r exiled and dear"[43] in her pedigree shine.

Then hearken, ye men of the country I love!
Despair not, unsmooth though the course of your love,
Ere ye yield to your sorrow or die in your folly,
May ye find, like the Brunach, another Dunolly.

FOOTNOTES:

[40] Brunach--The Brown, viz., the poet himself.

[41] The Macdougalls of Dunolly claim descent from the Scoto-Irish kings
who reigned in Dunstaffnage.

[42] Supposed to be the first of our Christian kings.

[43] Prince Charles Edward.

CHARLES STEWART, D.D.

The Rev. Dr Stewart was born at Appin, Argyllshire, in 1751. His mother
was a daughter of Edmonstone of Cambuswallace, the representative of an
old and distinguished family in the counties of Perth and Stirling; and
his father was brother of Stewart of Invernachoil, who was actively
engaged in the cause of Prince Charles Edward, and has been
distinguished in the romance of Waverley as the Baron of Bradwardine.
This daring Argyllshire chief, whom Scott represents as being fed in the
cave by "Davie Gellatly," was actually tended in such a place of
concealment by his own daughter, a child about ten years old.

On receiving license, Dr Stewart soon attained popularity as a preacher.
In 1779, being in his twenty-eighth year, he was ordained to the
pastoral charge of the parish of Strachur, Argyllshire. He died in the
manse of Strachur on the 24th of May 1826, in the seventy-fifth year of
his age, and the forty-seventh of his ministry. A tombstone was erected
to his memory in the parochial burying-ground, by the members of the
kirk-session. Possessed of superior talents, a vast fund of humour, and
a delightful store of traditional information, he was much cherished by
a wide circle of admiring friends. Faithful in the discharge of the
public duties of his office, he was distinguished among his parishioners
for his private amenities and acts of benevolence. He was the author
only of one song, but this has attained much favour among the Gael.

LUINEAG--A LOVE CAROL.

No homeward scene near me,
No comrade to cheer me,
I cling to my dearie,
And sigh till I marry.
Sing ever O, and ra-ill O,
Ra-ill O,
Sing ever O, and ra-ill O,
Was ever a May like my fairy?

My youth with the stranger,[44]
Next on mountains a ranger,
I pass'd--but no change, here,
Will sever from Mary.

What ringlets discover