Scotland has indeed been blessed by the possession of poets and bards who have preserved her annals and sung the deeds of her patriot heroes in so alluring a form, that her sons and daughters are assured of a welcome in any part of the world, and start with the great asset of being always expected to "make good" in every land of their adoption. Wherever they may roam, we find them occupying positions of influence, and still cherishing and promulgating the traditions and customs of the Land of the Heather, which impel to high thinking, resolute doing, and the upholding of old standards, such as build up the lives both of individuals and of nations. And thus, when the moment of emergency arrives when "to every man and nation comes the moment to decide" you will find the men and women of Scottish descent to the forefront in every fight for liberty and righteousness in every part of the globe. And in the midst of the clash and din of arms you will catch ever and anon the sound of the up-lifting cadence of some grand old Scottish Psalm tune, bringing comfort, and courage, and clam,--and then the call of the Pipes, inspiring war-worn troops to accomplish impossible tasks, such as the feats which have made the Gordon Highlanders and their Pipers immortal--as at Dargai, and have brought fresh glory to many a Scottish Regiment in this great war--aye, and to many a regiment of brother Gaels from Ireland also, of whose exploits we have heard as they rushed into the fray, preceded by their Irish War-Pipes. A few weeks ago, a young widow with her two months' old baby in her arms, was following the remains of her husband to his warrior's grave "somewhere in France." She was dry-eyed and rebellious in her youthful despair, as she walked at the head of the sad little procession of her husband's comrades;--and then the party met a Highland Pipe Band, whose Pipe-Major, quick to understand the situation, halted his men, wheeled them round, and gave the signal to play the lovely Lament: "Lochaber no more!" At the sound of the familiar strains the founts of sorrow were unsealed, and weeping, but comforted, the child-wife mother was able to commit her dead hero's dust to the grave in sure and certain confidence of a glorious re-union, and turned to face life again with his little son, with strength and faith renewed. This is but a little incident, but it illustrates the hold that the music of the Gael has on the hearts of its children, and of its power to evoke memories and associations full of inspiration both in joy and in sorrow. AND IS NOT THIS THE INTERPERTATION OF THE SPELL OF THE "KILTIES"? [signed] Lady Aberdeen and Temain Sherston's Wedding Eve