But though I listened most attentively and tried hard to enjoy the weird, Bbrango music; bhou K h I reasoned with myself that the musical instiu rnent, which, was in use, with tho Greeks and Hebrews, which was once the rcpstpopularin all Europe, and is to-day hoard with pleasure in many countries must have some charm of its own, I could not honestly US-.™! 1 my eaf waa c^Ptiva^d. Keats has somewhere spoken of' music yearning like a god in pan,,' i tWnk such ft d9 | nltion

might be applied to the music of the bag pipes if the name of some of the lower animals was substituted for the divinity. To speak of the bagpipes « yearning like a cab in pain' would to my mind convey a pretty correct description of the music of that instrument. Bub, although I cannot tutor my ear to take delight in the music, I haye no prejudice against the instrument itself. Ido hob regard ib, as one of our •worthy citizens did, on the occasion of the Governor's arrival, as a dangerous instru ment likely to stir up rebellion and civil war. I can understand quite perfectly the charm it may have for a pabriobic Scobchman. Thab charm, as I taka it, lies nob so much in the music it self as in^ the associations ib calls up. Like the Swiss, who, when fur away from his native country, is thrilled by the notes of the mountain horn, and in fancy ' his Alps aud all before him come,' so bo bhe expatriated Scotchman the rudo sound of the bagpipes conjures up the vision of his early home, the burn 'he paddled in,' ' the braes he ran aboot,' the friends now separated from him by oceans and all the memories of auld lang syne. It i 3 not the one piper that he sees before him nor the music of the one instrument which he hears; it is ' the gathering pipe of Lochnagar,' that his rapt ear i 3 listening to, and the vision that stirs his inmost soul is one that his English neighbour cannot see. 