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diff --git a/75337-0.txt b/75337-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..18df551 --- /dev/null +++ b/75337-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1882 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75337 *** + + + + + + AN + ADDRESS TO HIGHLANDERS + RESPECTING THEIR + NATIVE GAELIC: + SHOWING + ITS AND THE BROAD SCOTCH’S SUPERIORITY + OVER THE ARTIFICIAL ENGLISH + FOR THE + FAMILY AND THE SOCIAL CIRCLE, + AND ALSO FOR + LYRIC POETRY. + + BY + ARCHIBALD FARQUHARSON. + + EDINBURGH: MACLACHLAN AND STEWART. + GLASGOW: W. LOVE. OBAN: J. MILLER. + INVERNESS: J. NOBLE. STORNOWAY: MACPHERSON & CO. + 1868. + + +GENTLEMEN OF THE PRESS, + +Aware of your great powers, I stand before your bar to plead, that ye +may plead for my countrymen, that they may be taught first to read their +mother tongue, which would not only be the most rational, but also the +most natural way of teaching them. + +What an encouragement would it be to children to find their mother tongue +in their lessons—the very words they heard from her lips and their +playmates. How different from groping their way in the dark, in reading a +language they know nothing about. In the former case their judgment would +not only be in exercise, but would also assist and help to keep them +right; whereas in the latter case their judgment would give them no aid, +the whole depending upon their memory. + +Were they thus taught first to read the Gaelic, and then to commence with +the English alphabet and the English pronunciation, and when reading, +to translate every word into Gaelic, it would not only exercise their +memory, but their judgment also, and encourage them to persevere, seeing +they were enabled to master the difficulties, being aided by one another +as well as by the teacher. + +Is there no native Scotchman also that will stand at your bar to plead +for his mother tongue? Is that not the tongue, gentlemen, that many of +you heard from your mother’s lips, and that soothed you in the days of +your childhood? And ought you not to have the natural instinct to plead +for it yourselves?—to plead that the Broad Scotch should be the first +language taught in every part of Scotland, except where the Gaelic is +spoken; and when they could read their mother tongue, to commence at once +with the English alphabet and the English pronunciation, and when reading +it to translate every word into broad Scotch, such as _have_, hae; _so_, +sae; _of_, o’; _with_, wi, &c. + +Before the time of the singing of birds shall ever dawn upon Scotland, +the Scotch must not only return to their native tongue but to their +native melodies also. Is it not a fact that there are no songs listened +to in the city of London with so much pleasure as the Scotch. I would +not be surprised although the native language and the native melodies of +Scotland are destined to give songs of praise to every part of the world +where the English language is spoken. + + + + +ADDRESS TO HIGHLANDERS. + + +MY FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN, + +I lately considered it my duty to address the Highland Proprietors on +a subject which has been most painful to us all, namely, on “Highland +Clearances,”[1] and the same spirit which urged me to write that address, +urges me to write the present. A lover of my country I am, and ever have +been; and if there is anything more than another that is peculiar to my +native country which I love, it is the language. It was the language that +gave us a name, and that made us to differ from the rest of Scotland. If +there is anything more than another that makes me feel proud as a man, +it is this: that the Gaelic is my native tongue, and the Highlands of +Scotland my native country. A language more glittering with a refined +imagination than the former, and a country more glittering with the same +than the latter, in the names given to the different places, is not, I +believe, to be found on earth. I am also a great lover of the native +melodies of my country. I am aware that many of a serious turn of mind, +not putting a distinction between songs and the melodies accompanying +them, have been led to look upon them as something bad, calling them +cursed songs and cursed bagpipes. But they might as well call the +Gaelic by the same name, because wicked men use it for a bad purpose. +The Gaelic may be used for a good purpose, and so may these beautiful +melodies. There are many who use instruments of music in their parlours +for a good purpose, and why might not the bagpipes be used in the same +way? Any music that surpasses the melody of the bagpipes, in a Highland +glen, resounding from rocks, I have never listened to. I am sorry that +the old beautiful melodies of the Highlands are only to be found now, in +most places, amongst the aged, and that the young race have lost them +almost entirely. As the friend of our race, I would say to them: Gather +them all up, that none of them be lost. You can scarcely leave a better +inheritance for your children. I would willingly part with everything I +have in the world to be in possession of them. + +Do not suppose that when a man becomes a Christian he ceases to be a +patriot—a lover of his country. No doubt he ceases to be a lover of +everything sinful peculiar to his countrymen, but I have no idea of +that religion that would make a man cease to be a man. Did the great +Apostle of the Gentiles ever forget that he was a Hebrew of the Hebrews? +No doubt he renounced it as the foundation of his hope before God, +but to the latest day of his life he never forgot it. The highest +degree of patriotism that ever existed in the soul of man existed in +his great heart. Hear his language: “I say the truth in Christ, I lie +not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I +have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart, for I could wish +that myself were accursed from Christ [was willing to be appointed +by Christ to suffering and death, if by that means he could save his +countrymen.—_Barnes_], for my brethren and kinsmen according to the +flesh.” _Romans_ ix. 1-3. Did religion drive away patriotism from the +hearts of Jeremiah, Daniel, and Nehemiah? No; instead of that, it made +them patriots in the highest sense of the term. + +As a lover of my country, I cannot but be grieved to see the Gaelic dying +away in many parts. In several districts where, thirty or forty years +ago, the great body of the people remained after the English service, now +the great body of the people retire. In those districts where Buchanan’s, +Grant’s, and M’Gregor’s poems were read and sung, now the great body of +the people cannot read a word of them; and as for their beautiful airs, +they have lost them almost entirely. This has arisen, no doubt, from the +youth not having been taught to read it in their schools; and the reason +of that again is, that it is generally considered as a barrier in the way +of their education. Parents wish to make scholars of their children, and +they think the best way to do so is by renouncing the Gaelic altogether. +This, I have no hesitation in saying, is a false, and quite an erroneous +view of the subject. The Germans, the greatest scholars in the world—I +have been told that the first language which many of them study is the +Gaelic; and I can tell those parents who wish to make scholars of their +children, by all means to give them a good English education, but never, +never lay aside the Gaelic, but have them well grounded in it. Where is +the man that ever attempted to acquire the knowledge of Latin, Greek, +or Hebrew, that did not feel how greatly he was aided in doing so by a +knowledge of it? Were one to see two boys at school together enjoying +equal advantages, the one having the Gaelic and the other not, he would +generally see the Highlander actually rising above his fellow; and I +believe that were Highlanders to enjoy equal advantages with others, +they would be found generally rising above their fellows at college. +Were there two brothers of equal talents—the one to neglect the Gaelic +entirely, and to commence with the English, then Latin, Greek, and +Hebrew; and the other with greater patience, while engaged with the +English, to have himself well grounded in the Gaelic, and then, although +more tardy and apparently behind his brother, to commence with Latin, +Greek, and Hebrew, he would in the long run fairly outstrip his brother. +It has been remarked that, in the time of the Peninsular war, none in the +British army could more readily hold intercourse with the inhabitants +than the Highland regiments. The Governor of Auckland, New Zealand, is +a Highlander, and the reason why he succeeded to that honourable post +was because he was enabled to act as an interpreter between the British +and the natives. How was he so successful? His knowledge of the Gaelic +accounts for it. + +Another thing that has a tendency to do away with the Gaelic is because +individuals from the low country are getting in amongst them, and as they +find the people able to converse with them, they do not put themselves +to the trouble of acquiring a knowledge of their language. I would not +wish my countrymen to act uncivilly towards such, yet I think they might +show them at least that they respect their own language; and as they have +chosen the Highlands as their place of residence, they would also choose +their language as their own. I have known many who could not speak one +word of Gaelic, and who in a short time could speak it quite well. + +Another thing that has a tendency to do away with the Gaelic, is, that +many Highland ministers marry wives who cannot speak one word of Gaelic. +Their children, especially their daughters, follow the mother, and not +one word of Gaelic is spoken in the family, nothing but genteel pure +English. So that the man, however hearty a Highlander he might have been, +is fairly vanquished in his own house. He loses heart in the Gaelic; not +accustomed to speak it in his family, he loses his relish to preach in +it. He gets careless about it in his sermons, in the school, and in the +whole parish; and perhaps whispers in the ears of some that it is in +vain attempting to keep it up, and that it is as well that it should die +a natural death. The daughters are no doubt taught music and drawing, +and, of course, French, but not one word of Gaelic, which is considered +too vulgar for young Misses. And these the daughters of a Highland +clergyman—a Gaelic preaching minister! Tell it not in London, publish it +not in the streets of Paris, lest the daughters of the former rejoice, +lest the daughters of the latter triumph. I think that a minister’s +wife should be humble, and so condescending as that when she enters the +manse she should provide herself with Munro’s Grammar and M’Alpine’s +Dictionary, and with the aid of her husband and female servants, to +master the Gaelic, which would be more to her credit than—while their +union lasted—to be in the habit of leaving her pew, and retiring with +the genteel, the fashionable, and the gay, when her husband was about to +commence the Gaelic service; proving to a demonstration that she had no +great regard either for himself or for the truths which he preached. + +It has a tendency likewise to do away with the Gaelic that the genteel, +the polite, and the fashionable do not speak it. Genteel! That man does +not deserve the name of a Highland gentleman who does not speak, not +only the English, but the Gaelic properly. It is true that there are +many Highland proprietors going about through the country dressed in the +Highland garb, who cannot speak one sentence properly in the Gaelic. Were +I to meet any such I think I would be disposed to give them the following +salutation:—“I am glad, sir, to see you in that dress, but how dare you +wear that kilt without speaking the Gaelic?” Were these gentlemen to +know the commanding influence which the Gaelic would give them in the +affection and esteem of the people, and how their very names would be +cherished by them, not only during their life-time, but embalmed after +their death, they would consider it a perquisite to a Highland proprietor +to speak the Gaelic. If there is an individual on earth that I would be +disposed to envy, he is a Highland proprietor who speaks the Gaelic, who +appears among his tenants,—not as the haughty lord, not as the sectarian +bigot, not as the foreigner, not in his representative, the factor—but in +his precious self; as the warm-hearted, the noble, the homely Highland +gentleman. The command of such a man would move the whole country, +because he who gave it had a place in the affections of the inhabitants. +His threatenings would have a greater influence in keeping down roguery +than all the police in the world, and his frown would be more dreaded +than transportation for life. There was a very touching account given in +the _Perthshire Advertiser_ of the late John Stewart Menzies, Esq., of +Chestill, not more touching than true. I know the thrill of delight it +spread, not only amongst his own tenants, but over the whole country, +when it was known that he would not allow his servants to speak anything +to his children but the Gaelic. I remember seeing him upwards of twenty +years ago, when in the prime of manhood—the day that the Queen arrived +at Taymouth Castle. The impression is still fresh upon my mind,—the +noble appearance of the man dressed in the Highland garb, the sonorous +sound of his voice as he addressed the Highlanders in Gaelic, requesting +them to give three hearty cheers, so loud as to be heard at Benmore (a +mountain upwards of twenty miles distant.) He gave a similar address in +English, but it made no impression on me compared with the Gaelic. There +was a majestic tone that accompanied the Gaelic which the English could +not imitate. The Breadalbane Gaelic is the most appropriate that could +be used from the lips of commanding officers of any in the Highlands. I +could easily conceive what a powerful effect an address from a Chieftain +would have over his clan in ancient times. + +I know that we have been accustomed to look upon ourselves as a sociable +and warm-hearted race, and to look upon our neighbours as cold-hearted. +Now, the Lowland Scotch are anything but cold-hearted; they are also +warm-hearted; but compared with us they are cold—at least we think them +so. We cannot be called a cruel people; no doubt there are such among +us—it is not our characteristic. We cannot be called proud or haughty. +There is a good deal of that amongst us, but it is generally confined +to a certain class, and more in the west than in the east—it is not our +characteristic. We cannot be called a deceitful race; there is certainly +too much of that amongst us, but it is not universal, it is confined to +certain individuals. I have known some long-headed fellows amongst us, +as perfectly up to the art of deception as any I have ever seen—still it +is not our characteristic. Revenge cannot be called the characteristic +of Highlanders. Revengeful certainly they are, and perhaps as much so as +any in Britain, so that I cannot, I dare not say that revenge may not +be characteristic of some of them—still it is not their characteristic. +This then is the characteristic of our race—_a warm-hearted Highlander_. +I know, without fear of contradiction, that this will find a response in +every mind that knows them properly. It is also characteristic of the +native Irish. If Robert Burns saw that nasty thing amongst us which he +called “Hieland pride,” he saw something else that caught his attention, +namely, “a Hieland Welcome;” and what can that be but the welcome that +the warm-hearted give to their friends. I know a young lad who was in a +certain glen for a week in search of sheep who had wandered. He was in +many a house, but in none of them did they ask him “Had he dined?” No +such questions were put, but in every house they put meat on the table, +and urged him with a heartiness peculiar to themselves, to partake of it. +Now, I ask, where in Scotland or in England would a man meet with such +warm-hearted hospitality. The same lad was in a house at another time, +where the wife was a Baptist, who asked him, “Have you breakfasted?” He +reasoned with himself—If I say “No,” it will be the same as asking my +breakfast, so he said “Yes.” The consequence was that he was that day +in the hills without breakfast, well chastised for telling a falsehood. +But was the good woman to be justified after all; ought she not to have +entered more into the feelings of bashful youth. I know two ministers +who were in a certain glen preaching the Gospel together. The one a +Highlander, the other asked him two or three times, “Where shall we rest +all night?” The other had no anxiety on the subject, knowing that the +difficulty would be how to refuse invitations, answered, “Do you see that +slated house on the other side of the river?” “Yes,” he replied. “Well, I +do not know who is there, but if we get no other place we’ll go there.” + +Now, a warm heart is one of the most agreeable features of human nature. +Whatever a man may have, if this be awanting in him, he is destitute of +that which would render him an object of affection. A man may be wise, +shrewd, clever, intelligent, patient, and even sincere; but if he has +not a warm heart, he is destitute of the brightest ornament that can +adorn his nature. Now, I ask, what is it that gives us this feature +in our character? Is it because we entered into the world with kinder +dispositions than others? I have no idea of that. I believe it is our +Gaelic that has done it. Whether it was our warm hearts that gave us +the Gaelic, or the Gaelic that gave us the warm hearts, is a difficult +question. The influence, I believe, has been mutual. And I am certain, +if there is a language upon earth that might be called the language of +a warm-hearted people, it is the Gaelic. So that, as a race, we have +received our shape from the mould into which we have been cast, by the +lips of our fond mothers pouring the eloquence of their affectionate +souls into our tender minds. I have known mothers in the Highlands, +who could speak the English as well as any in Edinburgh who, when +their children, being hurt, came crying to them, would fling away their +grammatical English as quite unsuited for the occasion, and begin to +address them in the endearing epithets of the Gaelic, which alone could +express their feelings. + +Let any person compare the endearing epithets in the Gaelic with those +in the English, and even in the broad Scotch, which is far in advance of +the English in that respect, and he cannot but see how far short they +come. They are few in the English—“love,” “my love;” “dear,” “my dear;” +“darling,” “my darling.” They are not only few, but they are entirely +without melody. There is no melody in “love:” the lips are closed in +pronouncing it, and entirely exclude melody. “Dear” is equally destitute +of melody: it ends with the driest, and the letter that has the least +melody in the whole alphabet. “Darling” is not so bad, but comparatively +has no melody. Now, to say that melody has no effect upon the human mind +the whole world would contradict. It is a principle of nature’s teaching, +that melody affects the human mind. The English language is artificial, +and not the language of nature, and consequently is entirely without +melody. + +Let these endearing epithets be put into the lips of that enchantress, +the Scotchwoman, who sets to music almost everything that passes through +her fingers:—“Love,” “lovie,” “my lovie;” “dear,” “dearie,” “my dearie;” +“my wee darling,” “my darling petty,” “my darling Johnnie;” “my wee +lammie,” “my darling lammie;” “my sweetie,” “my sweet babie.” There is +melody for you that would charm the very adders. Ah! but it is vulgar. +“They are sour, they are sour,” said the fox, when he could not reach +at the grapes. It is vulgar when the pride of a refined style of pure +English prevents many from using it. If there is vulgarity in it, it is +such as the English language cannot produce—not indeed, on account of its +vulgarity, but on account of its true refinement. + +Let us turn now to the endearing epithets in the Gaelic, and we shall +find them towering as high above the English and the broad Scotch as our +Highland mountains tower high above theirs. _Gradh_, _a ghraidh_ (love, +my love), the _dh_ almost silent; _a ghraidh_ is equally strong with “my +love,” and full of melody; _gaol_, _a ghaoil_ (love, my love, or dear, +my dear). “_Ghaoil, a ghaoil, do na fearaibh_,” (M’Lachlan), the most +endearing expression which could come from the lips of man, which the +English cannot imitate, and which it is impossible properly to translate. +The nearest approach that can be made to it—“Thou dearest, or most +beloved, or most loving of men.” How touching _Mo ghaolan_, _mo ghaolag_, +the former the diminutive masculine, the latter the diminutive feminine, +the _an_ being the sign of the one and the _ag_ the sign of the other, +and being the same as in broad Scotch affectionate. _Cheist_, _a cheist_, +_mo cheist_, _mo cheistean_, _mo cheisteag_ (the question, thou art the +question, thou art my question, thou art my wee question, boy or girl). +What is the question with the fond mother? What shall I do with my +child? How shall I comfort him? How shall I make him happy? _Eudail_, _m’ +eudail_, _m’ eudail bheag_—(thou art property, thou art my property, thou +art my wee property). _Eudail_ literally means cattle or property of any +kind. _Run_ literally means intention, secret, disposition, inclination, +regard; but when used as an endearing epithet, it is the strongest in any +language, and means an object where all the desires and affections of the +soul meet as in a focus, an object on which they are fixed. + + O’n bha Iosa, mo rùn, + Greis ’n a luidh anns an ùir, + Rinn e’n leaba so cùbhraidh dhomhs.—M’GREGOR. + +This is the epitaph which I wish to place on my grave-stone, which cannot +properly be translated. + + Because Jesus, my run, + Was asleep in the uir (dust), + This bed he perfumed to me. + +How often such expressions as the following are heard from the lips of +mothers, and are still more powerful when they come from the lips of a +father:—_O! a ruin, gabh mo chomhairle_ (O my child, take my advice); _Mo +runan beag_ (My wee dear boy); _Mo runag bheag_ (My wee dear girl); and, +used as an adjective, _Runach, mo bhalachan runach_ (My wee loving boy); +_Mo chaileag runach_ (My wee loving girl). We have another word, which +is the sweetest in the language and full of melody, _Luaidh_, the _dh_ +being almost silent. It literally means “mention,” “to make mention;” but +when used as a noun it means “a beloved person,” “an object of praise,” +“an object on which to expatiate or to talk about by way of praise.” How +powerful from the lips of parents or friends—_Mo luaidh, a luaidh nan +gillean_ (thou dearest of lads); _a luaidh nan nighean_ (thou dearest of +girls). + +It adds greatly to the force of these epithets when used along with _mo +chridhe_ (my heart), as _a ghraidh_, _a ghaoil_, _a cheist_, _eudail_, +_a run_, _a luaidh mo chridhe_. Any one of these epithets used along +with _mo chridhe_, from the lips of an affectionate mother, is as much +calculated to soften the heart, and to bring tears from the eyes, as any +sounds that can come from the lips of a human being. And equally strong, +if not more so, _a laoidh mo chridhe_ (thou calf of my heart). Do not +laugh at us, ye Lowland mothers—ye have your ain “wee lammies,” and we +have our ain “wee calfies,” and recollect that our calfies are bonnier +than yours. And, besides, I suppose it is seldom you give milk to the +ewe’s lammies; that is not, however, the case with our mammies—they +frequently give milk to the cow’s calfies, and hence it cannot but occur +to them that each has a calfie of her own to give milk to. The proper +pronunciation of this word is impossible for an Englishman to come to, +and might be called the shibboleth. There is no sound in the Gaelic that +has more of that melody that subdues and softens. The tongue has scarcely +anything to do but merely to touch the upper teeth in pronouncing the +_l_, and then to withdraw, and, remaining passive, the sound is made by +the gullet, and is as if it proceeded from the heart. + +For “my sweet lammie,” we have _m’uanan_, _m’uanag mhilis_, masculine and +feminine. For “darling,” “my darling,” we have _chiall_, _mo chiallan_, +_mo chiallag_—both in the diminutive masculine and feminine; and let +it be borne in mind that the diminutive in the Gaelic is expressive +of affection like the broad Scotch. For “kind,” “kindness,” we have +_caoimhneas_, _caoimhneil_, full of melody. But we have also _caoin_ +(kind), which is taken from the verb _caoineadh_ (weeping). We know that +weeping is generally expressive of kindness. It is very extraordinary +that _guil_ (to weep), is taken from _guth shuil_ (the voice of the +eyes). There is another word still, and equally melting, and more +soothing to the feelings, _caomh_ (kind), _caomhail_ (kindly), _caomhach_ +(a kind person), _caomhan_, _caomhag_, masculine and feminine diminutive. +_Mo dhuine caomh_ (my kind man), the most endearing expression that +can come from the lips of a woman to her husband. I have never had +the pleasure of listening to the endearing epithets expressive of the +maternal feelings of a Northumberland, a Yorkshire, or an Essex mother; +but I am pretty certain that nature has supplied them with something more +expressive of their feelings than the English language can do. + +Ye Lowland Scotch, look at our language! Many surly critics amongst +you have hitherto been listening to it with the ear, and looking at it +with the scowling eye of contempt. Look at it again—look at it aright, +and that contempt will give place to admiration! Ye refined, ye learned +Englishmen, enter this our vale of Athol through the Highland mouth’s +paradise, Dunkeld; not with railway speed, but at your leisure. Let your +ears be charmed with the melody of our groves, and let your cold hearts +be warmed with the comforts of our Highland homes. + +Now, my countrymen, look at your own language. Have you any cause to be +ashamed of it? Have you not cause rather to be proud of it, and even to +bless God for giving you such a language? Would you wish to renounce +that language, so expressive of the kindest feelings of the heart, and +which has made us what we are—a warm-hearted, sociable race? Would you +wish to renounce it, and to receive in its place the language taught +in your schools? Should you ever do so, let me tell you that you will +renounce your warm hearts along with it—both shall be buried in the same +grave together, and you will make but a very poor exchange; as poor, +as if you passed from sunny France to Greenland, the land of snow and +frost. The language taught in your schools is for the head, but not +for the heart—for the understanding, not for the soul; yes, for the +mental faculties, not for the affections. And as such study it; you will +never be great scholars without a knowledge of it; it is essential to +obtaining the knowledge of the different branches of education. But let +it never be the language of your firesides, of your parlours, of your +social gatherings. The language taught in your schools is the language +of scholars, of learned men (these dry mortals); and may be called the +language of art, or an artificial language. But your language is the +language of nature, of affectionate parents, kind-hearted companions, of +your countrymen; and while speaking it you act as natural a part as the +sheep in bleating. + +Men’s great effort in the present time is to do away, not only with +the Highland Gaelic, but also with the Provincial dialects in Scotland +and in England; and to substitute in their place pure English. All are +drilled with the same grammars—regulated by the same vocabularies, +without one word but proper English; and every word to be pronounced +with the same accuracy. This is what they aim at, and rejoice in their +success; and are apt to pity those poor creatures that are not willing to +be ruled by them. Well, should they be successful and reach the summit +of their ambition, to which they no doubt look forward with pleasure; +when they shall get every man, woman, and child, from John o’ Groat’s +to Land’s End, under the sway of pure English, and, standing on the +highest pinnacle of the pyramid which they have reared, what shall they +behold? One universal, uniform level. No rising ground, no elevated +spots, no sloping eminences, no ranges of mountains to relieve the +mind and please the eye. Should they be successful, instead of being a +source of rejoicing to them, they would have a greater cause to weep +over the havoc they have made in the beautiful variety of nature; more +resembling the work of locusts than of rational men. Man’s great effort +is uniformity, perfect uniformity. God’s method is variety. Which the +most glorious—man’s uniformity or God’s variety? The former like the work +of a man, the latter like the work of a God. The former would sicken my +soul, the latter would put me in ecstasy. And the same effort is made +by all the different denominations of Christians. Uniformity of creed +and of worship is their great aim and wish; and the more successful they +are, the more they are pleased with themselves. But by persevering in the +course they are taking, never, never shall they reach millennial glory. +Before they shall reach that, they must not only give over their present +attempt, but retrace their steps, and rest satisfied with God’s method +of a glorious variety. In this way, and in this way alone, shall God’s +people be properly united, and enjoy one another. + +Who is not delighted with the different varieties of Gaelic spoken in the +Highlands? Is it not much more agreeable than were the whole under the +sway of our standard Gaelic. The same words used, the same pronunciation, +the same tones everywhere; which would make the whole Highlands, as +regards the Gaelic, a perfect level. Whereas, in its present state, there +is a variety of scenery to relieve the mind—towering mountains here and +there. + +There Ben Nevis lifting its head above the rest, as if bidding defiance +to the whole for having the best Gaelic. That was the native place +of M’Lachlan, one of the best Gaelic scholars that ever lived, and a +first-rate poet too. The Fort-William people may ascend the top of Ben +Nevis with the elegy that he composed to Professor Beattie, Aberdeen, +and defy, not only the English, but even the broad Scotch to produce its +equal. The air of that piece is one of the most plaintive that ever I +have listened to, being the air of that old song called “The Massacre of +Glencoe.” + +Ben Cruachan, again, at the other end of that range of magnificent +mountains, representing the mainland of Argyleshire. And although it may +not vie with the other in point of height, it may surpass it in point of +rich pasture, and be almost its equal in point of an extensive survey +from its summit. + +Ben Lawers represents the Breadalbane Gaelic, _a’ chainnt shocrach, +choir_. Some consider it too drawling; yet I am delighted with it, being +the best suited and the most appropriate that could come from the lips +of a Breadalbanite. They are the best people for being heard in the +distance that I know. A person would be almost led to think they acquired +that habit by their forefathers having been accustomed to talk with one +another across Loch Tay. + +_Si-chailinn_, again, representing the Glenlyon, the Strathtummel, +and the Rannoch Gaelic, which I believe is a corruption of “_Ciche +chailinn_.” Our Lowland neighbours have retained the sense, “The Maiden’s +pap.” Rannoch has perhaps the best Gaelic in Perthshire. + +_Benaglo_ represents the Blair Athol and the Strathardle Gaelic. May a +race ever surround it that will understand + + Beinn a ghlodh nan eag, + Beinn a bheag ’us airgead mheann, + Beinn a bhuirich ’us damh na croic ann, + ’S allt nead ’n coin ri ceann. + +_Beinn a bhrachdaidh_ represents the Athol Gaelic, rich in pasture, noble +in appearance; but let it take care of a colony forming at its base, that +they will not undermine it and blow it up. Pitlochrie is extending its +cottages, filled with foreigners. May it ever be a source of protection +to the Atholites from the cold northern blasts of the language taught in +their schools. + +_Ghlaismhaol_, on whose summit the three counties of Perth, Forfar, and +Aberdeen meet, we may almost score out of our list, as it has almost +deserted us. + +_Benmacdui_, representing the Badenoch and the Braemar Gaelic; but let it +take care that it will not be in the descending scale. + +_Beinn Bhiogair_, in Islay, raises its head as high as it can, +representing the Islay Gaelic, which is certainly good. The females +in Islay, with the exception of those in North Uist, are the sweetest +speakers of Gaelic that I know. Islay is the native place of M’Alpine, +the author of the pronouncing dictionary, which is very good, only there +are a few words with the Islay pronunciation which do not suit other +places. + +_’Bheinnmhor_, in Mull, raises its head high, and so it may, for its +Gaelic is excellent. Its inhabitants speak it generally with great +correctness and fluency. But I am not sure if it can look down upon all +its neighbours. There is an island beyond it, namely, Tiree, which, +though it has no large mountains like those in Mull to boast of, still +the few it has are beautiful, and green to the top, whose inhabitants are +amongst the prettiest and the most fluent speakers in the Highlands. They +have no tone whatever like many others, and it is seldom they commit a +grammatical blunder; their very peculiarities are pretty; a person would +be almost led to think that they are born grammarians. A boy six or eight +years of age might teach grammar to one-third of the Highland population. +Their only fault is having too many English words in their vocabulary. +As this is not a fault peculiar to the Tiree people, I would caution +Highlanders against the practice. If they can find a Gaelic word to suit +the purpose, why use an English word? I have known Highlanders that had +dogs, and that disdained to call them by an English name, or to speak one +word to them in English, and who pitied those poor fellows that thought +their dogs could not be taught to answer in Gaelic. + +_Chuillinn Sgiathanach_, the chief mountain in Skye, raising its head +aloft as if saying, “We have the best Gaelic in the Highlands.” Certainly +they have good Gaelic, and they speak it in a way peculiar to themselves, +which is delightful to listen to, but still no one but a simpleton would +attempt to imitate them. + +_Hough mor_, South Uist (_Hough_ means mountain), raises its head as if +determined not to be behind the rest; and so it may, for it is second +to no other place in the Highlands. As for Lewes, it is like a kingdom +by itself. There we have the only individual that attempted to write +the history of Scotland in Gaelic. Thanks to him for his effort. May +he not be disappointed in his expectation. Let my countrymen show that +they appreciate his labours, by putting themselves in possession of his +work. Should he publish a second edition, the names of places, I think, +would be better as they are in English, or, if translated, to be put in +the margin. As there is a good deal of provincialism in the Gaelic of +Lewes, I think, in writing, it would be better if possible to follow our +standard of Gaelic. + +As I have never been in Sutherlandshire, nor on the mainland of Ross and +Inverness-shires, I am not prepared to speak from personal knowledge of +the various shades of difference there, resembling their chief mountains; +but I know there are differences. Let each class not be ashamed of +their own peculiarity. It is the language of their nature, and they act +according to their nature when they speak it. For a Ross-shire man to +attempt to imitate an Argyleshire man would make him ridiculous, and +for the latter to attempt to imitate the former would make him equally +so. I have known men who, when they sold their stirks, spoke their own +language, but when engaged in prayer to God, spoke in the language and +tones of Ross-shire. Are they so stupid as not to know that it is not to +the tones of the voice that God will listen, but to the earnest pleadings +of believing hearts? There are several districts in the Highlands where +the Gaelic has sadly degenerated; their best plan would be to get +teachers from those parts where it is not so. + +The great object, then, at present is not only to do away with our Gaelic +in all its beautiful variety, but to do away with the broad Scotch in all +its beautiful variety likewise, and to establish upon their ruins pure +English. Now, I have not one word to say against the English. I admire it +as the best that could be used for our halls of learning, for discussing +any public question, and for handling any intricate subject. But I +must declare that it has a baneful effect on society. It is the worst +language that could be used for parents, children, brothers, sisters, +companions, and for the social gathering. Being an artificial language, +it makes society so too. It has a tendency to puff them up with pride. +Instead of making them pliable, it makes them stiff; distant and reserved +instead of being homely; unnatural instead of natural; unsociable +instead of sociable; and instead of making them easy, imposes its own +yoke of ceremonial bondage upon its votaries; and I have no hesitation +in affirming, without fear of contradiction, that pure English, instead +of regenerating society, has the contrary effect. It is probable that I +may be sneered at for so affirming, but it will remain a fact when the +sneering is over, and will yet be acknowledged when I am dead and laid +in the grave. Let any person seriously consider the fearful havoc it has +made, not only in the Highlands, but also in our large cities. It has +divided society into two—the refined and the vulgar; the genteel and +the homely; the upper and the lower class; the select and the common. +What has it made of the most of our Highland proprietors? Are they what +they used to be, the men of the people, standing on a common level with +them in speaking their native Gaelic? No, they are now as if they were +a race of foreigners amongst them, high up above their heads, without +any sympathy with them, disdaining to speak one word to them but in +pure English. It has likewise a baneful effect on the middle class of +society, those who aspire after it, who put themselves amongst “the +would-be genteel,” who in the pride of their hearts, although they can +speak Gaelic, deny that they can, and become ashamed of it at home and +abroad. The consequence is, that when the English sermon is over, they +must retire with the genteel and the fashionable, and disdain to remain +amongst a company of vulgar Highlanders, listening to a vulgar discourse +in Gaelic. To what shall I compare these “would-be gentlemen and ladies?” +Shall I compare them to the vain peacock showing his beautiful tail, or +to the ass showing its long ears? I think I will compare them to both. +There they are retiring as if saying, “See what beautiful tails we have +got.” “O yes, yes,” might those within say to them, “we see them, we see +them, but we see your long ears likewise.” + +Were there a discourse in broad Scotch delivered in the Lowlands after +the superfine English, depend upon it your fine ladies and gentlemen +would retire all in a band before their ears would be horrified by its +sweet melody, and it would be a first-rate excuse to pretend that they +had lost their broad Scotch. + + “Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled.” + +You are in danger also, not from the chains and slavery of proud Edward’s +power, but from another quarter you never suspect, namely, the _Dominie’s +tawse_. Take care that he’ll not rob you of your wifies, weans; your +Johnnies, Tammies, Willies; your Jessies, Katies, and Betsies; yes, your +bonnie lammies, and from many other wee bits o’ things which you hae +tingling about your hearths, and around your affections, which make you +so sociable and happy, and moreover gives you such unparalleled tongues +for melody and music. Again, as your friendly neighbour, I say take care. + +I am convinced, that were the broad Scotch mixed with an English +vocabulary, and pronounced as it is generally by educated Scotsmen, +we would have a language for all the purposes of life, far surpassing +the pure English, and which, instead of it being our envy, ours would +actually be the envy of Englishmen. Such a language would not only give +us clear heads, but also warm hearts; would not only be the best for the +higher departments of literature, but the best for our homes, as husbands +and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters; for friends; +and in the social circle; and put us in possession of lyric poetry, +such as the English language has not, and never can produce. It is most +extraordinary that intelligent well educated Scotsmen never attempt to +speak their own language but when they wish to be humorous. Now, that +really implies that they see something pretty in it after all, but that +what is fashionable and customary amongst educated men prevents them from +using it but for such a purpose. But I think that the pretty thing should +not be altogether laid aside, but freely used, not merely for making the +social circle smile, but also for warming their hearts, and making each +feel that he is quite at home—in an honest, homely, cheerful Scotsman’s +home. + +How highly would I esteem that learned professor who, after delivering +his lecture to the students in pure English, would no sooner leave his +professional chair, and meet his friend, than he would salute him, not +as the learned professor, but as the homely Scotsman;—that when he would +enter his own dwelling and sit at the head of his family, he would appear +there in the same garb, and would set an example before his children, not +so much for correct speaking as for affability, kindness, and homeliness +of manner;—who, when he would appear in the social circle, would be +its life and soul—not indeed as the learned professor, but as the man +of feeling, of intelligence, and of sociality. Is it not a known fact +that great learning in a sermon actually destroys its effect, and that +great scholarship in a man eclipses the affectionate friend, the social +companion. A man brimful of learning we may admire but we cannot love. + +Now, such is the English, a learned language. The Scholar is seen almost +in every sentence. I may admire it, and in doing so I feel that it puffs +me up, but love it I cannot. It is not like the Gaelic and the broad +Scotch—the language of nature—but the language of art. In the Gaelic I +see my own image reflected, but in the English the image of the scholar. +As the Gaelic reflects the image of the Highlanders, and the broad Scotch +that of the Lowlanders, I cannot but love them. I may admire the works of +art, but love them I cannot; but the works of nature I not only admire, +but actually love them also, and I cannot but do so. + +The English language is not only to a great extent foreign to the Scotch +people, but it is almost equally so to the great body of the people of +England; and is it not extraordinary, that before men are considered +qualified for preaching the gospel to the native inhabitants, they must +do so in a language which they do not speak, and in a style of elocution +which is not natural to them. An Englishman’s elocution is the most +unlikely for moving a Scotchman, and far less a Highlander. I once +attended an elocution class, whether the better of it or not I cannot +say; but one day in the Highlands I opened the door and saw a woman +within twenty yards, beyond a dyke—the upper part of the body only seen, +her hair dishevelled, her hand raised, her fist shut, and scolding at +a fearful rate. I heard her tones, caught her expressions, noticed the +eloquence with which she spoke, and returned into the house, saying to +myself—“It was quite needless for me to have attended Mr Hartley’s class, +when elocution is to be found so near, and that of the right kind, the +elocution of nature.” + +Is it not a fact that some of the Methodists are sneered at by the Press +for attempting to speak to the people in their provincialism. Go on, +ye lively Methodists; never heed their sneers. You are doing the very +thing which the Holy Ghost enabled the Apostles to do—to speak unto men +in their own tongues. I question if the present style of preaching the +Gospel will ever gain the hearts of the Scotch people to God. And I would +not be surprised although God would show their folly to those who attempt +to do so by raising up Evangelists—men endowed with a good fund of common +sense and natural talent—men fired with zeal for the glory of God—moved +on with warm hearts and compassionate souls, who will preach the Gospel +to them in that language which is a part of their nature and the best +medium for getting at their hearts. We know that conversion is the work +of God, but when he deals with men he uses appropriate means. He does not +lay aside the natural laws of their nature, but acts in accordance with +them. When He unlocks the door of the heart He uses a key fitted for the +purpose; and is it possible that a pure English style can be the proper +key for unlocking the heart of that man who has been accustomed all his +life long to speak broad Scotch. Had the Gospel ever such an effect as +when it was preached in the native language of the country? There is +not only an orthodox creed, but there must also be an orthodox language +and even an orthodox elocution. It is to be feared that men with their +orthodoxy will allow poor sinners to go to hell. + +The orthodox creed, language, elocution, and even melodies, are all +artificial—the handiwork of that being man, who would be as gods, and +which are impossible to admire without being puffed up with a vain +conceit of his great powers. O! how different the effects in admiring +the handiwork of the Great Supreme as they are seen in nature—in birds, +beasts, fish, flowers, mountains, and dales, the native languages and +melodies of our races. The chattings of Highlanders and Lowlanders to one +another is as much the language of nature as the lowing of cattle, the +bleating of sheep, and the chirping of birds. And our native melodies are +as much the melodies of nature as the singing of larks and nightingales. +But proud man must do away with them by introducing his own artificial +language and melodies, on which he puts the stamp of orthodoxy. + +The pure English has not only committed a great havoc amongst us, +both in the Highlands and Lowlands, but there is also an Englified +style accompanying it in many places which is disgusting. Were there +an English lady to settle in one of our Highland towns she would soon +be surrounded by a goodly number of mimicking parrots. Cockneyism in +Cockneydom does very well; I would almost dance with delight to listen +to it there; but Cockneyism from the lips of a Scotchman, and far more +from a Highlander, I abominate. I have been quite ashamed of some of my +own countrymen, who, when they go South, are not satisfied with merely +imitating Scotchmen, but they must become regular Cockneys. Ah! the +pride of their hearts is contemptible. I would say to a Scotchman—if you +wish to show yourself a man, show yourself a Scotchman; and I would say +the same to a Highlander—if you also wish to show yourself a man, show +yourself a Highlander. Is an Englishman alone to have the privilege and +the honour of showing himself a man? Is he and his artificial English +to be exalted as a god in every part of the United Kingdom? Must every +knee bow and every tongue confess to him? I declare, in the name of my +countrymen, that we shall not worship at his shrine; we shall not fall +down and worship the golden image which he has set up. As a race, we and +our language have hitherto been unjustly and contemptuously treated. +But as we have in times past made others feel that we were alive, we +shall not only make Scotland, but England also, feel that as a race we +are still alive and have a language of our own. So that, from this time +henceforward, should one Highlander show his peacock-tail to another by +addressing him in any other language but his native Gaelic—considering +it more genteel—let him be told at once without any ceremony, _Tha mi +ga fhaicinn, tha mi ga fhaicinn, ach ata mi faicinn cluasan fad na +h-asail mar an ceudna_; and in like manner, should a Scotchman show his +peacock-tail to another by addressing him in any language but that of his +native country, let him also be told at once, “I see it, I see it, but I +see your long ears also.” + +There was an individual at one time called “the Flower o’ Dumblane.” +I wonder if there was one in the present time that might be called +the Flower of Glasgow, what like would she be. I suppose she would +be good-looking, a handsome body, and good features; I don’t say +either pretty or beautiful, but good; her expression sweet, amiable, +intelligent; her manner easy, graceful, natural; nothing awkward, nothing +artificial, but the spontaneous outflow of a kind heart, good taste, +and an enlightened mind. But how would the Flower be dressed? Of course +many would answer—quite in the fashion. I am not very sure about that; +I think quite in the fashion would disfigure the Flower. How then? Just +in such a manner as that no person would notice the dress at all, but +have the attention fixed upon the Flower, and that nothing could be said +about it but that it was befitting. But the Flower of Glasgow would not +require to be dumb, she must speak occasionally, but in doing so would +not put herself in the front rank of speakers. She would, however, be an +acute observer of what was said and done, and should anything deserve a +laugh, she would of course give a hearty one to show her white teeth and +her kind nature. When, however, any remark was made, or any question put +to her, demanding her saying something, she would of course speak out. +Bearing in mind that she is a native of Glasgow, that her mother was +that before her, a truly Scotch woman, who spoke the broad Scotch, but +considerably refined by her intelligence and good taste. Now, what would +be her style of speaking? Many would answer, no doubt, “In first-rate +English style.” I declare that that again would destroy the beauty of +your flower. There must be nothing artificial in a flower. The moment art +lays its hand upon it, or even touches it, its beauty fades. No doubt +there are many flowers in Glasgow, but many of them are artificial, and +differ as much from the real flower as the flowers in their shop windows +differ from those in the West End Park. There are many Scotch parents +who send their daughters to English boarding-schools to be as perfectly +Englified there as possible, but it is the same as if they put their +flowers into a hot-house in the month of July. A flower will never show +its beauty but in connection with its parent stem; remove it from that +and it fades. + +In order that a man may be a good member of society, he must be affable +and agreeable in his manner; but he can neither be the one nor the other +unless he is homely. And how can that man be homely who assumes an +Englified style of speaking foreign to his nature. I am aware that in +certain circles to say that a man is homely is nothing to his praise, +but implies that in their estimation he is awanting in something that +would make him a better member of society. He is too homely in his +dress, in his style, in his expressions—too homely in his manner as he +sits and holds his head, laughs and smiles; in short, he is too homely +in everything. But I wonder how they would improve the homely man. I +suspect the improvement would be something like the improvement that a +number of drunkards would make upon a sober man. They are intoxicated +themselves with a vain conceit of a certain standard of refinement, and +they must do their best to get him intoxicated also. In order to come +up to their standard, he must make a fop of himself—must make a fool of +himself by assuming a style of speaking not natural to him. He must sit +and hold his head in the fashionable position; if that is not its natural +position, he would require a person to sit behind him, and with a hand on +each side to keep it in the genteel position. His laughing must be all +feigned, not hearty, not natural; his smiling must be the same. In short, +in order to come up to their standard, he must make himself a regular +play-actor, a hollow hypocrite, a downright mimicking parrot. See that +female, how straight she holds her head. Is that its natural position? +Does she keep it that way at _hame_? I suspect not—there is evidently an +effort. My young woman, I am sorry for the misery you are inflicting upon +yourself. That which is generally called refined society is a society for +inflicting misery upon their dupes, and upon their race; and the females +of that society might be called sisters of cruelty, and not “sisters of +mercy.” + +Were there a society formed for improving nature as seen in birds and +four-footed animals, I suppose all men would look upon such as a society +of fools. But a society formed for improving nature as seen in the human +species, is more highly thought of than any society on earth. I leave +wise men to judge if there is not more of the fool in such a society than +they are aware of. And the first attempt that has been made to improve +the human species in Scotland is to do away with their native languages, +which are the languages of their nature, and which God hath given them +to make their feelings and their thoughts known to one another, and to +impose upon them a language which is foreign to their nature and not in +accordance with the feelings of their hearts. God knows what is better +for Highlanders than they know, and their best plan is, if they would +not set themselves up in opposition to him, to aid them in obtaining +more knowledge of their own language, for certainly they will obtain +the knowledge of salvation more readily through the medium of their own +than any language they can teach them. There are various ways in which +men attempt to improve nature as seen in the human species. I would say +leave them, let them alone to be guided by their own natural instincts +under the guidance of their parents. The only improvement that ought to +be attempted is giving them spiritual instincts—to impart the knowledge +of God to them through the medium of their own language—to make them +acquainted with God’s method of saving men through Christ—bringing +them under the influence of the love of God, giving them the hope of +glory—making them to rejoice in God their Saviour, and uniting them to +Christ and to one another in love. Then there will indeed be a refined +society, with heaven’s stamp upon it—natural, beautiful, glorious: as far +above what is called refined society as the heavens are high above the +earth. + +It is true that the Gaelic is not to be compared as a learned language +with the English, being very deficient in those technical terms that are +used in the various branches of education. But for ordinary purposes, the +Gaelic is not only equal but in many things surpasses the English. The +tongue of a Highlander surpasses any that I have listened to for sarcasm, +wit, and good humour. For showing the good qualities of one, or the bad +qualities of another, it is before the English. For expressing sympathy +with a fellow sufferer—for the house of prayer—for the family and the +social circle—for expressing the conjugal, the parental, the filial, the +brotherly, the friendly feelings and affections of the heart, it is far +in advance of the English. For preaching the gospel, for expatiating +on the love of God, for holding forth Jesus Christ and him crucified, +for catching and keeping the attention, for reaching and searching the +conscience, and for applying the subject to the heart, I have always +preferred it; and I am convinced that those who know it properly, and are +in the habit of using it, have the same feelings. Its very simplicity +gives it a power which the English does not possess. Who does not see +that the very simplicity of Judah’s pleading with Joseph for his brother +Benjamin gave it greater force than had it been delivered by Lord +Brougham. Many of the translations which I have seen in Gaelic are far +too literal and stiff. A literal translation will never tell on the minds +of Highlanders. The best way is to catch the ideas, and to express them +as they would do themselves. + +What the Gaelic is capable of doing is clearly seen from the _Gaelic +Messenger_ and Dr. M’Leod’s Collection, also the _Pilgrim’s Progress_ +with notes, and other works of John Bunyan, translated and edited by +Dr. M’Gilvray, Glasgow, which has not only come up to the original, +but in some things surpasses it. If _Good Words_ in the hands of the +son are good, good words in the hands of the father are not behind. +Any periodical more expressive, more telling, more touching, and more +entertaining than the _Gaelic Messenger_ I have never read; and the +principal reason why that periodical had not been more extensively +circulated, and why it has ceased to exist, is the great misfortune +connected with Highlanders—that the great body of them are not taught +to read the Gaelic. This misfortune is their disgrace—the disgrace +of parents—the disgrace of noblemen and gentlemen who are native +proprietors; yes, and the disgrace of ministers and schoolmasters. Let +them all awake and wipe away the disgrace from their native country. It +is with blushing shame for my country that I have to declare that never +in my younger days did I get a single lesson in the Gaelic in any school +that I attended, and I feel the ill effects of it to this day. + +There is one thing, however, in which the Gaelic greatly exceeds the +English, namely, in lyric poetry. From the very constitution of the two +languages the English will not even make a near approach to it. It is +capable of a great many contractions that the English is not capable of, +_agus_ and _’us_, _’s_. All monosyllables and trisyllables ending with +_a_, or _e_, may drop the last. Such words as _saoghalta_ (worldly), +_saoghalt_, _saogh’lt_; participles of verbs, such as _riarachadh_ +(satisfying), _riarach’_, or _riar’chadh_; the verb to be, _is maith_ (it +is good), _’s maith_; _bithidh_ (will, or shall be), _bi’dh_; _bithibh_ +(be ye), _bi’bh_; _bi thusa_ (be thou), _bi’-sa_. But what makes the +Gaelic so superior to the English, is, not merely that it is capable of +more contractions, but as the vowels are more distinctly sounded and the +consonants less so, we are satisfied if we get the vowels to rhyme; but +that will not do in the English, the consonants must rhyme also. The +vowels in the Gaelic have only the two sounds, the short and the long, +and are pronounced as in the broad Scotch. We have several sounds which +are not in the English at all, sounds formed by the union of two and +even three vowels, which are the most melodious in the language. Union +of two vowels—_ao_, _gaol_, _saor_ (love, free); _ia_, _grian_, _srian_ +(sun, bridle); _ei_, _greine_, _srein_ (the genitive of sun, bridle); +_eu_, _speur_, _neul_ (sky, cloud); _ua_, _fuachd_, _shuas_ (cold, up); +_ai_, _baigh_, _traigh_ (kindness, seashore); _io_, _fior_, _dion_ (true, +protection); _eo cleoc reota_, (a cloak frozen). The union of three +vowels, the sweetest sounds in the language—_aoi_, _aoibhneas_ (joy); +_uai_, _buaidh_ (victory). Besides these, there are many words where +_eu_ may be changed into _ia_, as _feur_, _geur_, _neul_ (grass, sharp, +cloud), _fiar_, _giar_, _nial_. The former is the standard Gaelic, but +the latter is more common in the west and north. + +To translate lyric poetry from English into Gaelic is comparatively +easy, but to translate it into English is not only more difficult, but +we have many pieces which cannot be translated at all so as to rhyme. +Let any person compare our metrical version of the Psalms of David with +the English, and he cannot but see how superior it is; and even the +paraphrases, although originally composed in English, the Gaelic not only +comes up to it, but actually surpasses it in many places. In the English, +in common metre, the last syllable of the second and fourth line only +rhyme, whereas frequently in the Gaelic the last syllable of the first, +and the fourth of the second rhyme. + + “C’arson a struidheas sibh ’ur maoin + Air nithibh faoin nach biadh; + ’S a chailleas sibh ’ur saoth’ir gach la, + Mu ni nach sasuich miann?” + +How smoothly and sweetly does that rhyme flow compared with the English. +I have seen a book called the _Highland Bards_, translated by a great +scholar, and although done as well as possible in a translation, yet +every one who knows Gaelic cannot fail to see how far short it comes of +the strength and beauty of the original. No man, however great, can do an +impossibility. I have also seen translations of Dugald Buchanan’s Poems, +and these by men who were greater scholars than himself; and on looking +at them, I saw as great a change between them and the original as if I +had seen Dugald himself when in his prime, and again at seventy, when it +would be all I could do to recognise his features, but O how changed! +Taking his poem on the day of judgment, I defy the English language to +produce its equal as a piece of lyric poetry. In the language there is +scarcely a single word coined from another language, perhaps a few from +the broad Scotch that came to be naturalized—all the language of his +native country, extraordinary for its simplicity and expressiveness. The +rhyme of that poem is smooth, it is perfect. I have attempted, or should +rather say, I have endeavoured to improve what others attempted, and the +best I could make of some of the verses I give in the following:— + + My worldly thoughts, O God inspire, + And touch my lyre that it may play, + That I may put in solemn rhyme + Thy most sublime and awful day. + + O! listen all ye sons of men, + This world’s last end is come to pass, + Start all ye dead to life again, + The great Amen has come at last. + + The sun, great majesty of lights, + To his great brightness shall succumb, + The shining radiance of his face, + His light with haste shall overcome. + + Was it enough that nature’s sun + Aghast did shun the deed to see, + Why did not the creation die + When Christ expired upon the tree? + +These are equally strong, and rhyme well, but where is the melody +compared with the Gaelic, and it is most extraordinary that I cannot sing +them without feeling that I am puffed up with the language, whereas in +the Gaelic I have no such feelings. The English will never come up to the +following, sublime in their simplicity:— + + Mu mheadhon oidhch’ ’nuair bhios an saogh’l, + Air aomadh thairis ann an suain; + Grad dhuisgear suas an cinne daoin, + Le glaodh na trompaid ’s airde fuaim. + +Look at the rhyme how smooth and agreeable to the ear—the language how +simple and artless, the scene presented how solemn. We can scarcely +conceive of any thing more so, than the world having reclined over in +sleep’s soft repose, and then suddenly to be awakened with the trumpet’s +loudest sound. + +The English language completely fails in giving a proper translation; +being an artificial language, it disfigures almost every thing it handles. + + When the whole world in midnight’s lull, + In silent slumbering sleep is found, + Their rest shall quickly be disturb’d + By the last trumpet’s awful sound. + +The following are sublime:— + + Tha’m bogha frois muo’n cuairt d’a cheann; + Mar thuil nan gleann tha fuaim a ghuth, + Mar dhealanaich tha sealla ’shul, + A sputadh as na neulaibh tiugh. + +Not a single expression but what a herd lad, who was never at school, +could use, and yet how sublime. Put it into the hands of the mistress of +arts, and see how it will appear. + + The rainbow bright surrounds his head, + Like flood of glens his voice divine, + Like lightning flashes ’mid dark clouds + The astounding glances of his eyes. + +There it is pretty strong, but where is the melody so agreeable to the +ear? The English will never make it rhyme without divesting it of its +sublimity. + + Tha mile tairneanach ’na laimh + A chum a naimhdean sgrios a’m feirg, + ’S fonna-chrith orr gu dol an greim, + Mar choin air eill ri am na seilg. + +Try that again. + + A thousand thunders in his hand + At his command his foes to crush, + Shivering, eager to be engaged + Like hounds restrained by the leash. + +This is not so far amiss, only “crush” and “leash” as it regards the +vowels, do not rhyme. Look at the Gaelic—how simple; every word forged +and hammered on the anvil of a Highlander’s method of making his thoughts +known. Consider the sublimity of the passage. Dugald was not a classical, +but one of nature’s scholars, who had learned his lessons well, and +I am certain that in learning them he was not puffed up as they are, +but rather humbled. Thunder, one of the most awful agents conceivable. +When the thunder roars the earth keeps silence. A thunder held in the +hand—how sublime? A thousand thunders, a thousand times more so. How are +these thunders held? Like hounds restrained by the leash. Anything more +expressive could not come from the lips of man. A hound at first sight of +the game would almost choke himself at the first spring, if restrained. +Are these things so; and how perilous the condition of those who are +the enemies of the Great Judge? The air to which that poem is sung is +also most appropriate; so that in singing it, one never thinks either of +the language or the melody, any farther than that they are expressive; +but has his mind wholly occupied with the sublime, the awful, and the +beautiful imagery presented before it. I have heard that poem sung to a +crowded audience, and I have never listened to anything spoken or sung +that had a greater effect. Every eye fixed; all attention; awe, anxiety, +concern depicted on every countenance. And I can tell Ministers of the +Gospel all over the Highlands, that could they get two or three to sing +that poem properly to their congregations, that it would have a far +greater effect than most of their sermons. And I can tell them, moreover, +that that poem sung once had a more blessed effect than all my sermons +for a whole twelvemonth. + +There are three poems of M’Gregors composed to suit the air of an old +song, called “_Gaoir nam ban Muileach_” (The wail of the Mull women). +There are seven lines in the stanza, and the last is repeated twice. +In singing it it resembles the regular flow of a torrent, but when it +reaches the sixth line it comes to a climax as if the torrent had become +a beautiful waterfall. Or to use another simile. The first part of it +resembles the Atlantic waves as they roll majestically to the shore, +rolling and rolling along with a good deal of monotony till at length +they reach the climax, when they break forth with a tremendous crash like +rolling thunder. Were there a few individuals who could sing it together +till they reached the sixth line, and then the whole to unite with them, +there would be such singing as I have seldom listened to. + + Thaom e spiorad neo-ascaoin + Air a naoimh ’us air ’abstoil, + ’S rinn iad saighdearachd ghasda, + Mine, macanta ’n gaisge; + Cha do phill iad le masladh, + Ach troimh Chriosd a thug neart dhoibh, + Chuir iad cath gus ’n do chaisg iad an namhaid. + Chuir iad cath, &c. + +Perhaps some of my countrymen do not know what _neo-ascaoin_ means; +_caoin_ means kind; _ascaoin_, unkind; _neo-ascaoin_, the reverse, that +is great kindness. I will endeavour to give a translation as near as +possible. + + He poured his spirit most kindly + On his saints and apostles, + Who acted most soldierly, + Meekly and lowly in heroism, + Not turning disgracefully, + But through Christ that strengthened them + They fought till they routed the enemy. + +Although all the masons in the world were to go on hammering at the +English for a century, they could not make it rhyme like the Gaelic in +this verse. I have composed a considerable number of poems. I suppose, +when published together, they will form the largest collection in the +language. I attempted to translate two or three of them, but found +it impossible to do so by strictly following the rules of English +versification. I attempted to translate more, but found I could not +translate one verse to my satisfaction, and I wish that scholars would +understand this—that it is utterly impossible to give them anything like +a correct idea of our poetry, unless we are allowed to follow the Gaelic +rules of versification, and even with that licence we cannot come up to +it. I saw in a periodical a review of the lyric poetry of Wales, which +showed that it was impossible to give a proper expression of it in an +English translation. The same is equally true of the Gaelic. The strict +rules to which he is tied down who would attempt to compose English verse +prevent him from soaring like the eagle, and his productions must be +comparatively tame, and awanting in energy. + +Singing has a mighty power over the human mind, which the church to a +great extent has neglected, and a power which she never wields aright +but when in a revived state. I once went into a house; but the moment I +entered, the youngsters, some of them men and women, all fled. “See,” +said the mother, (a pious woman), “how they have all gone.” “Yes,” I +said, “but we’ll soon bring them back,” and so commenced to sing a +poem, not to the tunes of Martyrdom or Oldham (these would not bring +them back), but to the tune, “Whistle o’er the lave o’t,” and they all +returned immediately. + +How shrewd the remark, “Give me the songs of a nation, and I care not +who gives them laws.” It has been stated that the poems of the great +reformer, sung to the native melodies of Germany, had a greater effect in +promoting the Reformation than all his writings. I have heard melodies, +but any that come up to our native melodies, both Highland and Lowland, +I have not heard. If the songs of our country, many of them, have such a +bad effect, and the melodies so sweet and fascinating, why not regenerate +the song? By so doing the instrument would be wrested from the hands of +the enemy; the sword taken from the great Goliath to cut off his own +head, and to destroy the Philistines. In this respect we are in advance +of our neighbours; our songs to a considerable extent are regenerated +already. Dugald Buchanan’s Poems I place first, being superior to any +that has appeared yet, so far as poetry is concerned. Duncan M’Dougall, +a native of Mull, but ultimately residing in Tiree, has a considerable +number, I suppose, with the exception of Peter Grant, the largest +collection we have. His poems are good, most of them sung to the airs +most common in Tiree and Mull. Daniel Grant, a native of Strathspey, +but residing in Athol, comes next to M’Dougall in point of number, and +although he is not his superior either as a Gaelic scholar or as a poet, +he is his superior for conveying real spiritual instruction to the mind. +He has picked up some of the airs in Athol and Strathspey, and even +some from the low country. Donald Henry, I believe, a native of Arran, +has also left some very sweet poems, of which many are very fond. J. +Morrison, Harris, was an extraordinary genius. His language is superior +to Dugald Buchanan, and is not his inferior as a poet. He had more of the +language of the Highland bards that puffs up. Dugald had nothing of that, +but was powerful in his simplicity. The former resembles David clad in +Saul’s armour, the latter David with the sling and the stones. In singing +Morrison’s we cannot but think of the bard, but in singing Dugald’s +he is not thought of at all, and almost every word tells. Dr M’Donald +has left a considerable number of poems; some of them are elegies. He +was certainly the most powerful preacher in the Highlands in his time, +and anything said in his praise is superfluous, as it is all over the +Highlands. Yet it strikes me that he did not shine so much as a poet as +he did as a preacher. His poetry is certainly good, but there is nothing +extraordinary about it, as there is about his preaching. “The Christian +on the Banks of Jordan” is excellent, and very expressive; but there +are some pieces of his containing his own views of disputed points of +doctrine, with an evident intention to give a hit at those who differed +from him, which are not suitable for being sung in the praises of God. +Songs of praise should be for the whole church. No doubt he considered +those opposed to him as holding error, but they consider that he holds +error too, and how is the matter to be settled? Is it not possible to +hold the doctrine of election, and at the same time to hold that, in a +certain sense, Christ died for all men? Is it not possible to lay the +blame at the sinner’s door, where it shall be left at the last day, +without denying the necessity of Divine influence in his conversion? + +I come now to my great favourite, M’Gregor. Buchanan was his superior as +one of nature’s poets, and perhaps his superior in point of style. He +did not show so much of the scholar. The scholar seen in lyric poetry, +instead of adding to it, rather detracts from it. But, notwithstanding, +M’Gregor was his superior by far as a theologian for bringing varied and +important truths before the mind. I have seen many a book, but a book of +its size which contains more important truth I have never seen. Every +truth that is important for the Christian to know is systematically +laid down; every poem is like a well-composed discourse, the subject +experimentally handled in all its bearings; and all that in language +excellent, in versification perfect, and suited to be sung to some of +the most beautiful melodies of our country. I have never quarrelled with +a single idea, a single word, a single line. There is not a book in +existence, apart from the Bible, from which I have derived more benefit +to my soul. Every one knows what a hold a truth sung takes of the mind. +I am sorry for the tame manner in which these poems are recommended in +their introduction, as if Dr M’Gregor was nothing but a mere imitator of +the poets. How ridiculous! Did not these poets imitate those who went +before them, taking the measure of their verses from them. I am also +sorry to see some of his pieces sadly disfigured and maimed in the last +edition, especially his poem on the judgment. He must indeed have had a +very high opinion of himself, the man that would come after Dr M’Gregor +and endeavour to improve his versification. + +I come now to _Grant’s Poems_, which is the largest collection we have. +His melodies are delicious; and no wonder, they are from the land of +melody. The finest melodies in Scotland are called strathspeys. I believe +that _Grant’s Poems_ and the _Pilgrim’s Progress_ have done as much good +in the Highlands as any publications that have been circulated among +them, apart from the Bible. They are extraordinary for their simplicity. +There is not only milk for babes in abundance, but also strong meat +for men. His “Glory of the Lamb” is splendid, and his “Love Song” is +beautiful. Were these poems to pass through the hands of Archd. Sinclair, +printer, 62 Argyle Street, Glasgow, they would be greatly improved. He is +a good Gaelic scholar, and one of the best printers of that language in +Scotland. + +Let us now turn our attention to our neighbours. Is it to be credited +that, in the year of our Lord, 1868, Christian Scotland, the land of +creeds, bibles, ministers, churches, and Sabbath schools, has still +nothing to play on their instruments of music but the old unregenerate +songs of their country? They are so very orthodox, not only in their +creeds, but also in their language and melodies, that they would look +upon hymns composed in broad Scotch and sung to their native melodies +as a kind of heresy not to be tolerated. Scotsmen have generally as +much shrewdness, sagacity, and common sense as any people on the face +of the earth. To call such blockheads would be considered the greatest +falsehood that ever came from the lips of man. But consider what they +have done. They have renounced their own language, which is a natural +language, and the language of their nature, and their native melodies, +which are the melodies of their nature. They have turned their backs on +them. They have rejected their own; and what have they chosen in their +place? An artificial language and artificial melodies quite foreign to +their nature. Had Robert Burns as many hard consonants on his tongue as +an Englishman has, he never would have set his country in a _lowe_ with +his sweet melodies as he hath done. It has been remarked that England +has no national melodies. Is that to be wondered at? England has no +language for melody. The crows have no melody; and before they can have +any, they would require either to get another language, or to send up a +Scotchwoman amongst them to add her affectionate _ie_ to it, which would +give it beautiful melody. _Gira-ie_, which would sound something like our +_ghraidh_, the vocative of _gradh_ (love). + +Let any person say, “My wee bonnie lammie;” let him continue doing so, +placing the accent upon one word after another, and while he continues +doing so, a sweet melody proceeds from his lips, which is the melody of +nature, as if he held a tinkling bell in his hand. But let him say, “My +little pretty lamb,” and the melody ceases, as if he struck the bell flat +upon the table, and held nothing but a piece of cork in his hand. It is +true that the English may be covered over with a tinsel of artificial +melody, but what will be its effect? Will it affect the Scottish mind +like its native melodies? These have seized the Scottish heart; have +ingratiated themselves with the very feelings and nature of Scotsmen, +which makes them their own natural melodies as much as the melody of +larks and nightingales is their own. + +I heard two females, beautiful singers, singing some revival hymns, one +of them a very tame piece of lyric poetry; while singing it, they were +in raptures about it. Now, I am certain it was the bursts of artificial +melody that put them in raptures. It was the sound of their own voices, +and not what they were singing, that affected them. They were puffed up +with a puff of empty air, so that, in listening to them, I was led to put +the question, What is all that noise about? + +Now, I am convinced that were that masterpiece of lyric poetry, “Scots +wha hae,” with the child’s simplicity, but the giant’s grasp in seizing +the Scotch heart, to be sung to a regiment of Scotch warriors, or even +played on the Highland Bagpipe in approaching the front of battle’s +lower; the question, “What is all that noise about?” would be answered +by their daring feats in the field of strife. And I put it to the good +sense, and to the enlightened mind of Scottish Christianity—were there a +piece composed in broad Scotch, as much calculated to fire the soul of +the Christian warrior, as the other is calculated to fire the soul of the +Scottish warrior, and sung to the same tune, what would be its blessed +effect? Would it not put all their Anthems, their Old Hundreds, their +artificial, their drawling slow march melodies entirely into the shade? + +But our neighbours are so sensitive and have such fine and delicate +feelings, that the vulgarity of the broad Scotch, and the associations +connected with Scottish melodies, make them shrink back as the patient +would shrink back from the surgeon’s knife. I was in a place of worship +on one occasion, where a few individuals commenced to sing a Revival +Hymn to the air of “Annie Laurie;” a grave Deacon rose from his seat and +silenced them, stating that he could not bear the associations of that +tune. I declare “Annie Laurie” was the most beautiful singer I heard +amongst them; and as that was the first time I heard her voice, I would +like to hear it again. If I could I would pick it up, and do with it as +I have done with other pearls which as swine they are trampling under +their feet. The late Mr Campbell, Oban, who had a fine ear for music, had +a servant girl from Uist who was a beautiful singer; she was constantly +singing a love song she had learned. The sweet melody of the piece caught +the ear of the saint, and soon became his own; the words began to pour in +also, and what could he do? The air he could not hate, but how to keep it +without keeping the words along with it was the difficulty. He however +fell on a plan; he went into his study, took his pen and wrote down some +verses suited to the air. In his circumstances did he not do the best +thing he could do? Let our neighbours follow his example. Sounds take a +long time in coming. It is a long time since the sound was heard from +Rowland Hill’s lips—“What a pity that the devil should have the prettiest +tunes.” These words have at last found a response in the bosom of a +Highlander, which he returns as from the rocky mountains of his country, +saying—“The devil shall not have the prettiest tunes.” That again to +find a response in rocky Wales, louder and louder still—“The devil shall +not have the prettiest tunes,” and like the sound of thunder rolling and +rolling over the United Kingdom, finding a response in all Churches and +Chapels as it rolls along. + +Have we not our associations in the Highlands as well as they? Two of +the finest pieces we sing, Grant’s “Glory of the Lamb,” and M’Gregor’s +“Righteousness of Christ,” we sing to the air of that song which Duncan +Ban M’Intyre composed to his spouse (a piece of lyric poetry that the +English can never imitate), and in singing them we never think that +there was such a woman as Mhairi bhan òg in existence. The Scottish +people prove that they find a sweetness in their native melodies, which +they do not find in others. At their soirees do they not as it were cross +over their fences in search of them? How ridiculous at the soirees of +Christian Churches to hear “Scots wha hae,” “Ochone, Widow Machree,” and +such like pieces sung. What vulgar beings they are to be sure! + +I had a strong prejudice for the most part of my life against the broad +Scotch. I looked upon it as I would from an eminence look down upon a +number of tinkers and _donkeys_ below me. I saw a _Magazine_ several +years ago, which contained two pieces of poetry on opposite columns. +The one was composed with all the power of the mistress of arts in pure +English, and the other in the artless simplicity of the broad Scotch. The +title of the former, if I recollect well, was “The Houseless Children;” +that of the latter “There’s nae room for twa.” I read the former, and +it did not awaken a single emotion in my soul; I began to suspect I was +not scholar enough to comprehend it: the title was the most moving of +the whole. I read the other piece, and it almost set me a dancing, and +perhaps, had I only been twenty-five years of age, I would have risen up +and danced the Highland Fling. The piece gives an account of a Jamie, and +of a Katie, and a Janet who were in love with him. When crossing over +a very narrow bridge, Jamie said, “Janet must walk behind, there’s nae +room for twa.” Jamie’s words, “There’s nae room for twa,” went to Janet’s +heart. The result was that Katie was his bride, and while the sun shone +upon her, poor Janet was left under the dark clouds. She, however, began +to bethink herself, and said— + + I’ll gi’e to God my lingrin’ time, + And Jamie drive awa; + For in this weary heart o’ mine + There’s nae room for twa. + There’s nae room for twa, ye ken, + There’s nae room for twa; + The heart that’s giv’n to God and Heav’n, + Has nae room for twa. + +Can the English language produce such a piece of artless simplicity, so +natural, so touching, and so telling! No, never. The only fault that I +could find with it, is, that there is some of it broader than the broad +Scotch itself. I am not aware that “sheen” is ever used for “seen;” and I +am not sure that it is strictly true, that there is nae room for twa in +the grave to which we all must go. That’s a piece I would recommend to be +sung at soirees; it will sing nicely to the air, “There’s nae luck aboot +the house.” I was so delighted with the last verse, that I composed a +poem in Gaelic on the same subject, suited to the same air. + +Let us now bid _farewell_ to our neighbours, leaving them to bake their +own cakes the best way they can, and let us retrace our steps to the +land of our birth, and to the language of our nature; and in doing so, +let me put a question to those who would wish to do away with our native +language; can you supply us with a better language for our homes? I defy +you. Is there a language upon earth by which our youth can attain the +knowledge of God as the author of the great salvation, so readily and +with so little trouble and expense, as through the medium of their own +native Gaelic? What then shall we say to those parents and to those who +have the management of our Schools in the Highlands, who do not teach +our youth to read it and to understand it better? I have no hesitation +in declaring that they were guilty of a very great crime—of an act of +cruelty towards our youth, and of an act of rebellion against God. +If God has given a revelation to men, he has appointed the Gaelic to +the Highlanders, as the proper medium for obtaining the knowledge of +that revelation; and how dare men in their shallow wisdom act towards +Highlanders contrary to God’s appointed method of instructing them. The +great stumbling-block with ministers, schoolmasters, and proprietors +in the Highlands, is, that they do not consider the Gaelic genteel and +fashionable, and do not put themselves to the trouble of studying it. I +know no study that would repay better than the study of the Gaelic. It +is not such a dry, such a complicated affair at all as the study of the +English. In studying the Gaelic a man finds himself as among the living, +but in studying the English as among the dead. In studying the former +he finds himself as it were at home, in studying the latter as among +foreigners. The more I study the Gaelic, the more I admire it, and the +more am I astonished at the refined imagination which our forefathers +had. I have no fears of the Gaelic because it has God for its author. I +have no fears of it, because I believe that the spark is still alive in +my countrymen which can be kindled into a flame. + +When a boy, and at the end of our house (slated, substantially built, +two-storey high) and raising my voice, every word that I spoke was +repeated by the house. I had a younger brother, who was a great mimic, +and thought he was mocking me; so I turned about and addressed the +supposed brother: “If you’ll take my advice you’ll be quiet.” “If you’ll +take my advice you’ll be quiet,” instantly replied the mimicking brother. +“I tell you again to hold your tongue.” “I tell you again to hold your +tongue,” as quickly replied. “If you’ll not be quiet I’ll thrash you,” +was as quick as lightning repeated. So having spent all my threats, and +becoming more and more furious, the mimicking brother becoming equally +so, I had at last to desist, being fairly mastered; he on my top, in +spite of me. Now I am certain that were I to cry “Shame, shame,” or the +more expressive Gaelic, “_Mo naire, mo naire_” (my shame, my shame), it +would with equal distinctness be repeated by the house. So I would have +all the Highlanders, from John o’ Groat’s to the Mull of Kintyre, and +from Dunkeld to the Butt of Lewes and Cape Wrath, to raise their voices, +and, with the strength of their lungs, to cry out “_Mo naire, mo naire_,” +to those parents, those native proprietors, and those ministers and +schoolmasters who wish to do away with the Gaelic by not teaching them +to read it, so as to make all their castles, palaces, mansions, manses, +school-houses, and dwelling-houses to resound “_Mo naire, mo naire_,” +with such a terrific rattling noise as to startle the whole of them out +of their houses; and seeing them still standing, each to address the +troublesome noise, “_Mo naire_”—“If you’ll take my advice you’ll be +quiet.” “If you’ll take my advice you’ll be quiet,” quickly repeated. +“I tell you again to hold your tongue.” “I tell you again to hold your +tongue,” instantly repeated. “If you’ll not be quiet I’ll thrash you.” +“If you’ll not be quiet I’ll thrash you,” still repeated; and becoming +more and more furious, the mimicking something becoming equally so, one +and all of them be forced to give way, being fairly mastered, with the +hearty Highlanders on their top. + + +CATECHISM. + +A Catechism on the first principles of Divine teaching both by nature and +revelation:— + +Who are the two great teachers of mankind?—Nature and Revelation. + +Who is the author of both?—The great God. + +Is the teaching of both unerring or inspired?—Yes; because God is their +author. + +Is the teaching of both in anything opposed the one to the other?—In +nothing, and cannot be so, because they have the same God as their author. + +How ought the teaching of both to be received?—With an humble, teachable +disposition of mind. + +Does God teach the animal species?—Yes; he teaches them by putting what +is called natural instincts in them. + +Seeing that the human species have not only an animal body but also a +rational soul, how does God teach them?—He teaches them by nature and +revelation. + +How does God teach them by nature? He teaches them by nature, by putting +natural instincts in them, though not to the same extent as in animals. + +How does God teach them by revelation?—By putting spiritual instincts +in them. The unconverted have no spiritual instincts, are entirely +influenced by a depraved nature, under the power of sin and Satan. But +when God teaches them, he destroys the power of sin, puts spiritual +instincts in them; they get an unction from the Holy One. The spiritual +instincts of the converted differ as much from those of the unconverted +as the natural instincts of the sheep differ from those of the wolf. + +The same God who by instinct taught the ewe and the moor-hen to love +their young and to care for them; the same God by instinct has taught +the mother to love her child and to care for it. And as the same God +by instinct has taught the former a language to express their kindness +which by instinct their young can comprehend; so in like manner he +has taught a language to mothers to express their kindness, which the +instinct and ultimately the reason of their offspring can comprehend. +The native languages of the Highlands and Lowlands are as much the +languages of nature, of what nature taught them, as the bleating of sheep +or the lowing of cattle. God has given the best languages to beasts and +birds that could be given to them. The Gaelic (and I say the same of +the broad Scotch) is the best that could be given to Highlanders in all +the relations of life, and for keeping them a united, a happy, and a +contented people. Yes, and the best medium for conveying the knowledge +of God our Saviour to their minds. This, then, is the language which a +gracious God in great kindness gave unto them. + +But there is another great being—man—who frequently sets himself up in +opposition to the great God, as if he were wiser and disposed to be +kinder than what he is. He also must give a language of his own making, +which he has made up in a great measure from dead languages. He looks +upon his own language as greatly superior to theirs—more learned, more +refined, more respectable, and more genteel. Sets his extraordinary +machinery agoing, gets schools and schoolmasters established all over +the kingdom to teach, not one word of the languages which God taught the +people, but his own; gives prizes to his scholars, and rewards the best +of them by giving them honorary titles—Bachelor of Arts, and Master of +Arts, &c.—puffing them up to the very skies. Thus the artificial English +comes in direct opposition to the native languages of the country, +calling them vulgar. God their author might as well be called so. + +It comes and ingratiates itself with the pride and the vanity of the +higher class of society. They were too high before, but it gives them +their heart’s desire, it exalts them to the very clouds. It comes, and +instead of bringing a blessing in its train, brings a curse; instead of +regenerating, actually degenerates society. It found people united—the +rich and the poor, the high and the low—in a society of brotherhood, knit +together by the same language. The Highlanders by their Gaelic and the +Lowlanders by their broad Scotch, living together in mutual friendship, +the one looking upon the other’s language as that which the God of nature +taught them. But the great man comes with his pure English and snaps the +link in the chain asunder that united the rich and the poor, the high +and the low together—puts a complete separation between them—removes the +former from the common brotherhood, and exalting them as high above their +heads as if they were a race of foreigners and not of the same species +at all. There is your handiwork, proud man, who would be as gods. Those +who have received the language you have prepared for them are exalted, +many of them, above common mortals, as if they were gods. Yet they shall +die like men. Both parties are injured, but especially the Englified, +the genteel, and the fashionable. They are puffed up with pride—filled +with a vain conceit of their own superiority—their feelings of affection +are dried up, being so far removed from the commonality as to have no +sympathy with them. The others are injured also, being disheartened and +discouraged from a conviction and a feeling of shame arising from it, +that they are despised and treated with disrespect. This was not the case +in former times. I knew proprietors in my younger days who not only spoke +the Gaelic, but spoke it even better than the common people, and who, +when they spoke English, spoke it in broad Scotch. At that time they were +the men of the people, standing on a common level with them as regarded +the language, and entered into their feelings. But how is the case now? +All the answer that I will give to the question is, “God be merceful to +my countrymen when foreigners are their proprietors!” Who has produced +the melancholy change? Has it been brought about by God’s teaching, +either by nature or revelation? Not at all; it is the doing of vain man, +by introducing his artificial language. Is it not possible for men to +receive all the benefits from the English which it is calculated to give +without renouncing their own language and choosing it as the language of +society. + +Nature’s teaching and man’s teaching come contrary, the one to the +other, in another respect. Nature teaches a beautiful variety, but +the master of arts a dull uniformity. I have already referred to the +beautiful varieties of the Gaelic, as spoken in the different parts of +the Highlands. There is also the same variety in the different counties +where the broad Scotch is spoken; but the master of arts comes with his +artificial English, and with its rolling waves disfigures and spoils the +whole, and leaves nothing but his own dull uniformity on their ruins. I +believe that the time has come when God, as the great author of nature, +and consequently as the author of the native languages of Scotland, shall +say to the proud waves of man’s language, “Hitherto shalt thou come and +no farther,” and “Here shall thy proud waves be stayed.” May all hearty +Highlanders and all hearty Scotchmen say, “Amen, God grant it.” The great +man does not duly set himself against the great God by going to the +languages of nature and bringing a language out of them, which he sets up +in opposition to the native languages as better and more genteel, but he +must set himself up in opposition to Him likewise, as if he were wiser +than he, by going to the other fountain of God’s teaching, Revelation, +and bringing a creed and confession out of it, to be set up as the best +and the most fashionable, and brands as a heretic every man who would +differ from him. What do all the denominations of Christians attempt but +to bring a creed and a confession out of Revelation as a bond of union +and uniformity. But nature teaches a very different lesson. It teaches +union and not uniformity, but union and variety. It teaches it in the +human countenance, the human race, in trees and plants, four-footed clean +animals, clean birds; in the Gaelic, broad Scotch, and, I am sure, in +the French. Revelation teaches the same—a Trinity in unity. The bond +of union amongst Highlanders is their Gaelic, and still there is no +uniformity, but a beautiful variety. The bond of union amongst Christians +is their Christianity. Christianity cannot exist without Christians. +Christian union cannot exist amongst men without Christianity, and a +real unity cannot exist amongst Christians without a glorious variety. +This lesson nature teaches with perfect inspiration. Let Christians then +treat Christianity as Highlanders treat the Gaelic. Let them follow their +own views of it conscientiously and allow others to do the same, without +attempting to set up their views as a confession of faith to others. Let +the people of God then separate themselves from the unconverted world, +and let this principle of nature’s Divine teaching be admitted by them, +namely, unity and a glorious variety—unity as it regards the great +essentials of Christianity, and variety as it regards the non-essentials. +In that way, and in that way alone, shall they be properly united; in +that way alone shall they enjoy one another, and, instead of living in +the cold, narrow cell of sectarian selfishness, they will live in the +expansive, the benign, the benevolent region of a glorious variety, and +their minor differences, instead of detracting from, will actually add to +the pleasure, the harmony, and the happiness of the whole. + +There is a text which I would give to all the ministers in Scotland +as the subject of their discourse on the first Sabbath of January, +1869—“Doth not nature itself teach you.”—_1 Cor._ xi., 14. + +I am convinced that the teaching of nature has not been attended to as +it ought. A person properly influenced by it, and humbly receiving its +teaching, is conscious that he is under the guidance of a safe teacher. +I will give one instance of nature’s teaching. I have two grandchildren +in my house, a boy and a girl, about four years of age, who are very fond +of their grandpapa, so fond that they wish to be oftener with him than +he considers desirable. Should he only request them to go out in the +usual way, they only laugh at him. If he rises to put them out, they run +under the table like kittens. When he is on the one side they are on the +other, where his hand cannot reach them. He then has to take the strap +and threaten them severely and, even when putting them out with that +severity, they put their backs to the door to prevent him from shutting +it, and sometimes weep bitterly, which is very painful to his feelings. +Nature, however, has taught him a different lesson: to speak kindly to +them in a low tone of voice, and instantly they go out quite happy, and +even saying, “Put the snib on the door, grandpapa.” + + +THE GAELIC BANNER. + +BRATACH NA GAELIC. + + ’S gu’m b’éibhinn, gu’m b’éibhinn, + Gu’m b’éibhinn a’ Bhrataich i, + ’S gu’n leumainn, gu’n leumainn, + Gu’m leumainn le h-aiteas rith: + Teannaibh dlùth le aon rùn,— + Teannaibh dlùth gu cabhagach, + Cuiribh ’n àird i ’s gach àit + Biodh gu h-aluinn ’crathadh i, + ’S aig éigheach, aig éigheach, + Aig éigheach gur maireann i. + ’S gur spéiseil, gur spéiseil, + Gur spéiseil ri labhairt i! + ’S gibht o Dhia i gach ial + Chaoidh nan cian cha dealaich rith? + Fhuair i àit ann ar gràdh, + Tha ri ’r nàdur ceangailte, + ’S cha tréig sinn, cha tréig sinn, + Cha tréig sinn ’n ar n-anam i; + ’S cha ghéill sinn, cha ghéill sinn, + Cha ghéill sinn, do’n t-Shasunnach, + + An e so seana Chabair-féidh? + + Cumaibh suas a’ Ghàelic ghrinn + Ann ’ur srathaibh ’us ur glinn; + Deanaibh ’teagasg do ur cloinn, + ’S na cuireadh Goill fo’n casan i. + + Labhraibh i gu sgairteal dàn + Gun aon rugh ’n ’ur gruaidh le nàir; + Anns a’ bhaile ’s air an t-sràid, + Ged bhiodh e làn do Shasunnach. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Cainnt na h-aoigheachd ’us na fàilt, + Cainnt a’ chaoimhneis ’us a’ ghràidh, + A bheir aoibhneas ’s gean gu fàs, + ’S a chuireas blàth’s ’n ’ur n-aignidhean. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Cha b’ionnan i ’s Bhanshas’nnach mhòr + ’Rinn àrd sgoileirean na h-Oigh, + Le Gréigis thioram, ’s Laidionn reòt, + ’S ann chuir iad còmhdach’ sneachdaidh oirr. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Cha’n’eil i tioram, [2]crainntidh, fuar, + Mar bhean mhòr-chuiseach na h’uaill, + Mu bhios sibh pòsda ri bidh truagh, + ’Us ni le fuachd ’ur [3]meileachadh + + ’S dh’ fheumadh pige dh’ uisge sgàld, + A chuir fo bhonn ’ur cos ’se làn, + ’S còmhdach tlàth o’r ceann gu’r sàil + Mu’m blàthaich sibh ’san leaba leth. + + Cha b’ionann i ’s a’ [4]chruinneag chòir, + Nighinn a’ Ghàel ’s a’ cridh a’ teòth, + Tha innte blàth’s ’us tlus gu leoir, + ’S i gun mhòrchuis ceangailt rith. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + A bhan-[5]Ephiteach ’s a’ bhan-tràill + Na gabhaibh steach an caidreamh blàth, + Na bean-taigh’ na biodh gu bràth, + Biodh i ghnàth ’na ban-oglaich. + + Cumaibh i ri obair chruaidh, + Biodh i mach ri am an fhuachd, + (Ged tha i làn do ’n stràichd ’s do ’n uaill); + Oir tha [6]ghruagach cleachdta ris. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Tha ’feachd ’sa h-armailt ri dian strì, + Gach bochd ’us beairteach thoirt fo ’cìs, + ’S a cuir ’n a suidhe mar bhanrìgh, + Anns an tìr mar [7]Ealasaid. + + Ach fhad ’s a bhios an fhuil gu blàth, + ’Ruith ann an cuislibh nan Gàel, + Cha dean iad strìochdadh dhi gu bràth + Ged ni sgàin ’s a chraicionn i. + + Cha cheadaich iad d’am [8]Màiri ghrinn, + Mhàlda, bhanail, cheolmhòr bhinn, + Bhi gun tròcair call a cinn + Leis a’ mhilltear Shasunnach. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Am maighstir-sgoile anns gach àit + Deanaibh ghrad chuairteachadh gun dàil, + ’S abraibh ris gu daingean, dàn’, + “Cha leig ’ur cànain seachad sinn!” + + “’S dean thusa ’teagasg do ar cloinn, + A chum ’s gu ’n leugh iad i le sgoinn, + ’S nach bi iad uimpe mar na doill + ’Us na Goill ri fanaid orr’. + + “’Us àill leinn thu dhoibh theagasg beurl, + A chum ’s gu ’n tuig iad i ’s gu ’n leugh, + Ach do ’n Ghàelic thug sinn spéis, + ’S thoir-sa éisdeachd ealamh dhuinn.” + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + ’S gach neach ’n ur measg a chi ’ur sùil + ’Us earball peacaig air a chùl, + ’Le uaill ’s le mòr-chuis a chion-tùir + A’ diùltadh bhi ga labhairt ruibh. + + Labhraibh ris gun mhodh gu grad, + Abraibh ris gun sgeig, gun mhag’; + Tha sinne ’faicinn mach troimh t’aid’ + Cluasan fad na h-asail ort! + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Tha Goill ’us Sas’nnaich tigh’nn ’nam brùchd + A nios le carbadan ’n a smùid, + ’S ni iad a fògradh as an dùth’ch + Mar grad dhùisg na h-Athalaich’. + + Dùisgibh, dùisgibh, ’luchd mo ghaoil, + Seasaibh le dùrachd air a taobh, + ’Bratach gu sùrdail deanaibh sgaoil, + A chum ’s a ghaoth gun crathadh i. + + ’S na bodaich dhubh ’n taobh thall [9]Lochbraon, + Abraibh riu le h-iolaich glaoidh, + Nach ’eil sibh uile gabhail nàir, + ’S gu’n d’fhàg sinn n’ ur [10]cadal sibh? + + Nach ’eil fo nàir sibh thaobh ’ur dùth’ch’, + Ris a bhan Ghàel bhi cuir ’ur cùl, + ’S mar na tràillean lub ’ur glùn + ’S toirt ùmhlachd do ’n bhan Shasunnaich! + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Gach creag ’us coire, stùchd ’us càrn, + Gach lag ’us cnochd, ’us slios, ’us learg, + Gach glaic ’us tullaich, eas ’us allt, + Tha ’labhairt cainnt ar n-athraichean, + + Tha guth ri chluiantinn o gach fonn,— + Gach dail, ’us bail’, ’us dùn, ’us tòm,— + Gach beinn, ’us coill, ’us leachduinn lòm + Tha gu pongail ’labhairt iad. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + Nach ro mhuladach an sgeul, + Ma bhios ’ur gincil thig ’n-’ur déigh + Gun aon smid dhi ann am beul, + Ach i gu lèir mar Laidionn doibh. + + [11]Dal-an-amair an Gleann Ile? + Cha tuig aon anam tha ’s an tìr + An [12]t-alltan _burn_ rinn iad na bhurn; + Ach ’n a bhurn ’us cabhbaig air. + Cumaibh suas, &c. + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +[1] Not published yet. + +[2] Parching. + +[3] Chill. + +[4] A tidy young woman. + +[5] The Egyptian Hagar was a foreigner, not a free-born; so is the +English not to be permitted to assume authority, but to keep her own +place as a slave, and not as the mistress. + +[6] A word taken from _gruag_ (hair), and given to females on account of +the long hair which they wear, and means a young woman, also a household +goddess, and is often used in irony, as here. + +[7] Elizabeth, the Queen of England. + +[8] Mary, a name given to the Gaelic, which was the name of the Queen of +the Scots whom Elizabeth beheaded. + +[9] A loch between Athole and Strathardle. + +[10] The Atholites used to provoke the Ardleites with a tune which they +played on the bagpipes when leaving them—_Bodaich dhubh Sratharduil, gu’n +d’fhag sinn nan cadal iad_—The black churls of Strathardle we have left +them asleep. In the Free Church of Kirkmichael, Strathardle, there has +been no Gaelic preached for several years, and it is going and almost +gone in the Established Church. I wish with all my heart that a company +of the Atholites would cross over with a piper at their head, and play +the following on the street of Kirkmichael:— + + Bodaich dhubh Srathàrduil, + Cha Ghàel iad ach Sasannuich, + Thréig iad mar na tràillean + Cainnte bhlath an athraichean. + +And that they on their part would play the following:— + + Tosdaibh, bithibh sàmhach + Cha n’ àill leinn sibh bhi magadh oirnn, + Bheir ar crìdh do n’ Ghàelic, + ’Sa chaoidh gu bràth cha dealaich ri. + ’S ’n uair thig rìs do ar tìr + Le ceòl pìob ’us cridhcalas, + Aran grinn, ’s còmhdach’ ìm’ + Agus cīr-mheala leis + Gheibh sibh uainn gu càirdeal + A shàsachadh ’ur stamagan, + ’Us seinnibh do na Ghaelic + Na h’-Ardlich ’s na h’-Athalich. + Nuair bhios Goill mar na doill + ’Us an oidhch a’ luidhe orr, + Gu ro thruagh, crith gu luath, + ’Us le fuachd ’g am meileachadh, + Bidh sinne air ar blàth’chadh, + ’Sa Ghàelic ’gar teasachadh, + ’Us caoimhneas, gean ’us càirdeas + Siòr fhàs ann ar n-anamaibh. + +Although my native country, I am quite ashamed of them. Is the +schoolmaster a Highlander? Was it he who wrote the inscription “_Mile +failte_” (a thousand welcomes) on the top of the arch on the occasion +of a certain gentleman up the country taking home his English bride? I +passed under it, and expressed my astonishment to see it, as the children +spoke nothing but English on the street. Is the spark still alive in his +soul? Is that spark capable of being enkindled into a flame? _A thraill! +Na’m bithinn ann ad ait, bheirinn oidhearp air mo chainnt-mhathaireil a +theasairginn, ged a bhiodh i mar an t-uan ann am fiaclan casgraidh an +leomhainn._ Ye slave! Were I in your place, I would endeavour to rescue +my mother-tongue, should it be like the lamb in the devouring teeth of +the lion. + +[11] A channel from a river to a mill, or a mill-dam. + +[12] _An t-alltan burn._ When the Gaelic was spoken in Glenisla, the +name of the stream was _an t-alltan_, the same as we would say in broad +Scotch, the burnie, that is the small stream. But when the Gaelic ceased +to be spoken, and the broad Scotch came in its place, they called it an +t-alltan-burn. Now burn is taken from the Gaelic word _burn_, which means +water, as the word whisky is taken from _uisge_ (water), also. In singing +this poem, where two, or three, or four verses are following one another +without the chorus, let them be sung to the same key. It will sing to the +air of “_Och nan och, ’us och mo leon!_” + + +GLASGOW: PRINTED BY WILLIAM GILCHRIST, HOWARD STREET. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75337 *** |