'Nuair bha e 'na bhalach A laddie so merry Gu sunndach, 's lan aighear, 'Mong green grass and heather, 'S mac-talla 'ga aithris The voice of the echo A cantuinn nan oran, Rehearsing his story: Toirt air na cruaidh chreagan, The mountains so rocky Le 'n teangannan sgeigeil, To mimic and mock him, Gu fileant 'ga fhreagradh, Becoming all vocal Gu ceileireach ceolmhor. Like songsters so joyful. About the age of twenty a change came over me, when I forsook the songs, but not their melodies, and had recourse to Buchanan's, M'Gregor's, and Grant's hymns as a source of gratification. I was, in a measure, prepared to enjoy them, as I found several of the melodies I used to sing, in the hymns. M'Gregor was my great favourite. He was every inch a man, a Gael, a scholar, a poet, a Christian, and a great divine. I regret that his hymns are not more extensively known. Forty-two years ago I composed several hymns--six or seven years afterwards a few more--but during the last ten years, I suppose, nearly fifty. I have done as much as I could to regenerate the songs of my country. My predecessors carefully avoided cheerful and lively airs, especially those with a chorus, but I find these generally, when the subject is applicable to them, the most powerful and the most appropriate for use in connection with the preaching of the gospel. Last summer I sang one of them in a Free Church, on a Sabbath evening, to the Gaelic part of the congregation. As I was descending from the pulpit, the Gaelic precentor, and a deacon, whispered in my ears, "_Tha i sin fad air thoiseach air laoidhean Shanci_." (That is far before Sankey's hymns.)