The following is a very imaginative piece, descriptive of a flighty individual who proposes to do more than he can accomplish:-- Cheann a'n Tobermhuire Head in Tobermory, 'S a chollainn 's a Chrianan, Body in Crianan, Cas a'm Boad hoi-e, Foot in Boad (Bute) hoi-e, 'S a chas eil a'n Grianaig Other foot in Grianaig (Greenock). It is a most melancholy fact, that at present there is a combined and a determined effort put forth to banish the native language, and the native melodies of the Gael entirely from the country, and to bring the whole population under the sway of the artificial language taught in our schools, and of its artificial melodies. The foreigner represents our language as low and vulgar, quite destitute of the sterling qualities peculiar to his own; and consequently not deserving either to be held fast, or to be worthy of attentive study. And in order that he may be the more successful in his effort, he pretends to be our greatest, our only friend; heartily disposed to make us learned, wealthy and honourable, yes, and, of course, pious too. I say to him at once, without any ceremony, keep back, sir, give over your fallacious, your blustering bombast, we know the hollowness of your pretensions. The Gael has a language and melodies already, superior to any that you can give him, and would you attempt to rob him of his birthright and inheritance, which is dear to him as his heart's blood? Every true friend of the Gael would certainly give him a good English education; but instead of doing away with his own language and melodies, it would be such an English education as would ground him more than ever in a knowledge of his own. Is it not an acknowledged fact that, there is nothing that grounds students more thoroughly in a knowledge of a language than to translate it from his own. This mode of teaching is perhaps more troublesome to schoolmasters at first, but when once fairly tried and put in practice, it will, without doubt, be the most agreeable and the most successful part of their work, and would not have such a deadening effect, either upon their own minds, or upon those of their scholars. ARCHD. FARQUHARSON. ISLAND OF TIREE. THE HARP BRINGETH JOY UNTO ME. O autumn! to me thou art dearest, Thou bringest deep thoughts to me now, For the leaves in the forest are searest, And the foliage falls from each bough. And then as the day was declining, While nature was wont to repose, A sage on his harp was reclining Who sang of Lochaber's bravoes. He played and he sang of their glory, Their deeds which the ages admire; Then softly, then wildly, their story He told on the strings of his lyre. While praise on the heroes he lavished, And lauded their triumphs again, A maid came a-list'ning, enravished-- Enrapt by his charming refrain.