with renewed appreciation, and that no minister or elder will dare to wrest from the people the songs that were sung by those whom God had gifted specially to make the world wiser and better. God who gave the proud flash of the eye to the eagle, who gave his gay feathers to the peacock, his thrilling song to the lark, and even his spots to the tiger, rejoices in beauty; and, verily, if His eye rejoices in loveliness of the outward form-in the red of the rose, and in the scarlet of the poppy-He must also rejoice in the beautiful thoughts that make the soul blossom in freshness like a well-watered garden; and people might as well turn the garden into a desert as wrest by fanatic and ignorant hands from the hearts of men the loveliness and gladness of which God made them full-which made them tender and sympathetic, and filled their souls with a chivalrous love for heroic deeds, that made them emulate the bravery of former generations, and made them patriotic and virtuous. On the same date (the 25th March 1885) Mr Alexander Macdonald, audit office, Highland Railway, Inverness, read a paper on Celtic Poetry. We summarise it as follows: CELTIC POETRY. : Celtic poetry includes the poetry of Britanny, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland, but in this paper Gaelic poetry is taken as representative of the rest; the other countries, however, are occasionally referred to for illustration, confirmation, or addition. Poetry took literary shape before prose, for the simple reason that rhythmic language is almost necessary for the memory; and the memory was the only repository of literature in barbaric and savage times, before writing was invented. The Celts of ancient times were especially fond of poets; the classical writers continually refer to the bards that attended the chiefs and appeared at the feasts. And, if we may trust old Irish history, the poets were the most important class of men in the State; their privileges were extraordinary; they had right of hospitality from every person and the right of exacting gifts; they were themselves, on the other hand, divided into grades said to have been seven, and the highest poet had to know and recite, if called on, 350 tales or poems, the next, 175, and so on to the 7th, who recited 30 tales or poems. Some authorities give 10 or 11 grades. We know from Cæsar that the Druids taught poetry to their pupils, and probably embodied their doctrines in poetic form, which, as they did not commit them to writing, would facilitate remembrance. We know, too, that the poets used to appear in battle, inciting their own side and hurling taunts and detraction at their foes. So powerful, indeed, was their influence that they could even stop the combatants when drawn up and ready for fight: "So," says the old writer who records this, "among the wildest barbarians passion yields to art and philosophy, and Mars reveres the Muses." For ease of reference and for perspicuity's sake, we shall consider the subject of Gaelic poetry under the following heads :The antiquity of Gaelic poetry; its heorism; its patriotism; its love; its power of description; and, lastly, its poetic value. Much dispute has existed as to the antiquity of Gaelic poetry, and, indeed, all Celtic poetry that now exists. The Welsh claimed for their Triads and their Four Books of Wales, an antiquity that dates as far back as the 6th century. Indeed, Mr Skene thinks they actually were composed about that time, and handed on traditionally until the 12th to the 15th century, when they were written down. But, unfortunately for all such theories, their language is very modern; in fact, it is the language of the time at which they were written down, say the 13th and 14th centuries; and, again, their historical elements are too vague, legendary, and mythical to argue upon their intrinsic antiquity. The very same criticism applies to Irish literature; its earlist MS. is of the 10th or 11th century, say about 1100, and though the language does point to a century or two older for some pieces, yet little can be claimed with any degree of probability or regard to scientific accuracy, as older than the 9th century. Scotland is even worse off; passing over the Book of Deer in the 12th century, as of little literary though great linguistic importance, we come first to the Book of the Dean of Lismore, written about 1512. It contains poetry of two classes the heroic and the contemporary. The contemporary poetry is of the ordinary mixed kind-elegiac, erotic, philosophic, religious, and, as is usual among the Gaels, genealogical or clannish. The heroic pieces deal with legendary and mythic characters, mostly the Féine. Some of them purport to be by contemporary authors, doubtless working in the old quarries of Fenian romance; but many are attributed to Ossian and several other Ossianic heroes. Prof. Windisch has shown the value of this reputed authorship of Ossian by a comparison with the older Irish tales and poems. In these tales or poems are introduced, after some narrative or descriptive passage, the char acters as reciting their opinions in poetry. It is the dramatic and narrative forms combined, but it is not for a moment implied that Cuchullin, Conchobar, Fergus, Finn, Ossian, Oscar, or the others were poets, but only that they said or sung the piece that followed. In the Dean's book Ossian and the others are actually named as the authors, not the sayers, reciters, or singers merely of the pieces. Then as to the character of these Ossianic ballads contained in the Dean's book; most of them are common to Ireland and Scotland, and belong clearly to the 13th on to the 16th centuries, but not later. The language in every case is Middle Gaelic; they are often in a Christian setting-Ossian and St Patrick speaking; and they are always apart from the prose narrative, which ought to include them. It is not safe to postulate any great antiquity for them; five or six hundred years must be their utmost age. As to Macpherson's Ossian, it is a thing by itself; it has no relation to any other Celtic poetry, ancient or modern, save to imitations of itself. In its love of natural scenery, it is Celtic; in its weird mythology and its historical references, it is Norse; in its vagueness and sentimentality, it is quite 18th centuryish and modern. The language is excellent, but it is very modern Gaelic. To sum up; we cannot claim any Celtic poetry to be much older than the MSS. on which they are written, for their language is of that date; hence little or no Celtic poetry can be traced back a thousand years, and the bulk of the older poetry is later than half that period. The second point to be discussed is the heroism in Gaelic poetry, which is, in fact, one of its most characteristic features. The poetry breathes a spirit of magnanimity which was but the reflection of the character inherent in the Celtic race. Their battles, their feasts, and their every-day life were all conducted on principles of Homeric heroism—" they were like the people in Homer's time," says Diodorus. If animosities were keen, if cruelty was not absent, yet friendship and tenderness were correspondingly intense. An act of dishonour was unknown. How changed are the times now! Their frequent single combats form a proof as to the magnanimity and generosity of their charactercombats in which any mean advantage was scorned. Scott caught the idea of the ancient Gael excellently in his Roderick Dhu. And the Fenian ballads, both those of genuine origin and those of Macpherson, breathe a spirit of heroism and old-world life and generosity that can only be compared to Homer and the early Greek heroes. Indeed, the Celts and Greeks were much alike of course they were descended from the same Aryan stock, but, all the same, they kept a wonderful similarity to each other in their ; separate existence and under widely different conditions. Both races were poetic and æsthetic; the Greeks were the originators of poetic form in ancient times, and the Celts gave the magic of rhyme to modern poetry. Our third point is the patriotism of Gaelic poetry. The Highlanders have a remarkable position among the nations—a mountaineer people deeply and passionately fond of their country. For it they were at all times prepared to sacrifice their allthemselves. Whether under their chiefs, inspirited by the chants of their bards and the strains of their music, or fighting for our general country of Britain, in regiments--"all plaided and plumed in tartan array "—where have they ever been known to turn their backs on the foe? The poetry is full of their patriotic feeling; their country, its institutions and its glory, are perennial themes, potent to inspire both bard and people. We need only refer to the last Rebellion as a proof of our position. The Highlanders clung to the old Stuart race with a passion, deep and abiding, and the mark which that struggle has left on the literature of the Gaels is correspondingly prominent, for a great part of Gaelic poetry and prose has Prince Charlie for its theme. Alexander Macdonald was in arms for the cause, and his most vigorous poems were written for it; while Duncan Ban, a soldier of the Crown at the time, was delighted to run his best in flight before his Highland kinsmen. He could even be a coward in appearance for his country's sake-possibly a higher pitch of self-sacrifice than any else. The history of Ireland presents another instance of Celtic patriotism. The struggle is also deeply imprinted on its literature. When Wales irrevocably lost its liberty, it turned to its ancient stores of literature, and lived over again in imagination the Homeric times of King Arthur, "who is to come again, and thrice as fair." The beautiful Arthurian legends, which attracted Milton, and inspired Tennyson to produce in them his masterpieces, belong to the Bretonic branch of the Celts; they sprung up in Britanny and in Wales. From these countries they overran medieval Europe, and fired the songs of the troubadours and poets of both the Teutonic and Romance nations. Our next point deals with the love-songs of the Gael. Few nation in the world can boast of such tender and affecting productions on the subject of love; the Gaelic language seems here "to the manner born" made, like Anacreon, to sing of love alone. Their songs glow forth from their hearts, pure as the crystalcoloured waters that stream out from the mountainous recesses of their native country. At the shrine of this divine power, "Ge binn cuach 's ge binn smeorach, "'N uair a bhithinn-s' mo mhin-mhal' An gleannan riomhach na cuaich, 'Dh' aindeoin airdead an uaill." But we are |