Gu ma fada bàta aig an armunn fhial, A thug dhomh an t-aiseag mu'n ro-phailt a dh'iarr ; 'S tric a dh' fhalbh thu leatha air do tharsuinn siar, 'S tu air bòrd a fuaraidh air 'm bu shuarach triall. 'S Camshronach do shloinneadh, cha cheillinn sin uat, 'S bu mhath air chul bat iad 'n àm sgailceadh nan cnuachd, Every little occasion called forth a few verses either in praise, or with the more dangerous power of satire. These verses might not be heard of beyond the township in which they were composed. And they were a pure and simple pleasure, and an innocent pastime. Now the songs are frowned upon, and gossipry take their place. Prosaic influences are penetrating the glens -the newspaper, the English sportsman, the Cockney tourist, the daily steamer, and looming in the distance, the railwaydeclare that the spirit of poesy has all but fled from Lochaber, and ere she takes her departure let us kiss the hem of her shining garments, and bless her for the riches she had so freely lavished to gladden the hearts of the children of our people through all the days of the years that are gone, and let us prove our gratitude in redeeming from the moth and the rust the precious gifts she had bestowed, and which are about to be lost for ever. Mr Alexander Macdonald thereafter read his paper, which was as follows: ARCHIBALD GRANT THE GLENMORISTON BARD. Perhaps there is not a small glen in Inverness-shire-perhaps not even in any part of the Highlands of Scotland-that has produced so many singers as that little, narrow one that lies in a south-westerly direction between the western shores of Loch-Ness, and the borders of Kintail, namely, Glenmoriston. To account for this would be undoubtedly a difficult matter, and would be considerably foreign to the object of this paper; but the fact remains none the less true, and at this time there are few families in that Glen who cannot trace themselves directly or indirectly back to local poets as their ancestors. In referring to those, I do not certainly mean to insinuate that they were composers of the first magnitude, but merely sweet, homely warblers, who gave expression to their inward feelings and their impressions from without, in strains peculiarly captivating to those among whom they moved and had their being. For there are poets for each stage of culture. Some of them we find addressing themselves to poets and novelists particularly; others to thinkers and scholars; and a third class to the common, more or less uneducated, members of the human family. It is to this last class of poets that Archibald Grant, the subject of this paper, belongs; and it would be doing him and his works a most serious injustice to advocate for him a place even among the leading poets of Celtic Scotland. His station is with another class-that class that do not grasp the history and national traditions of the country of the Gael sufficiently to demand any other than a limited hearing. The productions of all those are to be considered as being more locally interesting than otherwise so; and it is as such that they are at all times to be judged. Grant's poems are particularly addressed to the inhabitants of Glenmoriston, and to the people of some of the neighbouring districts, upon the minds of whom only the Bard desired to impress his sentiments, and to whom, accordingly, he exclusively expressed his ideas. His mission was to those, and consequently many portions of it must be essentially unintelligible to outsiders. I purpose to deal with the life of Archibald Grant in a twofold aspect: firstly, his life as an ordinary individual; and secondly, his life as a poet. To understand to any extent my treatment of him as a poet, it appears to me absolutely necessary that I should give you as many facts relative to his life as I have been able to collect, and as will serve to be an index to his poetical nature and character. Archibald Grant, the Glenmoriston Bard, was born in 1785 at Aonach, Glenmoriston, in a small country cottage, the ruins of which can still be pointed out. He was undoubtedly descended from noble and distinguished families. He was in direct relationship with the Grants of Glenmoriston, who are themselves from the same stock as the well-known Grants of Strathspey. The celebrated Archibald Grant of Glenmoriston was our poet's great grandfather, while it can be certainly proved that strong ties of kinship existed between himself and the famous family of Glengarry, his grandfather, also called Archibald Grant, having been married to one of the daughters of Ardabiodh, a sister to Julia Macranald, the poetess of Keppoch, who was directly connected with the Glengarry family. Thus, it is clear that nobility and the elements of poetry were combined in the stock from which our Bard sprung. Grant's grandfather was a man of no ordinary distinction in his day. He resided at a place known by the name of Tombealluidh, where he occupied a holding of considerable extent. In accordance with a custom then indulged in extensively by Highland proprietors, Glengarry placed his first born son, Aonghas Ög, under the care of Grant during a certain period of his minority, in order that Grant should bring up the young gentleman, and give him the instruction then required. Grant felt proud of having such honour as this conferred upon him by Glengarry, and from the feelings of intense admiration that he entertained towards that gentleman and all that was his, he loved Aonghas Og most dearly, and never took him up in his arms without composing some lines in his honour. From the fragments of those come down to ourselves we can observe that Grant himself possessed the poetic faculty in no small degree; but I am not aware that he ever composed except when inspired by the enthusiasm of his affection towards his portégé. Now we fancy that we almost hear the good old Highlander breathing his strains anxiously and earnestly into the ears of the boy and saying— And again, how affectionately interested in the child the old man was, when he said : Ho fearan, hi fearan, Ho fearan, 's tu 'th'ann ; Aonghas og Ghlinnegaraidh, 'S rioghail fearail an dream. Gu'm bheil fraoch ort mar shuaineas- Ho etc. 'S leat islean, 's leat uaislean; 'S leat sid 'san Dail-Chaoruinn, 'S leat Cnoideart mhor mheabhrach, Agus Gleabhrach nam meang, Ho etc. Should we conclude that it was when describing to the young man the pleasures of the chase that Grant sang- Mo ghaol, mo ghaol, mo ghaol an giullan, And it may have been, perhaps, when presenting Aonghas Og with his first kilt that Grant addressed the following lines to him : Theid an t-eideadh, theid an t-eideadh, Theid an t-eideadh air a' ghille; Theid an t-eideadh, crios 'us feileadh, Theid an t-eideadh air a' ghille, Adding, in proof of his ever-increasing affection for the boy, the words: : Cha cheil mi o dhuin' tha beo Gur toil leam Aonghas Og a' Ghlinne. This Angus Macdonald of Glengarry was in course of some time returned to his father, accompanied by 21 head of cattle, which Grant parted with as a last demonstration of his affection for the young man. Memories of Grant's generosity continued to exist in the Glengarry family for generations after. On one occasion when the last chief that graced the halls of Caisteal-an-Fhithich was passing through Glenmoriston, Archibald Grant, the Bard, was pointed out to him. He frankly and warmly shook the Bard's hand, promising him some favours in recognition of the kindness which the Bard's grandfather showed long before to one of his predecessors. Angus Og was killed after the battle of Falkirk (1745), by the accidental discharge of a gun. Archibald Grant's father, in more respects than one, deserves a passing notice. His name was John Grant. He passed a considerable portion of his life in the army, having been present in the capacity of serjeant at the memorable siege of Gibraltar, in which action he greatly distinguished himself by his bravery and courage. John Grant was a bard of no ordinary power. Many of his productions have been lost and cannot now be recovered; but some of his pieces that are yet to be found in the memories of the oldest persons in the Glen, are highly meritorious. In one of these he refers to his son Archie, the future bard, in a manner from which it can be understood that Archie's sarcastic effusions, addressed to his father when backsliding about the change-house, were taking some effect. Probably the father occasionally forgot to go home at the proper time, rendering it necessary by such conduct to have a visit from his wife and Archie, while enjoying himself with his cronies. This is what he says on the subject Iseabail 's Archie 'n drasda bruidhinn rium 'S fheudar dhomh 'radha gur saighte 'n dithis iad, Ma theid mi 'n tigh-osd 's gun glac mi ann stop, But by far the best song that John Grant ever composed was when the big sheep were introduced to Glenmoriston-an innovation in land management, to which he evidently was averse. On this occasion he said, apparently referring in the opening lines to one of the Grants of Glenmoriston, then deceased : Deoch slainte 'Choirneil nach maireann, 'Se 'chumadh seol air a ghabhail ; Na'm biodh esan os ur cionn Cha bhiodh na cruinn air na sparran, |