gh price, within
the reach of a wide circle of readers--is to be issued by Mr Hugh
Mackenzie, Bank Lane, in 12 monthly parts at 2s each, Edited, with
Memoir and Notes, by the Rev. Mr Stewart, "Nether-Lochaber." In this way
the work will be much easier to get. It only requires to be known to
secure the demand such an authority on the Celt--his language,
literature, music, and ancient costume--deserves.

* * * * *

WE take the following from the late Dr Norman Macleod's "Reminiscences
of a Highland Parish" on Highlanders ashamed of their country. We
believe the number to whom the paragraph is now applicable is more
limited than when it first saw the light, but we could yet point to a
few of this contemptible tribe, of whom better things might be expected.
We wish the reader to emphasize every line and accept it as our own
views regarding these treacle-beer would-be-genteel excrescences of our
noble race. A wart or tumour sometimes disfigures the finest oak of the
forest, and these so-called Highlanders are just the warts and tumours
of the Celtic races--they have their uses, no doubt:--"One class
sometimes found in society we would especially beseech to depart; we
mean Highlanders ashamed of their country. Cockneys are bad enough, but
they are sincere and honest in their idolatry of the Great Babylon.
Young Oxonians or young barristers, even when they become slashing
London critics, are more harmless than they themselves imagine, and
after all inspire less awe than Ben-Nevis, or than the celebrated
agriculturist who proposed to decompose that mountain with acids, and to
scatter the debris as a fertiliser over the Lochaber moss. But a
Highlander born, who has been nurtured on oatmeal porridge and oatmeal
cakes; who in his youth wore home-spun cloth, and was innocent of shoes
and stockings; who blushed in his attempts to speak the English
language; who never saw a nobler building for years than the little kirk
in the glen, and who owes all that makes him tolerable in society to the
Celtic blood which flows in spite of him through his veins;--for this
man to be proud of his English accent, to sneer at the everlasting
hills, the old kirk and its simple worship, and despise the race which
has never disgraced him--faugh! Peat reek is frankincense in comparison
with him; let him not be distracted by any of our reminiscences of the
old country; leave us, we beseech of thee!"

THE