'eil sinn idir ag irraidh fhaicinn, tha e ceart agus freagarrach gu'm biodh eachdraidh nan Gaidheal, an cleachdanna, an treubhantas, agus an iomadh buaidh urramach air an gleidheadh air chuimhne, agus air an teasairginn o dhol a'm mugha! (Applause).

'Si durachd "Comuinn Gailig" a' bhaile so, agus gach Comuinn Gaidhealach eile, a dhol gu'n dulan chum so uile a dheanamh. Tha iad a' gnàthachadh gach innleachd chum gach fiosrachadh fhaotuinn mu na nithe so, agus cha diobair iad a'm fad is beo iad. Air an doigh cheudna 'se durachd mhoran de mhaithibh na rioghachd, o'n Bhanrigh choir air an righ-chaithir, an ni ceudna a chur air aghaidh. 'S e so durachd cridhe mhoran eile de dhaoinibh cumhachdach agus foghluimte 'nar tir fein-seadh, daoine de gach inbh, dreuchd, agus staid, gaisgich chalma, foghlumaich ionnsuichte teallsanaich sgrudail, ollamhain de gach gne, ollamhain-diadhaidh, ollamhain-leigheis, ollamhain-lagha, agus an leithide sín, a' dol a'm boinn r'a cheile chum gach ni air am beil fiamh na Gaidhlig a theasairginn, agus a chumail suas. 'S e an ni ceudna durachd cridhe nan daoine dealaidh sin, a tha 'cur a mach "ARD-ALBANNAICH" anns a' "GHAIDHEIL ann an Glaschu, agus na h-uiread eile. 'Se so durachd "BUN-LOCHABAIR," CO ealanta, deas-chainnteach an comhnuidh (Applause).

au

Tha aobhar gairdeachais aig uile chairdibh nan Gaidheal, gu'm bheil na h-uiread de na Goill fein aig am bheil speis-cridhe do shliochd nam beann, leis an Ard Theagasgair Blackie air an ceann! Uime sin, mar a thubairt a' Bhan-Bhard, Mairi Nic Eallair :

Dean a dhuthaich nan treun,
Iollach eibhneis as ur;
Chualas nuallan 'nam piob,
A'n tigh riomhach nan tur

Is t'uaislean 'nan ceudan,

Gu h-eudmhor tighinn cruinn,

'Chumail suas na cainnt bhuadhar

Bha dual do na suinn!

Chruinnich bantighearnan min-gheal

'Nan side is 'san srol;

'S iad a' boisgeadh le seudaibh,
Mar reultan 's na neoil;
A'm maise 'san ailleas,
"Toirt barr air a' cheile,
'S an gaol air a' Ghaidhlig,
Ga gnath chur an ceill.

:

The rev. gentleman resumed his seat amid the most deafening applause.

UNIV. OF

Miss Fraser then came forward and sang in fine style, "O! for the bloom of my own native heather." Miss Fraser is well known to be an accomplished vocalist, and it is enough to say that she did herself justice on this occasion, and greatly delighted her large auditory.

Mr. W. G. Stewart, a well-known and most obliging member of various useful societies in Inverness, came forward and recited in finished style, and with most grotesque effect, TURUS EACHAINN DO PHAISLEY.

Mr. Smith made his appearance again, and performed Gille Calum, to the music of the pipes. This he did in dashing style, and yet with freedom and grace, and greatly to the delight of the spectators.

This closed the first part of the evening's proceedings.

Pipe-Major M'Lennan then undertook to fill an interval with the sound of the pipes. This he began by playing Chumh an aona mhic. This fine piobaireachd greatly delighted those versed in such matters, and all seemed to appreciate the wonderful manipulation of the performer. Then there were the dignity, the elegance, and the gracefulness of the whole combination of pipe and piper, which made quite a favourable impression even on those who could only appreciate what they saw. After the piobaireachd, he was joined by Messrs Macdonald and Fraser, and all three struck up Piobaireachd Dhomhnuill Duibh. In this way the ear was filled during the interval with measured and harmonized sounds, and those assembled moved about, some going out, whilst others stood about in clusters congratulating one another on the success of the re-union, and the treat they were enjoying.

Dr. Charles Mackay, who was received with loud applause, said that being a Highlander so far as he could trace his descent, and not having a single drop of Saxon blood in his veins, he stood there with a feeling of shame that he could not speak the language of his ancestors. He was sorry that the eloquent speech of Mr. Macgregor was not intelligible to him, but the sonorous beauty of the mere sounds was striking even to his ears, and put him in mind of the old lady in England who said that Mesopotamia was a blessed word; it filled her with emotions of delight only to hear it pronounced. (Laughter and applause.) Something of the same kind filled his mind on hearing the Gaelic spoken. He did happen to have studied that venerable speech so as to know something of its methods, its structure, and its beauties, and he envied his reverend friend the power of speaking it so well; but not being able to use the language of his ancestors, he must just address them in plain Saxon English :-in what he might call the language

of the comparatively modern interlopers upon the sacred soil of the
Highlands. (Applause.) He was glad to discover proofs every
day that there was a revival not only in this country and in Ire-
land, but in England and on the Continent of Europe, of the study of
the venerable tongue of the Gael. In this department of philology
the Germans were far ahead of all the rest of Europe, and had
published ten times as many works upon the subject as ever were
published in Scotland, or within the limits of the British Islands.
The Germans knew more about the language than people here,
even than those who spoke it fluently. For his own part a con-
scientious course of study had convinced him that Gaelic lay at
the root not only of the vernacular and colloquial English, but of
French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Greek. A correspondent of
a paper published in Inverness had lately discovered (and news-
paper correspondents discovered everything now-a-days) that
twenty years ago he had been unwise enough to assert that the
music and poetry of Scotland were almost wholly confined to the
Lowlands. The charge was no sooner made than he pleaded
guilty to it, but he would urge in extenuation the offence was
committed in ignorance, for he had not at that time studied the
language of the Highlands. But he was older and wiser now—or
if not wiser, he might be allowed to say he was less foolish, and
had discovered that the Highlands did not compare disad-
vantageously with the Lowlands, either in music or in poetry. It
was of the Celtic nature to be poetical. The greatest poet of
Scotland, perhaps the greatest of his kind that any country had
produced, Robert Burns, though claimed by the lowlands, was in
reality a Celt by birth, descent, and name. The original name of
his family was Burness, which every Highlander knew to signify
the fall or cascade of the burn. Ayrshire, where he was born, was
the most Celtic of Lowland counties, all its rivers, valleys, and
mountains, farms and estates, having Gaelic names.
The pure
Anglo-Saxons had never produced a very great poet. The hills
and rivers of South-England had never inspired a rural bard of
any note to celebrate their beauties or sing their praises; but in
Scotland-both Lowland and Highland-there was not a stream
flowing, a lake shining, or a mountain rearing its summit to the
clouds, that had not been celebrated in immortal verse. Scotland
had been called the

"Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,"

but other lands had also brown heath and shaggy wood. Scotland had been called the land of cakes, but there were cakes, and good

cakes, too, in other countries. Scotland had also been called the land of brave men and bonnie lasses, but there were brave men and bonnie lasses in other countries, only not perhaps in equal numbers. (Laughter and applause.) Scotland, with mere justice, might be called pre-eminently the land of music and of song, in these respects, perhaps, surpassing every country in the world. To this it was indebted for its large Celtic element. The greatest of poetsShakespeare himself notwithstanding his Anglo-Saxon namemight be claimed as partially, if not wholly, of Celtic blood. He was born in Warwickshire, the very heart and centre of England, in which the Saxon invaders had never wholly displaced the original Celtic inhabitants. Shakespeare had wandered on the banks of the Avon, a river with a Gaelic name; and had meditated or sported in the leafy recesses of the forest of Arden, a name that also was purely Gaelic. The songs of the Anglo-Saxons were neither abundant nor beautiful. Ben Jonson wrote beautiful songs, but he was a Scotchman and a Celt. Thomas Campbell wrote some

of the finest songs in the English language, but he also was a Scotchman and a Celt. Thomas Moore wrote some of the finest lyrics ever printed in English, but he, too, was a Celt and an Irishman. All the Celtic races were lovers of song, and were stirred and excited by song to an extent that often surprised the more impassive Anglo-Saxons and Germans. Just now in Paris

they could not find a song with which to receive the Shah of Persia. If they struck up the Marseillaise, the Communists and Red Republicans would take fire. If they struck up "Partant pour la Syrie" the Bonapartists would be encouraged to hope for the restoration of the Empire; and if they had recourse to La Parisienne, the inspired strain would be held to excite the Orleanists to make an effort for the Crown. Song did not stir the sober English in this fashion. In fact the only two songs which were truly national to the south of the Tweed were "Rule Britannia," written by James Thomson, a Scotchman; and "God Save the Queen," originally "God save the King," of which the author was unknown, which it was originally treason to sing, because it was written by a Jacobite in favour of the Stuarts, whom the author wished to "send" back victorious over the House of Hanover. But this was a wide subject, on which time would not allow him to enlarge. In conclusion he would only say that he had very great pleasure indeed in being present at such a large gathering assembled for such a purpose, and in meeting so many old friends in Inverness. (Cheers.)

Mr. Sim was then introduced and gave, with great taste and sweetness, "Bonnie Scotland," the accompaniment by Miss

M'Learnan. Admirably the two acquitted themselves, and the large audience greeted the performance with every sign of appreciation.

The four dancers made their appearance again, and did the Highland Fling to the great delight of the audience. This was followed by one of the gems of the whole evening's performances. The choir sang Air faillirin Illirin Uillirin O! with great spirit and in fine taste. Miss M'Learnan again presiding at the pianoforte; and the audience seemingly ready to bound off their seats in response to the stirring and melodious strains of the singers, who seemed to have their audience spell-bound.

Rev. Mr. Stewart, Nether-Lochaber, was the next speaker, and was received with applause. He commenced by observing that if in getting up at two o'clock that morning, and galloping across Drumochter, the backbone of Scotland, through mist and small rain and cloud, and coming an equal distance by train in a smoking carriage--if in doing all this to be present there was any merit or any virtue, then, in the words of the song written by his eminent friend on the left, he might say they ought to "Cheer, boys, cheer." (Laughter and applause.) Some might think it a very easy thing to speak at a meeting like that, before so many people, but he wished they would only come and try it. He had felt a considerable amount of mental perturbation all day at the thought of it, and notwithstanding the pleasant colloquy of Davie, the driver of the coach, and the kind attentions of the guard of the train, and his reception by his friends in Inverness, he still felt in a considerable state of mental flurry. Give him a good goose quill and a large folio, and he might undertake to write something, but to make a speech before such an audience was a very different matter indeed. However, since he came into the hall, and met so many kind friends, he felt that with their warm sympathies he might get on better than he expected-in fact, the hand-shaking which he had gone through was enough to make him feel as if he had suffered from rheumatism for the last twelve months. (Laughter and applause.) He was also very fortunate in having the support of Mac Dòmhnull Dhu, their member of Parliament. (Applause.) And with all these encouragements, he thought he might well cock his beaver. (Applause.) I assure you, continued Mr. Stewart, that I am not a little proud, as well as pleased, to be present here this evening at this the second annual festival of the now world-renowned Gaelic Society of Inverness. I say worldrenowned advisedly, for you have no idea how deep and heart-felt an interest is taken in all your sayings and doings by our lealhearted countrymen in all the British colonies, and in every