who had he been alive, might well have boasted of his prowess; and that had he himself been what he was that morning, he would encounter them all single handed, rather than that one brave man who that day had fallen beneath his sword." This unguarded remark discovered who their wounded prisoner was. Irritated by the taunt, they bribed the man who dressed the wounded to thrust his needle into his brain when dressing his head. Thus perished Ranald Gallda by the hands of his own clan -a man whose capacity as well as prowess deserved a better fate at their hands. The news of the battle soon spread near and far. It was known in the Aird on the day following, and a party of Frasers immediately visited the scene of conflict, to claim the remains of their friends for honourable interment. Those of their Chief, the Master, and his cousin Ranald Gallda, were borne homewards by the mourning band, and buried in the priory of Beauly. Until 1746 the Latin inscription on Lovat's tomb was visible. It is as follows:-" Hic jacet Hugo Dominus de Lovat qui fortissime pugnans contra Reginalderios occubuit. Julii 15, 1544." Here lies Hugh Lord Lovat, who fell on the 15th July 1644, bravely fighting against the Clanranald. We remember being shown, many years ago, by the late Mr Ewen Cameron, then tenant at Kilfinnan, mounds at the south east end of Loch Lochy, not far from the scene of conflict; where according to local tradition, the remains of the slain were buried. The gentle undulations of the ground and the richness of the verdure seemed all to favour the probability that this really is the last resting-place of those who fell in this battle. The loss sustained by the Frasers, great as it was, would have been still more disastrous to the clan but for a remarkable circumstance we have upon the authority both of the historian Buchanan and Sir Robert Gordon, that the wives of the slain Frasersalmost all of them--subsequently gave birth to sons. This is corroborated by more than one of the Clan historians. And while some slight margin may be allowed for more or less exaggeration-if such there bewe have no reason to doubt the substantial accuracy of the testimony of these men.

We sometimes hear of "the good old times." Let us thank God we live in better times. For not greater is the contrast between the scene of the 15th July 1544 witnessed on the field of Dalruairih, and the calm, peaceful, bright aspect of it, when seen by us last August, than the contrast between the Highlands of those times and the Highlands of our own day. Nowhere are life and property safer, more sacred, than they now are in the Highlands of Scotland-the fruit of the Bible and the school.

John Mudartach, the prime mover of this, as of many seditions besides, lived to an advanced age, and died in the chartered possession of a heritage illegally gotten-maintained by the sword, and transmitted to successive generations of his descendants.

KENMORE.

ALLAN SINCLAIR.

BOOKS RECEIVED: "The Past in the Present," by Arthur Mitchell, M.D., LL.D., F.R.S.E.; and "Celtic Scotland," vol. iii., by William F. Skene, both from David Douglas, publisher, Edinburgh.

EVAN MACCOLL-THE "BARD OF LOCHFYNE."

II.

Ir was stated last month that the bard's father emigrated to Canada in 1831, yet Evan could not make up his mind to leave his native land, even to accompany those whom he loved above all others in the world; but having been, in 1839, as already mentioned, appointed to a clerkship in the Liverpool Custom House, he, in that year, bade his native hills an affectionate farewell, and exchanged the Highland hills and heather, which had so often inspired his poetic soul, for a sphere of life which, with its necessary duties and surroundings, had little attraction for one of his temperament, tastes, and feelings.

Before this, however, in 1837, according to his intimate friend, John Mackenzie, of "The Beauties," he "threw off the mask of anonymy, and appeared as a contributor to the Gaelic Magazine, then published in Glasgow. His contributions excited considerable interest, and a general wish was expressed to have them published in a separate form by all Highlanders, with the exception of his own immediate neighbours, who could not conceive how a young man, with whom they had been acquainted from his birth, should rise superior to themselves in intellectual stature and in public estimation. They of course discovered that our youthful bard was possessed of a fearful amount of temerity, and the public, at the same time, saw that they were miserably blockaded in their own mental timberism." And then the author of "The Lives of the Gaelic Bards" proceeds to resent the treatment received by Maccoll from those who ought to have been his best friends, and such as he himself had also experienced. He could therefore strongly enter into sympathy with the bard of Lochfyne. He continues:-If native talent is not to be encouraged by fostering it under the grateful shade of generous friendship, it ought, at least, to have the common justice of being allowed to work a way for itself, unclogged by a solitary fetter-unchilled by the damping breath of unmerited contempt or discouragement. The highsouled inhabitants of Inveraray failed to extinguish the flame of Maccoll's lamp; and now, as they are not probably much better engaged, we recommend them to see themselves as others see them," in our author's retaliative poem, "Slochd a Chopair," in which they are strongly mirrored, and the base metal of which they are made powerfully delineated. is well for dependant merit, he goes on to say, that there are gentlemen who have something ethereal in them, and then he proceeds to compliment Mr Fletcher of Dunans and Mr Campbell of Islay for their patronage of the bard, for interesting themselves in his behalf, and for procuring a situation for him in Her Majesty's customs.

It

Maccoll's first publication in volume form appeared in 1836, under the title of "The Mountain Minstrel," containing Gaelic songs and poems, and his earliest attempts in English. Though the name of Maclachlan and Stewart appears on the title-page, the work was published entirely at

the risk of the author. It was well received, the sale covered the cost of publication, and left a small balance to the bard.

During the next two years he wrote several new pieces both in Gaelic and English, and in 1838 the Messrs Blackie, of Glasgow, published the Gaelic work now known as "Clarsach nam Beann," containing all the Gaelic productions of the bard up to that date. Simultaneously with the "Clarsach," the same firm brought out the first exclusively English edition of the Mountain Minstrel, the first edition of which, we have seen, was partly Gaelic and partly English. A second edition of this Mountain Minstrel was published in 1847, and another in 1849, but neither of these produced any great financial result to the author, In 1839 an edition of the "Clarsach " was published by Maclachlan and Stewart, to which is added a few explanatory notes, a glossary, and a long list of subscribers, of whom we are told some were "for Clarsach nam Beann, some for the Mountain Minstrel, and many for both works.”

On the appearance of his two volumes in 1838 Maccoll was hailed as a rare and valued acquisition to Gaelic literature, and his right to stand in the front rank of modern Celtic bards was at once established and acknowledged. Of his "Mountain Minstrel; or poems and songs in English," some of the best contemporary authorities in Britain wrote in the very highest praise. The late Dr Norman Macleod, reviewing it in an Edinburgh paper, writes:-"Evan Maccoll's poetry is the product of a mind impressed with the beauty and the grandeur of the lovely scenes in which his infancy was nursed. We have no hesitation in saying that this work is that of a man possessed of much poetic genius. Wild, indeed, and sometimes rough are his rhymes and epithets ; yet there are thoughts so new and so striking-images and comparisons so beautiful and original-feelings so warm and so fresh, that stamp this Highland peasant as no ordinary man." Hugh Miller says, in the Inverness Courier:-"There is more of fancy than of imagination in the poetry of Maccell, and more of thought and imagery than of feeling. In point, glitter, and polish, he is the Moore of Highland song, comparison and ideality are the leading features of his mind. Some of the pieces in this volume are sparkling tissues of comparison from beginning to end. The images pass before us in quick and tantalizing succession, reminding us of the figures of a magic-lantern, hurriedly drawn athwart the wall, or the patterns of a web of tapestry, seen and then lost, as they sweep over the frame. Even when compelled to form a high estimate of the wealth of the bard from the very rapidity with which he flings it before us, we cannot avoid wishing at the same time that he had learned to enjoy it a little more at his leisure. This, if a fault, however, and we doubt it after all, is a fault of genius. How proud would the ability of producing such poetry in Greek or Latin render some of our first-rate scholars, and yet such in fact has been the triumph of this Highland peasant from the shores of Lochfyne." Dr Browne, author of "The History of the Highland Clans," noticing the work in the Caledonian Mercury, wrote:"Genius, wherever it displays itself, constitutes nature's title of nobility, with heaven's patent right visibly stamped upon it, and thus levels all other distinctions. Here for instance, we have it breaking out amidst every disadvantage in the person of a Western Celt-one who, obedient to the voice within, sought to embody in song those feelings and emotions

which external nature had kindled up in his bosom ; and who with none of the means and appliances furnished by the schools, has thrown together, in his Mountain Minstrel,' more gems of purest ray serene' than could be found in a decade of lustra amongst the measured dulness of the choristers and songsters in the cities of the south. He has that within him, if we mistake not, which will make him a name, and secure to that name a place amongst those who would now, perhaps, scorn the association. In regard to his English productions, although they exhibit those striking inequalities which might have been expected, especially in a young man writing, in some measure, in a foreign language, yet we do not hesitate to affirm, that they are interspersed with some of the sweetest flowers of poetry, and give proofs of genius capable of far higher things. There are, in the volume before us, lines written on visiting Iona-which any poet of the day might, as far as fancy and true poetic feeling are concerned, be willing to acknowledge. The same sweetness, the same quiet beauty, and the same easy freedom, pervade the Evening Address to Lochlomond,' some stanzas of which exhibit a play of fancy and a richness of imagery, which it will no doubt shock the insolence of aristocratic pretension and imbecility to find displayed in the compositions of a Highland fisherman." This is surely high praise, but we must yet quote Bailey, the celebrated author of "Festus" and of the " Angel World,"— “There is a freshness, a keenness, a heartiness in many of these productions of the Mountain Minstrel which seem to breath naturally of the hungry air, the dark, bleak, rugged bluffs among which they were composed, alternating occasionally with a clear, bewitching, and spiritual quiet, as of the gloaming deepening over the glens and woods. Several of the melodies towards the close of this volume are full of simple and tender feeling, and not unworthy to take their place by the side of those of Lowland minstrels of universal fame." The reviewers were equally complimentary in their notices of the Gaelic "Clarsach," the Edinburgh Advertiser proclaiming one of the poems "one of the most beautiful pieces which modern Celtic literature affords;" while the Glasgow Constitutional says of it that "Maccoll's Gaelic pieces emanate from a heart imbued with the finest feelings of humanity. His 'Ode to Loch-duich' is inimitable. Rich in the most splendid imagery of nature, represented to our admiring gaze through the burning vista of poetic genius, we sit on the author's lips, float with him on its glassy surface, or dive into its transparent bosom. As a Celtic bard, Mr Maccoll is second to none, and we trust that a young man who has commenced his career so auspiciously, will yet be an honour to his country, and to the republic of letters. We do not much envy the taste of that man who will sit an hour on the mountain side without the bewitching company of Clarsach nam Beann."" And last but not least, we have the compiler of "The Beauties of Gaelic Poetry" saying "Maccoll ranks very high as a poet. His English pieces, which are out of our way, possess great merit. His Gaelic productions are chiefly amorous, and indicate a mind of the most tender sensibilities and refined taste. The three poems, annexed to this notice, are of a very superior order; one of them comes under that denomination of poetry, called pastoral or descriptive, and evinces powers of delineation, a felicity of conception, and a freshness of ideality not equalled in modern times. The second is an elegiac piece, before whose silver, melli

H

fluent tone we melt away, and are glad to enjoy the luxury of tears with the weeping muse. The love ditty is a natural gush of youthful affection, better calculated to show us the aspirations of the heart than the most elaborate production of art. Maccoll imitates no poet; he has found enough in nature to instruct him; he moves majestically in a hitherto untraversed path; and, if we are not continually in raptures with him, we never tire-never think long in his company. But we are reminded that praises bestowed on a living author subject us to the imputation of flattery-long may it be ere Evan Maccoll is the subject of any posthumous need of laudation from us!"

Criticisms like these from such acknowledged authorities might satisfy the ambition of any votary of the muse, and they must have proved highly satisfactory to the peasant bard of Lochfyne. He has, however, much to the shame of his Highland countrymen at least, been allowed to drop almost out of sight for the last thirty or forty years. This is, no doubt mainly due to his expatriation to Canada, away from the notice of his admirers, and where the muse has not yet taken a very high place in the estimation of the people. It is further to be attributed to the fact that Maccoll was not financially in a position to publish new editions of his earlier works or any of his new and more matured compositions, on the pittance paid to him in his adopted country as an official in the Custom House of Kingston, and where all his energies and resources were strained to the utmost to bring up and educate a large family, one of whom at least is destined to become worthy of her father as a successful wooer of the muse.

In 1850 the health of our bard became somewhat impaired, and he obtained six months' leave of absence to enable him to visit his friends in Canada and at the same time recruit his overworked constitution. Shortly after his arrival in the Dominion, while staying on his brother's farm on the river Trent, he was introduced to the Honourable Malcolm Cameron, then a minister of the Crown, and was by this distinguished countryman invited to transfer his clerkship in the Liverpool Customs for a somewhat better position at the time in the Provincial Customs of Upper Canada. Unfortunately for him, we think, he fell in with this friendly suggestion, and was shortly after, in 1852, appointed to a situation at Kingston, a position in which he remained until superannuated last year on a pittance hardly sufficient to keep soul and body of himself and family together. His natural inclinations induced him to take a keen interest in Canadian politics-inclinations necessarily, though it may be unconsciously, strengthened by his loyalty to a leading member of the Liberal party to whom he owed his appointment. Canadian party politics-keen and almost savage in a degree not understood in this country-are not a congenial atmosphere for the cultivation of pure and lofty poetry, and Evan Maccoll, we have no doubt at all, has fallen a sacrifice, financially, and, to a great extent, as a bard, to its narrow and cramping influences. Nor did the political party with whom he allied himself, and which he aided only too well by his pen and his political talents, acknowledge his services in the manner which they and his sacrifices would justify. While more clamorous and less modest supporters of the Liberal party in Canada were being promoted and liberally provided for, poor Maccoll, believing his political friends were as honest and single-minded as himself, and too