain, and she died a raving maniac.

The only pledge of affection was her son, Dermond, who was the idol of his father's heart. The death of Margery proved a great trial to Brian, who became once more something of his former self, and the love, which was denied in the latter days to the mother, was profusely lavished on the son. Many a time the tear would trickle down the old man's weatherbeaten features as he kissed the rosy boy when taking leave for some incursion, but he was too proud to forsake his roving life on the sea.

Dermond, as he approached manhood, inherited much of his mother's comeliness and gentleness, allied to the youthful spirit of his father, and wearied with the forced confinement at Dunkerlyne he yearned to go forth and distinguish himself.

Under the direction of his liege lord, Brian had equipped the galley, which had borne him safely through many a fearful storm and bloody battle, for the purpose of preventing two ships bound from Ireland with men and stores for the Bruce, from accomplishing their mission. All day long, however, he scoured the intricacies of the Western Isles in vain, and no small amount of skill was required in managing the vessel among the contending winds and strong tides. To the lee, she inclined so much that the waters broke through the oar ports, disabling the rowers, notwithstanding that the sheet was under double reef. At length the sea ran too high, the wind drove along with a blinding sleet, and the sky became black overhead. After being driven to and fro for a while, Brian descried the breakers that lashed the shores of Seila. With some difficulty the vessel was run into one of the numerous fiords on the coast, and the pirates made for the cavern of Ardnavorish-a common resource in such emergencies. A fire was speedily lighted, the feast was prepared, and Brian resolved upon spending the night on the island.

Sentinels were posted on the cold headlands, to observe should any vessel be driven on the rocks, and as the night wore on a storm-bound hulk, with a few dark objects clinging to her, was seen drifting helplessly through the surf. An alarm was raised, but to no purpose, as the wreck went crashing past and disappeared like a phantom in the murky gloom.

(To be Continued.)

THE EDITOR IN CANADA.

I.

FROM what I could learn at home of the position of my countrymen who had crossed the Atlantic of their own free will, as well as of those who had been driven away from their native land by the cruelty of a few of the Highland lairds of a past generation, I was led to believe that they occupied a much better position, in the New World, than those who remained at home. I could never, however, believe that the difference was so great as it really is, until I have now been able to judge for myself, from actual contact with them, and personal experience of their comparative comforts and freedom from petty tyranny which they enjoy. I have now passed through the greater part of Nova Scotia, and have met, in the counties of Pictou and Antigonish, in the Island of Cape Breton, and elsewhere, specimens of Highland men and women-many of whose ancestors have been evicted and hounded in a semi-naked and starving state from the Highlands of Scotland-who will bear more than a favourable comparison with the very best specimens of the race at home. In physique, taking them all over, they are superior to those of any district that I am acquainted with in what all here still take a pride in calling "The Old Country." In general intelligence they at least equal, while in genuine warm-heartedness, manly sentiment, and open, free, Highland hospitality, they are far in advance of the general run of those of their countrymen who оссиру the same position as they themselves did before they left home. True, they are in more favourable circumstances, and therefore in a far better position, and better able to exhibit these characteristics of the fine race from which they sprung. But I cannot for the life of me see why, nor can I conscientiously advocate that my brother Highlanders should continue to remain at home in a servile and, often, in a starving position, on grounds of mere sentiment and love of their native soil, when such a country as this is open to receive them. This part of Canada is not the best part to come to, however, unless people have friends here ready to receive them, though to me it appears a Paradise in many respects in comparison with the wretched patches on which the crofter has to eke out an existence, in most cases, in the Highlands.

It is quite true that most of those who came out here first, before the country was broken up, endured the most severe and cruel hardships, but these have long ago become things of the past. For specimens of these early difficulties I must at present refer the reader to the Aberdeen Daily Free Press, where I am able to give a more complete account of the history of early emmigration and the present position of these provinces than the exigencies of space permits of in the Celtic Magazine. As I work my way to Upper Canada, I shall give an account of the richer districts in that quarter, and I trust to be of some service in directing poor and neglected Highlanders at home to places where they can become proprietors of the soil, and find an ample opportunity for laying a solid foundation for the future prosperity of themselves and their descendants. The reader is already aware that I have taken a view of this question of emigration,

and of the Highland crofter's position at home, which is not shared by a good few, who have his real interest at heart quite as much as I have. These I expect will still continue to hold their own opinions, but, for me, having now seen with my own eyes, and having had an opportunity of forming, or rather strengthening, my previous opinions by observation on the spot, I have no hesitation in recommending the Highland crofter to keep his eye on this side, failing better treatment at home; and finally to come to this country in spite of such mistaken and erroneous teachers as would advocate semi-starvation in Scotland to comfort and affluence in a country which is, in every respect, except in poverty and wretchedness, as Highland as his native land.

I have taken considerable pains to find out the feeling here, regarding the mother country, among those who came out themselves, as well as among their descendants, and I cannot recall a single instance in which any of those who have settled down here on their own lands, would wish to go back and live in the Highlands. Most, not only of the original emigrants, but of their descendants, to whom I have put the question, expressed a desire to see the country of their ancestors, but the idea of going back to remain in it never crossed their minds. I have met them

throughout the Province of Nova Scotia and in the Island of Cape Breton, who, at home, lived as our poorest crofters do, who can now turn out in their carriage and pair. While this is the case with not a few, hardly a single farmer can be met with who does not keep what is here called a "waggon," but what is in reality a nice, light, four-wheeled machine, made to carry two or four persons. The farmers as a class, however, are not wealthy, but they have as much bread, potatoes, meat, butter, cheese, and such substantial fare as any one needs to have, while they not only grow their own wool, but in nearly all cases keep their own looms and weave it in their respective homes into excellent cloth. Add to all these home comforts a beautiful climate, and the independence enjoyed by a fine race of men naturally of a cheerful and hopeful disposition, living unmolested by laird or factor, on their freehold possessions, and what more can be wished for.

Were a

At the same time there is great room for improvement. Farming is not carried on on scientific principles; but the very reverse. system of rotation of crops introduced, double the amount of corn and cereals could be produced with half the labour. At present, in some cases the land is left for several years under grass, as long, in not a few instances, as eight or nine years, while, again it is under crop for an equal length of time, thus run to seed, and all the sap taken out of it for either purpose. This is to be accounted for mainly from the fact that the class of people who originally emigrated from the old country to these provinces did not belong to the farming class at home-were only the poorest of the crofting population, who had not then the slightest idea of farming their lots on any improved plan, When they arrived here, and obtained their grants of 100 and 200 acres, they set to work in rough and ready fashion, reclaiming enough to grow all their requirements, and soon found themselves in a position of comparative affluence. Their ambition was not high, and finding themselves in easy and comfortable circumstances, and in a much better position than they ever before occupied, they naturally settled down and enjoyed themselves, quite happy; and their de

scendants have, to some extent I fear, followed in their wake. The consequence is bad farming generally throughout the most Highland sections of the province. The local Government of Nova Scotia might, by offering prizes throughout the provinces for the best cultivated farms, in a few years bring about a revolution among the farmers. What can be done by such encouragement is illustrated this very week, as I write, by the magnificent Exhibition of the produce of the Province held in the city of Halifax, and of which I shall have something to say on a future occasion.

Meanwhile I shall ask the reader to accompany me in my trip through Nova Scotia to make the acquaintance of a few of our countrymen, whose names deserve mention, not only on account of their warm-hearted, enthusiastic welcome, and friendly feelings to, and in favour of, "a Highlander from home;" but on account of the excellent positions many of them have made for themselves on this continent.

After experiencing a pretty rough passage across the Atlantic in the steamship State of Nevada, a splendid sea-going boat belonging to the State Line Company, navigated by Captain Braes, an experienced, careful, and courteous sailor, I arrived in

NEW YORK On the 4th of September, just in time to see the New York Caledonian Games, which were held on that day. Here was an immense assemblage of about ten thousand people thoroughly enjoying themselves, and behaving in a manner highly creditable to the Scottish character. There was a capital sprinkling of the most prominent Scots-fine stalwart fellows-dressed in Highland costume, presided over by their Chief -a handsome Highlander, Nicholson by name. I was soon introduced to several of the leading men, among whom were the Honourable Thomas Waddell, a wealthy coal-owner from Pennslyvania, and the newly-elected President of the United Caledonian Association of America, the highest honour at the disposal of his fellow countrymen on this side of the Atlantic; Mr L. Lawrie, Secretary of the same Association, and manager of the Auburn Cloth Manufactory, the largest thing of the kind in the United States; Mr Stewart, editor and proprietor of the Scottish American Journal; Messrs Robertson of the New York Scotsman; Mr D. Macgregor Crerar, Secretary of St Andrew's Society of New York, a highly respected and popular Highlander among the better class of Scots in America; Mr Paterson, an Invernessian, and no mean poet; Mr Gilully, a Merkinch boy; Mr Harcombe, son of the late proprietor of the Waverly Hotel, Inverness; Major Manson, a prominent Caithness man, and one of the most popular and liberal, open-handed men in the American capital. From these and hundreds of others I experienced the utmost kindness and attention. In fact their enthusiastic demonstrations in the shape of liberal supplies of the good things of this life were calculated to place one in a somewhat trying position; and to take care of one's self required no small amount of self-denial and force of charactar. Fortunately, however, I possess no small modicum of these, and I survive the liberal and warm hospitality of my Highland friends.

The games were highly creditable in all respects, but the pipe-music and dancing left room for improvement. The favourite piper would have no chance in any of our best competitions in Scotland. There was another, however, who played very correctly and sweetly, and was, out of