and finds in them the congenial themes on which he enthusiastically lavishes the rich poetic gifts with which he was endowed. Livingston published his first volume of poetry in 1858. A smaller volume followed a few years afterwards, in 1865; and in 1868 a few poems in pamphlet form, one of them being a prize production—being the third piece for which he received a prize from the Glasgow Celtic Society. The year before his death he began to arrange his poems with a view to publishing them all in one volume, but before he transcribed more than half a dozen of them his pen was arrested by an invisible Power. “Death’s subtle seed within, Sly treacherous miner! working in the dark Smiled at the well-concerted scheme.” I well remember how the old bard, with his magnificent beard, which he often stroked with evident admiration, and which seemed to be growing up to his very eyes—small piercing eyes that scanned the neighbours suspiciously—emphasised the hope that when the proposed volume would appear, it would contain fully as much first-class poetry as the works of either of the three Gaelic modern bards, Mackay, Macintyre, or Macdonald. It is pleasant to know that the work which the bard had so much at heart has been accomplished under the auspices of the Islay Association, mainly at the suggestion and with the assistance of a patriotic countryman—Mr Colin Hay—who is a great admirer of Livingston’s poetry. The longest of Livingston’s poems is a dramatic piece entitled _The Danes in Islay_. It is the only proper dramatic poem in the language. The subject is one that the poet could take up with much enthusiasm, as he pictured to himself the Norse army in a fleet of sixty-three sail entering the spacious Lochindaul, and dropping anchor there with no friendly intent. The bard’s historical and antiquarian knowledge stood him here in good stead. The great Macdonald, Prince of the Isles, is the central figure, and next to him the aged but faithful Mackay of Rhinns, both of whom are immediately informed by their watchful scouts of the advent of those hereditary foes, the Norse invaders, on the green shores of Islay, which was once in their own possession. The fiery cross is sent all over the island to call together the brave subjects of the Macdonald to defend their homes and hearths. A battle takes place; and in the final struggle there are many heroes who do great and incredible deeds, chief among whom are—Nuagan Mor, a Norse prince; Raosbun, Gilleathain Thora, and Donncha Mor Laorain. Though this is one of the most ambitious of Livingston’s productions, yet it is not equal as a whole, and not so finished, nor of so high an order as, for example, his prize poems; but the lyrical portions of it are very fine, the marching song of Mackay of Rhinns, to the tune of _Mnathan a’ Ghlinne so_, being quite a gem. Here are some verses of a war chant which occurs in the poem.