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0/^. 47
P O E M S
SSI
SON OF FINGAL.
V 0 L. IL
THE
POEMS
OF
S S I A N,
THE
SON OF FINGAL.
TRANSLATED
By JAMES MACPHERSON, Efq.
A NEW EDITION.
CAREFULLY CORRECTED, AND GREATLY IxMPROVED. VOL. 11.
WE MAY BOLDLY ASSIGN OSSIAN A PLACE AMONG THOS WHOSE WORKS ARE TO LAST FOR AGES. BLAIR.
LONDON:
Printed for AV. BAYNES, No. 54, Paternoftcr-rxow,
1/9S.
PRICE, BOUND, EIGHT SHILLINGS.
CONTENTS
OF THE
SECOND VOLUME.
PAGE
'Temcra, Book I. . . - 5
Book IT. - . . 25
Book III. - - - 41
Book IV, - - - 57
BookV.
73
Book V'l. - - - 87
Book VII. ■ - - - 103
Bock VIII. - - -
Ovia-Morul - _ .
Colna-Dona . - .
Dijfertation concerning the Poems of OJfian
Dr. Blair's Difertation, - - ]8->
Critical Obfervations by Lord Kamcs - 291
117
139
147
T E AI O R A:
AN
EPIC POEM.
IN EIGHT BOOKS.
' THE ARGUMENT. *~
Cairbar, the Ion of Borbar-dutnul, lord of Atha in ConnaiighV the mod p )tent chief of the race of the Fjiboljr, having murdered at Temora vhe roya! palace, Cormac the fon of Artho, the young king of Ireland, ufarped the throne. Cor* mac wai lineally deicended from Conar the fon of Trennior, the oreat-grandfather of Finoal, king of thofe Caledonians who inhabited the weftern coaft of Scotland. Fingal refen:ed the behaviour of Cairbar, and refclved to pals over into Ireland, with an army, to re eftablilh the royal family on the Irilli throne. Early intelligence of his defigns coming to Cairbar, he afwmbled lome of his tribes in Ulfter, and at tlie fame time ordered his brother Cathmor to follow him fpeedily vithan army, from. Tenioia, Suchwas the fituation of affairs when the Caledoni in fleet appeared on the coaft of Ulfter. The p^em opens in the mining Cairbar is repiefented as retired from tiie reft of tiie army, ^hen one of his fcouts br jught him news of the landing of Fingal He aifembles a council of ins ciiiefs Foldath the chief of Morca haugiitiiy defpiies tlie enemy; and is lepiimanded warmly by Malthos. Cailbai-, af'.er hea'ing their debate, orders a feafl to be prepared, to which, by his bard Olla, he invites Olc.tr the fon ofOllian ; refoKing to pick aquarrel with that Iiero, aud fo have fome pretext for killing him. Ofcar came to the f^afti the quarrel happened ; the foliowers of both fought, and Cairbar and Ofcar fell by mutual wounds. The noiie of the battle reached Fmgal's army. The king came on, to the relief of Ofcar, and the Irifh fell back to ti^e army of Cathmcr, who was advanced to the banks of the river Lu- bar, on tlie lieath of Moi 'ena. Fin.a! after mourning over his grandibn, ordered Ullin the chief of his bards to carry his body to Morven, to b; there interred. Night coming on, Althan, the fon of Conacbar, relates to the king the par- ticulars of the murder of Cormac. Flllan, the fon of Fingal, is fent to ob'erve the motions of Catlimor by night, which concludes the aftion of the firft day. The fcene of tiiis book n a plain, near the hill of iMora, which rofe on the boiders of the heath cf Moi-lena, in Ulfter.
BOOK I.
THE blue waves of Ullin roll in light. The green hills are covered with day. Trees fhake A 3 their
6 T E M 0 R A : Bock. 1.
their duHcy heads in tlie breeze. Gray torrents pour their noify flreams. 1 VvO green hills, with aged oaks, furround a narrow plain. The blue courfe of a ftream is there; on its banks flood Cairbar* of Atha. His fpear fupports the king : the red eyes of his fear are fad. Connac rifes in his foul, with all his ghaftly wounds. The gray form of the youth appears in daiknefs ; blood pours from his airy fides. Cairbar thrice threw his fpear on earth ; and thrice he ftroked his beard. His fteps are fhort-, he often ftops; and tofles his finewy arms. He is like a cloud in the defart, that varies its form to every blaft : the valleys are fad around, and fear, by turns, the (hower.
The king, at length, refumed his foul, and took his pointed fpear. He turned his eyes to Moi-lena. 'i he fcouts of blue ocean came. They came with fleps of fear, snd often looked behind. Cairbar knew that the mighty were near, and called his gloojny chiefs.
The foundir g fteps of his warriors came. They drew, at once, ttieir fwords. 1 here Morlath f ftood
with
* Cairbar, the fon of Borbar-duthul, was defcended lineally horn I.arthon the chief of the Firbolg, the firll colony wlio fettled in the fouth of Ireland. The Gael vere in poffclficn of the northern coaft of that kingdom, and the firft monarchs of Ireland were of their race. Hence arcfe thofe diiTerences between the two nations, which terminated, at laU, in the murder of Corniac, and the ufurpation of Cairbar. lord of Atha, who is mentioned in this place.
t Mor-lath, great in the day '/ battle. Hidalla', mildly looking hero. Cor-mar, expert at fea. Malth- os, Jloiv to [peak. Foldath, generous.
Foldatb, who is here ftrongly marked, makes a great figure in the fcquel of the poem. His fierce, unromplying charafler is fuft^ined throughout. He feems, from a pafTage in the fecond book, to have been Cairbar's greitefl con- fident, and to have had a principal hand in the confpirac" againll Cormac king of Ireland. His tribe V\'as one of t!ic mofl confiderablc of the race of the Fir-bolg.
Booi L A N E P I C P O E M. 7
witli darkened face. Hidalla's long hair fighs in wind. Red-haired Cormar bends on his fpear, and rolls his fide-long-Iooking eyes. Wild is the look of Malthos from beneath two ihaggy brows. Foldath ftands like an oozy rock, that covers its dark fides with foam. His fpear is like Slimora's fir, that meets the wind of heaven. His fhield is marked with the ftrokes of battle; and his red eye defpiles danger. Thefe and a thoufand other chiefs furrounded car- borne Cairbar, when the fcout of ocean came. Mor-annal, from ftreamy Moi-lena. His eyes hang forward from his face, his lips are trembling, pale.
" Do the chiefs of Erin ftand," he faid, " filent as the grove of evening i* Stand they, like a filent wood, and Fingal on the coaO: ? Fingal, the terrible in bat- tle, the kingof ftreamy Morven." " Haft thou feen the warrior?" faid Cairbar with a figh. " Are his heroes many on the coaft ? Lifts he the fpear of battle ? Or comes the king in peace ?" " In peace he comes not, Csirbar. i have feen his forward fpear*. It is a meteor of death ; the blood of thou- fands is on his iteel. He came firft to the fnore, ftrong in the gray hair of age. Full rofe his finewy limbs, as he role in his might. That fword is by his fide which gives no fecond j wound. His fhield is
terrible,
* Mor-annal here alludes to the particular appcaraace cf Fingal's fpear. If a man, upon his firft landing in a ftrange country, kept the point of his fpear forward, it denoted in thole davs that he came in a Lofiile manner, and accordingly he was treated as an encn.y ; if he kept the point behind him, it was a token of friendlTiip, and he was immediately invited to the feaft, according to the hofpi- tality of the times.
t This was the famous fword of Fingal, made by Luno, a fmith of Lochlin, and after him poetically called the fon of Luno : it is faid of this fword, that it killed a man at every ftroke ; and that Fingal never uFed it but in times of the greateft danger.
8 T E M O R A : Boo^ /.
terrible, like the bloody moon afcending through a ftorm. Then came Oilian king of longs ; and Morni's Ton, the firft of men. Connal leaps forward on his ipear : Dermit fpreads his dark-brown Jocks. Fillan bends hrs bow, the young hunter of flreamy Moruth. But who is that befoie them, like the dreadful ccurfe of a ftream ? It is the fon of Offian, bright between his locks. His long hair falls on his back. His dark brows are half-mclofed in fteel. His fword hangs loofe on his fide. His fpear glitters as he moves. 1 fied from his terrible eyes, king of high Temora."
" Then fjy, thou feeble man," faid Foldath in gloomy wrath, " Fly to the gray ftreams of tliy land, fon of the little foul ! Have not I feen that Ofcar .? I beheld the chief in war. He is of the mighty in danger ; but there are others who lift tlie fpear. Erin has many fons as brave, king of Te- mora of Groves ! Let Foldath meet him in the firength of his courfe, and ilop this mighty ftream. My fpear is covered with the blond of the valiant; my (hield is like the wall of Tura."
" Shall Foldath* alone meet the foe?" replied the dark-browed Malthos. " Are they not numerous on our coaft, like the waters of many ftreams ? Are not thefe the chiefs who vanquifhed Swaran, when the fons of Erin fled .? And fiiail Foldath meet their braveft heroes .'' Foldath of the heart of pride ! take the ilrength of the people ; and let Malthos come. My fword is red with flaughter, but who has heard my words ? f"
" Sons
* The oppofite cliarafters of Foldath and Malthos are ftrongly marked in fubrtquent parts of the poein. They appear ahvays in oppofnion. The fcuus between their fa- milies, which were the Ibiirce of their hatred to one another, are mentioned in other poems.
t That is, who has heard my vaunting ? He in'ended the e.xprcflion as a rebuke to the felf-piaife of Foldath.
Book J. ANEPICPOEM. 9
« Sons of green Erin," faid Hidalla*, " let not Fingal hear your words. The foe might rejoice, and his arm be ftrong in the land. Ye are brave, O warriors, and likethe ftorms of the defart ; they meet the rocks without fear, and overturn the woods. But let us move in our ftrength, flow as a gathered cloud. Then fhall the mighty tremble ; the fpear (hall fall from the hand of the valiant. We fee the cloud of death, they will fay, while (hadows fly over their face, Fingal will mourn in his age, and fee his flying fame. The fleps of his chiefs will ceafe in Morven : the mofs of years fhall grow in Selma,"
Cairbar heard their words, in filence, like the cloud of a fliower : it ftands dark, on Cromla, till the lightning burfls its fides : the valley gleams with red light ; the fpirits of the ftorm rejoice. So flood the nlent king of Temora ; at lentth his words are heard.
" Spread the feaft on Moi-lena : let my hundred bards attend. Thou, red-haired Olla, take the harp of the king. Go to Ofcar chief of fwords, and bid him to our feaft. To-day we feaft and hear the long; to-morrow break the fpears. Tell him that I have raifed the tomb of Cathol f ; that bards have fung to his ghoft, Teii him that Cair'oar lias iieard
his
* Hidalla was the chief of Clonra, a fmall diftricl on the banks of the lake of Lego. The beauty of his perfon, his eloquence, and genius for poetry, arc afterwards men- tioned.
t Cathol tiie fon of Maronnan, or Moran, was mur- dered by Calibar, for his attachment to the family of Cormac. He had atiended Ofcar to the ii'ar of Inis' thona, where they contracled a great friendfhip for one another. Ofcar immediately after the death of Cathol, had fent a formal challenge to Cairbar, which he prudently declined, but conceived a fecret hatred againft Ofcar, and had beforehand contrived to kill him at the feaft, to which he here Invites him.
10 temora: Book L
his fame at the ftream of refounding C arun *. Cath- mor t is not here, Borbar duthul's generous race. He is not here with his thoufands, and our arms are weak. Cathmor is a foe to ftrife atthefeafl:: his foul is bright as that fun. But Cairbar fhali fight with Ofcar, chiefs of the woody Temora ! His w©rds for Cathol were many ; the v\ rath of Cairbar burns. He ftiall fall on Moi-lena: my fame (hall rife in blood."
Their faces brightened round w'th joy. They fpread over Moi-lena. The feaft of (hells is pre- pared. The fongs of bards arife. We heard % the
* He alludes to the battle of Ofcar agalnfl: Caros, Amg" of Jh'ips ; who is fuppofed to be the fame with Garaulius- the uiurper.
t Cathmor, great in battle, the Ton of Borbar-duthul, and brother of Cairbar king of Ireland, had, before the infurreftion of the Firbolg, pafied over into Inis-huna^ fuppofed to be a part of South-Britain, to affift Conmor king of that place againft his enemies. Cathmor was fuc- cefsful in the war, but, in the courfe of it, Conmor was either killed, or died a natural death. Cairbar, upon in- telligence of the defigns of Fingal to dethrone him, had difpatched a melTenger for Cathmor, who returned into Ireland a few days before the opening of the poem.
Cairbar here takes advantage of his brotlier's abfence, to perpetrate his ungenerous defigns againft Ofcar ; for the noble fplrit of Cathmor, had he been prefent, would nut have permitted the laws of that hofpitality, for which he was fo renowned himfelf to be violated. The brothers form a contraft ; we do not deteft the mean foul of Cairbar more, than we admire the difinterefted and generous mind of Cathmor.
\ Fingal 's army heard the joy that was in Cairbar's camp. The chara<fler given of Cathmor is agreeable to the times. Some, through oftentation, were hofpitable ; and others fell naturally into a cuftom handed down from their anccUors. But what marks ftrongly the charadler of Cath- mor,
Boot I. ANEPICPOEM. II
voice of joy on the coaft : we thought that mighty Cathmor came. Cathmor the friend of Grangers! the brother of red-haired Cairbar. Their fouls were not the fame. The light of heaven was in the bofom of Cathmor. His towers rofe on the banks of Atha: feven patlis led to his halls. Seven chiefs flood on the paths, and called the ftranger to the feaft ! But Cathmor dwelt in the wood to avoid the voice of praife.
Olla came with his fongs. Ofcar went to Cairbar's feaft. Three hundred warriors flrode along Moi-lena of the ftreams. The gray dogs bounded on the heath, their howling reached afar. Fingal faw the departing hero : the foul of the king was fad. He dreaded Cairbar's gloomy thoughts, amidft the feaft
of
mor, is bis averfion to praife ; for he is reprefented to dwell in a wood to avoid the thanks of his guefts ; which is ftill a higher degree of generofity than that of Axylus in Ho- mer ; for the puet does not fay, but the good man might, at the head of his own table, have heard with pleafurc the praife beflowed on him by the people he entertained.
No nation in the world carried hofpitality to a greater length than the ancient Scots. It was even infamous, for many ages, in a man of condition, to have the door of his houfe fliut at all, left, as the bards exprefs it, the Jiranger Jhould come and behold his contraSled foul. Some of the chiefs were pufleffed of this holpitable difpofition to an extravagant degree ; and the bards, perhaps upon a felfifh account, never failed to recommend it, in their eulogiums. Cean-uia' na da't*^ or the po'mt to 'which all the roads ef the jlrangers lead, was an invariable epithet given by them to the chiefs ; on the contrary, they diftinguiflied the inhofpitable by the title of the cloud which the fira^igers Jhun. This lafi; however was fo uncommon, that in all the old poems I have ever met with, I found but one man branded with this ignominious appellation ; and that, perhaps, only founded upon a private quarrel, which fubfifted between him and the patron of the bard, , who wrote the pcem.
12 temora: Book I
of fhells. My fon raifed high the fpear of Cormac : an hundred bards met him with fongs. Cairbar concealed with fmiles the death that was dark in his foul. The feaft is fpread, the fhells refound : joy brightens the face of the hoft. But it was like the parting beam of the fun, when he is to hide his red head in a ftorm.
Cairbar rofe in his arms ; darknefs gathered on his brow. The hundred harps ceafed at once. The clang* of Ihields was heard. Far diftant on the heath Olla raifed his fong of woe. My fon knew the fign of death; and rlfing feized his fpear, " Ofcar !" faid the dark- red Cairbar, I behold the fpear f of Innis-fail. The fpear of Temora J glitters in thy hand, fon of woody Morven ! It was the pride of an hundred || kings, the death of heroes of old. Yield it, fon of Oflian, yield it to car-borne Cairbar."
« Shall
* When a chief was determined to kill a perfon already in his power, it was ufual to fignify that his death was in- tended, by the found of a ftiield ftruck with the blunt end of a fpear ; at the fame time that a bard at a diflance raifed the deatb-fong. A ceremony of another kind was long ufed in Scotland upon fuch occafions. Every body has heard that a bull's head was ferved up to Lord Douglas in the caftle of Edinburgh, as a certain fignal of his ap- proaching death.
t Cormac, the fon of Arth, had given the fpear, which is here the foundation of the quarrel, to Ofcar when he came to congratulate him, upon Swaran's being expelled from Ireland.
\ Ti-mor-rath, the boiife of good fortune, the name of the royal palace of the fupreme kings of Ireland.
li Hundred here is an indefinite number, and is only intended to exprefs a great many. It was probably the hyperbolical phrafes of bards, that gave the firft hint to the Irilli Senachies to place the origin of their monarchy in fo remote a period as they have done.
Bock [. AN EPIC POEM. I^
" Shall I yield," Ofcar replied, " the gift of Erin's injured king : the gift of fair-haired Cormac, when Ofcar fcattered his foes ! I came to Cormac's halls of joy, when Swaran fled from Fingal. Gladnefs rofe in the face of youth : he gave the fpear of Te- mora. Nor did he give it to the feeble, O Cairbar, neither to the weak in foul. The darknefs of thy face is no ftorm to me ; nor are thine eyes the flames of death. Do I fear thy clanging (hield ? Tremble I at Olla's fong r No : Cairbar, irighten the feeble ; Ofcar is a rock."
" And wilt thou not yield the fpear?" replied the rifing pride of Cairbar. " Are thy words fo mighty becaule f'ingal is near? Fingal with aged locks from Morven's hundred groves ! He has fought with little men. But he mull vanifli before Cairbar, like a thin pillar of mift before the winds of Atha*" " Were he who fought with little men near Atha's darkening chief: Atha's darkening chief would yield green Kriu his rage. Speak not of the mighty, O Cairbar I but turn thy fword on me. Our flrcngth is equal ; but Fingal is renowned! the firfl of mortal men !"
Their people faw the darkening chiefs. Their crowding fteps are heard around. i'he.r eyes roll in fire. A thoufand fwords are half unflieathed. Red- haired Olla raifed the fong of battle : the trembling Joy of Ofcar's foul arofe ; the wonted joy of his foul when P'ingal's horn was heard. Dark as the fwelling wave of ocean before the rifing winds, when it bends its head near a coafl:, came on the hoil of Cairbar.
Daughter of Tofcarf 1 why that tear ? He is not fallen yet. Many were the deaths cf his arm before -my hero k'A !
Vol. II. B Behold
* Atha, Jl:aIloZi! river : the name of Cairbar's feat in Connawght.
t Malvina, the daughter of Tofcar, to whom he addi-clTcs that pait of th£ poein which relates to the death oi Ofcar he.T lever.
•14 TEMOR A : Book I.
Behold they fall before my fon like the groves in the defarr, when an angry ghoft ruflies through night, and takes their green heads in his hand ! MoiTath falls : Aiaronnan dies : Conachar trembles in his blood. Cairbar (hrinks before (Jfcai's Iword ; and creeps in darknefs behind his ftone. He lifted the fpear in fecret, and pierced my O fear's fide. He falls forward on his (hield ; his knee fuftasns the chief. But ftill his fpear is in his hand. See gloomy Cair- bar* falls ! The fteel pierced his forehead, and di- vided
* The Indi hidorians place the death of Cairbar, in the latter end of the third century : they fay, he was killed in battle agaiiifi Ofcar the ion of Offian, but deny that ht fell by his hand.
It IS, however, certain, that the Irifh hlftorians difguife, in feme meafure, this part of their hiflory. An Irifh poem on this fubject, which, undoubtedly was the fource of their information, concerning the battle of Gabhra, where Cair- bar fell, is juft now in my hands. The circumflances arc lefs to the difadvantage of the charaftc.r of Cairbar, than thofe related by Ollian, As a tranflation of the poem (which, tho' evidently no very ancient coinpofition, does not want poetical merit) would extend this note to too great a length, I Aall only give the ftory of it, in brief, with fome extrads from the original Irifli.
Ofcar, fays the Irilh bard, was invited to a feaft, at Temora, by Cairbar king of Ireland. A d fpute arofe betv.een the two heroes, concerning the exchange of fpears, which was ufually made, between the guefls and their hoft, upon fuch occafions. In the courfe of their altercation, Cairbar faid, in a bGaflful manner, that he would hunt on the hills of Albion, and carry the fpoiis of it into Ireland, in fpite.of all the efforts of its inhabitants. The original words are :
Briathar bnan fin ; Briatliar buan
A bhtireadh an Cairbre rua',
Gu tuga' fe fealg, agus creach
A Ii'Albin an la'r na mhaireacb.
Ofcar
S.ok r. AN EPIC POEM. 15
vided his red hair behind. He lay like a Hiattered rock, whicli Cromla rtiakes from its Ihaggy fide. But never more ihali Ufcar rife ! he leans on his boffy (hield. His jpear is in. his terrible hand : Erin's fons (lood diftant and dark. Tlieir Ihouts arofej like crowded Itreams •, Mri-lena echoed wide.
Fingal heard the found ; and took his father's fpcar. His fteps are before us on the heath. He fpoke the words of woe." " 1 hear the noife of war. Young Ofcar is alone. Rife, fons of Morven^ join the hero's fword."
Of?"ian rui'hed along the heath. Fillan bounded over \ioi-!cn2. Fingal foode in his ftrength, and tile light of his fliield is terrible. The fons of Eria faw it far diftant ; they trembled in their fouls. They knew that the wrath of the king arofe : and they forefaw their death. We firft arrived ; v\'e fought ; and Erin's chiefs withftood our rage. But when the king came, in the found of his courfe, whai. heart of fteel could fland ! Erin fled over Moi-Iena. Death B 2 purfued
Gfcar replied, that, the next day4 he himfelf would carry into Albion the fpoils of the five provinces of Ireland \ Li ipite of the oppofition of Cairbar.
Briathar eile an aghai' fin
A bheirea' an t'Ofcar, og, calma
Gu'n tugadh fe fealg argus creach
Do dh'ALBiN an la'r na mhairearh, isfc. Ofcar, in confequence of his threats, b.-gun to lav v;a{\e .Ireland ; but as he returned with the the fpoil into Ulfler. 'I'hruugh the narrow pafs of Gabhra (Caoil-ghlcn- GbabbraJ he was met, bv Cairbar, and a battle enfncd, in which both the heroes fell by mutual wounds. Tlie bard gives a very curious lift of the followers of Ouar, as they m.arclicd to battle. They appear to have been five hundred in number, commanded, as the poet expreffcs it, by five heroes cf the bcod of kings. This poem mentions Fingal, as arriving from Scotlaud, before Ofcar died ot his wounds.
j6 temora: Book I.
purfued tlieir flight. We faw Ofcar on his fliield. We faw his blood around. Silence darkened every face. Each turned his back and wept. The king frrove to hide his tears. His gray beard whiftled in the wind. He bent his head above his fon. His words were mixed with fighs.
" And art thou fallen, Ofcar, in the midft ef thy courfe ? the heart of the aged beats over thee ! He fees tJiy coming wars. The v/ars which ought to come he fees, but they are cut off from tliy fame. When Ihali joy dwell at Selma r "When Oiall grief depart from Morven ? My fons fall by degrees: Fingal Ihall be the laft of his race. The fame which I have received fliall pafs away: my age Vvfill be without friends. 1 flialJ fit a gray cloud in my hall : nor ihall I hear the return of a fon, in the midft of his founding arms. Weep, ye heroes of Alorven!' never inore ihall Ofcar rife !"
And they did weep, O Fingal ; dear was the hero to their fouls. He went out to battle, and the foes vaniflied ; lie returned, in peace, amidfl: their joy. No father mourned his fon llain in youth ; no bro- ther liis brother of love. They fell, without tears, for the chief of the people was lov; ! Bran * is ]iow]ing at liis feet: gloomy Luiith is fad, for he had often led them to the chafe; to the bounding roe of the defalt.
When Ofcar faw his friends around, his breaft arofe with fighs. « The groans," he laid, " of aged chiefs ; the howling of my dogs : the fudden burils of fongs of grief, have melted Ofcar's foul. My foul, that never melted before ; it was like the fteel cf my fvvord. Offian, carry me to my hills ! Raife the ftones of my renovv-n. Place the horn of the deer, and my fword within mv narrow dwelling.
The
* Bran was one of Fingal's dogs. Bran figr.ifies a yucutitijin-jlrcam.
Book I. A N E P I C P O E !^ • . J 7
I'he torrent hereafter may raife the earth : the hunter may find the fteel and fay, " I'his has been Ofcar's fword."
" Andfalleft thou, fon of my fame! And fliall I never fee thee, Ofcar ! When others hear of their fons, I flial! not hear of thee. The mofs is on thy four gray ftones ; the mournful v>'ind is there. The battle Hial! be fought without hirn : he fliall not purfue the dark-brown hinds. When t!ie warrior returns from battles, and tells of other lands ; I have feen a tomb, he vvrlf fay, by the roaring flream, the dark dv^-elling of a chief. He fell by car-borne Ofcar, the hrll of mortal m.en. I, perhaps, fliaJl hear his voice ; and a beam of joy v.ill rife in my foul."
The night would have defcended in forrow, and morning returned in the fliadow of grief: our chiefs would have flood hke cold dropping rocks on A4oi- lena, and have forgot the war, did not the king dif- perfe his grief,, and raife his mighty voice. The chiefs, as new- wakened from, dreams, Jifc up their heads around, -
" How long on Moi-lena fhall Vve weep; or pour our tears in Ullin .? The mighty will not return. Ofcar fnall not rife in his llrength. . The valiant mufl fall one day, and be no more known on his hills. Where are our fathers, O warriors ! the chiefs of th,e times of old .'' 'J'hey have fet like ftars that hsve Ihone, we only hear the found of their praife. But they were renowned in their d-ay, the terror of other times. Thus fliall we pafs, O v.-arriors, in the day of our fall. Then let us be renowned when we may ; and leave our fame behind us, like the lall beams of the fun, when he hides his red hesd in the weft. Ullin, my aged bard ! take the Hiip of the king. Carry Ofcar to Selma of harps. Let the daughters of Mo; ven v;eep. We (hall fight in Erin for t!ie race of fallen Cormac. The days of my years beein to fail : I feel the weaknefs of my ann. B3 • My
j8 . temora: Book I.
My fathers bend from their clouds, to receive their gray-haired fon. But, before I go hence, one beam of fame Ihall rife: fo (hall my days end, as my years bea;un, in fame : my life rtiall be one flreain of light to bards cf other times.
Ullin raifed his white fails : the wind of the fouth came forth. He bounded on the waves towards Selma. I remained in my grief, but my words were not heard. The feaft is fpread on Moi-lena : an hundred heroes reared the tomb of Cairbar : but no fong is raifed over the chief: for h.s foul had been dark and bloody. The bards remembered the fall of Cormac ! what could thev fay in Cairbar's praife ?
The night came rolling dov^'n. 1 he light of an hundred oaks arcfe. Fingal fat beneath a tree. Old Althan* flood in the mldli, He told the tale of fallen Cormac. Aitlian the fon of Conachar, the ffiend of car- borne Cuchullin : he dwelt with Cor- inac in windy Temora, when Semo's fon fought with generous Torlath. The tale of Althan was inournful, and the tear was in his eye. ■ »" Thef fetting fun was yellow on Dora J. Gray evening began to defcend. Temora's woods fliook with the blaft of the unconftant wind. A cloud, at length, gathered in the weft, and a red ftar looked from behind its edge. 1 ftood in the wood alone, and fav/ a ghoft on tl)e daiktning air. His ilride extended from hill to hill : h.is Ihieid was dim on his liue. It was the fon cf Semo : I knew the warrior's
face.
* Althan, the fon of Conr.char, was the chief bard of Arth.king of ireland. After the death of Avth, Altliaa attenied his fon Cormac, ar.d was prefent at his death. He had made his efcape from Caiibar, by the means of Cath- mor, and comhig to Fiugid, related, as here, the death of his mslier Cormac.
t Althan fpeaks.
I Doira, the Kuocdy fide oj a luountain ; it is here a kill in tlie neighbourhood of Tcnicra.
Booh L AN EPIC POEM. I9
face. But he pafled away in his blaft ; and all was dark around. My foul was fad. I went to the hall of (hells. A thoufand lights arofe : the hundred bards had ftrung the harp. Cormac ftood in the midft, like the morning rtar, when it rejoices on the eaftern hill, and its young beams are bathed in fliowers. The fvvord of Artho* was in the hand of the king; and he looked with joy on its polifhed ftuds : thrice he ftiove to draw it, and thrice lie failed ; his yellow locks are fpread on his llioulders : his cheeks of youth are red. I mourned over the beam of vouth, for he was foon to kx.
" Alth'an!" he faid, with' a fmile, "haft thou beheld my father ? Heavy is the fword of the king, furely his arm was ftrong. O that I were like him in battle, when the rage of his wrath arofe ! then would I have met, like Cuchullin, the car-borne ion of Cantcla ! But years may come on, O Althan ' and my arm be ftrong. Hail thou heard of Semo's fon, the chief of h:gh Temora r He might have returned with his fame; for he promiled to return to-night. My bards wait him with fongs ; my feail: is fpread in Temora."
" I heard the king in filence. My tears began to flow. I hid them with my aged locks ; but he per- ceived my grief. " Son of Conachar !" he faid, " is the king of Tura f low r Why burfls thy figli in lecret ? And why defcends the tear ? Comes the car-borne Torlath ? Or the found of the red-haired Cairbar ? They come ! for I behold thy grief Mofiy Tura's king is low ! Shall I not rulh to battle ? But I cannot lift the fpear ! O had mine arm the ftreneth of Cuchullin, foon would Cairbar flv ;
the
* Arth or Artho, the father of Cormac king of Ireland.
T Cuchullin is called the king of Tura, from a caflle of that name on the coaft of Uh^ier, where he dwelt, before he undertook the management oi' the affairs of Ireland, ill the minority of G.rmac.
20 T E M 0 R A : Book I.
the fame of my fathers would be renewed ; and the deeds of other times !"
" He took his bow. The tears flow down, from both his fparkhng eyes. Grief faddens round: the bards bend forward, from th<iir hundred harps. The lone blaft touched their trembling firings. "Jlie found * is fad and low. A voice is heard at a dif- tance, as of one in grief? it was Carril of other times, who came from dark Slimora |. He told of the death of Cuchullin, and of his mighty deeds. The people were fcattered round his tomb : their srms lay on tire ground. They liad forgot the war, for he, their lire, was feen no more.
" But who," faid the fofc-voiced Carril, " come like the bounding roes ? their ftature is like the young trees of the plain, growing in a Ihower : Soft and ruddy are their cheeks ; but fearlefs fouls look forth from their eyes ? Wlio but the fons of Ufnoth t,
the
* The prophetic found, mentioned in other poems, which the harps of the bards emitted before the death of a perfun ■worthy and renowned. It is here an omen of the death of Coimac, v. hich, foon after, followed.
t Shmora, a hill in Ccnnaught, near which Cuchullin was killed.
\ Ufnoth chief of Etha, a dlflrlct on the weftern coaft cf Scotland, had three fons, Nathos, Althos, and Ardan, by Sliilama the lifter of Cuchullin. The three brothers, when very young, were fent over to Ireland by their fa- ther, to learn the ufe of arms under their uncle, whofe military fame was very great in that kingdom. They had jufl arrived in Ulfter when the news of Cuchullin's death arrived. Nathos, the eldcft of the three brothers, took the command of Cuchullin's army, and made head againfl Cairbir the chief of Atha. Galrbar having, at lafl, mur- dered young king Cormac, at Temora, the army of Nathos fiiifted fides, and the brothers were obliged to return into Ulfter, in order to paf» over into Scotland. The fequel of their mournful ftory is related^ at large, in the poem of Par-thula.
Bosk 1. AN EPIC POEM. 21
the car-borne chiefs of Etha. The people rife on every fide, hke the ftrength of an half-extinguiOied fire, when the winds come, fudden, from the defart, on their ruftling wings. The found of Caithbat's* Hiield was heard. I'he heroes faw Cuchullin f in Nathos. So rolled his fparkling eyes : his ftcps were fuch on the heath. Battles are fought at Lego : the fword of Nathos prevails. Soon llialt thou behold him in thy halls, king of Temora of Groves."
" And foon may 1 behold the chief!" replied the blue-eyed king. " But my foul is fad for Cuchullin ; his voice was pleafant in mine ear. Often have we moved, on Dora, to the chafe of the dark-brown hinds : his bow was unerring on the mountains. He fpoke of mighty men. He told of the deeds of my fathers ; and 1 felt my joy. But fit thou at the feafl, O bard, I have often heard thy voice. Sing in the praife of Cuchullin ; and of that xuighty Granger |."
" Day rofe on woody T emora, with all tlie beams of the eaft. Trathin came to the hall, tl^e fon of old Gellamajl. « I behold," he faid, '' a dark cloud in the defart, king of Innis-fail ! a cloud it feemed at firft, but now a crowd of men. One ftrides before them in his ftrcngth ; his red hair flies in wind. His fliield glitters to the beam of the eaft. His fpear is is in his hand."
" Call him to the feaft of Temora," replied the king of Erin. " My hall is the houfe of Itrangers, fon of the generous Gellama ! Perhaps it is the chief of Etha, coming in the found of his renown. Hail,
mighty
* Gaithbat was grandfather to CuclniUin ; and his fhield was made ule of to alarm his pofterity to the battles of the fan lily.
t That is, they faw a manifeft hkenefs between the perfon of Nathos and CucluiUiii.
I Nathos the fon of Ufnoth.
li Ceal-Ianiha, '■xhitc-banded.
ZZ T E M 0 R A : Baoi T-
mighty * ftranger, art thou of the friends of Cormac ? But Carri], lie is dark, and unlovely ; and he draws his fword. Is that the fon of Ufnoih, bard of the times of old r"
" It is not the fon of Ufnoth," faid Carril, " but the chief of Atha Why comeft thou in thy arms to Temora, Cairbar of the gloomy brow ? Let not thy fword rife againft Cormac ! Whither dofl: thou turn thy fpeed J" He pafTed on in his darknefs, and feized the hand of the king. Cormac forcfaw his death, and the rage of his eyes arofe. Retire, thou.- gloomy chief of Atha : Nathos comes with battle. Thou art bold in Cormac's hall, for his arm is weak. The fword entered the fide of the king : he fell in the halls of his fathers. His fair hair is in the duft. His blood is fmoking round.
And art thou fallen in thy halls +, O fon of noble Artho ? The fhield of Cuchullin was not near. Nor the fpear of thy father. Mournful are the mountains of Erin, for the chief of the people is low ? Bled be thy foul, O Cormac ! thou art dark- ened in thy youth."
" His words came to the ears of Cairbar, and he clofcd ust in the midlt of darknefs. He feared to flretch his fword to the bards § though his foul was dark. Long had we pined alone : at length the noble Cathmor [j came. He heard our voice from the cave ;. he turned the eye of his wrath on Cairbar.
'^ Chief
* From this expreffion, \vc underfland, tint Cairhar liad entered the palace of Temora, in the n:idll of Cormac's fpeech.
f Althan fpeaks.
I That is, himlclt" and Carril, as k afterwards appears. \ The perlcns of the bards were fo facrcd, that even he,
who had juft murdered his fovereign, feared to kill them.
II Cathmor appears the H.me difinterefled hero upon every ©■jrafion. His humanity and generofity were unparalleled:
Booi I. A N E P I C P 0 E M: 23
« Chief of Atha !" he faid, " how long wilt thou pain my foul ? Thy heart is hke the rock of the defart ; and thy thoughts are dark. But thou art the brother of Cathrnor, and he will fight thy battles. But Cathmor's foul is not like thine, thou feeble hand of war ! The light of my bofom is ftained with thy deeds : the bards will not fing of my renown.
They may fay, Cathmor ivas brave^ but he fought for
gloomy Cairbar. They will pafs over my tomb in filence : my fame fhall not be heard. Cairbar ! loofe the bards : they are the fons of other times. Their voice fliall be heard in other years ; after the kings of Temora have failed."
" We came forth at the words of the chief. We faw him in his ftrength. He was like thy youth, O Fingal, when thou tiril didft lift the fpear. His face was like the plain of the fun, when it is blight : no darknefs travelled ever his brow. But he came with his thoufands to Ullin ; to aid the red-haired Cairbar: and now he comes to revenge his death, O king of woody Morven."
*' And let him come," replied the king; " I love a foe like Cathrnor. His foul is great ; his arm is ftrong, his battles are full of fame. But the little foul is a vapour that hovers round the marn"iy lake : it never rifes on the green hill, \ei\ the winds lliouid meet it there : its dwelling is in the cave, it fends forth the dart of death. Our young heroes, O war- riors, are like the renown of our fatheis. They fight in youth ; they fall : their names are in the fong. Pingal is amidft his darkening years. He mufh not fall, as an aged oak, acrofs a fecret ftream. Near it are the fleps of the hunter, as it lies beneath
the
in fhort he had no fault, but too mucii attachment to fo bad a brother as Cairbar. His family connection with Cairbar pievails, as he cxprefies it, over every other eon- fideration, and makes him engage in a war, of which he did not approvet
24 T E M O R A : Book L
the wind. Hozu has that tree fallen ? He, whiftling, ftrides along.
" Raife the fong of joy, ye bards of Morven, that our fouls may forget the part. The red ftars look on us frotn the clouds, and filently defcend. Soon fliall the gray beam of the morning rife, and fliew us the foes of Cormac. Fillan ! take the fpear of the king; go to Mora's dark- brown fide. Let thine eyes travel over the heath, like flaines of fire. Obferve the foes of Fingal, and the courfe of generous Cathmor. I hear a diilant found, like the falling of rocks in the defarf. But ftrike thou thy fhield, at times, that they may not come through n^ght, and the fame of Mor\'en ceafe. I begin to be alone, my fon, and I dread the fall of my renown."
The voice of the bards arofe. The king leaned on the fliield of 7>enmor Sleep defcended on his eyes ; his future battles rofe in his dreams. The hoft are fleeping around. Dark-haired Fillan obferved the foe. His fteps are on a diftaat hill : we hear, at times, his clanging fhield.
TEMORA:
T E M O R A
AN
EPIC POEM.
THE AKGUMEM T. This bock opens, we may Tuppo'e, about midnight, with a roli- loquy of OHi.iii, wliii had rerirtd from the relt of the army, to mourn for his fon O'car. Upon he iriirj the noife of Cath- nior's army approathin:', he went to find out his brother Fillan, who kept the wat h, on the hill of Mora, in the front of Finaal': army. In the converfation of the brothers, the epifode of Conar, the fon of Trenmor, who was the firfl king of Ireland, is introduced, which lays open the origin of tlie contclh. berwecT CacI and Fir-bo!g, the two nations who fiift polT-fTed themfeives of that ifland Offian kindles a fire on Mnra ; upon which Ca^hnior defifted from the defign he had formed of furprifmg the army of the Caledonian-. He calls a council of his chiefs; reprimatids Foldath for ad- vifmg a nighr attack, as the Ir;!h army were lb much fu- psrior in number to the enemy. The bard Fonar introduces the ft-nry of Crothar, the ancelt r of the kinjr, wh-ch throws further light on the hiftory of Ircla'id, and the original pre- tenfion- of the family of Atha, to the throne of that king- Cuim The Infh chiefs lie dr»wn t ■> reft, and Cathmor liimfelf jindert.ikes the watch In his circuit round the army, he is met by Oifi :n. The interview of the two heroes is delc-ribed. Cathmor obtains a promiie from Ollian, to (Tdei a I'uneral eieoy to be fung over the grave of Cairhar; it being tlie opi- nion of the times, that the fouls of the dead could not be h:ippv, till their elegies were Tung by a bard. Morning comes. Cat'-.mor and Oiuiin part; and the latter, cifnally meerins \iith Carril the Ion of K'.nfeiia, fends that bani, with a farerul !"> ng, to tlie tomb of Caiih.ir.
BOOK II.
FATHER* of heroes, Trenmor! dweller of eddying winds ! where tf\ere dark-red courfe of thvinder marks the troubled clouds ! Open thou thy Vol. li. C ftormy
* Though this book has iittle ai\ion, It Is not the Ie:\(l important part of Tcmora. The poet, in fevcral epifodcFj runs lip the caufe of the war to the very fource. Tlie firit
populatiou
26 T E M O R A : Book 77.
ftormy halls, and let the bards of old be near: let them draw near, with their fongs and their half- Vicwlefs harps. No dweller of niiily valley comes j no hunter unknovv'o at his (hearas ; but the car- borne Ofcar from the folds of war. Sudden is thy change, my fon, from what thou wert on dark Moi- lena ! The blail folds thee in its ilcirt, and ruftles along the fky. Dort thou not behold thy father, at tlie liream of night? The chiefs of iMoiven fleep far diflant. They have loft no fon. But ye have loft a hero. Chiefs of ih'eamy Morven i Who could equal his ftrength, when battle rolled againft his fide, like the darknefs of crowded waters t V/hy this clovd on OUian's foul r It ought to burn in danger. Erin is near with her hoft. The king of Morven is alone. Alone thou Ihalt not be, my father, while I can lift the fpear.
I rofe, in my rattling arms. I liftened to the wind of night. I'he Ihitld of Fillan* is not heard. I
Ihook
population cf L-cb.nd, the wars between the two nations who cri-glnally priltlVcd that iiland, its .£il\ race of kings, and the revolutions ot" its government, a'e important fads, and are delivered l)y the ppet, with fo little mixture of tlie fiU'ulous, that one tannot help preferring his nccounts to tl;e improbable fictions of the Scuitilh ai.d Irilh hifiorians. The Milefian tables of ihofe gentlemen bear aboOt them th.e marks of a late invention. To trace their legends to tlicir fource v.-ould be no difficult taik ; but a diic|u:ntioii of this fort would extend this note too f r.
* \\ e underftar.d, from the preceding bock, that Cath- nini was near with an armv. When Cairbar was killed, the tribes who attended hiiH fell back to Cathmor ; who, as it afterwards appears, bad taken a refokition to furprife Fiugal by nij;bt. Fillan v.as diPiJatchcd to the hill cf jMora, which was in the front of the Caledonians, to ob- fci%c the niotirns of Catlmior. In this litU".tion were afiaiis when Ollian, upon hearing the noife of the appioarh-
u.g
Book 11. AN EPIC POEM. 27
(hook for the Ton of Fingal. Why Hiould the foe come, by night; and the dark-luired warrior fail ? Diftant, fullen murmurs rife : like the noifc of the lake of Lego, when its waters ihrink, in the days of frort, and all its burfting ice rcfounds. 'f he people of Lara look to heaven, and forefee the ftorm. My fteps are forward on tlie hcalli : the fpear of Ofcar in my hand. Red ihrs looked from high. I gleamed, along the night. I faw Filbn ulenr before nie, bend- ing forward from Mora's rock. He heard the Ihout of the foe ; the joy oi his foul arofe. He heard ray founding tread, and turned his lifted fpear,
" Conieft thou, fon of night, in peace ? Or dofl: thou meet my wrath ? The foes of Fingal are mine. Speak, or fear my ileel. 1 ftand, not in vain, the fliicld of Morven's race."
" Never mayil thou Hand in vain, fon of blue- eyed Clatho. Fingal begins to be alone ; darknefs gathers on the lalt of his da)s. Yet he iias tvvo* C 2 fons
irig enemy, went to find out his brother. Their convcr- f^tion n.iturally introduces the eplfode, concerning Conar the fon of Trenmor, the firft Irilli monarch, which is fo Keceffary to the underHanding the fou.idation of" the re- bellion and ufurpaiion of Cairbar and Cathmor. Fillan was the youngeft of the Tons of Fingal, then living. He and Boriifma, mentioned in th.e battle cf Lorj, were the only children of the king, by Clatho the daughter of Ca- thulla king of Iniftorc, whom he had taken to wife, after tire death of Ros-rrana, the daugliter of Cormac Mac- Gonar king of Iieland.
* That is, two fons in Ireland. Fergus, the fecond fon of Finj^al, wns, at that time, on an expedition, which is mentioned in one of the lellcr poems of OfTian. He, ac- cording to fome traditions, was the anceflor of Fergus, the fon of Ere or Arrath, commoiily called Fergus the fecond in the ScottiOi liiflories. The beginning of the reign of Fergus, over the Scots, is plated, by the moR approved
annals
28 T E M 0 R A : Bwk II-
fons who ouebt to fliine in war. Who ought to be two beams of light, near the fteps of his departure."
" Son of Fingal," re;»lied the youth, " it is not long fince I raifcd th,e fpear. Few are the marks of my fword in battle, bi..'t uiy foul is fire. The chiefs of Bolga* crowd around the Ihield of generous Cathmor. Their gathering is on that Iieath. Shall my fteps approach their hoii ? I yielded to Ofcar alone, in the ftrife of tlie race, on Cona."
" Fillan, thou fhalt not approach their hofl; nor ftiil before thy fame is known. My name is heard in fong: when needful I advance. From the ftirts of night I (hall view their gleaming tribes. Why, Fillan, didll thou fpeak of Ofcar, to call forth my figh ? I muft forget f the warrior, till the ftorm is
rolled
annals of Scotland, in the fourth year of tl-c fifth age : a full century after tlie death of Ollian. The genealogy of his family is recorded thus by the highland Scnactiies ; Fergus Mac-Arcatb M^jc-Chongcal, Mac-Fergus^ Mac-Flongiul na bua'i : i. c. Fergus the fon of Arcat/i, the fon of Gongal, the fon of Fergus, the fon of Fingal the 'viSloricus. This fubjecl is treated more at large, in the Difiertation prefixed to the poems.
* The Ibutljein parts of Ireland went, for fome time, under the name of Bolga, from the Fir-bo!g or Belgs of Britain, who fettled a colony there. Bolg fignifics a quiver, from which proceeds Fir-bolg, i. c. hoiu-menf f) called from their lUing bows, more than any of the jj'jighboLiring nations.
f It is remaruable, that, af.er this palTage, Ofcar is not mentioned in all Temora. 'J he litiiations of tlie cha- racters who aA in tlie the poem are fo interciting, that others, foreign to the fabjecl;, could not be intri dutcd with any luftre. I'hough the epifode, which follows, may fetm to flow naturally enough from the eonverfation of the bro-. ihers, yet I have flaewn, in a preceding note, and, more at large in t'ne Difiertation prefixed to this collctflioii, thtt the poet had a farther defign in \ic\v..
I
Booi II. A N E P I C P O E M. 29
rolled away. Sadnefs ought to dwell In danger, nor tiie tear in the eye of war. Our fathers forgot their fallen fons, till the noife of arms was paft. Then forrow returned to the tomb, and the fong of bards arofe.
« Conar * was the brother of Trathal, fivft of mortal men. His battles were on every coaft, A thoutand llreams rolled down the b!ood of his foes. His fame filled green f^rin, like a pleafant gale. The nations gathered in Ullin, and ihey blelTed the king; the king of the race of their fathers, from tlie laiid of hinds.
" I'he chiefs f of the fouth were gathered, in tlie
darkncfs of their pride. In the horrid cave of ivlo-
C 3 ma,
* Conar, the firft king of Ireland, was tli£ fon of Tren- uior, the grcat-giaiid-father of Fingal. It was en account of this- family conntclion, that Fiiigal was engaged in fo many wars in the caufe of the race- of Conar. Tho' few of the aftions of Trenraor are mentioned in Oiiian's potnis, yet, from the honourable appellations beftowcd on him, we may conclude that he was, in the days of the poet, the moft renowned name of antiquity. Tiie moR probable opinion concerning liim is, that he v.-as the firft, who united the tribes of the Caledonians, and commanded tiiem, in chief, againft the incuiiions of tliC Romans. '\\\z gene- alogies of the North have traced his family far back, and given a lift of bis anceftors to Cuanmor nan Ian, or Conmor of the fwords, who, according to them, was tlw firft who croiTcd the grc\7t fea, to Caledonia, from which <ircumnance his name proceeded, which figniiies Giwu occiin. Genealogies of' fo ancient a date, however, aie little to be depended upon.
t The chiefs of the Fir-bolg who pofTefTed themfclves of the fouth of Ireland, prior, perhaps, to the fettlement of the Cael uf Caledonia, and the Hebrides, in Ulfter. From the fequel, it appears that the Fir-bolg were, by much, the mcft powerful nation ; and it is probable that the Gael muft have iubmitted to them, had they not re- ceived furcours from their mother-country, under the con> iwand of Conav,
30 T E M 0 R A : Book II.
ma, they mixed their fecret words. Tiiither often, they faid, the fpirits of their fathers came ; Ihewing their pale forms from the cbinky rocks, and remind- ing them of the honour of Bolga. Why fliould Conar reign, the fon of ftreamy Morven ?
" They came forth, like the ftreams of the defart, with the roar of their hundred tribes. Conar was a rock before them : broken they rolled on every fide. But often they returned, and the fons of Ullin fell. The king ftood, among the tombs of his warriors, and darklv bent his mournful face. His foul was rolled into itfelf ; he marked the place where he was to fall i when Trathal came, in his ftrength, the chief of cloudy Morven. Nor did he come alone; Colgar * was at his fide ; Colgar the fon of the king and of wh.te-bofomed Solin-conna.
" As TVfnmor, ciotp.ed with meteors, defccnds from the halls of thunder, pouring the dark ftorm before him over the troubled fea: fo Colgar defcendcd to battle, and wafted the echoing field. His father rejoiced over the hero: but an arrow came. His tomb was raifed, without a tear. The king was to revenge riis Ton. He lightened forward in battle, till Bo!ga yielded at her flreams.
" VVlien peace returned to the land, and his blue waves bore the king to Morven : then he remembered his fon, and poured the filent tear. Tiirice did the bards, at the cave of Furmono, call the foul of Go'gar. They called him to the hills of h;s land j i
he \
* Colg-er, fiercely-looJi'tng tvarr'ior. Snlin-corma, hluc exes. Colgar v as the eldefi of the fons oi Trathal: Comrial, \vl-,o was the father of Fingal, was very young when the prcfeiit expedition to Ireland happened. It is re- markable, tliat, of all his anreHors, the poet makes thileafl mention of Comhal ; \\ 1 ii h, probably, proceeded I'rom the unfortunate life and untinuly death of that hero. From fome pplTages, concei'naij; him, we Icai^n, indeed, that he w. s brave, but lie wair.td coniuf..
Booi II. A N E P 1 C P O E M. 3 1
he heard them in his mift. Trathal placed Iiis fword in the cave, that the fpirit of his fon might rejoice.
" Colgar*, fon of Trathil," faid Fillan, '•'■ thou wert renowned in youth! But the king hath not marked mv fwo d, bright- flreaming on the field. I go forth wiih the crowd: I return, without my fame. But the foe approaches, OlTian. I hear their mur- mur on the heath. The found oi their fteps is like thunder, in the bofom of the ground, when the rocking hills fhake their groves, and not a blalt pours from the darkened iky."
Sudden I turned on my fpear, and raifed the flame of an oak on high. I fpread it large on Mora's wind, Cathmor ftopt in his courfe. Gleaming he flood, like a rock, en whofe fides are the wandering ef biafts ; which feize its echoing ftreams and clothe them over with ice. So ftood the friend f of fl^angers. The winds lift his lieavy locks. 1 hou art the talkil of the race of Erin, king of flreamy Atha !
"• Firil of bards," faid Cathmor, " Foinar J, call the chiefs of Erin. Call red-haired Corm.ar, dark- browed Malthos, the fide- long-looking gloom of Maronah. Let the pride of Foldath appear: the red-rolling eye of Turlotho. Nor let Hidalla be
forgot J
* Tlie poet begins here to mark ftrongly the charafter of Fillan, who is to make fo gieat a figure in the fequel of the poem. He has the impaticnre, the ambition, and fire which are peculiar to a young haro. Kindled with the fame of Col gar, he forgets his untimely fall. From Fil- lan's exprefl'ons in this palTagc, it would ftem, that he was ncgtecied by Fingal, on account of his youth.
+ Cathmor is diflinguiP.ied, by this honourable title, on eccouDt of his generofitv to Grangers, which was fo great as to be remarkable, even in thofe days of hofpitality,
\ Fonar, the man ej foiig. Before the introduAion of Chriftianity, a name was not impofcd upon any perlbn, till he had diRinguiilied liimfelt by fome remarkable aftion, from which his name flioiild be derived.
32 r E M 0 R A : Book. 11.
forgot ; his voice, in danger, is like the found of a ftiower, when it falls in the blafted vale, near Atha's- failing ftream."
I'hey came, in their cbnging arms. They bent forward to his voice, as if a fpirit of their fathers fpoke from a cloud of night. Dreadful fhone they to the light i like the fall of the ftream of Brumo*,, when the meteor lights it before the nightly ftranger. Shuddering, he Hops in his journey, and looks up for the beam of the morn.
*' VVhyt delights p'oldath," faid the king, " to pour tbiC blood of foes, by night r Fails liis arms in battle, in the beams of day ? Few are the foes before us, why lhou!d we clothe us in mift ? The valiant delight to fhme, in the battles of their land. 'J'hy counfel was in vain, chief of Moma ; the eyes of Morven do not fleep. They are watchful, as eagles, on their morly rocks. Let each collect, beneath his cloud, the ftrength of his roaring tribe, 'Fo-morrovv I move in light, to meet the foes of Bolga ! Alighty :|; was he, that is low, the race of Bcrbar-duthul I"
" Not unmarked," laid Foldath, "were my fteps before thy race. In light, i met the foes of Cairbar; the warrior praifed my deeds. But his ilone w:s
raifcd-
* BruiTio- was a place nf worfliip (Fingal, B. VI.) in Craca, which is fuppofed to be one of tlic iik-s of ShetlancL It was thouglvt, that the fpirits of the deceafed haunted it, by night, which adds more terror to the dcfcriptiou intro- duced liere, TZ'e horrid circle of Bnimo, lubere often, they f-itd, the ghojis of the dead ho'n/lcd roiuid the fione of fear-
f From this paffage it appears, that it was Foldath who bad advifed the night attack. The gloom \' fharafter of Foldath is properly contrafted to the generous, the open i Cathinor.
\ By this exclamation, Cathmor intimates that he in- tends to revenge the death of his brother Cairbar,
Book II. A N E P I C P O E M. 33
ra'fcd without a tear? No bard fung* over Erin's king; and Ihal! his foes rejoice along their mofly hills ? No: they mull not rejoice : he was the friend of Foldath. Our words were mixed, in fecret, in Moma's filent cave ; whilft thou, a boy in the field, purfuedft the thifile's beard. W'ith Moma's fons I fliall ru(h abroad, and find the foe, on his dufky hills. Fingal fhall lie without his fong, the gray-haired king of Selma "
" Dort thou think, thou feeble man," replied the chief of Atha ; " doft thou think that he can fall, Vv'ithout his fame, in Erin ? Could the bards be filent, at the tomb of the mighty Fingal ? The fong would buift in fecret; and the fpirit of the king rejoice. It is when thou thalt fall, that the bard /liall forget the fong. Thou art dark, chief of Moma, though thine arm is a tempeft in war. Do I forget the king of Erin, in his narrrow houfc i* My foul is not loll: to Caii-bar, the brother of my love. I marked the bright beams of joy, which tra- velled over his cloudy mind, when 1 returned, with fame, to Atha of the dreams. "
Tall they remioved, beneath the words of the king; each to his own dark tribe; where humming, they rolled on the heath, faint-glittering to the ftars: like waves in the rocky bay, before the nightly wind. Beneath an oak, lay the chief cf Atha : his fliield, a duP^y round, hung high- Near him, againil a rock, leaned the ftranger f of Inis-huna : that beam
of
* To have no funeral elegy fung over his tomb, was, in thofe days, reckoned the greateR misfortune that could befal a man ; as his foul could not otherwiJe be admitted to the airy ball zf his fathers.
+ By the Jit anger of Inis-biina, is meant Siihnalla, tlic daughter of Conmor king of Inis-iiuna, the ancient name of that part of South-Britain, which is next to the Irilh coaft. Slic had followed Cathmor in dilguiie. Ker flory is related at large in the fourth book.
34 T E M O R A : Book n.
of light, with wandering locks, from Lumon of the roes. At diflance rofe the voice of Fonar, with- the deeds of the days of old. The fong i^ils, at times, in Lubar's growing roar.
" Crothar*," begun the bard, " firft dwelt at Atha's raofly ftreani. A thoufand f oaks, from the mountains, formed his echoing hall, The gathering of the people v;as there, around the feaft of the blue- eyed king. But who, among his chief?, was like the ftately Crothar ? V/arriors kindled in his pre- fence. l^h.e young figh of the virgins rofe. In AInecma J was the warrior honoured ; the firft of the race of Bolga.
« He
i
* Crothar was the anrcilor of Cathmor, aiid the fiift of] liis family, who had fettled in Atha, It was in his time-^ that the fiifl wars were kindled between the Fir-bolg anc Gael. The propriety of the epifode is evident ; as thi contefl which originally rofe between Crothar and Conar, fiibfifted afterwards between their poflerity, and was the ibtindation of the ftory of the poem.
t From this circun.ftance we may learn, that the art of building with ftone was not known in Ireland fo early as the days of Crothar. When the colony were long fettled in the country, the arts of civil life began to increafc among them ; for we find mention made of the tO\vers of Atha ill the time of Cathmor, which could not well be applied to wooden buildings. In Caledonia tliey begun very early to build with ftone. None of the houfcs of Fingal, ex- cepting Ti-foirmal were of wood. Ti-foirmal was the great hall where the bards met to repeat their compofitioKS • annually, before they fubmitted ther.i to tlie judgment cf | the king in Selma. S
\ Alnecma, or Alnecmacht, was the ancient name of Connaught. Ullin is ftill the Irifh name of the province of Uifter. To avoid the multipU ing of notes, I fliall here give the fignificatlon of tlie names in this epifode. Drumardo, bigb-r'nl^e. Cathmin, calm in battle. Con- laniha, foft hand. 'lurioch, jn.jH of the qu'rcer, Gormul, blue eye.
JBooi TI. AN EPIC POEM. 35
" He purfued the chafe in Ullin : on the mofs- covered top of Drumardo, From the wood looked the daughter of Cathmin, the blue-rolling eye of Con-lama. Her figli rofe in fecret. She bent her head, midft her wandering locks. The moon looked in, at night, and faw the vvhite-toffing of her arms • for (he thought of the mighty Crothar, in the feafon of her dreams.
Three days feafted Crothar with Cathmin. On the fourth they awakened the hinds. Con lama moved to the chafe, with all her lovely fteps. She met Crothar in the narrow path. The bow, fell, at once, from her hand. She turned her face away, and half-hid it with her locks. The love of Crothar rofe. He brought the vvhite-bofomed maid to Atha. Bards raifed the fong in her prefcnce ; joy dwelt round the daughter of Ullin.
*■' The pride of Torloch rofe, a youth who loved the white-handed Con-lama. He came, with battle, to Alnecma; to Atha of the roes. Cormul went forth to the ftrife, the brother of car- borne Crothar. He went forth, but he fell, and the figh of his people rofe. Silent and tall, acrofs the llream, came tlie darkening ftrength of Crothar : He rolled the foe from Alnecma, and returned, midft the joy of Con- Jama
" Battle on battle comes. Blood is poured on blood. The tombs of tlie valiant rife. Kfln's clouds Ere hung round with gholls. The chiefs of the fouth gathered round the echoing Hiield of Crothar. He came with death to the paths of the foe. The vir- gins wept, by the rtreams of Ullin. They looked to the mill: of the hill, no hunter defcended from its folds. Silence darkened in the land : blalls fighed lonely on graiTv tombs.
" befcendmg like the eagle of heaven, with all his niHling wings, when he forfakes the bbft with joy, t!\e fon of I'renmor came; Conar, arm of death, from Morven of the groves. He poured his might
along:
le
■J i
36 T E M O R A : Book IT.
along green Erin. Death dimly ftrode behind his fword. The Ions of Boiga Hed, from his courfe, as from a flream, that burning from the florniy defart, rolis the lields together, with all their echoing woods. Crothar* met him in battle: but Alnccma's warriors fled. The king of Atha flowly retired, in the grief of his fcul. He, afterwards, Ihone in the fouth ; but dim as the fun of autumn ; when he vifits, in his robes of miil, Lara of dark ftreaais. The with- ered grafs is covered with dew : the field, though bright, is fad."
" V\ by wakes the bard before me," faid Cath- mor, " the memory of thofe who fled ? Has fome ghoti, from his dulky cloud, bent forward to thine ear ; to frighten Cathmor from the field with the tales of old? Dwe.lers of the folds of n'ght, you: voice is but a blaft to me; which takes the gra thiftle's head, and ftrews its beard on ftreams? Within my bofom is a voice ; others hear it not, His foul forbids the king of Erin to flirink back from war.
Abafhed the bard nnks back in night : retired, he bends above a ftream, his thoughts are on, the days of Atha, when Cathmor heard his fong with joy. His tears come rolling down ; the winds are in his beard.
Erin
* The delirary of the bard, with regard to Crothr.r, is remarkable. As lie was the anceflor of Cathmor, to whom the epiiode is addrelTcd, the bard foftens his defeat, by onlj mentioning that his people fled. Catlimor took the fong of Fonar in an unfavourable fight, 'flic bards, being of the order of the Druids, who pretended to a foreknowledge of events, were fuppofed to have foine fupernatural pre- fcience of futurity. The king thought, that the clioicc of, Fonar's fang proceeded, from his forefeeing the unfortunate IfTue of the war ; and that his own fate was fliadowed out in that of his anceflor Crothar. The attitude of the bard, aiter the reprimand of ii's patron, is pidturefque and afFeft- ing. We admire the fpeech of Cathmor, but lament the eficcl it has on the feeling foul of the good old poet.
Bcv.i 11. A N E P I C P O E ?,T. 37
Erin deeps around. No llcep comes down on Cathmor's eyes. Dark, in Ivis foul, he faw the fpirit of low-laid Cairbar. He faw him, without his fong, rolled in a blaft of night. He rofe. His Heps were round the holt. He ftruck, at times, hi? echoing fl^'eld. The found reached Odian's ear, on Mora of the hinds.
" Fiilan," I faid, " the foes advance. I hear the fhield of war. Stand thou in the narrcv path. Oifian ihall mark their courfe. If over my fall the Jioli fliall pour ; then be thy buckler heard. Awake the king on his heath, left his fame (hould ceafe." I ftrode, in all my rattling ariris ; wide- bounding over a ftreain that darkly winded, in the field, before the king of Atha. Green Atha's king, with lifted fpear, came forward on my courfe. No^v would we have mixed in horrid fray, like two con- I tending ghofts, that bending forvi-ard, from two I clouds, fend forth tl.e roaring winds; did not OiFian j behcdd, on high, the helmet of Erin's kings. The I eagle's wing fpread above u, ruftling in th,e breeze. i A red ftar looked through the plumes. I ftopt tlie
liftt^d fpear.
ij " The helinet of kings is before me 1 Who art
jj thou, fon of niglit ? Shall Oftian's -ipear be re-
\ nowned, when tliou art lowly-laid?" 7\t once he
dropt ;he gleaming lance. Growing before me feemed
the form. He ftretched his haiid in night ; and fpoks
the words of kings.
" Friend of the fpirit of heroes, do I meet thee thus in Ihndes r I have wKhed for tliy (lately rteps \\\ Atha, in tlie days of feafts. Why (hould ir.y fpear now arifc ? • The (tin mult behold us, Oliian ; when v.e bend, gleaming, in the ftrife. p'urure wairiors fhjil iriark rbe place, and (huddering, think of other years They (hall mark it, like the haunt of ghoih, pleafant and dreadful to the foul.'"'
"• And (liall it be forgot," I faid, " where we meet
in peace i* Is the remembran:e of battles alwavs
Vol. II. D pleafant
38 T E M O R A : Brok II.
pleafant to the foul? Do not we behold, with joy, the place where our fath.ers feafied? But our eyes are full of tears, on the field of the'r wars, '^l his flone ihall rife, with all its inofs, and fpenk to other
years. Here Cnthmor and Offian nitfl the luariion met in p-r.ce! When thou, O ftoiie, (halt fail : and Lubar's Itieam roll quite away ! tiien Ihall the traveller come, and bend here, perhaps, in refl. When the darkened moon is rolled over his liead, our iliadowy forms may come, and, mixing wirh bis dreams, remind him of this place. But why turnelT: thou fo dark away. Ton of Borbar-duthul* ?"
'■ Not forgot, fon of Fingal, fiiall we afcend thefe winds. Our deeds are fti earns of Jight, before the eves of bards. Bu^ durknefs is rolled on Atha : the king is low, without his fong : Ihll there was a beam towards Cathmor from his rtormy foul ; like the n^.oon, in a cloud, amldLt the dark-red courfe of thunder."
"■ Son of Klin," I replied, "my wrath dwells not In his houie f. My hatred flies, on eagle wing, from the foe that is low. He fliall hear the fon^ of: bards ; Cairbar Oiail rejoico on lus winds."
Cathmor'-s f•.^eiling foul arofe : he took the dagger from his fuie ; and placed it gleaming in my liand. Ke })!2ced it, in my har.d, wah figh?, and, filent,
iirode
* Borbar-uut'iiii, ibe furlj warrior rtf the darh- byov.n eyes. '1 hat liis name i'uiied weli with I1I3 cliarader, we niav (.jifily cm, reive, tVom the {h:ry delivered concerning him, bv Maklios, toward tlie end of the fixth beck. He vas tlic brother of that Coiciilia, who is mentioned in he e'/iicde which begins the fourth book.
-j The grave <;itri) poetically called a houfe. This reply of Ollisn abounds wiih the molt ex:dted iehtinjenls of a noble mind. 'J'hoiigh, of all men living, he \\a:S the moll ii)iiired by C-airbar, yet he laid alide his rage as \.\\t fot 'U'lis I'.Ki. How dificren-t is thii from the behaviour of the hcrotsrcf other an^cieat poems. Cjnthliis aurem 'velllu
Bock 11. AN EPIC POETJ. 39
ftrode away. Mine eyes followed his departure. He dimly eleariicd, like the foriTi of a ghofl:, which meets' a traveller by nieht, on the dsrk-fkirted healh. His words are dark l.ke fongsof old: with morning fu-ides the unfinifhed Oiade aivay.
Who * comes from Lubar's vale ? From the fc'ds of the mornins; mift? The drops of heaven are on his head. His lleps are in the paths of t!ie fiJ. It is Carril of other times. He co:r.es frotn Tura's lilent cave. 1 behold it dark in tlie rock, through the thin folds of miCt. There, perhaps, Cuchuihn fit?, on the blarl: which bends its trees. Pleafant is the fong of the morning from the bard of Erin!
" The waves crowd away for fear: they hear the found of thy coming forth, O fun I Terrible is thy beauty, fon oi heaven, when death is folded in tliy locks ; when thou rollcfl: thy vapours before thee, over the blailed hofl. But pleafant is thy beam to the hunter, fitting by the rock in a ilorm, when thou lookeil from thv parted cloud, and brightencit his dewy locks ; he looks down on the llreamy vale, and beholds the defcent of roes. How long flialt thou rife on war, and roll, a bloody fhield, througli heaven? I fee the deaths of heroes dark-wanderiij^- over thy face V
*' Why wander the words of Carri! ! does the fori
of heaven mourn ! he is unfiained in his courfe, ever
rejoicing in his fire. Roil on, thou careleis iii^-hr ;
D 2 tiicu
* The moniir-g oF the fecond day, from the opening cf the poem, comes on. After the death of Cnchullin, Car- ril, the Ion ot Kiutena, his bard, retired to the cnve oi Tura, which was in t!ie neighbourhood cf Moi-lena, ths fcene of the poem of Teinora. His cafual appearance iiere enables OiiKin to fulfil immediately the promifc he had made to Cathmor, of canfiiip: the funeral fong to be pro- nounced over the tomb of Cairbar. This book takes up only the fpacc of a few hours.
40 T E M C R A : Book If.
tilou too, perhaps, muft fall. Thy dun robe * may i'eize tiiee, ftruggling, in thy fJ-iy.
" Pieafant is the voice of tlie fong, O Carril, to OfTian's foul ! It is like the fhovver of the morning, v.licn it comes through tlie rullling vale, on which the fun looks through mill, jud rifirig from his rocks. But this is no time, O hard, to fit down, at the flrife cf fong. P'ingal is in arms on the vale. 1 hou feefl the flaming fnield of the king. His face darkens between h-s locks. He beholds the wide rolling of Erin.
'■' Does not Carril behold that tomb, befide the roaring ftrcam ? Three froncs lift their gray heads, beneath a bending oak. A king is lowly laid : give thou his foul to the wind. He is the brother of Cathmor ! open- his airy hall. Let thy fong be a ftieam of joy to Cairbar's darkened ghoft."
TEMORA :
* By the dua rcbc of Xht fun, is probably meant an ecltpfc.
T E xM O R A:
AN
EPIC FOE M.
THE ARGUMEN T. Morning coming on, Fitigal. after a fpeech to Iii'; peojile, diivolves the ci'mr.i:;n(l on Caul, the fen of Morni } it being the cullom of the times, .that tlie kiu,^ fhoiild not enna^e, till the necelHty of affciir-- required his fuperior valour and condart. The king and Ofiian retire to the rock of CormuJ, which overli^okecl tlie field of battle.- The bards ling the war-fong. The general conflict is dcfcribed Gaul, the (on of iVIorni, diftini^uidies hiinf'elf; kills Tiir-!athon, chief of Morutli, and otlier chef^ of Ic-ffer name. On tiie other hand, Foldath, who coramanded the Iridi army (forCath- mor-^ a'.ter the example of Finj^a', kept himfclf from battle) fights gallantly; kil's Connai, chief of Dunlora, and ad- v-»nce<; to eiigApe Gaid himself. Gaul, in th3 mean time, bein<^ \voi»nded in he lumd, by a random ariow, is covered by Flllan, the fon of Fmgal, -.x ho pe; forms prodigies of valour Night comes on The horn of Fingal recalls his his ariny. The bards meet them, with a congratulatory foniv, ill which the praifes ni' G.iul and Fillan are particu- larly celebrated. The chiefs fit down at a fead j Fingul miilrs Counal. The epifjde of Coniial and Datijcanm is intrj- duced , which throws further light on the ancient hillory of Ireland- Carril is dilpatched to raii'e the tomb of Ccnr.al, The aJtion of tliis bj^k takes up the fecund day, from the- opening of the poem
BOOK III.
WHO is that, at blue-f^reaming Lubar ; by the bending hill of the roes ? TaJJ, he leans on an oak torn from high, by nightly winds. V/ho but Coinhal's fon, brightening in the laA of his ifidds ? His gray hair is on the breeze: he half un- jflieathes the fword of Luno, His eyes arc turned to iMoi-lcr.a, to the di^rk-rolling cA foes. Doli thou hear tlie voice of the king ? It is Uke tlie burrting of a ftream, in the defart, wiien it coirses between its echoing rocks, to the biafted field of the (un.
D 3 5 '^ Wide ■
42 T E M 0 R A ; Bock III.
'- Wide-fkiited comes dov;n the foe ! Sons of woody Morven, arife. Be ye like the rocks of my 1 .nd, oil whofe brown fides are the rolling of waters. A beam of joy comes on my foul j I fee them mighty before me. It is wlien the foe is feeble, that the fighs of Fingal are heard ; left death fhou!d come, without renov.n, and darknefs dwell on his tomb. Who fliali lead the war, againft the hoft of Alnecma ? It is only when danger grows, that my fword fnall Ihine. Such was the cuflom, heretofore, of Tren- n-.or the ruler of winds: and thus defcended to battle the blut-fiiieldcd Trathal."
The chiefs bend towards the king: each darkly foems to claim the war. They tell, by halves, their Xiiighty deeds: and turn their eyes on Erin. But far before the reft: the fon of Morni ftood : filent he f:ocd, for who had not heard of the battles of GauJ ? They rofe within his foul. His liand, in fecret, feized the fword. 1 he fword which he brought from Strmnon, when the ftrength of Morni failed*.
* Stnimon, fiream of the hiJU the name of the feat cf the family of Gaul, in the neighbourhood of Selma. During Gaul's expedition to Troniathon, mentioned in the foem cf Oiiboiia, Morni his father died. Morni ordered the f'u.'ord of Strunicn, (which had been prcferved, in the f unily, as a relique, fiom the days of Colgach the moft renowned of his anceftors) to be laid by his fide, in the tomb : at the fame time, leaving it in ch; rgc to his fon, not to take it from thence, till he was reduced to t!ie laft extremity. Not long after, two of his brothers being {lain, in battle, by Coldaronnan, chief of Clutha, Gaul vent to liis father's tomb to take the fword. His addrcfs to tlie fpirit of the deceafcd hero, is the only part now remaining, of a poem of Ofiian, on the fubjeift. I iliall here by it before the reader.
Gciiil. '• Breaker of echoing fliietds, whofe head is deep in fiiadcs ; hear me ficni tlie darlftiefs of Cloraj O fon of Celgach. hear 1
No
Book HI. A N E P I C P O E M. 43
On his fpear frood the fon of Clatho* in tlie wandering of his locks. Thrice he raifed his eyes lo Fingal : his voice thrice failed hiin, as he fpoke. Fillan could not boart of battles ; at once he rtrode away. Bent over a dillant ftream he ftood : the tear hung in his eye. He ftruck, at times, the thiftle's head, with his inverted fpear.
Nor is he unfeen of Fingal. Sidelong he beheld his fon. He beheld him, with burfting joy ; and turned, amidA his crowded foul, in filence turned
the
No ruftling, lite the eagle's wing, comes over the courfc ef my ftieams. Deep-bofomcd in tlic mift of the dcf;irt, O king of Strumon, hear!
Dwcl'.eU thou in the ftiadowy breeze, that pours its dark vave over tlie grafs : Ceafe to ftrew the beard of the thifile? O chief of Clora, hear 1
Or ndeft thou on a beam, amidft the dark trouble of clouds ? Pourcfi thou the loud wind on feas, to roll their blue waves ever iiles ? hear nie, father of Gaul ; amidll thy terrors, hear !
The ruftiing of eagles is heard, the murnniring oaks fliake their heads on the hills ; dreadful and pleafant is thy approach, friend of the dwelling of heroes.
I^Iornu Who awakes me, in the midd of my cloud, where my locks of mift fpread on the winds? Mixed with tJie nolfe of fireams, whv rifes the voice of Gaul ?
Gaul. My foes are around me, Morni : their d^rk lliips defcend from their waves. Give the Iword of Strumon, that beam which thou hidcfl; in thy night.
Mcirni. Take the fword of rcfounding Strumon ; I look on thy war, mv fon ; I lo k, a dim meteor, from my cloud ': blue-fliiel'dcd Gaul, dellroy."
* Clatho was the daughter of Gathulla, king of IniRore. Fingal, in one of his expeditions to that ifland, fell in love with Clatho, and took her to wife, after the death of Ros- crana, the daughter of Gormac, king of Ireland.
Clatho was the mother of Ryno, Fillan, and Bofmina, mentioned in the Battle nj J^ora, Fiilan is often called the fon of Clatlio, to diftinguifti him from thofc fens which Fingal had by Ros-ciana.
44 T £ M O R A : Book lit.
the king towards Mora of woods. He hid the big tear with his locks. At leneth his voice is heard.
" Firft oi the fons of M rni ; thou rock that defied tile ftonn ! Lead thou my battle, for the race of low-laid Cormac. No boy's ftafF is thy fpear : no h:ir;nlefs beam of light thy fword. Son of Morni of ftecds, behold the foe ; defbroy. Fillan, obferve the chief; he is not cairn in iirife: nor burns he, heedlefs, in battle ; my fon, obferve the king. He is ftrong as Lubar's flream, but never foams and roars. High on cloudy Mora, Fingal fhall behold the war. Stand, Ofiian*, near thy father, by the falling ibeam. Raife the voice, O barids ; Morven, move bencaih the found, it is rny latter field \ clothe it over with 'light."
As the fudden rifing of winds; or didant rolling', of troul-)led ftas, when fome dark gliod, in wrath, . h-'avcs the billows over an .ifle, the feat of mift, on the deep, for many dark-brown years : fo terrible is the found of' the hoft, wide^-moving over the field, (laul i.s tali before them : the fbeams glitter within his ftrides. The bards raifed the fong by his fide ; lie ibuck his ihiold betwe^^n. On the ficnts of the blall, tlie tuneful voices rofe.
On Crona, faid the bards, there burfis a flream by night. It fwells, in its own dark courfe, till mor- ning's early beam. Then comes it white from the hill, with the rocks and their hundred groves. Far be my fteps from Crona : Death is tumbling there. Be ye a flreair. from Mora, fons of cloudy Morven. .
'* Who rifes, from his car, on Clutha ? the h lis are troubled before the king ! I'he dark woods echo round, and lighten at hisftecl.. See him.; amidft the foe, like Colgach'sf fportful ghofl } when he fcatttrs
the
* Ullin being fetit to Morveii with the body of Ofcavj Ofiian attenrs his f;\tber, iu quality of chief bard.
t Thtre are foTnc traditions, but, I believe,, of late invention, that this Colgjich was the fame with tl e Gal-
gacus
Book III. AN EPIC POEM. 45
the clouds and rides the eddying wings \ It is Morni* of the bounding fteeds ! Ik like thy father, Gaul !
" Selma is opened wide. Bards take the trem- bling harps. Ten youths carry the oak of the feaft. A diftani fun beam marks the hill. The dufky waves of the blaft fly over the fields of grafs. Why art thou fo filent, Morven ? 1 he king returns with all his fame. Did not the battle roar : yet peaceful is his brow r It roared, and Fingal overcame. Be like thy father, Fillan."
They moved beneath the fong. High waved their arms, as rufhy fields, beneath autumnal winds. On Mora flood the king in arms. Mift flies round his buckler broad, as, aloft, it hung on a bow, on Cormul's moffy rock. In fllence 1 flood by Fingal, and turned my eyes on Cromla's f wood : left I
fiiould
gacus of Tacitus. He was the anccRor of Gaul, the fon cf MornI, and appears, from fo:ne, really ancient, tra- ditions, to have been king, or Vergobret, of the Caled':- rians ; and hence proceeded the pretenfions of the family of Morni to the throne, which created a good deal of dlfturbance, both to Comhal and his fon Fingal. The firft vas killed in battle by that tribe ; and it was afcer Fingal was grown up, that they were reduced to obedience. Colgach 'i!\gn\iits fiercely-looking ; which is a very proper came for a warrior, and is probably the origin of Galga- ciis ; tlio' I believe it a matter of mere conjedliire, that the Colgach here mentioned was the fame with that hero. 1 cannot help ob'.ervhig, with how much propriety the fong of the bards is conduAtd. Gaul, whofe experience might have rendered his conduft cautious in war, lias tlie example of his father, ji ft rufliing to battle, fet before his eyes. FiHan, on the other hand, whofe youth might make him I impetuous and unguarded in a.!\ion, is put in mind of the icdate and ferciic beliaviour of Fingal upon like orcafions. * The expedition of Murnl to Clutha, alluded to, is handed down in tradition.
+ The mountain Cromla was in the neighbourhood of the fceuc of this poem ; which was nearly the fame with that of Fir.gal.
4^ T F. M 0 R A : Book HI.
fliould behold the hoft, and rufli amidft my fwelling fou!. My foot is forward on the heath. ] gJitttred^ tall in fleel: like the falling ftream of Tromo, which nightly winds bind over with ice. The boy fees ir, on high, gleaming to the early beam : towards it he. turns his ear, and wonders why it is fo fi'ent.
Nor bent over a llream is Cathmor, hke a youth in a peaceful field : wide he drew forward the war, a- dark and troubled wave. But when he beheld Fingal on Mora, iiis generous pride arofe. " Sha'i the chief of Atha fight, and no king in the field ? Fol- dath lead my people forth, I'hou art a beam of fire."
Forth iflued the chief of Moma, like a cloud, the robe of ghofls. He drew his fword, a l^ame, from his fide ; and bad.? the battle move. The tribes,- hke ridgy waves, dark pour their flrengih around. Haughty is his ffride before them :. his red eye rolls- in wrath. He called the chief of Dunratho * ; and his words were heard.
" Cormul, thoa beholded that path. It winds green behind the foe. Place thy people there.;, left .Morven fnould efcape from my fword. Bards of green-valleyed Erin, let no voice of yours arife. The fons of Morven muft fall without fong. They are the foes of Cairbar. Hereafter fhall the traveller meet their dark, thick mill on Lena, where it wan- de."s, with their gholis, befide the reedy lake. Never
fhall
*■ Dun-ratbo, a hill iv'.th a Jflain on Its top. Cor- muil, blue eye. Foldath difpat'-lies, liere, Cormul to lie in ambufh behind the army of the. Caledoniaus. This fpeech, fults well with the clwrailer of Foldath, which is, throughout, haughty and prciumpruous. Towards the latter end of his fpeech, we find the opinion of tlie times, concerning the unliappinefs of the fouls of thole who were buried without the funeral Cong. Tins dodrine, no doubf, was inculcated by the bards, t© inaiic their order relpeclable and neceffarv.
Boci III. A N H P I C P O E M. 47
ftiall they rife, without fong, to the dwelling of winds."
Cormul darkened, as he went : behind hiin rufhed his tribe. They funk beyond the rock: Gaul fpoke to Fillan of Ivloruth ; as his eye purfued the courfe of the dark-eyed king of 13unratho, " J^hou be- ]ioIdeft the lleps of Cormul ; let thine arm be flrong. When he is low, fon of FingaJ, remember Gaul in war. Here 1 faJl forward into battle, amidll the lidge of {hields."
The fign of death arofe : the dreadful found of Morni's (hield. Gaul poured his voice between. Fingal rofe, high on Mora. He faw them from wing to wing, benciing in the ftrife. Gleaming, on his own dark hill, the ftrength of Atha rtood. They were like two fpirits of heaven, ftanding each on his .gloomy cloud; when they pour abroad the winds, and lift the roaring feas. The blue-tumbling of waves is before them, marked with the paths of whales. Themfelves are calm and bright j and the gale lifts their locks of mift.
What beam of light hangs high in air? It is Morni's dreadful fwcrd. Death is ftrewed on thy paths, C) (jaul ; thou fokleft them together in thy rage. Like a young oak falls 'I'ur-iathon *, with his branches round him. His high-bofomed fpoufe ft! etches h^r white anris, in dreams, to the returning king, as (he ileeps bv gurgling A'loruth, in her difordered locks. It is h,s gholf, Oichoma ; the chief is lowly laid. Hearken not to the winds for Tur.ath.on'-s echoing (hieid. It is pierced, by his ft.'-eatns, and its found is pail: away.
Not peaceful is the hand of Foldath : he winds his courle m blood. Connal met him in nghr ; they niixed their clanging fleei. Why (hould mine eyes
behold
* Tur-Iatlion, broad trunk of a tree. Moruth, gretjt \Jiream. Oichaoma, mild maid. Dun-Joia, the. kill of \ tbc T.:if\ Jircani. Duth-caron, dark-bro'j.n via;:.
48 T E M O R A : Book in.
behold them ! Conna!, thy locks are gray. 7'hou wert the friend of ftrangers, at the mofs- covered rock of Dun-lora. When the fkies were rolled together; then thy feaft was fpread. The ftranger heard the winds without ; and rejoiced at thy burning oak. Why, fon of Dutli-caron, art thou laid in blood ! The blafted tree bends above thee: thy (hield lies broken near. Thy blood mixes with the liream; thou breaker of the (hields !
1 took the fpear, in my wrath ; but Gaul ruflied forward on the foe. The feeble pafs by his fide ; his rage is turned on Moma's chief. Now they had raifed their deathful fpears; unfeen an arrow came. It pierced the hand of Gaul; his fteel fell founding to earth. Young Fillan came*, with Cormul's (hield, and ftretched it large before the king. Fol- dath lent his ihout abroad, and kindled all the field: as a blail that lifts the broad winged (iame, over Lumon's f echoing groves.
" Son of blue-eyed Clatho," faid Gaul, " thou art a beam from heaven ; that coining on the troubled deep, binds up the tempeli's wing, Cormul is fallen before thee. Eaily art thou in the fame of thy fa- thers. RulTi not too far, my hero, I cannot lift the fpear to aid. I ftand harmkfs in battle: but my voice (hall be poured abroad. The fons of Morven Qiall hear, and remember my former deeds."
His terrible voice rofe on the wind, the hoft bend forward in the fiiht. Often had they heard him, at Strumon, when he called them to the chafe of the hinds. Hiujielfitood tail, amidrt the war, as an oak
in
* Fillin had been dirjDatched by Gaul to oppofe Cormul, who liad been lent bv FolJath to lie in anibulh behind the Caledonian arnu'. It appears that Fillaii had killed Cor- mul, othcrwile he could not be fuppofed to have poffellcd himfclf of the flueld of tliat chief.
t Lumon, bending hill ; a mountain in Tnnis-huna, er that part of South-Britain which is over-aga.nft the Iriih coafU
Biok 111. A N E P I C P O E M. 49
in the fkirts of a ftorm, which now is cloihed, on high, in mift: then ftiews its broad, waving head; the mufing hunter lifts his eye from his own ruihy field.
My fou! purfues thee, O Fillan, through the path of tliy fame. Thou rolledrt the foe before thee. Now Foldath, perhaps, would fiy ; but night came down with its clouds; and Cathmor's horn was heard. The fons of Morven heard the voice of Finga!, from iMora's gathered mifl:. The bards poured their fong, like dew, on the returning war.
" Who comes from Strumon," they faid, "amidft her wandering locks ? She is mournful in her fteps, and lifts her blue eyes towards Erin. Why art thou fad, Evirchoma* } Who is like thy chief in renown ? He defcended dreadful to battle ; he returns, like a light from a cloud. He lifted the fword in wrath: they fhrunk before blue-lhielded Gaul !
" Joy, like the ruilling gale, comes on the foul of the kiiig. He remembers the battles of old ; ths days, wherein h.s fathers fought. The days of old return on Fingal's mind, as he beholds the renown of his fon. As the fun rejoices, from his cloud, ever the tree his beams have railed, as it fjiakes its lonvly head on the heath ; fo joyful is the king over Fillan.
" As the rolling of thunder on hills, when Lara's fitlds are ftiU and dark, fuch are the fieps of Morven pleafant and dreadful to the ear. I'hey return with their found, like eagles to their dark-browed rock, after the prey is torn on the field, the dun fons of the bounding hind. Your fathers rejoice from their clouds, fons of ftreamy Cona."
Such was the nightly voice of bards, on Pvlora of the hinds. A flame rofe, from an hundred oaks,
Vol. IJ, E which
* Evir-choama, mild and Jiately maid, the wife of Gaul. She was the daughter of Cafdu-conglas, c lief of I-droiilo, one of the Hebrides.
50 T £ J\I O R A : Buoh. HI.
which winds had torn from Cormui's fteep. The fealt ii fpread in the mill : around fat the gleaming chiefs. Fingal is there in his ihength ; the eagle- wing* of his hehnet founds: the ruilling b'ails cf tlie weft, unequal rullied through night. Long looked the king in fiience round : at length his words were heard.
" My foul feels a want in our jc)'. I behold a breach among my friends. The head of one tree is low: the fqually wind pours in on Selma. Where is tlie chief of Dunlcra ! Ought he to be forgot at the fcall ? V, hen did he forget the ftranger, Tn the midft of his echoing hail ? Ye are filent in my pre- fence ! Connal is then no more. Joy meet thee, O warrior, like a flream of light. Swfft be thy courfe to thy fathers, in the folds of the mountain- winds. ClFian, thy ibul is fire: kindJe the memory cf the king. Awake the battles of Connal, when fjifl he (hone in war. The locks of Connal were gray ; his days of youth \ were mixed with mine. In one day Duth-caron iirll jliung our bows againft the roes of Dun-loja."
« Many,"
* The Liijgs of Tvlorveii and L'eland hp.d a plume of e.-glc's leathers, by way of ornament, in their hehnets. ]t was from th.is diftirgiiiflied inj.rk that Oliiaii knew Ca tinner, in the fecond boc^k.
t After the death of Comha!, and during the tifurpatioii of the tribe of Morni, Fingal was educated in private by Tjuth-caron. It was then he contratltd that intimacy, wiih Connal the Ton of Duth-caron, which orcafions his, regretting fo miub his fa!. When Fingal was grown up, Ise fcon reduced tlie tribe of Morni ; and, as it appears fri m tie fubftcjuent -epilode, fent Duth-caron and his fon Con.nal to the aid of Cormac, the fon of Conar, king of Lrcland, who was driven to the lafl extremity, by the in- (.brreftions of the Fir-bolg. This epifode throws farther light on the crnttlrs between the Cad and Fir-bolg ; and is the more valuable uoon tliat account.
Book III. A N E P I C F O E M. 5 I
*' Many," I faid, " are our paths to battle, ia green- hilJed Innis fail. Ofren did our fails arife, over the blue -tumbling waters; v.hen we came, in other days, to aid the race of Conar. Tht ftrife roared once in Alnccma, at the foam -covered llreams of J3uth-u;a*. With Cormac dtfcend.^d to battle Duth-caroa from cloudy Morven. Nor defcended Duth-caron alone, his fon was by his fide, the long- haired youth of Connal, lifting the firft of his fpears. 7"hou didd command ihem, O Fingal, to aid t!ie king of Erin.
" Like the burfiing ftrengtli of a il/earn, tlie fons of Bolga ruChed to war: Co!c-ulla f was before them, the chief of bkie-ftreaming Ati.a. The battle was mixed on the plain, like the meeting of two ftormy feas. Cormac % flione in. his own ftrife, £ 2. bright
* Duth-ula. a river in Coniuught ; it figulfies, dark- rujliing water.
+ CoIc-uUa, frm lock in rcadlnefs ; he was tlie bro- ther of Borbar-duthiil, the father of Cairbar and Cathmor, who, after the death of Cormac the fon of Artho, fuc- cefilvely mounted the liilli throne.
I Corniar, the fon of Conar, the fecond king of Ireland, cf the race of the Caledonians. This infuneclion of tlie Flr-bolg happened towards the latter end of the long reign of Cormac. From feveral epifodes and poems, it appears, that he never poffefied the l;ilh throne peaceably. The party of t'.ie fainily of Atha had made fevc-al attempts to overturn the fucceffion in the race of Conar, before they cTccled it, in the minority of Cormac, the fon of Artho. Ireland, from the mofl ancient accounts concerning i', feems to have been always fo dlflurbed by domefiic com- iv.otions, that it is difficult to fay, whether it ever wn', for any length of time, fubjefl to one monarch. It is certain, that every nrovince, if not every final! difuifl, had its own king. One of thofe petty princes alTumed, at times, the title of king of Ireland, and, on account of his fuperior force, or in cafes of public danger, was acknow- ledged
52 temora: BooA 11/.
bright as the forms of his fathers. But, far before the reft, Duth-caron hewed down the foe. Nor flept the arm of Connal, by his father's fide. Atha prevailed on the plain : like fcattered mill, fled the people of Ullin. *
" 'T'hen rofe the fword of Duth-caron, and the fteel of broad- fnielded Connal. Thev (haded their flying friends, like two rocks with their heads of pine. Night came down on Duth-ula : filent ftrode the cliicfs over the field. A mountain ftream roared acrofs the path, nor could Duth-caron bound over its courfe. Why ftands oiy father:" faid Connal, *" I hear the rulTiing foe."
" Fly, Connal," he faid ; " thy father's ftrength begins to fail. I come wounded from battle ; here Jet me reft in night. " But thou (halt not remain alone, faid Connsl's burfting figh. My (liield is an eagle's wing to- cover the king of Dun-lora." Ke bends dark above the chief: the mighty Duth-caron dies.
" Day rofc, and night returned. No lonely bard appeared, deep-mufing on the heath : and could Connal lea\e the tomb of his father, till be (hould receive his fame ? He bent the bow againft the roes of Duth-ula; he fpread the lonely feaft. Seven nights he laid his head on the tomb, and faw his father in his dreams. He faw him rolled dark, in a blaftj like the vapour of reedy Lego. At length the
fteps
Jcdged by the refl as fuch ; but the fuecefTion, from fatl.er to Ion, dofs not appenr to Iiave been ef^abliOied. It v/as the divilions amongR themfches, ariling from the bad con- llitiition of their government, that, at laft, fubjcdled the Irifh to a foreign yoke.
* The inhabitants of Ullin or Ulfter, who were of tlie ^ace of the Caledonians, feem, alone, to have been the firm fiiends to the fuccefnon in the family of Conar. The Fir-bolg were only fiibjefl to them bv conftraint, and em- braced every opportunity to throw off their yoke.
r 0 1- M. |
53 |
|
bard of higl |
Teniora. |
|
s, and brightened, |
as he |
Book 111. A N E
fteps of CoJgan* came, tiie Duth-caron received his fame, rofe on the wind."
" I'leafant to the ear," faid Fingal, " is the praife
of the kings of men j when their bows are fiirong in
E 3 bat'tlej
* Colgan, tlie fon of Cathinul, was the principal bard of Cormac Mac-Conar, king of Ireland. Part of an old poem, on the loves of Fingal and Rcs-crana, is flill pre- Icrved, r.nd goes under t!ie name of this Colgan ; but whether it is of his compofitlon, or the production of a later age, I fliall not pretend to determine. Be that as it will, it appears, from the obfolete phrafes which it con- trains, to be very ancient ; and its poetical merit may pei- haps excnfe me, for laying a tranilation of it before tlic reader. What remains of the poem is a dialogue in a lyric meafurc, between Fingal and Ros-crana, the daughter of Cormac. She begins with a foliloquy, which is over- heard by Fingal.
Tios-crana, " By night, came a dream to Rcs-crana ! I ftel my beating foul. No vifion of the forms of the dead, came to the blue eyes of Erin. But, rifing from the wave of the north, 1 beheld him bright in his locks. I beheld the fon of the king. INly beating foul is high. I laid my head down in night ; again afcended the form. Why delayed thou thy coming, young rider of ftreamy waves 1
But, there, far-difiant, he comes ; where feas roll their green ridges in niift ! Young dweller cf my foul ; why dofl thou delay.
Fingal. It was the fofc voice of Moi-lena ! the pleafant breeze of the valley of roes 1 But Vv hy doft thcu hide thee in fnades? Young love of heroes rife. Are not thy fleps covered with light? In thy groves thou appeareft. Res-- crana, like the fun in the gathering of clouds. Why doft thou hide thee in fliades ? Young love of heroes rife.
Ros-crana. My fluttering foul is high ! Let me turn from, the fteps of the king. Ke has heard my fecret voire, and fliall my blue eyes roll, in his prefence 1 Roe of the hill of mofs, toward thy dwelling I move. Meet me,
yc
54 T E I.I 0 R A : Book III.
battle ; when they foften at the light of the fad. 1 hus let my name be renowned, when bards Ihall ligiiten my rifing foul. Carril, fon of Kinfena ; take the bards and raife a tomb. To night let Connal dwell, within his narrow houfe : let not the foul of the valiant wander on the winds. Faint glimmers the moon on A4oi-lena, through the broad-headed groves of the hill : raife ftones, beneath its beams, to all the fallen in war. Though no chiefs were they, yet their hands were ftrong in fight. They were my rock in danger : the mountain from which I fpread my eagle-v;ings. Thence am I renowned : Carril forget net the low."
Loud, at once, from the hundred bards, rofe the fong of the tomb. Carril ftrode before them ; they are the murmur of ftreams behind him. Silence dwells in the vales of Moi-lena, where each, with its own dark ftream, is winding between the hills. I heard the voice of the bards, leflening, as they moved along. I leaned forward from my ihield ; and felt the kindling of my foul. Half-formed the words of my fong, burfl forth upon the wind. So hears a tree, on the vale, the voice of fpring around: it pours its green leaves to the fun, and Ihakes its lonely head. The hum of the mountain bee is near
■itj
ye breezes of Mora, as I inove thro' the valley of winds. But why Oiould he afcend his ocean ? Son of heroes, my foul is thine ! My fteps ihal! not move to the defart : the light of Ros-crana is here^
Fhigal. It Mas the light tread of a ghoft, the fair dweller of eddying winds. Why deceiveft thou me, with thy voice ? Here let me reft in iliades. Shouldft thou Itrctch thy white arm, from thy grove, thou fun-beam of Cormac of Erin !
Ros-crana. He is gone 1 and my blue eyes are dim : fr.int rolling, in all my tea:;. Rut, there, I behold him, iloue; king bf Morven, my foul is thine. Ah me I -hat clanging of armour 1 Colc-iilla of Atha is near 1"
Bijok III. A N E P I C P O E M. 55
it ; the hunter fees it, with joy, from the biafted heath.
Young Fillan, at a diftance flood. His helmet lay- glittering on the ground. His dark hair is loofe to ttie blaft : a beam of light is Clatho's fon. He heard the words of the king with joy; and leaned forward on his fpear.
•' My fon," faid car-borne Fingal ; " I faw thy deeds, and my foul was glad. The fame of our fathers, I faid, burfts from its gathered cloud. Thou art brave, fon of Clatho ; but headlong in the ftrife. So did not Fingal advance, though he never feared a foe. Let thy people be a ridge behind ; they are thy Itrength in the field. Then Ihalt thou be long re- nowned, and behold the tombs of thy fathers. The memory of the part returns, my deeds in other years: when firft I defcended from ocean on the green- valleyed ifle. We bend towards the voice of the king. The moon looks abroad from her cloud. The gray-fkirted mift is near, the dwelling of the ghofts.
TEMORA
T E M O R A:
AN
EPIC P O E iM.
THE ARGUMENT.
The fecord night continues. Fingal relates, at the feaft, his own fivll expedition into Ireland, and hU marriage with Ros-crana, ihc daughter of Corniac, king ol' thcit ifland. The Irifh ch'efs con-ene in the prefence of Cnthmor. The fituation of tl;e king elefcribed. Tie ftory of Sal mal'a, the daughter of Conmor, kin;; of Inis huna, who, in the oii^ guifc of a young warrior, had followed Cathmor to tlie war. The fulltn behaviour of Foldath, who had commanded in the battle of the preceding day, renews the diffeieiice be- tween him and Malthos; but Cathmor, interpofing, ends it. The chiefs feaft, and hear the long oC Funar the baid, Cathmor returns to reft, at a diftar.ce from the army. The g,hofl of his brother Cairbar ai:pears to him in adre-jm, and ob curely foretels the ifTue oi' the war. T!ie fuliloquy of the k'ng He difcovers Sul mal!ai Morcicg comes, ilur foliloquy doles the book.
EC OK IV.
BENEATH* an oak," {"aid the king, "I fat on Selma's ftreamy rock, when Connal rofe, frciii ttie iea, with the broken fpear of Duth-caron. Far-diftant ftocd the youth, and turned away his eyes ; for he remembered the fleps ct his father, on his own green hills. I darkened in my place: dufky
thoughts
• This cplfode has an iirsmediate connexion with the ftory of Connal and Duth-caron, in the latter end ot the third bock. Fingal, fitting beneath an oak, near the palace of Selma, difcovers Connal jufl landing froni Ire- land. The danger which threatened Cormac king of Ireland Induces him to fail immediately to that ifland. The ilory is introduced, by the king, as a pattern for the future be- haviour of Fillan, svhofe ralbncls in the preceding battle is repriniandedi
58 temora: Bo.?i ir.
thoughts rolled over my foul. The kings of Erin rofs before me. I half-unrtieathed my fvvord. Slowly approached the chiefs ; they lifted up their filent eyes. Like a ridge of clouds, they v/ait for the burfting forth of my voice: it was to them, a wind from heaven, to roll the mifl away.
''• I bade my white fails to rife, before the roar of Cona's wind. Three hundred youths looked, from their waves, on Fingal's boffy (liield. High on the mart it hung, and marked the dark-blue fea. But whea the night came down, I ("truck, at times, the warning bofs : I ftruck, and looked on high, for fiery-haired Ul-lerin*. Nor wanting was the ftar of J'.eavcn : It travelled red between the clouds : I pur- fued the lovely beam, on the faint-gleaming deep. With morning, Erin rofe in milt. We came into the bay of Moi-lena, where its blue waters tumbled, in the bofom of echoing woods. Here Cormac, in his fecret hall, avoided the firength of Colculla. Nor he alone avoids the ioc : the blue eye of Ros- ciina is th?re: PvOs-cranaf, white-handed maid, the daugliter of the king.
'• Gray, on his polntlefs fpear, came forth t'le aged fteps of Cormac. He fmiled, from his waving locks, but grief was in his foul. He hv.' us k\v be- fore him, and his figh arofe. " I fee the arms of Trenmor," he faid ; " and thefe are the fteps of the king ! Fingal ! thou art a beam of light to Cormac's
darkened
* Ul-erin, tbe gii'iJe to Irehmd, a flar known by th-it name in the days <.if Fingal, and very iifeful to tboie who filled, by night, from the Hebrides, or Caledonia, to the coaft of Ulrter.
t Ros crana, the beam ef the r'lf.ng fun ; f!ie was the mother of Olfian. The Iiilh bauis relate ftrangc ficliov.s concerning this priiicefs. "i'lieir frories, lowevLr, concerning Fingal, if they mean him bv I'lon Mac- Comnal, are fo inconfiftent and notoriuufiy fabulous, that they do not deferve to be mentioned ; for they evidently bt'ar, along with them, the marks of Utc invention.
Booi ir. A N E P I C P O E IvI. 59
daikened fou!. Early is thy fame, my (on: but ftrong are the foes of Erin. They are Lke the roar of ftreams in the land, fon of car-borne Comhal."
" Yet they may be rolled* away," I faid, in my rifing foi:h " We are not of the race of the feeble, king of blr:e-(hie!ded holh. Why fliould fear come ajvicngft us, like a gl^oil of night ? The foul of the valianl grows, as foes increafe in the field. Roll no darknefs, king of Erin, on the young in war."
" Tlie burfting tears of the king came down. PJe felzed my hands in filence. " Race of the daring Trjsnmor, 1 roll no cloud before thee. Thou burnell in the fire of thy fathers. 1 behold thy fame. It marks thy courfe in battles, like a ftream cf light. But wail the coming of Cairbar f : my fon mull join thy fword. He Culls the fons ©f Uilin, from all their diilant flreams."
'"• We came to the hall of the king, where it rofe in the midft of rocks : rocks, on whofe dark fides, were the marks of rtream.s of old. Broad osks bend around with their mofs : the thick birch waves its green head. Kalf-hid, in her Ihudy grove, Ros- -cruna railed tlie for.g. Her v^hiie hands rofe on the
harp.
' Cormac br.d faid that his ices were like the rear of JJrcants, and Fingal continues the metaphcr. The fpeech t'f the young hero is fpiritcd, and cohfirteat with that ic- date intrepidity, which eminently diftinguilhes his character throughout.
t Cairbar, the fon of Cormar, was aft r wards king of ilrelaiid. itiis reign was fhoit. He was fucceeded by his fon Artho, the faiher of that Crnnac who was murdered by Cairbar tlie fen of Borbar-duthiil. Cairbar, the fon of ('uimac, long after his fon Ariho was grown to man's :-flate, had, by his wife Beltanno, another fon, whofe inair;e was Ferard-artho, He was the oaly one remaining of tlie race of Conar the firft king of Ireland, when Fingal's expedition againft Cairbar the fon of Boibar- {duthul liappened. S-:e more of Ferard-artho in the cigliih boL k.
60 T E M O R A : Book IK,
harp. I beheld her blue- rolling eyes. She was like a fpirit * of heaven half folded in the fkirt of a cloud.
" Three days we feafted at Moi-lena; flie rofe bright amidft my troubled foul. Cormac beheld me dark. He gave the white-bofomed maid. She came with bending eye, amidft the wandering of her heavy jocks. She came. Straight the battle roared. Colc- ulla rufhed ; 1 feized my fpear. My fword rofe,
with
* The attitude of Ros-crana is aptly illuflrated by this fiinile ; for the ideas of th<ife times, concerning the fpirits of the deceafed, were not fo glooiny and difagreeable, as thofe of fucceeding ages. The fpirits of women, it was fiippofed, retained that beauty, which they poffcfftd while living, and tranfported themfelvcs, from place to place, with that gliding motion, wh'ch Homer afcribes to the gods. The defc'iptions which poets, lefs ancient than Offian, have left us of thofe beautiful figures, that appeared fometime on the hills, are elegant and picturefc^ue. They compare them to the rahi-boiv oji Jirt\nns : or the gild' ing of fun-beams on ibe hills,
A chief who lived three centuries ago, returning from the war, underlfood that his wife or miflrefs v.as dead. The bard introduces him fpeaking the following foliloquy, when he came, within fight of the place, where he had left her, at his departure.
" My foul darkens in forrow. I behold not the fniokc of my hall. No gray dog bounds at my ftrcams. Silence dwells in the valley of trees.
" Is that a rain-bow on Crunath ? It flies : and the iky is dark. Again, thou moved, bright on the heath, thou fun-beam clol-lied in a fliower ! Ha ! it is flie, my love : her gliding courfc on the bofom of winds 1"
In fucceeding times the beauty of Ros-crana paffed Into a proverb ; and the higheft compliment, that could be paid to a woman, was to compare her perfon with the daughter of Cormac.
'S tu fein an Ros-crana. Sio! Chormaec na n'ioma Ian.
Book. IF A ^f EPIC POEM. 6 1
■with my people, againft the ridgy foe. AInecma fled. Colc-ulla fell. Fingal returned with fame.
« He is renowned, O Fillan, who fights, in the ftrength of his people. The bard puriues his ft:eps, through the land of the foe. But he who fights alone ; few are his deeds to other times. He Hiines, to-day, a mighty light. To- morrow, he is low. One fong contains his fame. His name on one dark field. He is forgot, but where his tomb fends forth the tufts of grafs."
Such were the words of Fingal, on Mora of the. roes. Three bards, from the rock of Cormul, poured down the pleafant fong. Sleep defcended, in the found, on the broad-fkirted hofl. Carril returned, with the bards, from the tomb of Dun-lora's king. The voice of morning fliall not come, to the dufky bed of the hero. No more fhalt thou hear the tread of roes, around thy narrow houfe.
As roll the troubled clouds, round a meteor of night, when tkey brighten their fides, with its light, along the heaving fea : fo gathered Erin, «round the gleaming form of Atha's king. He, tall in the midft, carelefs lifts, at times, his fpear : as fwells or falls the found of Fonar's dillant harp. Near* him
Vol. II. F leaned,
* Tn order to iiluRrate this pafTage, I fhall give, here, the hiftory on which it is founded, as I have gathered it from other poems. The nation of the Fir-bolg who in- habited the fouth of Ireland, being originally defcended from tlie Beigos, who poffcired the fouth and fouth-wefl: coaft of Britain, kept up, for many ages, an amicable cor- refpondence with their mother-country; and fent aid to tile Britifli Beiges, when they were preffecl by the Romans or other new-comers from the continent. Cv)n-mor, king of Inis-huna, (that part of South-Britain which is over .^gainfl; the Lilh coaft) being attacked, by what enemy is not mentioned, fent for aid to Cairbar, lord cf Atha, the I mofl potent chief of the Fir-bolg. Cairbar difpatched his brother Gathmor to the affidance of Conmor. Cathmor,
after
62 TE MOR a: B^k ir.
leaned, 3gainft a rock, Sul-malla* of blue eyes, the white-bcloiTied daughter of Conmor king of Inis- luina. Yo his aid came b!ue-lTnielded Cathmor, and rolled his foes away. Sul-malla belield him (hteiy in the hall of feafts ; nor care'efs rolled the eyes of Csthmor on th.e long-hsired maid.
The third day arofe and Fithilf came from Erin f^.i tlie ft'.eams. ' He told of the lifting up of the fliield X on AlorveHj and the danger of red haired
Cairbar.
after various viclfRtudes of fortune, put an end to the war^ bv the total defeat ot the enemies of Inis-liuna, and re- tained in triumph to- the reiklence of Con-mor. There, :it a fe-aft, Sul-ma!la, the daughter of Ccnmcr, fell defpe- rately in love with Cathmor, who, before her palTion was dilclokd, was recalled to Ireland by his brother Caiibar, upon the news of the intended expedition of Fingal, to re-cfiablifli the family of Conar on tlie Iridi throne. The wind being contrary, Cathmor remained, for three days, in a neighbouring bay, during which time Sul-malla dif- gniied Iierfelf, in the habit of a young warrior, and came to olilr him her fervice, in the war. Cathmor accepted of the proix^fal, failed for Ireland, and arrived in Ulfler a few days before the death of Cairbar.
* Stil-mnlla, flctvly rolling cjcs. Caon-mor, 7nild and tdll. Ini:^-huna, green ijland.
t ■ Fithil, an uifvr'ior bard. It mav cither be taken licre for the p-oper name of a man, or in the literal fenfc, as the bards were the heralds and meffcngcrs of thofe times. Cath.racr, it is probable, v. as abfent, when the rebellion of his brother Caiibar, and the alTaffination of Cormac, king of Ireland, happened. The traditions, which are handed down with the poem, fay that Cathmor and his foilowtrs had only arrived, from Inis-huna, three days before the death qf Cairbar, which fufficiently clears his charafter from any in'.putatlon of being concerned in the confpiracy, with his brother.
:j: The ceremony uhich was uAd by Finp-al, v.-hcn he prepared for an expedition, is related, by Oilian, in one o: his icffcr pcems, A bard, at miinight, went to the
hall,
Book I r. AN EPIC POEM. 63
Csirbar. Cathmor raifed the fail at Cluba; but the winds were in other lands, llireedays he remained on the coaft, and turned his eyes on Conmor's halls. He remembered the daughter 0/ Grangers, and Ins figh arofe. Now when the winds awaked the wave: from the hill came a youth in arms ; to hit the fword with Carhmor in his echoing field. It was the white- armed Sul-malla: fecret (he dwelt beneath \itv heJ- met. Her Heps were in the path of the king ; on him her blue eyes rolled w'ith joy, when he lay by his roaring ftreams. But Carhmor tliought, tliar, en Lumon, fhe ft ill purfued t!ie roes : or fair on a rock, ftretch-d her white hand to the wind ; to feel its courfe from Inis-fail the green d '/veiling of her love. He had promifed to return, with his white- bofomed fails. The maid is near tiiee, king of Atha, leaning on her rock.
The tall forms of the chiefs Acod around : all but
dark-browed P^oldath*. He Aood bmeath a tree,
F 2 roiled
liall, where the tribes feaftcd upon folciTin cccafions, raifed the ii\jr-f:}ig, and thrice called the fpirits of their de'ceaied- anceilors to come, en ibeir clouds^ to behold the afticns of their children. He tlien fixed ihs Jhield of Trenmory on a tree on the rock of Selma, ftriking it, at times, with the blunt end of a fpear, and finging the war-fong between. Thus he did, ft-r thiee fucceffive nights, and in the niciui time, meircngers v/cre difpatched to convene the tribes ; or, as OiTian cxprelTes it, to call tbcni from nil tbt'v J}reams. This phrafe alludes to the iituation of the re- fnlences of the clans, which were generally fixed in valleys, where the torrents of the neighbouring niruntains were colIciTted into one body, and berair.c large Jireams or rivers. The lifting iijy cf the Jhkld, was the phrafe for beginning a war.
* The furly attitude of Foidath is a proper preamble to his after behaviour. Chaffed with the difappointment cf the victory which he promded himleif, j.e becomes paifion- The (quarrel wifich fucceeds between him
64 T E M O R A : Book IF
rolled into his haughty foul. His buOiy hair whiftles in wind. At times, burfts the hum of a fong. He llruck the tree, at length, in wrath ; and ruflied be- fore the king. Calm and ibtely, to the beam of the oak, arofe the form of young Hidalla. His hair falls round his blulhing cheek, in wreaths of waving light. Soft was his voice in Clon-ra*, in the valley of his fathers; when he touched the harp, in tlie hall, near his roaring Hreams.
" King of Erin," faid the youth, " now is the time of feafts. Bid the voice of bards arife, and roll the night awsy. The foul returns, from fong, more terrible to war. Darknefs fettles on Inis-fail : from hill to hill bend the fkirted clouds. Far and gray, on the heath, the dreadful ftrides of ghofls are feen : the ghofts of thofe who fell b^nd forward to their fong. Bid thou the harps to rife, and brighten the dead, on their wandering blafts."
" Be all the dead fcgot," faid Foldath's burfting wrath. " Did not I fail in the field, and Ihall I hear the fong ? Yet was not my courfe harmlefs in battle: blood was a fiream around my lleps. But the feeble were behind me, and the foe has efcaped ray fword. In Clon-ra's vajii touch thou the harp ; let Dura anfvver to thy voice ; while fome maid looks, from the wood, on thy long, yellow locks. Fly from Luhar's echoing plain ; it is the field of heroes."
" King of Temora f ," Malthos faid, " it is thine to lead in war. 1 hou art a fire to our eyes, on the dark-brown field. Like a blaft thou hali pafl over
hofts,
him and Malthos was, no doubt, introduced by the poet, to raife the charader of Cathmor vvhofe fuperior worth ftines forth, in his manly manner of ending the difference between the cliiefs.
* Claon-rath, ivind'nrg field. The tL are feldom pro- nounced audibly in the Gnlic language.
t This fpeech of Malthos is, throughout, a levere re- primand to the bluflering behaviour of Foldath.
Biok ir. A N E P I C P O E r,I. 65
hofts, and laid them low in blood ; but who has heard tliy words returning from the field ? The wrathful dcligl-.t in death : their remeaibrance leils oil the wounds of their fpear. Strife is folded in their thoughts : their words are ever heard. Thy ecu! fe^ chief of A'loma, was like a troubled llrcam. The dead were roiled on thy path : hut others alfo lift the fpear. W q were net feeble b^LLid thee, but the foe was fbrong."
llie king beheld the rifing rcge, and bending for- ward of either chief: for half-i;nf]ieathed, tliey ht.d. ti:!eir fwoids, and rolled their filent eyes. Now vould thev have mixed in horrid frav, had not tlie wrath of Cathmor burned, Ke crew his fword : it gleanned through night, 10 the high-flaining oak. *' Sons of pride," faid the king, "aliay your fvvelJing fouls. Retire in night. Why flnould my rage ar^fe? Should I contend with botii in arms ? it is no time for Itrire. Retire, ye clouds at my feall. Awake iTiy foul no more.
They funk from the king on either fide; like* two columns of morning mil^ W'hen the fun rifes, between them, on his glittering rocks. Dark is their rolling on either fide; each towards its reedy pool.
Silent fat the chiefs at the feaft. They looked, at
times, on Arha's king, where he ftrode, on his rock,
amidlt his fettling foul. The hoft lay, at length, on
F 3 the
* I'he poet could fcarcely find, in all nature, a com- parifon fo i'avourable as this to the fuperiority of Cathmor over his two chiefs. I fliall illuftrate this paflage with another from a fragment of an ancient poem, juft now in my l.aiidi. " As the fun is above the vapours, v.hich his beams have raifed ; fo is the fcul of the king above the fons of fear. 'J'hey roll dark below him ; he rejoi.es in therobe cf his beams. But vviien feeble deeds wander en the foul of tht kirg, he is a' darkened fan rolled along the fky ; the valley is fad below: flowers witlier beneath the drops of the i,igh'.."
66 T £ M 0 R A : Book ir.
the field : llcep defcended on Mol-!ena. The voice of Fonar rofe alone, beneath his diftant tree, it lofe in the praife of Cathmor fon of Larthon* of Lumon. But Cathmor did not hear his praife. He lay at the roar of a ftream. Ihe ruftling breeze of night flew over his whifUing locks.
Cairbar came to his dreams, half-feen from his low-hung cloud. Joy rofe darkly in his face: he had heard the fong of Carril f. A blaft fuftained his
dark-
* Lear-lhon, fea-ti'ave, the name of the chief of that colony of the Fir-bolg, which firft migrated into Ireland. Larthon's fuft fettlement in that country is related in the fcventh bock. He was the ancefior of Cathmor ; and is here called hartbcn r.J Lii?non, from a high hill of that iianie in Inis-huiia, the ancient feat of the Fir-bolg. The roet preferves the character of Cathmor throughout. He had mentioned, in the firft book, the averfion ot that chief to praife, and we find him here lying at the fide of a l^ircam, tl^at the noife of rt might drown the voice of I'onar, who, according to the cuflom of tlie times, lung I;is eulogium in his c-vening fong. Though oihcr chiefs, as well as Cathmor, niight be avcrfe to hear their own praife, we find it the uni\erra! policy of the times, to allow the Lards to be as extravagant as they pleafed in their en- comiums on the leaders of armies, in the prefence of their people. The vulgar, who had no great ability to judge lor themfelves, received the cliarafters of their prmces, entirely upon the faith of the bards.
t Carril, the fon of Kiiifena, by the orders of Gfliar, fung the funeral elegy at the tomb of Cairbar. See the fecond book, towards the end. In all the poems of Offian, the vifit of ghofts, to their living friends, are fhort, and their language obfcure, both which circumflances tend to throw a loiemn gloom on the!e fupernatural fccncs. To^ wards the latter end of the fpeech of the ghoff of Cairbar, he forettlls the death of Cathmor, by enumerating thofe fignals which, accordir>g to the opinion of the times, pre- ceded the death of a perfbn renowned. It was thotight that the ghofls of deceafed bards fung, for three nights
piccediug
Book IF. AN EPIC POEM. 67
dark-fkirted cloud ; which he feized in the bofom of night, as he rofe, with his fame, towards his airy hall. Half-mixed with the noife of the ftream, he poured his feeble words.
" Joy meet the foul of Cathmor: his voice was heard on A'loi-lcna. The bard gave his fong to Cairbar : he travels on the wind. My form is in my father's hal], like ihe gliding of a terrible light, which winds through the defart, in a ftormy night. No bard fhall be wanting at thy tomb, when thou art lowly laid. The fons of fong love the valiant. Cathmor, thy name is a pleafant gale. The mourn- ful founds arife ! On Lubar's field there is a voice ! Louder liill ye Ihadowy ghoffs ! the dead were full of fame. Shrilly fwelis the feeble found. The rougher blaft alone is heard! Ah, foon is Cathmor low!" Rolled into himfelf he flew, wide on the bofom of his blafl. The old oak felt his departure, and Ihook its whiftling head. The king flarted from reft, and took his deathful fpear. He lifts his eyes around. He fees but dark-fkirted night.
" It* was the voice of the king; but now his form is gone. Unmarked is your path in the air, ye children of the night. Often, like a reflefted beam, are ye feen in the defart wild ; but ye retire in your blafts before our fteps approach. Go then, ye feeble race! knowledge with you there is none. Your joys are weak, and like the dreams of our reft, or the
light- preceding the death (near the place where his tomb was to be railed) round an unilibdantial figure which rcprefented the body of the pcrlbn who was to die.
* The folilcquy of Cathmor abounds with that mag- nanimity arid love of fame which coiiftitute the hero. 'I'hough ftaggered at firft with the predidion of Cairbar's ghoft, he foon comforts himfelf with the agreeable profpeft of his future renown ; and like Achilles, prefers a fliort and glorious life, to an obfcure length of years in retirement and cafe.
68 T E M O R A : Book IF.
lighr-winged thought that flies acrofs the foul. Shall Cathmor foon be Jow ? Darkly laid in his narrow houfe ? where no morning cotiies with her half- opened eyes. Aw^y, thou fhade ! to fight is mine, all further tiiought away ! I rufh forth, on eag'e wings, to feize my beam of fame. In the lonely vale of ftreatps, abides the little* foul. Years roll on, feafoiiS return, but he is ftill unknown. In a blaft comes cloudy death, and lays his gray head low. His ghort is rolled on the vapour of the fenny field. Its cuurie is never on hills, or mofTy vales of wind. So ihali not Carhmcr depart, no boy in the field was he, who oi::'y marks the bed of rocs, upon the
echoing
* From thispafTage we learn in what ext'-einc cor.teiript an indolent s'kI uuwailike life was l.cid in tliofe days of lierojfm. Wliatever a phllofaplier may fay, in praiic of (juiet and retirement, I am tar from thinking, buc they weaken and debafc tl,e human mind. When the faculties of the foul are not exerted, they lofe their vigour, and low and circumfcribed notions take the place cf noble and enlarged ideas. Action, on the contrary, and the viciffi- tud-es of fortune which attend it, call forth, by turns, all tlic powers of the mind, and, by exerc'.rmg, ftrcngthen tliem. Hence it is, that in great and opulent liatcs, when property and indolence are ferured to individuals, we fcLom> meet with that Ilrength of mind whicli is fd common In a nation, not far advanced in civilization. It is a curious, but juft obfcrvaticn ; that great kingdoms feldom produce great charaders. which mull be altogether attributed to that indolence and diffipation, which are the iilperable companions of too much property and- fecurlty. Home, It is certain, Isad more real great men within it, when its power was confined witliin the narrow bounds of Latium, than when its dominion extended over all the known world ; and one petty (late of the Saxon heptarchy had, perhaps, as much genuine fpiiit in it, as th.e l>V',o Britiih kingdoms united. As a ftate, we are much, more powerful than our anceflors, but we would lofe by com- paring individuals with thei;i.
Book IF. A N E P I C P 0 £ M. 69
echoing hills. My ifluing forth was with king?, and my joy in dreadful plains : where broken holls are away, like feas before the wind."
So fpoke the king of Alnecma, brightening in his rifing foul ; valour, like a pleafant flame, is gleaming within his breafl-. Stately is his ftride on the heath : the beam of eaft is poured around. He faw his gray hoft on the field, wide-fpreading their ridges in light. He rejoiced, like a fpirit of heaven, whofe fteps come forth on his feas, when he beholds them peaceful round, and all the winds are laid. But foon he awakes the waves, and rolls them large to fome echoing coaft.
On the rufhy bank of a ftream, flept the daughter of Inis-huna. l^he helmet had fallen from her head. Her dreams were in the lands of her fathers. There morning was on the field : gray ftreams leapt down from the rocks ; the breezes, in fhadowy waves, fly over the rufhy fields. There is the found that pre- pares for the chafe; and the moving of warriors from the halJ. But tall above the reft is the hero of
; ftreamy Atha : he bends his eye of love on Sul-
i malla, from his ftately fteps. She turns, with pride, her face away, and carelefs bends the bow.
Such were the dreams of the maid when Atha's warrior came. He faw her fair face before him, in
j the midft of her wandering locks. He knew the niaid of Lumon. What (hould Cathmor do ? His figh arcfe : his tears came down. But ftraight he turned away. " This is no time, king of Atha, to
I wake thy fecret foul. The battle is rolled before thee, like a troubled ftream."
He ftruck that warning bofs*, wherein dwelt the voice of war. Erin rofe around him like the found
of
I * In order to iinderfiand this palTage, it is necefTary to look to the defcripticn of Cathmor's (hield which the poet has given us in the fevcnth bookt This fliicld had feven
piincipal
70 T E M O R A- : Book IF.
of eagle-wings, Sul malla ftarted from flcep, in her difoideicd locks. She feized the helmet from earth, snd trembled in her place. " Why Ihould they know in Erin of the daugfiter of Inis-huna J" for (l/e remembered the race of kings, and the pride of her foul arofe. Her fteps are behind a roek, by the blue- winding ftream* of a vale: where dwelt the dark- brown bind ere yet the war arofe. Thither came the voice of Cathmor, at times, to Sul-malla's ear. Her foul is darkly fad ; fhe pours her words on wind. " The dreams of Inis huna departed: they are rolled away from my foul. I hear not the chafe in my land. I am concealed in the (l^irts of war. I look forth from my cloud, but no beam appears to light my path. I behold my warrior low ; for the broad-fhielded king is near; he that overcomes in danger; Fingal of the fpears. Spirit of departed Conroor, are thy fteps on the bofom of winds? Coir.eft thou, at times, to other lands, father of fad Sul-malla ! Thou dofl come, for I have heard thy voice at night ; while yet 1 rofe on the wave to ftieamy Inis-fad. "Ihe ghoft of fathers, they fay f,
can
principal bofTcs, the found of each of wli'ich, when flruck with a fpear, conveyed a particular order from the king to bis tribes. The found of one of them, as here, was the fignal for the army to affemble.
* This was not the valley of Lona to which Sul-malla afterwards retired.
t Con-mcr, the father of Sul-malla, was killed in that war, from which Cathmor delivered Inis-huna. Loi;rar his fon iucceeded Conmor. It was the opinion of ihe- times, when a perfon was reduced to a pitch of miicry, which could admit of no alleviation, that the ghoHs ot his anceflors called his foul au'Jj. This fiipernatural kind of death was called tbe voice of the dtad ; and is believed by the fuperftitious vulgar to this day.
There is no people in the world, p'^haps, who gave more Uiiiverfal credit to apparitions, -and the mTics of the
ghofis
Booi jr. ANEPICPOEM. 7I
.can feize tlie fouls of their race, while they behold them lonely in the midft of woe. Call me, my father, when the king is low on earth ; for then I Tnal! be lonely in the midll of woe."
TEMORA
ghoils of tlie deceafed to their friends, than the common IjigiiLtnders. This is to be attributed as much, at leaft, to tlie iituution of the country they polTcfs, as to that credu- lous difpofition which diftingulflies an unenl'ghtened people. As their bufiiiefs was feeding of cattle, in dark and ex- tenfivc defarts, fo their journeys lay over wide and unfre- quented heaths, where, often, they were obliged to llecp in the open air, amidfl; the whiiliing of winds, and roar of water-fails. The gloominefs of the fcenes around them \vas apt to beget that melancholy difpofition of mind, wliich niofl readily receives impreffions of the extraordi- nary and fupernatural kind. Falling aileep in this gloomy mood, and their dreams being difturbed by the noife of the elements around, it is no matter of wonder, that they thi-ught they heard the voice cf the dead. ^ This •coice of the d;ad, however, was, perhaps, no more than a fliriller whillle of the winds in an old tree, or in the chinks of a neiglibouring rock. It is to this caufe I af :ribe thofe many and improbable tales of ghofts, which we meet with in the highlands : for, in other refpcds, we do not find that the highlanders are more credulous than their neigh- bours.
■ H.JI|I.IU.LIimiMl
T E M O R A
AN
EPIC POEM.
THE ARGUMENT. Oflian, after a (hort addrefs to the harp of Cona, defcribes the arraniTcraent of both armies on either fide of the river Lubar. Fingal gives the command to Fillan: but, at the fame time, orders Gaul, the fon of Morni, who had beea wounded in the hand in the preceding battle, to affift him with his counfel. The ainvy of the Fir bolg is commanded by Foldath, The general onfet is defcribed The great at'^ions of Flilan He kills Koihniar and Culmin. But when Fingal conquers, in one wing. FoUlalli preifes hard on the other. He wounds Dermid, the Ibn of Dutlmo, and puts the whole wing to flight Dennid deliberates wich himfeif, and, at laft, rcfolves to put a ftop to the progrel's of Fol- dath, by engaging him in fingle combat. When the two chiefs were approaching towards one anotlier, Fillan came fuddenly to the relief of Dormd; engaged Foldath, ai:d killed him. The behaviour of iVIalthos towards the fallen Foldath Fillan puts the whole army of the Fir-bolg to flight. The book doles with an addrefs to Clatho, the mother oi that hero.
THOU dweller between the fhields that hang on high in OlTian's hall, defcend from thy place, O harp, and let me hear tliy voice. Son of Alpin, ftrike the ftring; thou mulf awake the foul of the bard- The murmur of Leva's* ftream has rolled the tale away. I Hand in the cloud of years : few Vol, II. G are
* Lora Is often mentioned ; it was a fmill and rapid ftream in the neighbourhocd of Sclma. There is no veRige of this name now remaining ; though it appears from a very eld fjng, which the tranflator has feen, that one of the fr.all rivers on the north-weft coall v/as called Lora fome centuries ago.
74 T E M O R A : Book r.
are its openings towards the part, and v.'hen the vifion conies it is but dim and dark. I hear thee, harp of Cona ; my foul returns, like a breeze, which the fun brings back to the vale, whe:\r dwelt the lazy mill.
-Lubar* is bright before me, in the windings of its vale. On either fide, on iheir hills, rife the tall forms of the kings ; their people are poured around them, bending forward to their words ; as if their fathers fpoke, defcending from their winds. But the kings were like two rocks in the midrt, each with its dark head of pines, when thcv are feen in the defart, above low-failing mirt. High on their face are ilreams, wlich Ipread their foam on blails.
Beneath tlie voice of Cathmor poured Erin, like the found of flame. Wide they came down to Lubar i before them is the llride of Foldath. But Cathmor retired to his hill, beneath his bending oaks. The tuDibling of a ftream is near the king: he lifts, at times, his gleaming fpear. It was a flame to his people, in the niidfl of vyar. Near him flood the
daughter
* Fi-om fcveral pa'ffngcs in the poera, we may farm a dillinct idea of the Icene of the a£lion of Temora. At a imall diftance from one another rofe the hills of Mora and Loiia : the fiift pcflelied by Fir.gal. the fecond by the army rf Cathmor- Tiir&ugh the intermediate plain ran the fniaJl river Lubar, on the banks of which all the battles were lought, excepting that between Cairbar and Ofiar, related iji the firft book. This lafl mentioned engagemtnt happtntd. to the north of the hill of Mora, of which Fingal took pofielli'in, after the army of Cairbar fell back to that of Cathmor. At fon.e diftance, but within fight of Mora, tov.;iids the weft, Lubar ilTiied from the moun- tain cf Crommal, and after a fliort cnurfe through the plain cf Moi-Iena, difchargcd itfelt into the fca near the- field of battle. Behind the mountain of Crcmmal ran the fmail dream of Lcvath, on the banks of which Ferad-artlio, the fon of Criiibre, the only perfon remaining of the ra(c of Conar, lived concealed in a cave, during the ufurpation of Cairbar, the fon of Burbar-duthul,
Booh r. AN EPIC POEM. 75
daughter of Con-nior, leaning on lier rock. She did not rejoice over the rtrife : her foul delighted not in blood. A valley* fpreads green behind the hill, with its three blue itreams. 'I'he fun is there in filence ; and the dun mountain-roes come down. On thefe are turned the eyes of Inis-huna's white-t bofomed maid.
Fingal beheld, on high, the fon of Borbar-duthul : he faw the deep rolling of Erin, on the darkened plain. He ftruck that warning bofs, which bids the people obey ; when he fends his ctiiefs before them, to the field of renown. Wide rok their fpears to the fun; their echoing fhields reply around. Fear, like a vapor, did not wind among the holl : for he, the king, was near, the flrength of itreamy Morven. Gladnefs brightened the heio, we heard his words of joy.
" Like the coming forth of winds, is the found of Morven's fons ! Ihey are mountain waters, deter- mined in their courfe. Kence is Fingal renowned, and his name in other lands. He was not a lonely beam in danger; for your fteps were always near. l>ut never was I a dreadful form, in your prefence, darkened into wrath. Aiy voice was no thunder to your ears : mine eyes fent forth no death. When tlie haughty appeared, I beheld them nor. They vere forgot at my feafts : like mirt they melted away. A young beam is before you : few are his paths to war. They are few, but he is valiant: defend my dark-haired fon. Bring him back with joy : Here- after he may Hand alone. His form is like his fa- thers : his foul is a tiame of their fire. Son of car- borne Alorni, move behind the fon of Clatho ; let thy voice reach his ear, from the Ikirts of war. Not CJ 2 unobferved
* It was to this valley Sul-malla reiireJ, during the laft and decifive battle between Fingal and Cathmor. It is delcribed in the leventh book, where it is called the vaic of L»i)a, and the rclideace of a Druid.
70 T E M O R A : Book V,
unobferved rolls battle, bef re thee, breaker of the Ihields."
The king ftrode, at once, away to Connul's lofty rock. 'As, flow, I lifted my fteps behind; came forward the ftrength of Gaul. His fhJeld hung loofe on its thong ; he fpoke, in halle, to OlTian. '* Bind *, fon of Fingal, this ihield, bind it liigh to the fide of Gaul. The iot rnay behold it, and think I left the fpear. If I fhall fall, let my tomb be hid in the field ; for fall I muft without my fame : mine arm cannot lift the fteel. Let not Evir-choma hear it, to bluOi between her locks. Fillan the mighty be- liold us ; let us not forget the llrife. Why fhould they come, from their hills, to aid our flying field r"
He ftrode onward, with th.e found of his fliicld. IVIy voice purfued him, as he went. " Can the fon of xVIorni fall without his fame in Erin ? But the deeds of the mighty forfake their fouls of fire. They rulh carelefs eve the fields of renown: their words are never heard." I rejoiced over the fceps of the chief: I (Irode to the rock of the king, where he i-A in his Vv-andering locks, amidil the mountain- wind.
In two dark ridges bend the hofts, towards each other, at Lubar. Here Foldath rofe a pillar of daik- nefs : there brightened the youth of Filian. Each, with his fpear in the ftrt-am, fent forth the voice of war. Gaul ftruck the ihield of Morven : at once tiiey plunge in battle. Steel poured its gleam on f^eel : 1 ke the fall cf ftreams (hone the field, when they mix their foam together, from two dark-browed locks. Beho'd he comes the fon of fame: he lays the people low ! Death fits on blafts around him ! Warriors flrew thy paths, O Filian I
Rothmar
* It is ncccfTary to rexnen-jber, that Gaul was wounded ; wliuh occafions his requiring here the affiftance of Oihaa to bind his fijield on liis fide.
Book J^. AN EPIC POEM. 77
Rothmar*, the Hiield of warriors, ftood between two chinky rocks. 'l\vo oaks, which win(is had bent from high, fpread their branches on either fide. He rolls his daikening eyes on Fillan, and filent, fhades his friends. Fingal faw the approaching fight; and all his foul arofe, liut as the ftone of Loda f fulls, fliook, at once, from rocking Druman-ard, when fpirits heave the earth in their wrath j fo fell blue-(hielded Rothmar.
Near are the fteps of Culmin ; the youth came burfhng into tears. Wrathful he cut the wind, eie yet he mixed his flrokes with Fillan. He had firft bent the bow with Rothmar, at the rock of his own blue ftreams. There they had marked the place of the roe, as the fun-bean:i flew over the fern. "Why, G 3 foil
*■ Roth-mar, the foxnid of the. fca before a fiorm^ Diuiuaiiaicl, k'lgb riJge. Culmin, foft -haired. Cull- allin, beautiful locks, Strutha, Jireamy river.
t By the Hone of Loda, as 1 have remarked in mv notes on foiiie other poems of Offian, is meant a place of worlliip aniong the Scandinavijiis. Offiaii, in his many expeditions to Orkney and Scandinavia, became acquainted with fome of the rites of the religion which prevailed iii' thole countries, and frequently alludes to them in his poems. There are fome rains, and circular pales of fione, remaining filll in Orkney, and; the iflands of Shetland,- vhich retain, to this day, the name of Loda or Lcden. They feem to have differed materially, in their conftruclion, from thofe Druidical monuments which remain in Britain, and the weftern illes. The places of woiihip among the Scandinavians were originally rude and unadorned. In after ages, when they opened a communication with other nations, they adopted their manners, and built templcj. Tlac at Upfal, in Sweden, was amazingly rich arid mag- i uificcnt. Haquin, of Norway, built one, near Dron- i thcim, little inferior to the. former ; and it went always ! under the name of Lodtn. Mallet, intrcduSiion « Ik'i/iorie de Dannem.tri.
78 TEMOR a: Book. F.
fon of Cul-allin, doft thou rurti on that beam * of light ? it is a fire that confumes. Youth of Strutha retire. Your fathers were not equal, in the ghtter- ing ftrife of the field.
The mother of Culmin remains in the hall ; fhe looks forth on blue-rolling Strutha. A whirlwind rifes, on the ftream, dark-eddying round the ghoft of her fon. His dogsf are howling in their place: his iliield is bloody in the hall. " Art thou fallen, my fair haired fon, in Erin's difmal war r"
As a roe, pierced in fecret, lies panting, by her wonted ftreams, the hunter looks over her feet of wind, and remembers her flately bounding before: fo lay the Ion of Cul-allin, beneath the eye of Fillan. His hair is rolled in a little ftream: his blood wan- dered on his fliield. Still his hand held the fword, tliat failed him in the day of his danger. " Thou
art
* The poet. !nctapl!Onrally, calls Fillan a beam of light. Culmin, nientioiird bere. was the fon of Clonmar, chief nf Stiiirha, by the bcr.utit'iiJ Cul-allin. She was fo remarkable for the beauty of her pcrfon, that flie is introduced, fre- quently, in tiie finiilies and allufions of ancient poetry. I>Lir Chul-aluin Strutha nan fian ; is a line of Oflian ia another poem; i. e. Lovely as Cul-alUn of Strutha of the Jicvins.
t Dogs were thought to be fenfible of the death of their mafter, let' it happen at ever fo great a difiance. It was alfo the opinion of the times, that the arms whicii warriors left at home became bloody, when they themfelves fell in battle. It was from thofe figns that Cul-allin is fuppofed to utiderlland that her fon is killed ; in which Hie is con- firmed by the appearance of his ghoft. Her fudden and fliort exclamation, on the occafion, is more afFc£ting than if Ihe had extended her complaints to a greater length. The attitude of the fallen youth, and Fi'lan's reflections over him, are natural and judicious, and come forcibly bad; on the mind when we conilder, that the fuppofed runation of the father of Culmin, was fo fiualar to that c.i F)i^,o-al. after the death of Filian himfelf.
Bcok r. A N E P I C P O E M. 79
art fallen," faid Fillan, " ere yet thy fame was heard. Thy father fent thee to war : and he expeds to hear thy deeds. He is gray, perhaps, at his ftreams, turning his dim eves towards Aloi-lena. But thou flialt not return, with the fpoil of the fallen foe."
Fillan poured the flight of Erin before him, over the echoing heath. But, man on man, fell Morven before the dark-red rage of Foldath ; for, far en the field, he poured the roar of half his tribes. Dermid flood before him in wrath : tiie fens of Cona gather round. But iiis Ihield is cleft by Foldath, an^ his people poured over the heath.
Then faid ihe foe in his pride, " They have fied, and my fame begins. Go, Adalthos, and bid the king to guard the dark-rolling of ocean ; that Fingal may not efcape from my fword. He muft lie on earth. Befide feme fen iTiall his tomb be feen. It fliall rile without a fong. His ghoft ihall hover in mift over the reedy pool."
Malihos heard, with darkening doubt ; he rolled his fileni eyes. He knew the pride of Foldath, and looked up to the king on his hill ; then, darkly turning, he plunged his fword in war.
In Clono's * narrow vale, were bent two trees above the ftreams, dark in his grief flood Duthno's
filent
* This valley had its name from Clono, fon of Lethmal of Lora, one of the anreflors of Dermid, tlie fon of Duthiio. His hiftory is tluis related in an old pcem. In the days of Conar, the fon of Trenmor, the firft king of Ireland, Clono pafled over into that kingdom from Cale- donia, to aid Conar againfl the Fir-bolg. Being remark- able for the beauty of his perfon, he loon drew the atten- tion of Sulmin, the young wife of an Irifh chief. She difclofed htr pafHon, which was not properly returned by the Caledonian. Th« lady fickened, through difappoint- ment, and her love for Clono came to the cars of her {uiiband. Fired with jealoufy, he vowed revenge. Clono, to avoid his rage, departed from Temora, in order to pafs
over
8o T EM OR a: Book F.
filent fon. The blood poured from his thigh : his fhield lay broken near. His fpear leaned againft a ftone ; why, Dermid, why fo fad t " I hear the roar of battle.- My people are alone. My fteps are flow on rhe heath ; and no (hield is mine. Shall he then prevail r It is then after Dermid is low ! I will call thee forth, O f'oldath, and meet thee yet in fight."
He took his fpear, with dreadful joy, J he fon; of Morni came. " Stay, fon of Duthno, flay thy fpeed ; thy Heps are marked with blood. No bofTy fiiield is thine. Why fliouldfl thou fall unarmed?" fving of Strumon, give thou, thy Ihield. It has- often rolled back the war. I fhall flop the chief, in
his
over into Scothiid ; and being benighted in the valley- mentioned here, lie laid him down to fieep. Tbcrei Lethmal dcfccniUd in the dreams of Clono ; and told him that danger vitj- near.
Gboji of Lcibmjl. '• Arife from thy bed of mofs ; fon of iow-laid Lethmal, arife. The found of the coming, of foes, defcciids along the wind.
Clono. Whofe voice is that, like many dreams, in the-- feafon of my rell ?
GboJi cj Lttbmal. Arife, thon dweller cf the fouls- of the lovely : fon of- Lethmal, arile.
Clono. How dreary is the night 1 The moon is darkened in the fky ; red are the paths of ghofts, along its fullen face I Green-fkirted meteors fet around. Dull is the roar- ing of fireams, from the valley of dim forms. 1 hear thee, fpirit of my father, on tht eddying courfe of the wind. I hear thee, but thou bendeft not, forward, thy tall form, from the fkirts of night."
As Clono prepared to depart, the hufband of Siilmin came up, with his numerous attendants. Clono defended himfclf, but, after a gallant refiflancc, he was overpowered and flain. He was burled in the place where he was killed, and the valley was called after his name. Dermid, in his requeft to Gaul the fon of Morni, which immediately follows this paragraph, alludes to the tomb of Clono, and his own connexion with that unfortunate chief.
Book f^. AN EPIC POEM. 8l
his courfe. Son of Morni, doft thou behold that ftone !" it lifts its gray head through grafs. There dwells a chief of the race of Dermid. Place me there in night."
He (lowly rofe againft the hill, and faw the troubled field. The gleaming ridges of the fight, disjoined and broken round. As diflant fires, on heath by night, now feem as lolt in fmoke, then rearing their red ftreams on the hill, as blow or ceafe the winds : fo met the intermitting war the eye of broad-fhielded Dermid. Through the hoft are the ftrides of Fol- darh, like fome dark Ihip on wintery waves, when it ifTues from between two ifles, to fport on echoing feas.
Dermid, with rage, beheld his courfe. He ftrove to rufh along. But he failed in the midft of his fteps ; and the big tear came down. He founded his fa- ther's horn 5 and thrice ftruck his boffy fliield. He called thrice the name of Foldath, from his roaring tribes. Foldath, with joy, beheld the chief: he ■ lifted high his bloody fpear. As a rock is marked i with flreams, that fell troubled do-Ai: its fide in a florm ; fo, ftreaked with wandering blood, is the dark form of Moma. The hoft, on either fide, withdrew from the contending of kings. They * raifed, at once, their gleaming points. Rufhing ! came Fillan of Moruth. Three paces back Foldath : withdrew; d:;zzled with that beam of light, which j came, as ifTuing from a cloud, to fave the wounded hero. Crowing in his pride he ftood, and called 1 forth all his fteel.
' As meet two broad- winged eagles, in their found- : ing ftrife, on the winds : fo rufhed the two chiefs, on ! Moi-lena, into gloomy figrit. By turns are the fteps ! of the kings * forward on their recks ; for now the dulTcy war feems to defcend on their fwords. Cath- j mor feels the joy of warriors, on his mofTy hill : I their jov in fecret when dangers rife equal to their " ' fouls.
* Firgal and Cathmor.
82 T JE M O R A : Booi ^
fouls. His eye is not turned on Lubar, but on Morven's dreadful king; for he beheld him, on- Mora, rifing in his arras.
Foldath * fell on his (hield ; the fpear of P'illan pierced the king. Nor looked the youth on tlie fallen, but onward rolled the war. The hundred
• The fall of Foldath, if wc may believe traditioi-v was predided to him, before he had left his own country <[ to join Cairbar, in his deligns on the Irifli throne. He 3 went to the cave of Moma, to inquire of the fpirits of his ' fathers, concerning' the fuccefs of the enterprife of Cairbar. The refponles of oracles are alu'ays attended with obfcurity, and liable to a double meaning : Foldath, therefore, put a favourable interpretation on the prediftion, and purfued his adopted plan of aggrandizing himfelf with the family of Atha, I ftall, here, tranflate the anfwer of tire gbojlr of bis ancejiors, as it was handed down by tradition. Whether the legend is really ancient, or the invention or a hte age, I ihall not pretend to determine, though, froai the phrafcology, I fliould fufped. the laft.
Foldath, addrejjing the ff'u-'its of his fatberT,
Dark, I ftand in your prefence; fathers of Foldath^ hear. Shall my fteps pafs over Atha, to Uilin of the rocs ?
The Anpn'cr,
Thy fteps fhall pafs over Atha, to the green dwelling of kings. There fhall thy flature arife, over the fallen, like a pillar of thunder-clouds. There, terrible in darkncfs, flialt thou ftand, till the refcclcd beam, or Clon-catb of Moruth, come ; Moruih of many ftreams, that roars in. ^ diftant lands."
Cloncath, or rejieBed beam, fav mv traditional authors,, was the name of the fword of Fillan ; fo that it was, in- the latent fignifiration of the word Clon-catb, that the deception lay. My principal reafon for introducing tliis rote, is, that if this tradition is equally ancient with the- poem, which, by the bve, is doubtful, it ferves to lliew,. that the religion of the Fir-bolg differed from that of tha, Caledonians, as we never find the latter enquiriw-g of tlitt- fpirits of thsir deccafed anccAors.
Booi V. A N E P I C P O E M. 83
voices of death arofe. " Stay, fon of Fingal, flay thy fpeed. Beholdert thou not that gleaming form, a dreadful fign of death ? Awaken not the king of Alnecma. Return, fan of blue-eyed Clatho."
Malthos* faw Foldath low. He darkly ftocd above the king. Hatred was rolled from his foul. He Teemed a rock in the defart, on whofe dark {x^^a are the trickling of waters, when the flow- failing inift has left it, and its trees are blafted with winds. He fpoke to the dying hero, about the narrow houfe. Whether (hall thy gray ftone rife in Uilin ? or in Moma's t woody land, where the fun looks, in fecret, on the blue ftrea;r»s of Dalruiho % ? There are the (teps of thy daugliter, blue-eyed Dardu-lena.
" Rememberefl: thou her," faid Foldath, " be- caufe no ion is mine; no youth to roll the battle
before
* The charaders of Foldath and Maltlios are well fuftained. They were both dark and furly, but each in a different way. Foldath was impetuous and cruel. Mal- thos ftubborn and incredulous. Their attachment to the family of Atha was etjual ; their bravery in battle tiie fame. Foldath was vain and oftentatious : Malthos un- jndulgent but generous. His behaviour here, towards his enemy Foldath, (hews, that a good heart often lies con- cealed under a gloomy and fullen charader,
t Moma was the na;ne of a country in the fouth of
Connaught, once famous for being the refidence of an
^ Arch-drnid. The' cave of Moma was thought to be in-
i liabited by the Ipirits of the chiefs of the Fii-bolg, and
j their poftcrlty Tent to enquire there, as to an oracle, con-
ceriiing the iITue of ihcir wars.
\ Dal-ru^th, ^\ircbcd or fan Jy field. The etymology of Dardu-lena is uncertain. 'I'he daughter of Foldath was. probably, fo called, from a ^acc in Ulfler, vdiere her father had defeated part of the adi'.erents of Artho, king of li eland. Dordu-Iena-; tbe dai-k nvood of 2Ioi- lena. A^ Foldath was pror.i and oftentatious, it would appear, that he transferred t' e name of a place, where he hiniftlf had been victorious, to his daughter.
84 temora: Book P^'
before him, in revenge of me ? Malthos, I am re- venged. I was not peaceful in the field. Raife the tombs of thofe I have llain, around my narrow houfe. Often fhall 1 forfake the blaft, to rejoice above their graves; when I behold them fpread around, with their long- whirling giafs."
His foul ruihed to the vales of Moma, and came to Dardu-lena's dreams, where flie llept, by Dal- rutho's ftream, returning from the chafe of the hinds. Her bow is near the maid, unftrung ; the breezes fold her long hair on her breairs. Clothed in the beauty of youth, the love of heroes lay. Dark, bending, from the fkirts of the wood, her wounded father came. He appeared, at tim:s, then feemed as hid in mift. Burfting into tears Ihe rofe : ihe knew that the chief was low. To her came a beam from his foul when folded in its ftorms. Thou wert the lafl; of his race, blue-eyed Dardu-lena !
Wiiie-fpreading over echoing Lubar, the flight of Bolga is rolled along. Fillan hung forward on tlieir fleps ; and lirewcd, with dead, the heath. Fmgal rejoiced over his fon. Blue-lhielded Cathmor rofe.
Son * of Alpin, bring the harp : give Filian's praife to the wind : raife high his praife, in my hall, while yet he (hines in war.
Leave
* Thefe fudden tranfitions from the fubjcft are not un- common In the compofitlons of Offian, That in this place has a peculiar beauty and propriety. The fufpence, in which the mind of the reader is left, conveys the idea of Filian's danger more forcibly home, than any dcfcription that the poet could introduce. There is a fort of eloquence, in filence with propriety. A minute detail of the circum- ftances of an important fcene is generally cold and infpid. The human mind, free and fond of thinking for itfelf, is difgufled to find every thing done by the poet. It is, therefore, his bufuiefs only to mark the moft flriking out- lines, and to allow the imaginations of his readers to finiih the figure for themfelves.
The book ends in the afternoon of the third day, from the opeuing of the poem.
Book. F. A N E P I C P 0 E M. 85
Leave, blue-eyed Clatho, leave thy hall. Behold that early beam of thine. The hoft is withered in its courfe. No further look — it is dark. Light- trembling from the harp, ftrike, virgins, ftrike the found. No hunter he defcends, from the dewy haunt of the bounding roe. He bends not his bow on the wind ; or fends his gray arrow abroad. •
Deep-folded in red war, the battle rolls againft his fide. Or, ftriding midft the ridgy ftrife, he pours the deaths of thoufands forth. Fillan is like a fpirit of heaven, that defcends from the fkirt of his blaft. The troubled ocean feels his fteps, as he flrides from wave to wave. His path kindles behind him ; iflands fliake their heads on the heaving; feas.
Vol. IL H TEMORA
T E M O R A:
AN-
EPIC POEM.
THE ARGUMENT, This book opens with a fpeech of Fingal, who fees Cathmor defcending to the afiiftance of his flying army. The king difpatches Oflian to the relief of Fillan. He him felf retires, behind the rock of Cormul, to avoid the fight of the engage- ment between his ton and Cathmor. Oflian advances. The deCcent of Cathmor defcribed. He raUiesthe army, renews the battle, and, before OfTian could arrive, engages Fillan himielf. Upon the approach of Oflian, the combat between the two heroes ceales. Oflian and Cathmor prepare to fis^htp but night coming on prevents them. Oifian returns to the place where Cathmor and Fillan fought He finds Fillan mortally wounded, and leaning againll a rock. Their diH courfe. Fillan dies : his body is laid, by Oflian, in a neigh- bouring cave. The Caledonian army return to Fingal. He queftions them about his fon, and underftanding that he was killed, retires, in fiience, to the rock of Cormul, Upon the retreat of the army of Fingal, the Fir-bolg advance, Cath • mor finds Bran, one of the dogs of Fingal, lying on the flfieid of Fillan, before the entrance of the cave, where the body of that hero lay. His refieiflions thereupon He returns, in a melancholy mond, to his army. Maltlios endeavours to comfort him, by the example of his father Borbar-duthul. Catlimor retires to reft The fong of Sul-malla conclude* the boi'k, which ends about the middle of the third night, from the opening of the poem.
BOOK VI.
« A^ATFIMOR rifes on his echoing hill! Shall V^ Fingal take the fword of Luno ? But what fhouid become of thy fame, fon of white-bofomed Clatho ? Turn not thine eyes from Fingal, daughter of Iniftore. I fha'I not quench thy early beam ; it (hines along my foul. But rife, O wood-fkirted Mora, rife between the war and me ! Why fbould Fingal behold the ftrife, left his dark-haired warrior Ihould fall ! Amidft the fong, O Carril, pour the H 2 fouud
88 T E M O R A : Book FL
found of the trembling Iiarp : here are the voices of rocks, and bright tumbling of waters. Father of Ofcar lift the fpcar ; defend the young in arms. Conceal thy fleps from Fillan's eyes. He muft not know that I doubt his fteel. No cloud of mine fhall rife, my fon, upon thy foul of fire !"
He funk behind his rock, amidft the found of Carril's fong. Brightening, in my growing foul, I took the fpear of Temora*. 1 faw, along Moi- lena, the wild tumbling of battle, the ftrife of death, in gleaming rows, disjoined and broken round Fil- lan is a beam of fire: from wing to wing is his waflcful courfe. The ridges of w^ar melt before him. They are rolled, in finoke, from the fields.
Now is the coming forth of Cathmor, in the ar- mour of kings I Dark-rolled the eagle's wing above his helmet of fire. Unconcerned are his fieps, as if they were to the chafe of Atha. He raifed, at times, his dreadful voice ; Erin, absfhed, gathered round. Their fouls returnv°d back,^ like a ftream : they won- dered at the fieps of their fear : for he rofe, like the beam of the morning on a haunted heath : the tra- veller looks back, with bending eye, on the field of dreadful forms. Sudden, from the rock of Moi- lena, are Sul-malla's trembling fieps. An oak took the fpear from her hand; half- bent fhe loofed the lance : but then are her eyes on the king, from amidft her wandering locks. " No friendly ftrife is before thee : no light contending of bows, as when the youth of Cluba f came forth beneath the eye of Conmor."
As
* The fpear of Temora was that whicli Ofcar had re- ceived, in a prefeiit, from Cormac, the fon of Artho, king of Ireland. It was of it that Cairbar made the pretext for quarrelling with Ofcar, at the feaft, in the firft book.
t C!u-ba, ivhidiiig bay ; an arm ot the fea in Inis- ijuna, or the weflern coaft of South-Britain. It was in this bay that Catbnior was wind-bound wkeu Sul-nialla
came,
Bosk FI. A N E P I C P O E M. 89
As the rock of Runo, which takes the paffing clouds for its robe, fcems growing, in gathered dark- nefs, over the llreanfiy heath ; fo feeined the chief of Atha taller, as gathered his people round. As different blafts t^y over the fea, each behind its dark- blue wave, lb Cathinor's words, on every fide, poured his warriors forth. Nor (ilent on his hill is Fillan ; he mixed his words with his echoing (hield. An eagle he feemed, with founding wings, calling the wind to his rock, when he fees the coming forth of the roes, on Lutha's* rufhy field.
Now they bent forward in battle : death'^s hundred voices rofe ; for the kings, on either fide, were like fires on the fouls of the people. 1 bounded along : high rocks and trees rufhed tall between the war and me. But I beard the noife of fleel, between my clanging arms. Rifing, gleaming, on the hill, I be- held the backward fteps of hofts: their backward fteps, on either fide, and wildly looking eyes. The chiefs were met in dreadful fight ; the two blue- i fhielded kings. Tall and dark, through gleams of j {teel, are feen the ftriving heroes. I rufhed. My t fears for Fillan flew, burning acrofs my fouL
i came ; nor Cathmor fled ; nior yet advanced : he fide-long ftalked along. An icy rock, cold, tall he I feemed. I called forth all my fteel. Silent awhile we ftrode, on either fide of a ruihing ftream : then, fudden turning, all at once, we raifed our pointed fpears. We raifed our fpears, but night came down, H3 It
came, in the difgulfe of a young warrior, to accompany jhim in his voyage to Ireland. Conmor, the father of iSul-malla, as we learn from her foliloquy, at the clofe of 'the fourth book, was dead before the departure of his [(daughter.
' \ * Ltitha was the name of a valley in Morven, in the idays of Oflian. There dwelt Tofcar the fon of Conloch, the father of Malvina, who, upon that account, is often called the maid of Lutha, Lutha fignifies /wj/V/ream*
9© T E M O R A : Book FI.
It Is dark and filent around ; but wkere the diftant Ikps of hofls ar.e founding over the heath.
I came to the place where Fillan fought. Nor voice, nor found is there. A broken hehnet lay on earth ; a buckler cleft in twain. " Where, Fillan, v^here art thou, young chief of echoing Morven ?" He heard me leaning againft a rock, which bent its gray head over the ftream. He heard ; but fullen, dark he flood. At length I faw the chief.
« Why flandeft thou, robed in darknefs, fon of woody Selma ? Bright is thy path, my brother, in this dark- brown field. Long has been thy ftrife in battle. Now the horn of Fingal is heard. Afcend to the cloud of thy father, to his hill of feafts. In the evening mift he fits, and hears the voice of Car- ril's harp. Carry joy to the aged, young breaker of the ftiields."
" Can the vanquiflied carry joy ? Offian, no fhield is mine. It lies broken on the field. The eagle- wing of my helmet is torn. It is when the foes fly before them that fathers delight in their fons. But their fighs burft forth, in fecret, when their young warriors yield. No : Fillan will not behold the king. Why (hould the hero mourn ?"
" Son of blue- eyed Ciatho, why doft thou awake my foul ? Wert thou not a burning fire before him ; and fliali he not rejoice ! Such fame belonged not to Ofllan ; yet was the king ftill a fun to me. He looked on my fleps, with joy ; ihadows never rofe on his face. Afcend, O Fillan to Mora : his feaft is fpread in the folds of mift."
" Oflian, give me that broken (hield : thefe fea- thers that are rolled in the wind. Place them near ( to Fillan that lefs of his fame may fall. Oflian, \ 1 begin to fail. Lay me in that hollow rock. Raifqi no ftone above : left one ftiould afk about my fame. I am fallen in the firft of my fields : fallen without renown. Let thy voice alone fend joy to my flying f
fou};!
Book yi. AN EPIC POEM. 9I
foul. Why fhould the feeble know where dwells the loft beam of Clatho * ?"
" Is thy fpirit on the eddying winds, blue-eyed king of fhields ? Joy purfue my hero, through his folded clouds. The forms of thy fathers, O Fillan,
bend
* A dialogue between Clatho the mother, and Bos-mina the fifter, of that hero.
Clatho. " Daughter of Fingal, arife : thou light be- tween thy locks. Lift thy fair head from reft, foft-gliding fun-beam of Seima 1 I beheld thy arms, on thy breaft, white-tolfed amidft thy wandering locks : when the ruftling breeze of the morning came from the defart of ftreams. Haft thou feen thy fathers, Bofmina, delcending in thy dreams ? Arife, daughter of Clatho ; dwells there aught of grief in thy foul.
Bos-vitna. A thin form pafled before me, fading as it flew : like the darkening wave of a breeze, along a field cf grafs. Defcend, from thy wall, O harp, and call back the foul of Bos-mina, it has rolled away, like a ftream. I hear thy pleafant found. I hear thee, O harp, and my voice (hall rife.
How often fball ye rufh to war, ye dwellers of my foul ? Your paths are diftant, kings of men, in Erin of blue ftreams. Lift thy wing, thou fouthern breeze, from Clono's darkening heath : fpread the fails of Fingal to- wards the bays of his land.
But who is that, in his ftrength, darkening in the prc- fence of war ? His arm ftretches to the foe, like the beam of the fickly fun ; when his fide is crufted with darknefs ; and he rolls his dilmal courfe through the fky. Who is it, but the father of Bos-miina ? Shall he return till danger is paft !
Fillan, thou art a beam by his fide ; beautiful, but ter- rible, is thy light. Thy fword is before thee, a blue fire of night. When fhalt thou return to thy roes ; to the ftreams of thy ruOiy fields ? When Ihall I behold thee from Mora, while winds ftrew my long locks on mofs ! But fliall a young eagle return from the field, where the heroes fall !
Ciatbo,
92 - T E M O R A : Book FL
bend to receive their fon. , I behold the fpreading of their fire on Mora ? the blue rolling of their mifty wreaths. Joy meet thee, my brother. But we are dark and fad. I behold the foe round the aged, and the wafting away of his fame. Thou art left alone in the field, gray-haired king of Selma."
I laid him in the hollow rock, at the roar of the nightly ftream. One red ftar looked in on the hero i winds lift, at times, his locks. I liftened; no found was heard : for the warrior flept. As lightning on a cloud, a thought came rulhing over my foul. My eyes rolled in fire: my ftride was in the clang of fteel. " I will find thee, chief of Atha, in the ga- thering of thy thoufands. Why fhould that cloud efcape, that quenched our early beam r Kindle your meteors, my fathers, to light my daring fteps. I will confume in wrath. * Should I not return ! the
king
Clatbo, Soft, as the fong of Loda, 5s the voice of Schna's maid. Pleafant to the car of Clatho is the name of the breaker of fhields. Behold, the king comes from ocean : the fliield of Morven is borne by bards. The foe has fled before him, like the departure of mlft. I hear not the founding wings of my eagle ; the rufhing forth of the fon of Clatho. Thou art dark, O Fingal ; (hall he not return I # # # *
* Here the fentence is defigncdly left unfinifhed by the poet. The fenfe is, that he was refalved, like a deflroying fire, to confuine Gathiaor, who had killed his brother. In the midft of this rcfolution, the lituation of Eingal fuggefts itfelf to him, in a very ftrong light. He refolves to re- turn to aflift the king in profecuting the war. But then his fhame for not defending his brother, recurs to him. He is determined again to go and find out Cathmor. We may confider him, as in the ail of advancing towards the enemy, when the horn or Fingal founded on Mora, and called back his people to his prefencc. This follloquy is natural : the refolutions which fo fuddenly follow one another, are cxprelfive of a mind extremely agitated with ;
forrow
Book Fl. A N E P I C P O E M. 93
king is without a fon, gray-haired smidft his foes. His arm is not as in the days of old : his fame grows dim in Erin. Let me not behold him from high, laid low in his latter field. But can I return to the king .'' Will he not afk about his fon ? " Thou oughtell to defend young Filian." I will meet the foe. Green Inis-fail, thy founding tread is pleafant to my ear : I rufh on thy ridgy hoft, to fhun the eyes of Fingal, I hear the voice of the king, oa Mora's mifty top ! He calls his two fons ; I Ctime, my father, in my grief. I come like an eagle, which the flame of night met in the defart, and fpoiled off half his wings."
Dif^ant, * round the king, on Mora, the broken ridges of Morven are rolled. They turned their eyes: each darkly bends, on liis own afhen fpear. Silent flood the king in the midft. Thought on thought rolled over his foul. As waves on a fecret moLintain lake, each with its back of foam. He Jooked ; no fon appeared, with his long-beaming fpear. The fighs rofe, crowding from his foul j but
he
forrcw and confcious fhamc ; yet the behaviour of Oflian, in his execution of the commands of Fingal, is fo irrepre- henfible, that it is not eafy to determine where he failed in his duty. The truth is, that when men fail in defigns which they ardently wifh to acconiplifh, they naturally blame themfelves, as the chief caufe of their difappoint- ment.
• This fcene is folemn. The poet always places his chief character amidft objefts which favour the fublime. The face cf the country, the night, the broken remains of 3 defeated army, and, above all, the attitude and filencc cf Fingal himfclf, are cirrumnanres calculated to imprefs an a u- fill idea on the mind. Offian is mofl fuccefsful in his night defcriptions. Dark images fuited the melancholy temper of his mind. His poems were all compofed after the aftive part of his life was over, when he was blind, and had furvived all the companions of his youth : wc tiherefore find a veil of melancholy thrown over the whole.
94 T E M O R A : Book FL
he concealed his grief. At length I flood beneath an oak. No voice of mine was heard. What could I fay to Fingal in his hour of woe ? His words rofe, at length, in the midft : the people flirunk backward as he fpoke *.
« Where
* The abafhed behaviour of the army of Fingal pro- ceeds rather from fliarae than fear. The king was not of a tyrannical difpofition : He, as he profcffes himfelf in the fifth book, never ivas a dreadful fcriKy in tbc'ir pre- fence, darketied into nvratb. His voice luas no thunder to tbsir ears : bis eye fent forth no death. The firft ages of fociety are not the times of arbitrary power. As the wants of mankind are few, they retain their indepen- dence. It is an advanced ftatc of civilization that moulds the mind to that fubmiffion to government, of which am- bitious magiflratcs take advantage, and raife themfelves into abfolute power.
It is a vulgar error, that the common Highlanders lived, in abjed flavery, under their chiefs. Their high ideas of, and attachment to, the heads of their families, probably, led the unintelligent into this miflakc. When the honour of the tribe was concerned, the commands of the chief were obeyed, without reftriftion : but, if individuals were op- preffed, they threw themfelves into the arm of a neigh- • bouring clan, affumed a new name, and were encouraged i and protedtd. The fear of this defeition, no doubt, made !• the chiefs cautious in their government. As their confe- • quencc, in the eyes of others, was in proportion to the number of their people, they took care to avoid every thing that tended to diminiUi it.
It was but very lately that the authority of the laws extended to the Highlands. Before that time the clans i were governed, In civil affairs, not by the verbal com- mands of the chief, but by what they called Clecbda, or the traditional precedents of their anceftors» When diffe- rences happened between individuals, fome of the oldeft : men in the tribe were chofen umpires between the parties, to decide according to the Clecbda. The chief interpofed his authority, and, invariably, enforced the decifion. In
their
iBeti Fl. A N E P I C P O E M. 95
« Where is the fon of Selma, he who led in war? I behold not his rteps, among my people, returning from the field. Fell the young bounding roe, who was fo (lately on my hills ? He fell j for ye are filent. The ftiield of war is broke. Let his armour be near to Fingal ; and the fword of dark-brown Luno. I am, waked on my hills: With morning I defcend to war.'*
High * on Cormul's rock, an oak flamed to the wind. The gray flcirts of mift are rolled around;
thither their wars, which were frequent, on account of family- feuds, the chief was lefs referved in the execution of his authority ; and even then he feldom extended it to the taking the life of any of his tribe. No crime was capital except murder ; and that was very unfrcquent in the high- lands. No corporal punilhinent, of any kind, was in- flifted. The memory of an affront of this fort would remain, for ages in a family, and they would feize every opportunity to be revenged, unlefs it came immediately from the hands of the chief himfclf ; in that cafe it was taken, rather as a fatherly corredlion, than a legal punifl^ ment for offences.
* This rock of Corniul is often mentioned in the pre- ceding part of the poem. It was on it Fingal and Offian ftood to view the battle. The cuftom of retiring from the army, on the night prior to their engaging in battle, was univerfal among the Wngs of the Caledonians. Trenmer, the moft renowned of the anceftors of Fingal, is mentioned as the firft who inftituted this cuftom. Succeeding bards attributed it to a hero of a later period. In an old poem, which begins with Mac-Arcatb nan ceud frol, this cuftom of retiring from the army, before an engagement, is numbered among the wife inftitutions of Fergus, the fon of Arc or Arcath, the firft king of Scots. I ftiall here tranllate the paffagc, in fome other note I may, probnbly, give all that remains of the poem. Fergus oj the hun- dred Jlreams^ fon of Arcath 'u.-bo fought of old : thou, didft firft retire at night ; nvben the foe rolled before thee, in echoing fields. Nor bending in reft is the king : he gathers battles in his foul. Fly, fon of the ftranger ; -with morn he Jhall rufto abroad* When, or by whom; this poem was writ is uncertain.
96 T E M O R A : ^6oi P L
thither ftrode the king in his wrath. Diftant from the hoft he always lay, when battle burnt within his foul. On two fpears hung his fhield on high ; tire gleaming (Ign of death ; that (hield, which he was ' wont to ftrike, by night, before he ruflhed to war. It was then his warriors knew, when the king was to lead in ftrife ; for never was this buckler heard, till Fingal's wrath arofe. Unequal were his fteps on high, as he fhone in the bcana of the oak ; he was dreadful as the form of the fpirit of night, when he clothes, on hills, his wild geftures with mift, and, ifluing forth, on the troubled ocean, mounts the car of winds.
Nor fettled, from the ftorm, is Erin's fea of war;, they glittered, beneath the moon, and, low-humming,, ftill rolled on the field. Alone are the fteps of Cath- mor, before them on the heath ; he hung forward, with all his arms, on Morven's flying hoft. Now had he come to the moffy cave, where Fillan lay in night. One tree was bent above the ftream, which glittered over the rock. There fhone to the moon the broken fhield of Clatho's fon ; and near it, on grafs, lay hairy-footed Bran *. He had miffed the
chief
* This circumftance, concerning Bran, the favourite dog of Fingal, is, perhaps, one of the mod affefting paffagcs in the poem. I remember to have met with an old poem, conipofcd long after the time of Oflian, wherein a ftory of this fort is very happily introduced. In one of the in- vafions of the Danes, Ullin-clundu, a confiderable chief, on the weftern coaft of Scotland, was killed in a rencounter with a flying party of the enemy, who had landed, at no great diftance, from the place of his refidence. The few followers who attended him were alfo (lain. The young wife of Ullin-clundu, who had not heard of his fall, fear-* ing the worft, on account of his long delay, alarmed the reft of his tribe, who went in fearch of him along the fhore. They did not find him ; and the beautiful widow became dlfconfolat*. At length he was difcovered, by means of
his
Bock ri. AN EPIC POEM. 97
chief on Mora, and fearched him along the wind. He thought that the bUie-eyed hunter flept ; he lay upon liis ihield. No blart came over the heath, un- known to bounding Bran.
Cathmor faw the white-breafted dog ; he faw the broken (hieJd. Dai knefs is blown back on his ioul ; he remembers the falling away of the people. " They come, a ftream ; are rolled away ; another race fuc- ceeds. But fome mark the fields, as they pafs, with their own mighty names. The heath, through dark-brown years, is theirs ; fome blue ftream, winds to their fame. Of thefe be the chief of Atha, when he lays him down on earth. Often may the voice of future times meet Cathmor in the air : when he firides from wind to wind, or folds himfelf in the wing of a ftorm."
Green Erin gathered round the king, to hear the voice of his power. Their joyful faces bend, un- equal, forward, in the light of the oak. They who were terrible were removed : Lubar* winds again in
Vol, IL 1 their
his dog, wlio fat on a rock befide the bodv, for fome days. i| The poem is not jufl; now in my hands; otherwife its I poetical merit might induce me to prcfent tlie reader with tranilation of it. The ftanza concerning the dog, whofc ( name was Du-chos, or Bh-ickfoot, is very defcriptivc.
" Dark-fided Du-chos 1 feet of wind I cold is thy feat
on rocks. He (the dog) fees the roe ; his cars are high ;
and half he bounds awav. He looks around ; but Ullin
ileeps ; he droops again his head. The winds come pad ; ; jdark Du-chos, thinks, that Ullin's voice is there. But
I iitill he beholds him filent, laid amidfl; the waving heath.
II Dark-fidcd Du-chos, his voice no more fhall fend tiiee over J !^he heath 1"
• [ * In order to illuflrate this paffage, it is proper to lay ;i Ibcfore the reader the fcene of the two preceding battles. I, iBetwcen the hills of Mora and Lona lay the plain of ; iMoi-lena, through which ran the river Lubar. The firfl: I 'battle, wherein Gaul, the fon of Morni, commanded on
the
98 temora: Book FTJ.
their hoft. Cathmor was that beam, from heaven' which Ihone when his people were dark. He wass honoured in the midil. 1 heir fouls rofe trembling sround. The king alone no gladnefs Ihewed j no ilranger he to war !
" Why is the king fo fad," faid IVIalthos eagle- eyed ; " Remains there a foe at Lubar r Lives there among them, who can lift the fpear ? Not fo peace- ful was thy father, Borbar-duthul *, fovereign of fpears. His rage was a fire that always burned : his joy over fallen foes was great. Three days feafted ;
the
the Caledonian fide, was fought on the banks of Lubar, As there was little advantage obtained, on either fide, the armies, after the battle, retained their former pofitions.
Ill the fecond .battle, wherein Flllan commanded, the Iiifli, after the fall of Foldath, were driven up the hill of Lona ; but, upon the coming of Cathmor to their aid, they regained their foimer fituation, and drove back the Caledonians, in their turn : fo that Lubar 'winded again in their boji.
* Borbar-duthul, the father of Cathtror, was the bro- ther cf that Colc-ulla who is faid, in the beginning of the fourth book, to have rebelled againft Cormac king of Ire- lard. Borbar-duthul feems to have retained all the pre- judice of his family againii the fucccfTun of the pofterity of Conar, on the Iiifli throne. From this fliort epilbde \Kt learn feme facl^s which tend to throw light on the hiftory of the times. It appears, that, when Swaran invaded Ireland, he was only oppofed by the Gael, who polTeffed Uiricr, and the north ot that iiland. Calmar, tlie fon of l^Tatha, v/hofe gallant behaviour and death are related in \hf third book of Fingal, was the only chitf of tlie race rf the Fir-bolg, that joined the Gael, or Irilh Galedonians, during the invaiion of Swaran. The indecent joy, which Bcrbar-duthul expreflcd, upon the death of Calmar, is well fuited with that*fpirit of revenge, which fubfifled, univer- lally, in every country where the feudal fyftem was efia- liliflied. It v.-ould appear that fbmc pcrfon had carried to Borbar-duthul th.at weapon, with which, it was ui-etended, C,d,i;ar hr.d been killed.
Baok FL A N E P I C P O E M. 99
the gray-haired hero, when he heard that Calmar
: fell: Caimar; who aided the race of Ullin, from
j Lara of the ftreams. Often did he feel, with his
I hands, the fteel which, they faid, had pierced his foe,
1 Ke felt »^ with his hands, for Borbar-duthul's eyes
{ had failed. Yet was tne King a lun to nis rriends ,
i a gale to lift their branches round. Joy was around
j him in his halls : he loved the fons of Bolga. His
[ name remains in Atha, like the awful memory of
I ghofts, whofe prefence was terrible, but they blew
I tiie ftorm away. Now let the voices* of Erin raife
the foul of the king j he that ihone when war was
dark, and laid the mighty low. f'onar, from that
gray- browed rock, pour the tale of other times :
pour it on wide-fkirted Erin, as it fettles round."
" To mc," faid Cathmor, "no fong (hall rife: nor P'onar fit on the ruck of Lubar. The mighty there are laid low. Diflurb not their rufhing ghoiis. Far, Alalthos, far remove the found of Erin's fong. I rejoice not over the iot^ when he ctafes to lift the fpear. VV ith morning we pour our ftrength abroad, Fingal is wakened on his echoing hill."
Like waves, blown back by fudden winds, Erin
retired, at the voice of the king. Deep- rolled into
the field of nigln, they fpread then- humming tribes :
Beneath his own tree, at intervals, each f bard fat
1 2 dowa
• The voices of Erin, a poetical exprefHon for the bards of Ireland.
f t Not only the kings, but every petty chief, had their [bards attending them, iti the field, in the days of Offian ; •and thefc bards, in proportion to the power of the chiefs, .who retained them, had a number of inferior bards in their •train. Upon folemn occafions, all the bards, in the army, iwould join in one chorus ; either when they celebrated their virtories, or lamented the death of a perfon, worthy and renowned, (lain in the war. The words were of the ■compofuion of the arch-bard, retained by the king him- felf, who generally attained to that high office on account
100 T E M 0 R A : Bed P'l.
down with his harp. They raifed the fong, and i touched the ftring : each to tlie chief he loved. Be- fore a burning oak. Su!-malla touched^ at times, the: haip. She touched the harp and heard, between, the breezes in her hair. In daiknefs near, lay the king of Atha, beneath an aged tree. The beam of the osk was turned froin him; he faw the maid, but was not feen. His foul poured forth, in fecret, whetj' he beheld her tearful eye. '' But battle is before thee, fon of Borbar-duthul."
Amidft the harp, at intervals, Hie liflened whether the warriors llept. Her foul was up ; (he longed, in fecret, to pour her own fad fong. The field is filent. On their wings, the blafts of night retire. The; bards had ceafed ; and meteors came, red'-winding with their ghofts. The iky grew daik: the forms «
ofj
of his fuperior genius for poetry. As the peifons of thci bards were lacrcd, and the emoluments cf their office con- fidcrable, the order, in fuccecding times, became very nu- merous and infolent. It would appear, that after the in* troduc'^ion of Chriflianity, fome ferved in the double capacity of bards and clergymen. It was, from this cir- ciimftance, that they had the name of Cblere, which is, probably, derived from the Latin Clericus. The Cblere^ be their name derived from what it will, became, at laft, a public nuifance ; for, taking advantage of their facred charafter, they went about, in great bodies, and lived, at difcre^ion, in the houfes of the chiefs ; till another party,' cf the fame order, drove them away by mere dint of fatire. Some of the indelicate difputes of thcfe worthy poetical combatants are handed down, by tradition, and fhew how jnuch the bards, at lalt:, abufed the privileges, which thci admiration of their countrymen had conferred on the order. It was this infolent behaviour that induced the chiefs to retrench their nunjber, and to take away thofe privileges which they were no longer worthy to enjoy. 1 heir in- dolence, and difpofition to lampoon, extinguillicd all th«i poetical fervour, which diflinguiflied their predecefibrs, and* makes us the Icfs regret the extinclion of the order.
Book /■'/. ■ A N E P I C P 0 E ?.I. lOI
of the dead were blended with the clouds. But heedlefs bends the daughter of Conmor, over tiie decaying flame. Thou wert alone in her foul, car- borne chief of Atha. She raifed the voice oi tlie fong, and touclied tlie harp between.
" Clun-galo* came ; fhe mifl'ed the maid. Where art thou, beam of light ? Hunters, from the raofTy rock, faw you the blue-eyed fair ? Are her fteps on graffy Lumon ; near the bed of roes! Ah me! I behold her bow in the hall. Where art thou, beam of light ?
« Ceafe, \ love of Conmor, ceafe ; I hear thee not on the ridgy heath. My eye is turned to the king, Mvhofe path is terrible in war. He for whom my foul is up, in the feafon of my reft. Deep-bofomed in war he ftands, he beholds me not from his cloud. Why, fun of Sui-malla, doft thou not look forth I I dwell in darknefs here; wide over me flies the fliadowy mift. P'iiled with dew are my locks : look thou from thy cloud, O fun of Sul-malla's foul.'*
Is TEMORA:
I * Clun-galo, ivbite-knee, the wife of Conmor, king of : Inis-huna, and the mother of Sul-malla. She is here re- prcfcnted, as miffing her daughter, after fhe had fted with Gathmor.
t Sul-malla replies to the fuppofed queflions of her mother. Towards the middle of this paragraph flie calls Gathmor the fun oj her foul., and continues the metaphor throughout. This book ends, we may fuppofe, about the middle of the third night, from the opening of the poeii**
T E M O R A:
AN
EPIC POEM.
THE ARGUMENT. This book begins, about the middle of the third aight from the opening of the poem. The poet defcribes a kind of mift, which rofe, by night, from the lake of Lego, and was the ufual refidence of the fouls of the dead, during the in- terval between their deceafe and the funeral fong. The appearance of the ghoft of Fillan above the cave where his body lay. His voice comes to Fingal, on the rock of Cor« mul. The king ftrikes the (hield of Trenmor, which was an infallible fign of his appearing in arms himfelf. The extra* ordinary eftett of the found of the Ihield. Sul-malla, ftarting from fleep, awakes Cathmor. Their afFefting difcourfe. She infifts with him, to fue for peace} be refolves to continue the war. He directs her to retire to the neighbouring valley oi Lena, which was the refidence of an old Druid, until the battle of the next day (hould be over. He awakes his army with the found of his (hield. The ftiield defcribed. Fonar, the bard, at the defire of Cathmor, relates the firft fettle- ment of the Fir-bolg in Ireland, under their leader Larthon. Morning comes. Sul-mj£lla retires to the valley of Lona. A l^ric fong concludes the book.
BOOK VII.
FROM the wood-fkirted waters of Lego, afcend, at times, gray-bofomed mifts, when the gates of the weft are clofed on the fun's eagle-eye. Widcj over Lara's ftream, is poured the vapour dark and deep: the moon, hke a dim (hield, is fwimming through its folds. With this, clothe the fpirits of old their fudden geftures on the wind, when they ftride, from blaft to blaft, along the duflcy face of the night. Often blended with the gale, to fome war- rior's grave * they roll the mift, a gray dwelling to his ghoft, until the fongs arife.
A found
* As the mift, which rofc from the lake of Lego, oc- ofioned difeafcs and death, the bards feigned, as here,
that
104 T E M O R A : Booi FII,
A found came from th* defart ; the rufhing courfe of Conar in winds. He poured his deep mift on Fillan, at blue winding Lubar. Dark and mourn- ful fat the ghoft, bending in his gray ridge of fmoke. I'he blaft, at times, rolled him together: but the lovely form returned again. It returned with flow- bending eyes : and dark winding of locks of mift.
it was* dark. The fleeping hoft were ftill, in tli« fkirts of night. The flame decayed, on the hill of Fingal ; the king lay lonely on his fhield. His eyes were half-clofed in fleep j the voice of Fillan came. " Sleeps the huiband of Clatho ? Dwells the father of the fallen in reft ? Am 1 forgot in the folds of darknefs j lonely in the feafon of dieams ?"
" Why
that it was the refidcdtc of the ghoHs of the deceafed, during the interval between their death and the pronouncing of the funeral elegy over their tombs ; for it was not al- lowable, without that ceremony was performed, for the fplrits of the dead to mix with their anccftors, in tbeir airy balls. It was the bufinefc of the fpirit of the nearcft relation to the deceafed, to take the mift of Lego, and pour it over the grave. We find here Conar, the fon of Trenmor, the firft king of Ireland, according to Offian, performing this office for Fillan, as it was in the caulls of the family of Conar, that that hero -w&s killed.
* The night defcriptions of Offian were in high repute among fuccecding bards. One of them delivered a fenti- incnt, in a diftich, more favourable to his tafte for poetry, than to his gallantry towards the ladies. I fhall here give a tranflation of it.
" More pleafant to me is the night of Cona, dark- ftreaming from Offian's harp ; more pleafant it is to mcj than a white-bofomed dweller between my arms : than a- fair-handed daughter of heroes, in the hour of reft."
Though tradition is not very fatisfadory concerning the hlftory of this poet, it has taken care to inform us, that he was very old when he wrote the diftich. He lived (in. what age is uncertain) in one of the weftern ifles, and his name was Turloch Giabh-glas, or Turhcb oj the srajk' locks*
Book Fll. A N £ P I C P O E M. 105
" Why art thou in the midft of my dreams," fald Fingal, " as, fudden, he rofe ! Can I forget thee, aiy fon, or thy path of fire in the field ? Not fuch, on the foul of the king, come the deeds of the mighty in arms. They are not there a beam of lightning, which is feen, and is then no more. I remember thee, O f^illan, and my wrath begins to rife."
The king took his deathful fpear, and ftruck the deeply-founding (hield : his (hield that hung high on night, the difma! fign of war ! Ghofts fled on every fide, and rolled their gathered forms on the wind. Thrice from the v\inding vale arofe the voices of death. The harps* of the bards, untouched, found mournful over the hill.
He ftruck again the fliield : battles rofe in the dreams of his hoft. The wide-tumbling ftrife is gleaming over their fouls. Blue-fhielded kings de- fcend to war. Backward-looking armies fly ; and migfity deeds are half-hid, in the bright gleams of fteel.
But when the third found arofe; deer ftarted from the clefrs of their rocks. The fcreams of fowl are heard, in the defart, as each flew, frighted, on his
blaft.
* It was the opinion cf the times, that, on the night preceding the death of a perfon worthy and renowned, the harps of thofe bards, who were retained by his family, emitted melancholy founds. This was attributed, to ufe Ofhan's exprefHon, to the light touch of ghofts : who •were fiippofed to have a fore-knowledge of events. The fame opinion pre\'ai!ed long in the north, and the particu- lar found was called, the 'warnir.g voice oj the dead. The voice cf deaths, mentioned in the preceding fentencc, was of a different kind. Each perfon was fiippofed to have an attendant fpirit, who affumed his form and voice, on the night preceding his death, and appeared to fome, in the attitude, in which the perfon was to die. The voices of death were the foreboding ihrieks of thofe fpirits.
io6 T E M 0 R j\ : Book Flh
blaft. The fons of Albion half-rofe, and half- aflumed their fpears. But filence rolled back on the hoft : they knew the ftiield of the king. Sleep re- turned to their eyes : the field was dark and ftill.
No fleep was thine in darknels, blue-eyed daugh- ter of Conmor ! Sul-malla heard the dreadful fhield, and rofe, amidft the night. Her fteps are towards the king of Atha. " Can danger fhake his daring foul !" In doubt, fhe ftands, with bending eyes. Heaven burns with all its ftars.
Again the fiiield refounds I She rufhed. She ftopt. Her voice half-rofe. It failed. She" faw him, amidft his arms, that gleamed to heaven's fire. She faw him dim in his locks, that rofe to nightly wind. Away, for fear, flie turned her fteps. "Why fliould the king of Erin awake ? Thou are not a dream to his reft, daughter of Inis-huna."
More dreadful rung the (hield. Sul-malla ftarts. Her helmet falls. Loud-echoed Lubar's rock, as over it rolled the fteel. Burfting from the dreams of night, Cathmor half-rofe, beneath his tree. He faw the form of the maid, above him, on the rock. A red ftar, with twinkling- beam, looked dowa through her floating hair.
" Who comes through night to Cathmor, in the dark feafon of his dreams ? Bringeft thou ought of war ? Who art thou, fon of night ? Standeft thou before me, a form of the times of old ? A voice from the fold of a cloud, to warn me of Erin's danger ?"
" Nor traveller of night am I, nor voice from folded cloud : but I warn thee of the danger of Erin. Doft thou hear that found ? It is not the feeble, king of Atha, that rolls his figns on night."
•' Let the warrior roll his figns ; to Cathmor they are the found of harps. My joy is great, voice of night, and burns over all my thoughts, 7"his is the mufic of kings, on lonely hills, by night ; when they light their daring fouls, the fons of mighty deeds ! The feeble dwell alone, in the valley of the
breeze \.
BtJ ni. AN EPIC POEM. 107
breeze ; where mifts lift their morning ilcirts, from the blue winding ftreams."
•' Not feeble, thou leader of heroes, were they, the fathers of my race. They dwelt in the dark- nefs of battle : in their diftant lands. Yet delights not my foul, in the figns of death ! He*, who ne- ver yields, comes forth : Awake the bard of peace!"
Like a rock with its trickling waters, ftood Cath- mor in his tears. Her voice came, a breeze, on his foul, and waked the memory of her land ; where fhe dwelt by her peaceful ftreams, before he came to the war of Conmor.
" Daughter of ftrangers," he faid ; (fhe trembling turned away) " long have 1 marked in her armour, the young pine of Inis-huna. But my foul, 1 faid, is folded in a ftorm. Why fliould that beam arife, till my fteps return in peace ? Have I been pale in thy prefence, when thou bidft me to fear the king ? The time of danger, O maid, is the feafon of my (bul ; for then it fwells a mighty ftream, and rolls me on the foe.
" Beneath the mofs-covered rock of Lona, near liis own winding ftream ; gray in his locks of age, dwells Clonmalf king of harps. Above him is his
echoing
* FIngal is faid to have never been overcome in battle. From this proceeded that title of honour which is al- ways beftowcd on him in tradition, Fioti-gbal 71a buai' VisxGKL OF VICTORIES. In a poem, juft now in my hands, which celebrates fome of the great actions of Arthur the famous Britlfli hero, that appellation is often bellowed ou i him. The poem, from the phraftology, appears to be ' ancicHt ; and is, perhaps, though that is not mentioned, a I tranflation from the WelOi language.
i Claon-mal, crooked eyc-broix'. From the retired
j Tife of this perfon, it appears that he was of the order ot
; the Druids ; which fuppofition is not, at all, invalidated
by the appellation of king af harps, here bellowed on l.ini ;
for all agree that the bards were of the number of the
Druids originally.
.I08 T E M 0 R A ; Book FH. ,
echoing osk, and the dun bounding of roes. The; noife of our ftrife reaches his ear, as he bends in the. thoughts of years. There let thy reft be, Sul-mallaJ until our battle ceafe. Until I return, in my arms, from the fxirts of the evening mill that rifes, oa Lona, round the dwelling of my love."
A light fell on the foul of the maid ; it rofe kin- \ died before the king. She turned her face to Cath- '; mor ; her locks are ftruggling with winds. " Soon- er fhall the eagle of heaven be torn, from the ftreams of his roaring wind, when he fees the dun prey, be- fore him, the young fons of the bounding roe, than thou, O Cathmor, be turned from the ftrife of re- nown. Soon may I fee thee, warrior, from the /kirts of the evening mift, when it is rolled aroUnd n c, on Lona of the ftreams. While yet thou art diftant far, ftrike, Cathmor, ftrike the Ihield, that joy may return to my daikned foul, as 1 lean on the mofty rock. But if thou ftiould fall — I am in the land of grangers ; O fend thy voice, from thy cloud, to the maid of Inis-huna."
" Young branch of green- headed Lumon, why doft thou Ihake in the ftorm ? Often has Cathmor returned from darkly-rolling wars. The darts of death are but hail to me ; tiiey have often bounded from my ftiield. I have rifen brightened from bat- tle, like a meteor from a ftormy cloud. Return not^ fair beam, from thy vale, when the roar of battle grows. Then might the foe efcape, as from my fa- thers of old.
" They told to Son-mor*, of Clunar f, ftain by Cormac, the giver oi fiiells. Three days darkned
Son-mor,
* Son-mor, tall handfome man. He \vr>s the father of Borbar-duthul, chief of Atha, and grandfather to Cath- mor himfelf.
t Cluan-er, man of the field. This chief was killed i in battle by Cormac Mac-Conar, king of Ireland, the fa- ther of Rofcrana, tlie Cift wife of Fingal. 'l"he (lory is alluded to in other poems.
Book ni. ANEPICPOEM. IO9
Son-mor, over his brother's fall. His fpoufe be- held the filent king, and forefaw his fleps to war. She prepared the bow, in fecret, to attend Tier blue- fhieided hero. To her dwelt darkneis at Atha, when the warrior moved to his hM%. Yvovcx their hundred llreams, by night, poured down the fons of Alnecma. They had heard the fhield of the king, and their rage arofe. In clanging arms, they moved along, towards UUin the land of groves. Son-mor ftruck his ihield, at times, the leader of the war.
" Far behind followed Sul-allin*, over the fireamy hills. She was a light on the mountain, when they croffed the vale below. Her fteps were ftately on the vale, when they role on the mofly hill. She feared to approach the king, who left her in Atha of hinds. Bat when the roar of battle rofej when hoft was rolled on hoft 5 when Son-mor burnt like the lire of heaven in clouds, with her fpreading hair came Sul-aliin ; for fhe trembled for her king. He ftopt the rufliing ftrite to fave the love of heroes. The foe fled by night j Clunar llept without his blood ; the blood which ought to be poured upon tlie warrior's tomb.
" Nor rofe the rage of Son-mor, but his days were dark and flow. Sul-allin wandered by her gray f!:reams, with her tearful eyes. Often did flie look, on the hero, when he was folded in his thoughts. But flie Ihrunk from his eyes, and turned her lone fteps away. Battles rofe, like a tempei% and drove the mifl from his foul. He beheld, with joy, her fteps in the hall, and the white rifing of her hands on the harp.
I In t liis arms flrode the chief of A.tha, to where ! his fliield hung, high, in nigiit : high on a moiTy
Vol. II. K bough,
* Suil-al'uin, keaut'tful eye, the vvifs of Sori-mor. t To avoid m.ihiplying notes, I Hial} give here the ligni- £c:-.tion of the Dames of ttie ftars engraved on the Ihield.
Gean-matlion,
210 temora: Booi. FIL
bough, over Lubar's dreamy roar. Seven boffes rofe on the ihield ; the feven voices of the king, which his warriors received, from the wind, and marked over all their tribes.
Cn each bofs is placed a ftar of night ; Canmathon with beams unfhorn ; Col-derna rifing from a cloud: Uloicho robed in mill ; and the foft beam of Cath- lin glittering oti a rock. Fair-gleaming on its own blue wave, Reldurath half-finks its wefltrn light. The red eye of Berthin looks, through a grove, on the flow-moving hunter, as he returns, through (howery night, with the fpoils of the bounding roe. Wide in the midft, arofe the cloudlefs beams of Ton- thena ; Ton-thtna which looked, by n ght, on the courfe of the fea-toffed Larthon : Larthon, the firl^ ■of Bolga's race, who travelled on the winds *. White- bofomed fpread the fails of the king, towards iireamy Inis-fail ; dun night was rolled betbre him, with its fkirts of ir.ift. The winds were changeful in heaven, and rolled him from wave to wave. Then rofe the fiery-haired Ton-thena, and laughed from her parted cloud. Larthon f rejoiced at the guiding beam, as it faint gleamed on the tunibling waters.
Beneath
Ctan-n-iathon, head of the bear, Col-derna, Jlant and Jl:arp beam. Ul-oicho, ruler of night. Cathlin, beam of tbe ivave. Keii-duratii, _/?ar of the tiviligbi. Ber- thin, fire of the hill. Tonthena, meteor cftbe 'wanjes. I'hefe etymologies, excepting that of Cean-ir.athon, are pretty exac\. Of it I ain not fo certain ; for it is not ve- ry prcbr.ble, that the Fir-bolg had diftingiiillied a con- flcilation, fo very early st the days of Lrathoa by the name of tlie bear.
* To travel on the 'ivi7:ds, o poetical exprcffion for ■ Tiiilng.
t Larthon is compounded of Lear-, fea, and tbony wave. 1 his nan e was given to the chief of the firft colo- n\ of the Fir-bolg, who fettled in Ireland, cn accctuit of ill', knowledge in navigation. A part of a old poem is ftill
extant,
Book FIL ANEPICPOEM. Ill
Beneath the fpear of Cathmor, awaked that voice which awakes the bards. They came, dark-winding, from every fide ; each, with the found of his harp. Before them rejoiced the king, as the traveller, in the day of the fun; when he hears, far-rolling around, the murmur of molTy ftreams ; ftreains that burrt, in . the defert, from the rock of roes,
" Why," faid Fonar, " hear. we the voice of the king, in the feafon of his reft ? "Were the dim forms of thy fathers bending in thy dreams ? Perhaps they ftand on that cloud, and wait for Fonar's fong; oftea they come to the fields where their fons are to lift the fpear. Or fhall our voice arile for him who lifts K 2 the
extant, concerning this hero. The author of it, probably, took the hint from the epifodc in this book, relating to tiie firft difcovcry of Ireland by Lai thon. It abounds with thofc romantic fables of giants and magicians, which diflinguifli t!ie compofitions of the lefs ancient bards. The defcrip- tions, contained in it, are ingenious and proportionable to the niagnitude of the perfons introduced ; but, being un- natural, they are infipid and tedious. Had the bard kept within the bouiids of probability, his genius v.'as far from bving contemptible. The exordium cf this poem is not d.fiitute of merit ; but it is the only part of it that I think V rthy of being preCentcd to the reader,
'■ Who firft fent the black fliip, through ocean, like a .whale through the biirding of foam? Look, from iby
t darkefs, on Cronath, Oifian of the harps of old ! Send thy- ligiit on the blue-rcUing waters, that 1 may behold the king. I fee him dirk in bis own liidl of oak ! fca-tolTed Larthon, thy foul is fire. It is carelefs as the wind of
• thy fails ; as the wave that rolls by thy fide. But tljc filent green ide is before thee, with i*.s for.s, who are talL as woody Lumon; Lumon which fsiids from its top a tlioufand llreams, white-wandering down its fides."
It may, perhaps, be for the credit of tbis bard, to tranf- late no more of this poem ; for the continuation of his de- fcriptlon of the Irifh giants betrays his want of judge- ment..
112 TEMORO: Book FIl.
the fpear no more ; he that confumed the field, from Mo ma of the groves r"
" Not forgot is that cloUd in war, bard of other times. High flialJ his tomb rife, on Moi-lena, the dwelling of renown. But, now, roll back my foul to the times of ray fathers : to the years when firft they rofe, on Inis-lmna's waves. Nor alone plea- fant to Cathmor is the remembrance of wood- cover- ed Lumon. Lumon the land of Iheams, the dwel- ling of v^'hite-boforaed maids."
'* Lumon * of foamy ftreams, tliou rifcil on Fo- nar's foul ! Thy fun is on thy fide, on the rocks of thy bending trees. Tlie dun roe is feen from thy furze; the deer lifts his branchy head ; for he fees, at times, the hound, on the half-covered heath. Slow, on the vale, are the fteps of maids ; the white-armed daugh- ters of the bow : they lift their blue eyes to the hill, from amidfi: tlieir wandering locks. Not there is the flride of I.arthon, chief of Inis-huna. He mounts the wave on his own dark oak, in Cluba's ridgy bay. 'i'ha! oak which he cut from Lumon, to bound along the fea. The maids turn their eyes away, lefl the king rtiould be lowJy laid ; for never had they leen a fliip, dark rider of the wave !
" Now he dares to call the winds, and to mix widi th.e mifi: of ocean. Blue Inis-fail rofe, in fmoke; but dark-fkirted night came down. The fons of Bolga feared. The fiery-haired Ton-thena rofe. Cuibin's bay received the (hip, in the bofom of its echoing woods. There, iffucd a ftream, from Du- thuma's horrid cave; where fpirits gleamed, at times, with their half-fini(hed forms.
*' Dreams defcended on Larthon : he faw feven fpirits of iiis fathers. He heard their half- formed
words,
* Lumon, as I have remarked in a prereJing note, was a hill in Inis-huna, near the refidence of Sul-malla. This epifode has an immediate conneclion with what is faid of Larthon, in the defcription of Cathmor's fliidd.
JBoci FU. A N E P I C P O E M. 1 13
words, and dimly beheld the times to come. Ke beheld the kings of Atha, the fons of future days. They led their hofts along the field, like ridges of inift, which winds pour in autumn, over Atha of the groves.
" Larthon raifed the hall of Samla *, to the foft found of the harp. He went forth to the roes of Erin, to their wonted ftreams. Nor did he forget green -headed Lumon ; he often bounded over his leas, to where white handed f'lathal f looked from the hill of roes. Lumon of the foamy ftreams, thou rlfei'i on Fonar's foul."
7"he beam awaked in the eaft. The mifty heads of the mountains rofe. Valleys (hew, on every fide, the gray-wind;ng of their ftreams. His hoft heard the Ihield of Cathmor: at once they rofe around ; like a crowded fea, when firft it feels the wings cf the wind. The waves know not whither to roll ; they lift their troubled heads.
Sad and flow retired Sul-malla to Lona of the ftreams. She went and often turned ; her blue eyes rolled in tears. But when fhe came to the rock, that darkly covered Lena's vale : ftie, looked from her burfting foul, on the king \ and funk, at oncej behind.
Son J of Alpln, ftrike the ftring. Is there ought
of joy in the harp t Pour it then, on the foul of
Oflian : it is folded in mift. I hear thee, O bard,
in my night. But ceafe the lighty-trembling found.
K 3 The
* Samla, apparitions., fo called frcm the vifion of Larthon, concerning his pofterity.
t Flathal, heavenly, exquifiteJy beautiful. She was the wife of Larthon.
^ The original of this lyric ode is one of the mod beau- tiful paffages of the poem. The harmony and variety cf its verfification, prove that the knowledge of mufic was confiderably advanced in the days of Offian. See Uie fpe-- ciinen of the original.
114 temora: Book fit.
The joy of grief belongs to Offian, amldft his dark- brown years.
Green thorn of the hill of ghofts, that fhakeft thy head to nightly winds ! I hear no found in thee ; is there no fpirit's windy flcirt now ruftling in thy leaves ? Often are the fleps of the dead, in the dark- eddying blafts ; when the moon, a dun fliield, from the eaft, is rolled along the fky.
UJlin, Carril, and Ryno, voices of the days of old ! Let me hear you, in the darknefs of Selma, and awake the foul of fongs. I hear you not, ye children of mufic, in what hall of the clouds is your reft ? Do you touch the fnadowy harp, robed with morning mift, where the fun comes founding forth from his green- headed waves ?
TEMORA I
T E M O R A:
AN
EPIC POEM.
THE ARGUMENT. The fourth morning, from the opeuing of the poem, comes on. Fingal, ftill continuing in the place to which he had re- tired on the preceding night, is iecn, at intervals, through the mift, which covered the rock of Cormull The defcent of the king is defcribed. He orders Gaul, Dermid, andCar- ril the bard, to go to the valley of Cluna, and to condiift, from thence, to the Caledonian army, Ferad-artho, the fon of Cairbe, the only perfon remaining of the family of Conar, the firlt king of Ireland The king takes the command of the army, and prepares for battle. Marching towards the enemy, he comes to the cave of Lubar, where the body of Fillan lay. Upon feeing his dog Bran, who lay at the en- trance of the cave, his grief returns. Cathmor arranges the army of the Fir-bolg in order of battle. The appear- ance of that hero. The general conflift is defcribed. The aftions of Fingal and Cathmor. A ftorm. The total rout of the Fir-bolg. The two kings engage in a column of mift, on the banks of Lubar. Their attitude and confe- rence after the combat The death cf Cathmor. Fingal refigns the fpear of Trenmor to Oflian. The ceremonies ob- ferved on that occafion. The fpirit of Cathmor appears to Sul-malla, in the valley of Lona. Her forrow. Evening comes on. A feaft is prepared. The coming of Ferad- artho is announced by the fongs of a hundred bards. The poem clofes with a fpeech of Fingal..
BOOK VIII.
AS when the wintry winds have feized the waves of the mountain-lake, have feized them, in ftormy night, and clothed them over with ice ; white to the hunter's early eye, the billows ftill feem to roll. He turns his ear to the found of each unequal ridge. But each is filent, gleaming, ftrewn with boughs and tufts of grafs, which fhake and whiftle to the wind, over their gray feats of froft. So filent fhone to the morning ridges of Morven's hoftj as each warrior looked up from his helmet to- wards
2 t 6 T E M O R A : Jiook Fill
wards the hill of the king; the cloud- covered hill o Fingal, where he ftrode in the rolling of mift. A\ times is the hero feen, greatly dim in all his arms From thought to thought rolled the war along his mighty foul.
Now is the coming forth of tlie king. Firft ap- peared the fword cf Lunc ; the fpear half ifTuino from a cloud, the fhield rtill dim in mift. But when the flride of the king came abroad, with al! his gray dewy locks in thev. nd; then rofe the iTiouts of his hoft over every moving tribe. They gathered, gleaming, round with all their echoing fhields. So rife the green feas round a fplrit, that comes dowr from the fqually wind. The traveller hears the fount afar, and lifts his head over the rock. He looks on the troubled bay, and thinks he dimly fees the form. The v^aves fport, unw^ildy, round, with all their backs of foam.
Far-diftant flood tlie fon of Morni, Duthno's race, and Cona's bard. We flood far-diftant ; each be- neath his tree. We fhuned the eyes of the king ; we had not conquered in tlie field. A little ftream rolled at my feet: I touched its light wave with my fpear. I touched it with my fpear ; nor there v^as the foul of Oflian. It darkly rofe, from thought to thought, and fent abroad the figh.
" Son of Morni>" faid the king,. " Dermid, hunter of roes ! why are ye dark, like two rocks, each with its trickling waters ? No wrath gathers on the foul of Fingal, againft the chiefs of men. Ye are my ftrength of battle; the kindling of my joy in peace. My early voice was a pleafant gale to your ears when Fillan prepared the bow. The fon of Fingal is not here, nor yet the chace of the bounding roes. But why fliould the breakers of fliields ftand, darken- ed, far away ?"
Tall they ftrode towards the king ; they faw him turned Mora's wind. His tears came down, for his blue-eyed fon, Nfvho flept in the cave of ftreams.
But.
Book Fin. ANEPICPOEM. 117
But he brightened before them, and fpoke to the broaJ-fhielded kings.
" Crommal, with woody rocks, and mifty top, the field of winds, pours forth, t© the fight, blue Lubar's fireamy roar. Behind it rolls clear-winding Lavath, in the ftill vale of deer. A cave is dark in a rock; above it ftrong-Vv'inged eagles dwell; broad- headed oaks, before it found in Cluna's wind. Within in his locks of youth is Feradartho*, blue- eyed
* Fer:;J-artho was the fon of Cairbar Mac-Cormac, king of Ireland. He was tlic only one remaining of the race of Conar, the fon of Trenmor, the firft Irifli monarch, according to Offian. In order to make this paffage tlw- roughiy nndcrQood, It may not be improper to recapitu- late Ibme pnt of what has been fald in preceding notes. Upon the death of Conar, the fon of Trenmor, his fon Coi-n:ac lucceeded on the Irifn throne. Cormac reigned long. His children were, Cairbar, who furceded him, and Ros-crano, the firfl; wife of FIngal. Cairbar, long before the death of his father Gorrnac, had taken to wife Bos- gala, the daughter of Colgar, one of the moft powerful chiefs in Connaught, and had, by her, Artho, afterwards king ci Ireland. Soon after Artho arrived at man's c- flate, his mother Bos-gala died, and Cairbar took to wife Beltanno, the daughter of Conachar of Ullln, who brought him a fon, whom he called Fcrad-artho, 1. e. a man in place of Artho. The occasion of the name was this. Artho, when his brother was born, was abfent, on an ex- pedition in the foiith of Ireland. A falfe report was brought to his father that he was killed. Cairbar., to nfe the words of the poem on the fubjeft, d^ark- \ened for his fair-haired fon. He turfied to the [youjig beam of light, the fon cf Beltanno of Conachar. \Tbon fhalt be Ferad-artbo, be faid, a fire before thy race. Cairbar, foon after, died, nor did Artho long fur- vlve Iilm. Artho was fncceeded in the Irifli throne, by his fon Cormac, who, in his minority, was murdered by Cair- bar, the fon of Borbar-duthal. Ferad-artho, fjvs tradi- tion, was very young, when the expedition of Fingal, to
fettfe
ij8 temora^ Book Fill.
eyed king, the fon of broad-fhielded Cairbar, frotn Ullin of the roes. Pie liftens to the voice of Condan, as gray, he bends in feeble light. He liftens, for his foes dwell in the echoing halls of Temora. He comes, at times, abroad, in the fkirts of milt, to pierce the ■ bounding roes. When the fun looks on the field, nor by the rock nor ftream, is he ! He fhuns the race of Bo!ga, who dwell in his father's hall. Tell him, that Fingal lifts the fpear, and that his foes perhaps may faij.
" Lift up, O Gaul, the fhield before him. Stretch, Dermid, Temora's fpear. Be thy voice in his ear, O Carril, with the deeds of his fathers. Lead him to green Moi-lena, to the dufky field of ghofts ; for there I fall forward in battle, in the folds of war. Before dan night defcends, come to high Dunmora's top. Look, from the gray rolling of
mi ft,
fettle him on the t'lrone of Ireland, happened. Daring the fliort reign of young Cormac, Ferad-artho lived at the royal palace of Temora. Upon the murder of the king, Condan, the bard, conveyed Ferad-artho, privately, to the cave of Gluna, bihind the mountain Crommal, in UKtcr, where they both lived concealed, during the ufurpatlon of the family cf Atha. AH thefe particulars, concerning Ferad-artho, may be gathered from the compofitions ot" Offian: A bard, lefs ancient, has delivered the whole Mftory, in a poem juft now in my poiTeffion. It has little rierit, if we except tlie fcene between Ferad-artho, ard the nisffengers of Fingal, upon their arrival, in the valKy cf Ciuna. After bearing cf the great adlions of Fingal, the young prince propofes the following qr.ellions concern- ing him, to Gaul and Dermid. " Is the king tall as the rock of my cave ? Is his fpear a fir of Gluna ? Is he a rough- winged blaft, on the mountain, which takes the green oak by the head, and tears it from its hill ? Glitters Lubar within his fti ides, when he fends his ftately fteps along T. Nor is he tall, faid Gaul, as that rock : nor glitter, llreams within his ftrides ; but his fotd is a mighty floodi.. like the llrength of Uiiin's fcas."
■Book Fill. AN EPIC POEM. 119
iriift, on Lena of the ftreams. If there my flan da rd Hiail float on wind, over Lubar's gleaming courfe, then has not Fingal failed in the laft of his helds."
Such were his words : nor aught replied the filent, ftriding kings. They looked fide-long, on Erin's hoil, and darkened, as they went. Never before had they left the king, in the niidft of the ilcrmy field. Behind them, touching at times his harp, the gi ay- haired Carril moved. He forefaw the fall of the people, and mournful was the found ! It was like a breeze that comes, by fiis, over Lego's reedy lake; when fleep half-defcends on the hunter, within his mofly cave.
" Why bends the bard of Cona," faid Fingal, *' over his fecret flream ? Is this a time for forrow, father of low-laid Ofcar ? Be the warriors * remem- bered
* It is fuppofed Malvina fpeaks the following foliloquy. Malvina is like the bow of tl;e ihower, in the fecret val- jey of flreams: it is bright; but the drops of heaven roll •on its bl-ended light. They fay, that I am fair within my locks ; but, on my brightnefs is the wandering of tears. Darknels flies over my foul, as the dulky wave of the breeze, along the grafs of Lutha. Yet have not the roes ilcd me, when I moved between the hills. Pleafant, be- neath my white hand, arofe the found of harps. What then, daughter of Lutha, travels over thy foul, like the dreary path of a ghoft, along the nightly beam ? Should theyourg warrior fall, in the roar of his troubled fields !
■'Young virgins of Lutha arile, call back the wandering thoughts of Malvina. Awake the voice of the harp, a- lor,g my echoing vale. Then ihall my foul come forth,
1 ;like a light from the gates of the morn, when clouds are
I rolled around them, with their broken fides.
' '■ " Dweller of my thoughts by night, whofe form iafccnds in troubled fields, why dofl thou Ilir up my ■foul, thou far-diftant fon of the king ! Is that the fliip of my love, its dark courfe through the ridges of ocean ? IIo".' art thou fo fudden, Ofcar, from the heath of Qiields ?" I The
1 20 T E M O R A : Book niJ
bered in peace ; when echoing (hields are heard no more. Bend, then, in grief, over the flood, when; blows the mountain breeze. Let them pafs on thy foul, the blue-eyed dwellers of Lena. But Errir rolls to war, wide-tumbling,, rough, and dark. Lift, OfTian, lift the fhield. 1 am alone, my fon !'
As comes the fudden voice of winds to the be- calmed fhip of Inis-huna, and drives it large, along the deep, dark rider of the wave: fo the voice of Fingal fent OfTian, tall, along the heath. He lifted: high, his fhining Ihield, in the dufky wing of war: like the broad, blank moon in the ikirt of a cloud before the ftorms arife.
Loud, from Mofs-covered Mora, poured down, at once, the broad-winged war. Fingal led his people forth, king of Morven of ftreams. On high fpreads the eagle's wing. His gray hair is poured on his fhoulders broad. In thunder are his mighty ftrides. He often ftood, and faw behind, the wide gleaming rolling of armour. A rock he feemed, gray over with ice, whofe woods are high in wind. Bright ftreams leap from its head, and fpread their foam on biafts.
Now he came to Lubar's cave, where Fillan darkly flept. Bran ftill lay on the broken fliield : the eagle- wing is ftrewed on winds. Bright, from withered- furze, looked forth the hero's fpear. Th^n grief flirred the foul of the king, like whirlwinds blacken- ing on a lake. He ruined his fudd'en ftep, and lean- ed on his bending fpear.
White-breafted Bran came bounding with joy to the known path of Fingal. He came and looked to- wards the cave, where the blue-eyed hunter lay; for he was wont to ftride, with morning to the dewy bed of the roe. It v;as then the tears of the king
came
The reft of this poem, it is faid, confifted of a dialogue between Ullin and Malvina, wherein the diflrefs of the htter is carried to the highcit pitch.
Book Fill. ANEPICPOEM. 121
came down, and all his foul was dark. But as t!)e rifing wind rolls away the ftorni of rain, and leaves the white ftreams to the fun, and high hills with their heads of grafs ; fo the returning war bright- ened the mind of Fingal. He bounded *, on his fpear, over Lubar, and rtruck his echoing fhield. His ridgy hoft bend forward, at once, with all their pointed rtcel.
Vol. II. L Nor
* The Iridi compofitions concerning Fingal invariably fpe:.k of him as a giant. Of thefe Hiljernian poems there
Iare now many in my hands. From the language, and al- hilions to the times in which they were writ, 1 fliould fix the date of their compofition in the fifteenth and fixteenth centuries. In fome paffages, the poetry is far from want- ing merit ; but the fable is unnatural, and the whole con- duel of the pieces injudicious. I fliall give one inftance of the extravagant fidions of the Irlfli bards, in a poem which they, moft unjuftly, afcribe to Ollian. The ilory of it is this : Ireland being threatened with an invafion from fome part of Scandinavia, Fingal fent Offian, Ofcar, and Ca-olt, to watch the bay, in which it was expected the enemy was to land. Ofcar, unluckily, fell aflcep, before the Scandinavians appeared; and, great as he was, fays the Iriili bard, he had one bad property, that no lefs could waken him before his time, than cutting off one of bis fingers, or throwing a great ftone againlf his head ; and it was dangerous to come near him, on thofe occa- fions, till he had recovered himfelf, and was fully awake. Ca-olt, who was employed by Offian to waken his fon, made choice of throwing the ftone againft his head, as the Icaft dangerous expedient. The flone, rebounding from iic liero's head, fhook, as it rolled along, the hill for three miles round. Ofcar rofe in rage, fought bravely, ind, fmgly, vanquiflicd a wing of the enemy's army^
f'lius the bard goes on till Fingal put an end to the war, y the total rout of the Scandinavians. Peurilc, and even '-r'cable. as thefe fictions arc, yet Keating and O'Fla- have no better authority than the poems Vvfhich con- -.hem, for all that they write concerning Fion Mac- •iiihal, and the pretended militia of Ireland.
122 temora: £ook nil
Nor Erin heard, with fear the found: wide they, came rolling along. Dark. Malthos, in the wing of war, looks forward from fhaggy brows. Next rofe thati beam of light Hidalla ; then the fide-long- looking" gloom of Maronnan. Blue-fliielded Clonar lifts the; fpear ; Cormar fhakes his bulhy locks on the wind. Slowly, from behind a rock, role the bright form of Atha. Firft appeared his two pointed fpears, then the half of his burniflied fhield : like the rifing of a. nightly meteor, over the vale of ghofts. But when lie fhone all abroad : the hofts plunged, at once, in- to ftrife. The gleaming waves of ftecl are poured on either fide.
As meet two troubled feas, with the rolling of all their waves, when they feel the wings of contending winds, in the rock-fided firth of Lumon ; along the echoing hills is the dim courfe of ghofts : from the blali fall the torn groves on the deep, amidft the foamy path of whales. So mixed the hofts ! Now Fineal ; now Cathmor came abroad. The dark tumbling of death is before them : the gleam of! broken Iteel is rolled on their fteps, as, loud, the high-bounding kings hewed down the ridge of fhields.
Maronnan fell, by Fingal, laid large acrofs ftream. The waters gathered by his fide, and leapt gray over his bofiy fhield. Clonar is pierced by Cath- mof : nor yet lay the chief 0:1 earth. An oak feized his hair in his fall. Kis helmet rolled on the ground. Byl its thong, hung his broad fhield; over it wandered hisi ftreaming blood. Tlamin * Ihall weep, in the hall, and i
ftrike
* TLi-mln, inlldly [oft. The loves of Clonar ani'. Tlamin were rendered famous in the north, by a fragment cf a Lyric poem, ftill prefcrvcd, which is aTcribed to Of- fian. It is a dialogue between Clonar and Tla-min. ShCj begins with a folilcquy, which he overhears.
Tlamin. " Clonar, fon of Conglas of I-mor, yo«ng hunter of dun-fidcd rocs ! where art thou laid, amidft ruflies, beneath tht palling wing of the breeze ? I behold thee, my
love,
Book Fin. AN EPIC POEM. 1 23
ftrike her heaving breafi:. Nor did Odlan forget the fpear, in the wing of his war. He ftrewed the field with dead. Young Hidalla came. Soft voice of ftreamy Clonra ! Why doft thou lift the fteel ? O that we meet in the ftrife of fong, in thy own rufhy vale ! Malthos beheld him low, and darkened as he rufhed along. On either fide of a ftream, we bend in the echoing ftrife. Heaven comes rolling down : around burft the voices of fqually winds. Hills are clothed, at times, in fire. Thunder rolls in wreaths of mift.
[ In darknefs (hrunk the foe : Morven's warriors ftood aghaft. Still I bent over the ftream, amidit my
; whiftling locks.
Then rofe the voice of Fingal, and the found of
the flying foe. I faw the king, at times, in lightning
darkly ftriding in his might. I ftruck. my echoing
L 2 fliield,
Jove, in the plain of thy own dark ftreams ! The clung thorn is rolled by the wind, and ruftles along his fliield. Bright in his locks he lies : the thoughts of his dreams fly, darkening, over his face. Thou thinkeft of the battles of Offian, young fon of the echoing ifle !
" Half-hid, in the grove, I fit down. Fly back, ye mifts of the hill. Why fliould ye hide her love from the blue eyes of Tla-min of harps ?
C/oniW. " As the fpirit, feen in a dream, flies off froni our opening eyes, wc think we behold his bright path be- tween the clofing hills; fo fled the daughter of Clun-gal, (from the fight of Clonar of fhlelds. Arife, fiom the ga- fthcring of trees ; blue-eyed TIamin arife.
Tlamiii. " 1 turn me away from his fteps. Wliy fliould he know of my love! My white breaR is heaving over fighs, as foam on the dark courfe of ftreams. But he pal- fes away in his armsl Son of Conglas, my foul is fad.
Clonar. " It was the fliield of Fingal ! the voice of kings from Sclma of harps ! My path is towards greea Erin. Arife, f.iir light, from thy fiiadcs. Come to the field of my foul, there is the fpreading of hofls. Arife, on Clonar's troubled foul, young daughter of blue (hield- cd Clungal." 1 Clungal was the chief of I-mor, one of the Hebrides.
124 T E M 0 R A : Book Fill-
Shield, and hung forward on the fteps of Alnecma : the foe is rolled before me, like a wreath of fmoke.
The fun looked forth from his cloud. The hun- dered ftreams of Moi-lena (hone. Slow rofe the blue columns of mifl, againft the glittering hill. Where are the mighty kings .'* Nor by that ftream, nor wood, are they ! I hear the clang of arms ! Their ftrife is in the bofom of mift. Such is the contending of fpirits in a nightly cloud, when they ftrive for the wintry wings of winds, and the roll- ing of the foam-covered waves.
I rurtied along. The giay mift rofe. Tall, gleaming, they rtocd at Lubar. Cathmor leaned a- gainft a rock. His half- fallen fliield received the Aream, that leapt from the mofs above. Towards liim is the flride of Fingal ; he faw the hero's blood, fiis fword fell llowly to his fide. He fpoke, midlt his daikeningjoy.
" Yields the race of Borbar-duthal r Or ftill does he lift the fpear ? Not unheard is tiiy name, in Sel- ma, in the green dwelling of Grangers. It has come, , like the breeze of his defart, to the ear of Fingal. Come to mv hill of feafls : the mighty fail, at times.
No
* Fingal and Cathmor. The condufl of the poet, in this pafiEge is remarkable- His .numerous defcriptions of iinglc con)bats had already cxhaufled the fubjeCl. No- thing new, nor adequate to our high idea of the kings, , iculd be faid. OlTian, therefore, throws a column cf mift over the whole, and leaves the combat to tlie imagination of the reader. Poets have almoll; univerfally failed in their defcriptions of this fort. Not all the ftrength of Homer could fuftain, with dignitv, the minuti£ of a fingle com- bat. The throwing of a fpear, and the braying of a fliield, "as fome of our own poets mod elegantly exprefs it, con- vey no grand ideas. Our Imagination flretches beyond, and, confcquently, defpifcs, the defcription. It were, tiicrefore, well, for fome poets, in my opinion, though it Is, perhaps, fomewhat fmgular) to have, fometimes, like Offian, thrown mift over their fingle conibats.
Booi Fill. A N E P I C P O E M. 1 25
No fire am I to low-laid foes : I rejoice not over the fall of the brave. To clofe * the wound is mine : I have known the herbs of the hills. I feized their fair heads, on high, as they waved by their facred llreams. Thou art dark, and filent, king of Atha of ftrangers."
" By Atha of the dreams," he faid, " there rifes a moify rock. On its head is the wandering of boughs, within the courfe of winds. Dark, in its face, is a cave with its own loud rill. There have I heard the tread of ftrangers f , when they pafTed to my hall of Ihells. Joy rofe, like a flame on mv foul : L 3 1 bleft
* Fingal is very much celebrated, in tradition, for his knowledge in the virtues of herbs. The Irilh poems, con- cerning him, often reprefent him, curing the wounds which his chiefs received in battle. They fable concerning him, that he was in poffeflion of a cup, containing the ef- fence of herbs, which inflantaneoully healed wounds. The knowledge of curing the wounded, was, till of late uni- verfal among the Highlanders. We hear of no other dif- order, which requii'ed the Ikill of phyfic. The whole- fomnefs of the climate, and an adlive life, fpent in hunt- ing, excluded difeafes.
t The hofpitable difpofitlon of Cathmor was unparal- leled. He rcfieds, with pleafure, even in his laft mo- ments, on the relief he had afforded to Grangers. The very tread of their feet was pleafant in his ear. His hof- pitality was not paffed unnoticed by fucceeding bards ; for, with them, it became a proverb, when they defcribed the hofpitable difpofition of a hero, that be '■.vas like Catbmor of Atha., the friend of Jirangers^ It will feem Orange, that, in all the Irifh traditions, there is no mention made of Cathmor. This muft be attributed to the revolutions and domeHic confufions which happened in tlut illand, and utterly cut off all the real traditions con- cerning fo flaort a period. All that we have related of the ftatc of Ireland before the fifth century is of late in- vention, and the work of ill informed fcnachies and in- judicioui bards.
1 26 T E M 0 R A : Book P'lII.
I bleft the echoing rock. Here be my dwelling, in darknefs in my graffy vale. From this I fhail mount the breeze, that purfues my ihiftle's beard ; or look down on blue-winding Atha, from its wandering mift."
" Why fpeaks the king of the tomb ? Offian ! the warrior has failed ! Joy meet thy foul, like a ftream, Cathmor, friend of Grangers I My fon, I hear the call of years : they take my fpear as they pafs along. Why does not Fingal, they feem to fay, reft with- in his hall ? Doft thou always delight in blood ? In the tears of the fad. No: ye darkly-rolling y^ars, Fingal delights not in blood. Tears are wintry ftreams that warte away my foul. But when I lie down to reft, then comes the mighty voice of war. It wakes me, in my hall, and calls forth all my fteel. It ftiall call it forth no more; Oftian., take thou thy father's fpear. Lift it, in battle, when the proud arife.
" My fathers, OfTian, trace my fteps ; my deeds are pleafant to their eyes. Wherever I come forth to battle, on my field are their columns of mift. But mine arm refcued the feeble ; the haughty found my rage was fire. Never, over the fallen, did mine eye rejoice. For this * my fathers fhail meet me at the
gates
* Wc fee, from this paffagc, that, even in the times of €)irian, ai:d, confequently, before the introduclion of Cbriftlanity, tliey had fome idea of rewards and punKh- ments after death. Thofe who behaved, in life, with bravery and virtue, were received with joy, to the airy halls of their fathers : but the dark in foul, to ufe the cxprcffion of the poet, were fpurned away from the habi- tation of heroes, to nvander on all the 'winds. Ano- ther opinion, which prevailed in thofe times, tended not a little to make individuals emulous to excel one another in martial atchicvements. It was thought, that in the hall of clouds, every one had a feat, raifed above others, ill proportion as he excelled them, i;ii valour, when he lived.
Book nil. ANEPICPOEM. 11"
gates of their airy halls, tall, with robes of light, with mildly-kindled eyes. But, to the proud in arms, they are darkened moons in heaven, which fend the lire of night, red-wandering over their face.
'< Father of heroes, Trenmor, dweller of eddying winds ! I give thy fpear to Offian, let thine eye re- joice. Thee have I feen, at times, bright from between thy clouds ; fo appear to my fon, when he is to lift the fpear : then (hall he remember thy mighty deeds, though thou art now but a blalt."
He gave the fpear to my hand, and raifed, at once, a ftone on high, to fpeak to future times, with its gray head of mofs. Beneath he placed a fword * in earth, and one bright bofs from his ihield. Dark in thought, a-while he bends : his words, at length came forth.
" When thou, O ftone, (liall moulder down, and Jofe thee, in the mofs of years, then fnall the travel- ler come, and whiftling pafs away. Thou know'ft: not, feeble wanderer, that fame once fhone on Moi- ]ena. Here Fingal refigned his fpear, after the laft of his fields. Pafs away, thou empty fhade; in thy voice there is no renown. Thou dwelleft by fome peaceful ftream ; yet a few years, and thou art gone. No one remembers thee, thou dweller of thick mift! But Fingal fhali be clothed with fame, a beam of light to other times ; for he went forth, in echoing fteel to fave the weak in arms."
Brightening in his fame, the king ftirode to Lu- bar's founding oak, where it bent, from its rock, over the bright tumbling ftream. Beneath it is a narrow plain, and the found of the fount of the rock.
Here
* There are fome flones Hill to be feen in the north, which were creeled, as memorials of fome remarkable tranf- adlions between the ancient chiefs. There are generall7 found, beneath them, fome piece of arms, and a bit of half-burnt wood. The caufe of placing the laft tlwrc is V'^ mentioQcd in tradition.
128 temora: Book FlU.
Here the ftandard * of A4orven poured its wreaths on the wind, to mark the way of Ferad-artho, froin his fecret vale. Bright, from his parted weft, the fun of lieaveu looked abroad. The hero faw his people, and lieard their rtiouts of joy. In broken ridges round, they glittered to the beam. The king re- joiced, as a hunter in his own green vale, when, af- ter the ftorm is rolled away, he fees the gleaming I'.des of the rocks. The green thorn ftiakes its head in their face ; from their top, look forward the roes.
Gray t at his mofly cave is bent the aged form of Clonma!, The eyes of the bard had failed. He leaned forward, on his ftaff. Bright in her locks, before him, Sul-malla liftened to the tale ; the tale of the kings of Atha, in the days of old. The noife of battle had ceafed in his ear : he ftopt, and raifed the facred figh. The fpirits of the dead, they faid, often lightened over his foul. He faw the king of Atha low, beneath his bending tree.
" Why art thou dark V faid the maid, " The ftrife of arms is pall. Soon % (hail he come to thy
cave,
* The erefting of his flandard on the bank of Lubar, was the fignal which Fingal, in the beginning of the book, promiied to give to the chiefs, who went to condu£l Ferad- artho to the army, fliould he himCelf prevail in battle. This ftandard here (and in every other part of OlTian's poems, where it is mentioned) is called, the fun-beam. The reafon of this appellation is given more than once in notes preceding.
'+ The poet changes the fcene to the valley of Lona, Mhither Sul-mala had been fent by Cathmor before the battle. Clonmal, an aged bard, or rather Druid, as he fecms here to be endued with a prefcicnce of events, had' long dwelt there in a cave. This fcene is awful and fo- lemn, and calculated to throw a melancholy gloom over the mind.
t Cathmor had promifed, in the fcventh book, to come to the cave of Clonmal, after the battle was over.
Book nil. A N E P I C P O E M. 1 29
cave, over thy winding flreams. The fun looks from the rocks of the weft. The mifts of the lake arife. Gray, they fpread on that hill, the rufhy dwelling of roes. From the mift fhall my king ap- pear ! Behold, he comes in his arms. Come to the cave of Clonmal, O my beft beloved !"
It was the fpirit of Cathmor, ftalking, large, a gleaming form. He funk by the hollow flream, that roared between the hills. " It was but the hunter," Ihe faid, " who fearches for the bed of the roe. His fteps are not forth to war; his fpoufe expedls him with night. He fhall, whiftling, return, with the fpoi's of the dark-brown hinds." Her eyes are turned to the hill ; again the flately form came down. She rofe, in the midft of joy. He re- tired in mifl:. Gradual vanilh his limbs of fmoke, and mix with the mountain- wind. Then Ihe knew that he fell ! " King of Erin art thou low .'" Let OiTian forget her grief; it waftes the foul of age *.
Evening
* Tradition relates, that Offian, the next day after the decifive battle btween Fingal and Cathmor, went to find out Sul-malla in the valley of Lona. His addrefs to her, which is fiill preferved, I here lay before the reader.
" Awake, thou daughter of Conmor, from the fern- Jklrted cavern of Lona. Awake, thou fun-beam in de- I'arts; warriors one day muft fail. They move forth, like terrible lights ; but often their cloud is near. Go to the valley of dreams, to the wandering of herds, on Lumon ; there dwells, in his lazy mift, the man of many days. But be is unknown, Sul-malla, like the thiftle of the rocks of roes: it fliakcs its gray beard in the wind, and falls unfeen of our eyes. Not fuch are the kings of men, their departure is a meteor of fire, which pours its red courfe from the dcfart, over the bofom of night.
" He is mixed with the warriors of old, thofe fires that have hid their heads. At times fliall they come forth in fong. Not forgot has the warrior failed. He has not fcen Sul-malla, the fall of a beam of his own : no fair- haired
1 30 T E M O R A : Book Fill.
Evening came down on Moi-Iena. Gray rolled the ftreams on the land. Loud came forth the voice of Fingal : the beam of oaks arofe. The people ga- thered round with gladnefs ; with gladnefs blended with ihades. They fide-long-iooked to the king, and beheld his unfinillied joy. Pleafant, from the way of the defart, the voice of mufic came. Jt feem- ed, at firft, the noife of a ftream, far-diftant on its rocks. Slow it rolled along the hill like the ruffled wing of a breeze, when it takes the tufted beard of the rocks, in the ftiU feafon of night. It was the voice of Condan, mixed with Carril's trembling harp. They came with blue- eyed Ferad-artha, to Alora of the ftreams.
Sudden burfts the fong from our bards, on Lena: the hoft ftruck their lliieids midft the found. Glad- nefs rofe brightening on the king, like the beam of a cloudy day when it rifes, on the green hill before the roar of winds. He fti uck the bolTy fliield of kings ; at once they ceafe around. The people lean forward from their fpears, towards the voice of their land *.
Sons
haired fon, in his blood, young troubler of the field. I am lonely, young branch of Lunion, I may hear the voice of the feebie, when my ftrength fli:dl have failed in years, for young Ofcar has ceafed on his field. — * * *
Sul-malla returrifd to her own country, and makes a con- fiderable figure in the poem which immediately follows ; her behaviour in that piece accounts for tliat partial regard' with which the poet fpeaks of her throughout Temora. , * Before I finlfh my notes, it may not be altogether' improper to obviate an objection, which may be made to the credibility of the flory of Teaiora, as related by Of- fian. It may be afked, whether it is probable, that Fin- gal could perform fuch aftions as are afcribed to him in this book, at an age when his grandfon, Ofcar, had ac- quired fo much reputation in arms. To this it may be anfwered, that Fingal was but very young [Book IV.] when he took to wife Ros-crana, who foon after became
the
Book Fill. AN EPIC POEM. I31
« Sons of Morven, fpread the feaftj fend the night away on fong. Ye have (hone around me, and the dark, ftorm is part. My people are the windy rocks, from which I fpread my eagle wings, when I rufli forth to renown, and feize it on its field, Of- fian, thou haft the fpear of Fingal : it is not the ftaff of a boy with which he ftrews the thiftle round, young wanderer of the field. No: it is the Jance of the mighty, with which they ftretched forth their hands to death. L©ok to thy fathers, my fon; they are awful beams. With morning lead Ferad-artho forth to the echoing halls of Temora. Remind him of the kings of Erin : the ftately forms of old. Let not the fallen be forgot, they were mighty in the field. Let Carril pour his fong, that the kings may rejoice in their mift. To-morrow I fpread my fails to Selma's fhaded walls; where ftreamy Duthula winds through the feats of roes.*'
OINA-MORUL:
- ,r,othcr of Ofiian. Offian was alfo extremely young viien he married Ever-allin, the mother of Ofcar. Tra- dition relates, that Fingal was but eighteen years old at the birth of his fon OlTian ; and that Offian was much a- bout the fame age, when Ofcar, his fon was born. Ofcar, perhaps, might be about twenty when he was killed, in the battle of Gabhra, [Book I.] ib the age of Fingal, when the decifive battle was fought between him and Cathmor, w-is jufl fifty-fix years. In thofe times of activity and h, the natural ftrength and vigour of a man was little ed, at fuch an age ; fo that there is nothing improba- l'- in the anions of Fingal, as related in this book.
O I N A -. iM O R U L :
A P O E M.
THE ARGUMEK F.
"AfiCT an addi-eH to Malvina, the ciaujihtcr or* Tofcar, OPj/sn proceeds to vclite his own expedition to Fuarted, an i/l.tnd
, of Scandinavia, JVlai-orchai, king of Fjarfed, being ha-a prefTed in war, by Ton-thcrinod, chief of Sardrcnlo, (who i:ad demanded, in vain, the daughter of Mal-orchal in :r..n- ri?-gc) Fingal feiit Ollinn to hi; aid. Oflian, on the day af- ■ter his arival, came to b.itt'e with Ton-thormot!, asd took ■him prifoner. Mai orchal o&ers his daughter Oir.a-nior;ii to Oflian ; b'lt he, dilcovering her palRun for Ton-thor- mod, genei'oiifly furreiiders her to li.r lover, and biiri^s about a reconciliation bitv. ecu tlie two kings.
AS flies the unconilaat fun, over Larmon's graiTy hill; fo pafs the tales of qJd, along ray ^ou], by night. When bards are renr^ovcd to their place ; when harps are hung in Selma's hall j thrii comes a voice to OiLan, and awakes his foul. It is •the voice of years tiiat are gone : tliey roJl before me, with all tlieir deeds. I feize, the tales, as tliey pafs, .and pour them forth in fong. Nor a troubled rtrcam is the fong of the king, it is like the rifing of mufjc from Lutha of the firings. Lutha of many firings, not filent are thy ftreamy rocks, when the white hands of Malvlna move upon the harp. Light of the ihadowy thoughts, that fly acrofs my foul, daugli- ter of Tokar of helmets, wilt thou iiot hear the fong ! We call back, maid of Lutha, the years that iiave rolled away.
It was in the days of the king*, while yet my Jocks were vou.ng, that I marked Con~cath!in fi
VoL.Ii. ' M on
* Fipga!. , t C:on-catbrai, mild beam of the 'xave. What f!ar was lb called of old is not eafiiy afceitained. Some now difli^iguifli the polc-{lar by that name. A fong, which is
ftill
134 oika-morul:
on high, from ocean's nightly wave. My courfe was towards the ille of P'uarfed, woody dweller of feas. Fingal had fent me to the aid of Mal-orchal, king of Fuarfed wild : for war was around him, and our fatliers had met, at the feaft.
In Col-coiled, I hound my fails, and fent my fword to Mal-orchol of fhells. He knew the fignal -of Albion, and his joy arofe. He came from his own high hall, and feized my hand in grief. " Why! comes the race of heroes to a falling king i* Ton- tiiorn':od of many fpears is the chief of wavy Sar- dronla. He faw and loved my daughter white-bo- fomed Oina-morul. He fought ; I denied the maid ; for our fathers had been foes. He came, with bat- tle, to Fuarfed. Aiy people are rolled away. Why comes the race of heroes to a falling king r"
I come not, I faid, to look, like a boy, on the ftrife. Fingal remembers A'lal-orchol, and his hall lor llrangers. From his waves, the warrior dc- fcended, on the woody ifle. Thou wert no cloud before him. Thy feall: was fpread with fongs. For this my fword fliall rife ; and thy foes perhaps may i'ail. Our friends are not forgot in their danger, though difl:ant is our land.
Sou
ftill in repute, among the fca-faring part of the highland- ers, alludes to this pafiage of Offian. The author com- mends the knowledge of Offian in fea affairs, a merit, which, perhaps, few of us moderns will allow him, or any in the age in which he lived. One thing is certain, that the Cale- donians often made their way through tlie dangerous and tcmpeilucus feas of Scandinavia ; which Is more, per- haps, than the more poliflied nations, fubfiding in thofe times, dared to venture. In eftimating the degree of know- ledge of arts among the ancients, we ought not to bring it into compariibn with the improvements of modern times. Our advantages over them proceed more from, accident, than nnv merit of ours.
A POEM. 135
Son of the daring Trenmor, thy words are like the voice of Cruth-loda, when he fpeaks, fiom his parting cloud, flrong dweller of the fKy ! Many have rejoiced at my feaft ; but they all have forgot Mal- orchol. I have looked towards all the winds, but no white fails were feen. But fleel* refounds in my hall ; and not the joyful fliells. Come to my dwell- ing race of heroes ; dark-fkirted night is near." Hear the voice of fongs, from the maid of Fuarfed wild. i We went. On the harp arofe the white hands of I Oina-morul. She waked her own fad tale, from f every trembling firing. I flood in filence ; for bright ' in her locks was the daughter of many iiles. Her ; eyes were like two ftars, looking forward through a ruihing ihower. The. mariner marks them on high, 1 and blelTcs the lovely beams. With morning we rufhed ' to battle, to Tormul'srefoundingflream: the foe moved ' to the found of 7^on-thormod's bofly (hield. Froin wing to wing the ftrife was mixed. 1 met the chief of Al 2 Sardronla,
|j * Tliere is a feverc fatire couched in this expreffion, a-
'i gainft the giiefls of Mal-orchal. Had his feaft been Oil I %ead, had joy continued in his hall, his former parafircs
• would not have tailed to refort to him. But as the time of fefhvity was palt, their attendance alfo ceafed. The fentiments of a certain old bard are agreeable to this ob- ^ fervation. He, poetically, comparts a great man to a. fire kindled in a defart place^ " Thofe that pay court to him, fays he, are rolling large around him, like the fmcke.
I about the fire. This fmoke gives the fire a great appear-
' . ance at a diftance, but it is but an empty vapour itfclf, and varying its form at every breeze. When the trunk,
: I which fed the fire, is confumcd, the fmoke departs on all ' the winds. So the flatterers forfakc their chief, when his
^ ' power declines." I have chofen to give a paraphrafe, ra- ther than a tranflation, oi this paffage, as the original is 'verbofe and frothy, notwithflanding of the fenlimental merit of the author. He was one of the Icfs ancient bards, and their compofitions are not nervous enough to bear a li--
i\ teral tranflation.
136 oina-morul:
Sardronla. Wide flew his broken fteel. I fei«d the king in fight. I gave his hand, bound fafl: with thongs, to Mal-orchol, the giver of iheils. Joy rofe at the feart of Fuarfed, for the toe had failed. Ton- thormod turned his face away, from Oina-morul cf iiles.
i^on of Fingalj begun Mal-orchal,. not forgot ilialt thou pafs from me. A light ihall dwell in thy Ihip. Oina-Morul of flow-rolling eyes. She fiiall kindle gladnefs, along thy mighty foul. Nor unheeded fliall the maid move in Sclma, through the dwelling 0; kings.
Jn the hall I lay in night. Mine eyes were half clofed in fleep. Soft mufic came to mine ear: it v/as like the rifmg breeze, that whirls at fiill: the thiftle's beard ; then flics dark-n:iadowy, over tiie grafs. It was the maid of Fuarfed wild : flie raifed tiie nightly fong; for fhe knew that my foul was a Hream, that fiowed at pleafant founds.
¥/ho looks, \l\c faid, from his rock, on ocean's clofing mifl; ? His long locks, like the raven's wing-, are wandering on the blaft. Stately are his fteps in grief. The tears are in his eyes. His manly breaft, IS heaving over his burfting foul. Retire, I am di- flant far^ a Vvfanderer in lands unknown. Though tlie race of kings are around me, yet my foul is dark. Why have our fathers been foes, Ton-tbormod, love of maids !
Soft voice of the flreamy ille, why dofl; tliou inourn by night ; the race of daring 'Frenmor are not the dark in foul. Thou (halt not wander, by ffreanis unknown, blue eyed Oina-morul. Within this bofom is a voice; it comes not to other ears; it bids OHian hear the hapelcfs, in their hour of woe. Retire, foft linger, by night; Ton-thormod ihall not mourn on his rock. '
"With morning 1 loofed the king. I gave the long- haired maid, MaI-orc!io! heard mv vv-ords, in the niidrt
of
A P O E M. 1-37-
of his echoing halls. " King of Fiiarfed wild, why fhould Ton-thormod mourn? He is of the race of heroes, and a flame in war. Your fathers have been foes, but now their dim ghofts rejoice in death. They ftretch their arms in mift to the fame fliell in Loda. Forget their rage, ye warriors, it was the cloud of other years."
Such were the deeds of O/Tian, while yet his locks were young: though lovelinefs, with a robe of beams, clothed the daughter of many ifles. We call back, maid of Lutha, the years that have rolled a- way.
n3. COLNA^
COLNA-DONA
A P O E M'.
THE ARGUMENT.
Fingal difpatches OfTian and Tofcar to r&ife a flopo, rn the banks of tiie ftream of Crona, to Dcrpetuite the meraovy of a viif^Lory, nlikh he had obtained in that place. When they weie etnp'iOyed in that work, Car ul, a neighbouring chief, invited them to a fealt. They went: and Tofcar fell defperately in love with Colna-dona, the daughter of Car-ul. Ci'lna-dona became no lefs enamoured of Tofcar. An incident, at an hunting party, brings their loves to a happy ifliie.
COL-AMON*of troubled Itreams, dark wan- derer of diftant vales, L behold thy courfe be- tween trees, near Car-ul's echoing halls. There dwelt bright Colna-dona, the daughter of the king. Her eyes were rolling ftars ; her arms were white as <he foani of ftreams. Her breait rofe llowly to fight, •ike ocean's heaving wave. Her foul was a ftream of light. Who, among the maids, was like the love of heroes ?
Beneath
* Colna-dona fignlfies the Icve of heroes. Cola-mon, ujrroM.' river; Car-ul, dark eyed. Col-amon, the re- fidence of Car-ul, was in the neighbourhood of Agrlcola's ^yall, towards the fouth. Car-ul feems to have been of the race of thofe Britons, who are diftinguifhcd by the name of Maiats, by the writers of Rome. Maiats Is derived from two Gallic words, Moi, a plain, and Aitich, in- habitants ; fo that the fignification of Maiatae is, the in- habitants of the plain country i a name given to the Bri- tons who were fettled in the low-lands, in contradiftinftion to the Caledonians, (i. c. Cael-don, the Gauls of the bills), who were poffefled of the more mountainous divi- ficn of North Britain.
140 colna-dona:
Beneath the voice of the king, we moved to Crona * of the ftreams, Tofcar of grafly Lutha, and Oflian, young in fields. Three bards attended with fongs. Three bolTy Ihields were borne before us : for we were to rear the ftone, in memory of the paft. By Crona's mofTy courfe, Fingal had fcattered his foes : he had rolled away the ftrangers, like a trou- bled fea. We came to the place of renown : from the mountains defcended night. I tore an oak from its hill, and raifed a flame on high. I bade my fa- thers to look down, from the clouds of their hall ; for, at the fame of their race, they brighten in the wind.
I took a (lone from the ftream, amidft the fong of bards. The blood of Fingal's foes hung curdled in its ooze. Beneath, I placed, at intervals, three bofles from the fliields of foes, as rofe or fell the found of Uilin's nightly fong. Tofcar laid a dagger in earth, a mail of founding fteel. We raifed the mould af round the ftone and bade it fpeak to other years.
Oozy daughter of ftreams, that now art reared on high, fpeak to the feeble, O ftone, after Selma's race have failed ! Prone, from the ftormy night, the traveller (hall lay him by thy fide : thy whifiling mofs (hall found in his dreams ; the years that were part (hall return. Battles rife before him, blue-fhielded
kings
* Crona, murmuring, was the name of a fmall flrcam, which dlfcharged itfelf in the river Carron. It is often mentioned by Offian, and the fcenes of many of his poems are on its banks. The enemies, whom Fingal defeated here, are not mentioned. They were probably the provin- cial Britons. That traft of country between the Firths of Forth and Clyde, has been, through all antiquity, famous for battles and rencounters, between the. different nations, who were poffefied of North and South Britain. Stirling', a town fituated there, derives its name from tliat very clr- cumftance. It is a corruption of the Gallic name^ StbilAj i.e. tbe bill) or rock, ofQonfentioiu
A POEM. 141
kings defcend to war : the darkened moon looks from heaven, on tlie troubled field. He ihall buri^, with morning, from dreams^ and fee the tombs of warriors round. He Ihall afK about the ftone, and the aged will reply, " This gray ftone vvas raifed by OfTian, a cliief of other years !"
f>om* Col-amon came a bard, from Car-ul, the friend of flrangcrs. He bade i?s to the feafl of kingsf to tlie dwelling of bright Colna-dona. We went to the hall of harps. There Car-ul brightened be- tween his rgcd locks, when he beheld the fons of his friends, hke two young trees with their leaves.
Sons of the mighty, he faid, ye bring back the days of old, when firif I defcended from waves, on Selma's flreamy vale. I purfued Duth-mocarglos, dweller of ocean's wind. Our fathers had been foes, we met by Clutha's winding waters He lied, along the Tea, and my fails were fpread behind him. Night deceived me, on the deep. I came to the dwelling of kings, to Selma of high bofomed maids. Fingal
came.
^ The mr-nners of the Britons and Caledonians were fo li fimilar, ia the days of Oifian, that there can be no doubt, i| that they were originally tlic fame people, and defrended [ from thofc Gauls who firfi poiTeflcd themfeUes of South- BritEin, and gradually migrated to t!ie north. This hy-. ■ pothel'is is more rational than the idle fables of ill informed 1] Icnachies, who bring the Caledonians from dilfant coim» |l tries. 'Ihc bare opinion of 'J'acitus, (which, by the bye, ;i was only founded en a finiilarity of the perfonal figme of the Caledonians to tiie Germans of his own time) though it has daggered fome learned men, is not liifficient to make us believe, that the ancient inhabitants of North-Britain were a German colony. A difcuffion of a point like this might be curious, but could never be fatisfactory. Periods fo diflarit are fo involved in obfcurity, that nothing cer- tain can be now advanced concerning them. The light which the Roman writers hold forth is too feeble to guide us to the truth, through the darknefs which has furround- cd it.
142 colna-dona:
came forth with his bards, and Conloch, arm of death. I feafted three days in the hall, and faw the blue eyes of Erin, Ros-crana, daughter of heroes, light of Cormac's race. Nor forgot did my fteps de- part: the kings gave their (hields to Car-ul: they hang, on high, in Col-amon, in memory of the part:. Sons of the daring kings, ye bring back the days of old.
Car-ul placed the oak of fearts. He took two boffes from our fhields. He laid them in eirth, be- neath a ftone, to fpeak to the hero's race. " When battle, faid the king, (liall roar, and our fons are to meet in wrath ; my race (hall look, perhaps, on this ftone, when they prepare the fpear. Have not our fathers met in peace, they will fav, and lay afide the fliieid ?"
Night csme down. In her long locks moved the daughter of Car-ul. Mixed with the harp arofe the voice of white-armed Colna-dona. Tofcar darkened in his place, before the love of heroes. She came on his troubled foul, like a btam to the dark-heaving ocean : when it burfts from a cloud, and brightens the foamy fide of a wave *.
With morning we awaked the woods; and hung forward on the path of the roes. They fell by their wonted ftreams. We returned through Crona's vale. From the wood a youth came forward, with a iliield and pointlefs fpear. " Whence, faid Tof- car of Lutha, is the flying beam ? Dwells there peace at Col-amon, round bright Colna-dona of harps.?"
By
* Here an epifode is entirely loft : or at leafl is handed down fo hnperfeclly, that it does not dcferve a place iiv tiie poem.
A P O E M. 143
By Col-amon of ftreams, faid the youth, bright Colna-dona dwelt. She dwelt; but her courfe is now in defarts, with the fon of the king; he that feized her foul as it wandered through the ha'.I.
Stranger of tales, faid Tofcar, haft thou marked the warrior's courfe ? He muft fall ; give thou that bofly (hield ! In wrath he took the fhield. Fair be- hind it heaved the breafts of a maid, white as the bofom of a fwan, rifing on fwift-rolling waves. It was Colna-dona of harps, the daughter of the king. Her blue eyes had rolled en Tofcar, and her love a- rofe.
A DIS.'
DISSERTATION
CONCERNING THE
POEMS OF O S S I A N.
N
A
DISSERTATION
CONCERNING THS
POEMS OF OSSIAK
THE hiflory of th.ofe nations which originally poiTcired the north of Europe, is little known. Deilitute of the ufe of letters, they themfelves had not the means of tranfmitting their great aftipns to remote pofterity. Foreign writers favv them only at a diftance, and therefore their accounts are partial anJ ind:(tinit. The vanity of the R.omans induced them to confider the nations beyond the pale of their em- pi e as barbarians; and confequently their hillory un- v: ; thy of being inveftigated. Some men, otherwifc c f great merit among ourfelves, give into this con- fiied opinion. Having early imbib'^d their idea of f--'':fed merit from the Greek and Roman writers, . fcarcely ever afterwards have the fortitude to al- any dignity of character to any other ancient l-;oole.
Vi'ithcut dercgatmg from the fariC of Gvcs.cq and
]i -)-nc, v.-e may confider antiquity bsyond the pale of
K.ir empire worthy of fome attention. The nobler
p i.nons of the mind never fiioot forth more free and
unre'trained than in thcfe times we call barbarous.
'^ hat irregular manner of life, and thofe manly pur-
s from which barbarity takes its name, are highly
:>arable to a ftrength of mind unknovvri in poliihed
• les. In advanced fociety the characters of men
c'c more uniform and difguifcd. Tiie human pa.C
ilons lie in fome degree concealed behind forms, and
N 2 artiiicial
148 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
artificial manners ; and the pov/crs of the foul, with- out an opportunity of exerting them, lofe their vigour. The times of regular government, and polifhed man- ners, are therefore to be wi(hed for by the feeble and weak in mind. An unfetiled flate, and thofe convul- fions Vvhich attend it, is the proper rield for an ex- alted character, and the exertion of great parts. Merit there rifes always fuperior; no fortuitous event can raife the timid and mean into power. To thofe who look upon antiquity in this light, it is an agreeable profpedt ; and they alone can have real pleafure in tracing nations to their fource.
The eftablifliment of the Celtic ftates, in the north of Europe, is beyond the reach of their writ- ten annals. The traditions and fongs to which they trufled their hiftcry, were loH:, or altogether corrup- ted in their revolutions and migrations, which were fo frequent and univerfal, that no kingdom in Eu- rope is now pofiefTed by its original inh.abitai.ts. Societies were formed, and kingdoms erefled, from a mixture of nations, wh,o, in procefs of time^ loft all knowledge of their own origin.
If tradition could be depended upon, it is only among a people, from all time free of intermixture with foreigners. We are to look for thefe among the mountains and inncccfTible parts of a country: })laces, on account of tlieir barrennefs, uninviting to an enemy, or whofe natural llrength enabled the natives to repel invafions. Such are the inhabitants cf the mountains of Scotland. We, accordingly, ur^d, that they differ rnaterially from thofe wlio pof- fos the low and more fertile part of the kingdom. Their lasiguage is pure and original, and their man- ners are thole cf an ancient and unmixed race of men. Confcious of their own antiquity, they long dtfpifed others, as a new and mixed people. As they lived in a country only fit for pafture, they were' free of that toil and bufinefs, which engrofs the at- tention of a commercial people. Their amufement
confilled
THE FO£MS OF OSSIAN'. I49
confifteJ in hearing; or repeating their fongs and tra- ditions, ar.d thefe entirely turned on the antiquity of their nation, and the exploits of their forefathers. It is no wonder, therefore, that there are more rennains of antiquity among them, than among any other people in Europe. Traditions, however, concern- ing remote periods, are only to be regarded, in (o far as they coincide with cotemporary writers of un- doubted credit and veracity.
No v/riters began th.eir accounts from a more early period, than the hiftorians of the Scots nation. With- out records, or even tradition itfelf, they give a long lift of ancient kings, and a detail of their tranfadtions, with a fcrupulous exadnefs. One might naturally fuppofe, tliat, when they had no authentic annals, thev fhould, at leaft, have recouife to the tiaditior.s of their country, and have reduced them into a regular fyftem of hiilory. Of both they feem to have been equally deftitute. Born in the low country, and ftrangers to the ancient language of their nation, they contented themfelves with copying from one another, and retailing the fame fictions, in a new colour ancl , drefs.
John Fordun was the firft who collected thofe fragments of the Scots hiilory, which had efcaped the brutal policy of Edward I. and reduced them into or- i der. Kis accounts, in fo far as they concerned re- M cent tranfadions, deferve credit: beyond a certain i period, they were fabulous and unfatisfaftory. Some time before P'ordun wrote, the king of f^ngland, in a letter to the Pope, had run up the antiquity of Jiis n:!rion to a very remote sera. Fordun, polleiTed of all __the national prejudice of the age, was unwillmg that ' his country (hould yield, in point of antiquity, to a people, then its rivals and enemies. Deftilute of an- nals in Scotland, he had recourfc to Ireland, which, according to the vulgar errors of the times, was reck- oned the firil; habitation of the Scots, He found, Iijtherej that the Iriih bards had earned their preten- N 2 {ion&
1^0 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
fions to antiquity as high, if not beyond any nation in Europe. It was from them he took thofe impro- bable licdons, whicli form the firft part of his hiftory. 1
The writers that fucceeded Fordun imphcitly foU | lowed h's fyicem, thougli tiiey fometimes varied from ' him in their relations of particular tranfai5fions, and the order of fucceflion of their kings. As they had no new hghts, and were, equally with him, unac- quainted with the traditions of their country, their hirtories contain little information concerning the origin of the Scots. Even Buchanan himfeli, ex- cept the elegance and vigour of his ft^yle, has very little to recommend him. iJlinded with political pre- judices, he feemed more anxious to turn the fictions of his predeceffors to his own purpofes, than to de- ted: their mifreprefentations, or inveftigate truth a- midtl tlie daiknefs which they had thrown round it. It therefore appears, that little can be collected from their own hiftorians, concerning the firft migration of the Scots into Britain.
That this illand was peopled from Gau! admits of no doubt. Whether colonies came afterwards from the north of Europe is a matter of mere fpecula- tion. Wnen South-Britain yielded to the power of the Romans, the unconquered nations to the north of the province were dilVmguifned by the name of Cnk- donians. From their very name, it appears, that they, were of thofe Gauh^ who pofTefTed themfcives origi- nally of Britain. It is compounded of two Celtic words, CaeL fignifying Celts ^ or Gauh^ and Dtm^ or . Don^ a hill ; fo that Cad-dcn^ Of Caledonians, is as • much as to fay, the Cdts of the hill countty. The ; Highlanders to this day, call themfelves Ca,l^ their / language Ccelic^ or Gal.c^ and their country Caddochy which the Romans foftened into Caledonia. '1 his,. \ of itfelf, is fufScierit to demonHrate, that they are the genuine defcendents of the ancient Caledonians^ and not a pretended colony of Scas^ who fettled firft> in the north, in the third or fourth century.
From
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. I5I
From the double meaning of the word Cael^ which fignifies /?;w/o-erj-, as well as Gauh or G-Z/y, fome have imagined, that the anceilors of the Caledonians were of a difterent race from the reft of the Britons, and that they received their name upon that account. This opinion, fay they, is fupported by Tacitus, who, from feveral circumflances, concludes, that the Caledonians were of German extraction. A dif- cullion of a point fo intricate, at this diftance or time, could neither be fatisfadory nor important.
Towards the latter end of the third, and beginning of the fourth century, we meet with the Scots in the north. Porphyrius* makes the firft mention of them about that time. As the Scots were not heard of be- fore that period, moft writers fuppofed them to have been a colony, newly come to Britain, and that the Pu^s were the only genuine defcendents of the an- cient Caledonians. This miftake is eafily removed. The Caledonians, in procefs of time, became natu- rally divided into two diftindl nations, as pofTefiing I, parts of the couniry entirely different in their nature \ and foil. The weftern coaif of Scotland is hilly and ,\ barren ; towards the eafi: the country is plain and fit ' for tillage. 7 he inhabitants of the mountains, a :j roving and uncontrouled race of men, lived by it&^- p, ing of cattle, and what they killed in hunting. Their [ I employment did not fix them to one place. They r removed from one heath to another, as fuited belt i with their convenience or inclination. They were . not, therefore, improperly called by their neighbours ScuiTE, or the ivandcrmg nation; which is evidently the origin of the Roman name of Scoti. I On the other hand, the Caledonians, who pofTef- : ' fed the eaft coal^ of Scotland, as the divifion of the country was plain and fertile, applied themfelves to agriculture, and raifing of corn. It was from this, that the Galic name of the Plds proceeded ; for they are called, in that language, Cruitlmich^ i. e. the ii:heat
bi *"'
* St. Hicrom. ad Ctefiplion,
252 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
cr corn-rr.fcrs. As the Picls lived in a country fo dif- ferent in its nature from that poffeifed by the Scots, fo their national characier fuffered a material change. Unobftrudted by mountains, or lakes, their commu- nication with another was free and frequent. Society, therefore, became fooner eftablifhed among tiiem than among the Scots, and, conffquently, they were much fooner governed by civil magiikates and laws. This at laft produced fo great a difference in the manners of the two nations, that they began to forget their common origin, and almoft continual quarrels and animofities fubfifted between them. Thefe animofi- ties, «fter fome ages, ended in the fubverfion of tl.e Pidiih kingdom, but not in the total extirpation of the nation, according to mort of the Scots writers, who feemed to think it more for the honour of their countrymen, to annihilate, than reduce a rival peo- ple under their obedience. It is certain, however, that the very name of the Picis was loft, and thofe that remained were fo completely incorporated with- their conquerors, that they foon Jofl ail msmory ot their own origin.
The end of the PidiHi government is placed fo- near that period, fo which authentic annals reach,, that it is matter of wonder, that we have no monu- ments of their language or hiftory remaining. Thi? favours the fyftem I have laid down. Had they ori- ginally been of a different race from the Scots, their language of courfe would be different. The contrary- is the cafe. The names of places in the Piifiih do- minions, and the veiy names of their kings, which- are handed down to us, are of Galic original, whiclv is a convincing, proof, that the two nations were, of old, one and the fame, and only divided into two> gsvernments, bv the effe-St which their fituation had-i upon the genius of tlie people.
The name of Pifis v/as, perhaps, given by the Ro^^' mans to the Caledonians who pofTelTed the eaft coaft^ of Scotland; from their painting their bodies. This
circumftance.
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 153
circumflance made fome imagine, that the Pids were of BritKh extraft, and a different race of men from the Scots. That more of the Britons, who fled norfhv/ard from the tyranny of the Romans, fettled in the low country of Scotland, than among the Scots , of the mountains, may be eafily imagined, from the very nature of the country, it was they who intro- ; duced painting among the Pi<fl;s. From this circum- ■ilance proceeded the name of the latter, to diftinguilli i them from the Scots, who never had that art aiKong 1 them, and from the Britons, who difcontinued it af- ter the Roman conquell:. ; The Caledonians, moft certainly acquired a con- I fuierable knowledge in navigation, by their living on i a coaf^ intcrfected with many arms of the fea, and in ' iflands, divided, one from another, by wide and dan- ' gerous firths. It is, therefore, highly probable, that they very early found their way to the north of Ire- land, which is within fight of their own country. That Ireland was firrt peopled from Britain is certain : The vicinity of the two iilands; the exa6t correfpon- dence of tlie ancient inhabitants of both, in point of manners and language, are fufhcient proofs, even if I we had not the teitimony of authors of undoubted i veracity *■ to confirm it. The abettors of the mofl romantic fyftems of Irifn antiquities allow it ; but they p'ace the colony from Britain in an improbable land remote .-era. 1 Hiall eafily admit, that the co- lony of the Firir./fT^ confefTedly the Be/g^e of Britain, fettled in the fouth of Ireland, before the Carl, or » .Caledonians difcovered the north : but it is not at all ilikely, that the migration of the Firbolg to Ireland ^ihappened many cet5turie& betore the Chriflian nsra, i Ofilan, in the poem of Temora, [Book II. j (throws confiderable light on tliis fubjeit. His ac- counts agree fo well with what the ancients have de- livered,
* DIo. Sic. 1. 5.
154- A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
livered, concerning the firft population and inhabi-:j tants of Ireland, that every unbialed perfon will con- fefs them more probable, than the legends hand( down by tradition, in that country. From him, ill appears, that in the days of Trathal, grandfather tcl Fingal, Ireland was poflclTed by two nations ; th(j Firbolg or Belga of Britain, who inhabited the foutb and the Cael^ who pafied over from Caledonia aiv. the Hebrides to Ulfter. The two nations, as is ufua among an unpolifhcd and lately fjttled people, wen divided into fmall dynafties, fubjedt to petty kings or chiefs, independent of one another. In this fitua- tion, it is probable, they continued long, withou any material revolution in the ftate of the iiland, un til Crothar, Lord of Atha, a country in Connaug!it the inoll potent chief of the Fhbolg^ carried away Con lama, the daughter of Cathmin, a ch'cfof the C^^i: who poffefied Ulfter.
Conlama had been betrothed, fome time before to Turloch, a chief of their own nation. Tur loch refented the affront offered him by Cro: thar, made an irruption into Connaught, and kiiiec Cormu), the brother of Crothar, who came to op- pofe his pro^refs. Crothar himfelf then took, arms! and either killed or expelled Turlocli. The war upon this, became general, between the two nations i and the Caiil were reduced to the laft extrem.irv. Ir tiiis fituation, thev applied, for aid, to Trathal kini of Morven, who fent his brother Conar, alrea;ly fa-! nious for his great exploits, to their relief. Conar upon his arrival in Uliier, was chofen king, by thi unanimous confent of the Caledonian tribes, whi poffefftd that couiUry. The war was renewed witi vigour and fuccefs ; but the Firbolg appear to have beet rather repelled than fubdued. In fucceeding reigns: we learn from epilbdes in the fame poem, that ih chiefs of Atha made fcvera! efforts to become mo' narchs of Ireland, and to expel the race of Conar,
T.
THE POE.MS OF OSS IAN. 1 55
To Conar fucceeded his fon Cormac, [Book III. j who appears to have reigned long. In his latter days he feems to have been driven to the laft extre- inity, by an infurrec^ion of the Fid-c/g, who fupport- ed the pretenfions of the chiefs of Atha to the Irifh throne. Fingal, who then was very young, came to the aid of Cormac, totally defeated Colc-uJIa, chief of Atha, and re-eftablifhed Cormac in the fole polTeffion of all Ireland. [Book I V.J It was then he fell in love with, and took to wife, Roscra- na, the daughter of Cormac, who was the mother of Odian.
Cormac was fucceeded in the Irilh throne by his
fon, Cairbre ; Cairbre by Atho, his fon, who was
'uher of that Cormac, in whofe minority the
.on of Svvaran happened, which is the fubjecl of
[the poem of FingaL The family of Atha, who had
inot relinquillied their pretenfions to the Irifn throne,
jrebelled in the minority of Cormac, defeated his ad-
'lierent?, and murdered him in the palace of Temora.
j[Bock l.J Cairbar, lord of Atha, upon this, mount-
W the throne. His ufurpatiun foon ended with
jjhis life ; for Fingal made an expedition into Ireland,
ind vcilored, after various viciffitudes of fortune, the
"sir.ily of Conar to the poileffion of the kingdom.
ri;:s war is the fubjeir of Temora ; the events,
hough certainly heightened, and embellillied by
)oetry, feem, notwithflanding, to have their founda-
ior, in true hillory;
Ollian has not only preferved the hiftory of the irll migration of the Caledonians into Ireland, but i3s a!fo delivered fome important fafls, concerning lie 6.1-ii fettiemeni of the FirhvJg^ or Bdga cf Btitain^ n that kingdom, under their leader Larthon, who was ncePior to Cairbar and Cathraor, who fucceffively ' nountcd the Irifii throne, after the death of Cormac, he fon of Arthc. I forbear to tranfcribe the paf- 5ge, on account of its length. [Book VII.] It is he fong of Fonar, tne bardj towards the latter end II of
156 A DISSERTATION'CONCERNING
of the feventh book of Temora. As the generation from Larthon to Cathmor, to whom the epifode i addrefled, are not marked, as are thofe of the fami ly of Conar, the firft king of Ireland, we can forn no judgment of the time of the fettlement of th Firbolg. It is, however, probable, it was fome tim before the Cae!^ -or Caledonians, fctiled in Ulller One important hSt may be gathered from the hiftor of Olfian, that the Irilh had no king before th latter end of the firft century. Fingal lived, it i certain, in the third century ; fo Conar, the firi monarch of the Iri(h, who was his grand-unck cannot be placed farther back than the clofe of th firft. The eftablilhing of this fact, lays, at once afide the pretended antiquities of the Scots and Irift and cuts off the long lift of kings which the latte gave us for a millennium before.
Of the affairs of Scotland, it is certain, nothin can be depended upon prior to the reign of Fergui the fon of Ere, who lived in the fifth century. Th true hiftory of Ireland begins fomewhat later tha that period. Sir James Ware*, who was indefati gable in his refearchcs after the antiquities of hi country, rejects, as mere fiction and idle romanct all that is related of the ancient Irifli, before the tim of St. Patrick, and the reign of Leogaire. It is fror this confideration, that he begins his hiftory at th introduction of Chriftianity, remarking, that all the, 1 is delivered down concerning the times of Paganifrri. were tales of late invention, ftrangely mixed wit anachornifms and inconfiftencies. Such being th opinion of Ware, who had colle6ted with uncom mon induftry and zeal, ail the real and pretendedl ancient manufcripts, concerning the hiftory of W country, we may, on his authority, reje£t the impro bable and felf- condemned tales of Keating an O' Flaherty. Credulous and peurile to the laft de
grei^l
* War. de Anti<i. de Hybcr, prs. p. i.
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.. I57
gree, they have difgraced the antiquities they meant to ellaWilh. It is to be wilhed, that fome able Irifh- man, who undeiftands the language and records of his country, may redeem, ere it is too late, the ge- nuine antiquities of Ireland, from the hands of thefe idle fabulifts.
By comparing the hiftory preferved by Offian with the legends of the Scots and Irifh writers, and, by afterwards examining both by the tell of the Roman authors, it is eafy to difcover which is the moft pro- bable. Probability is all that can be efiabiilhed ou the authority of tradition, ever dubious and un- certain. But when it favours the hypothecs laid down by cotemporary writers of undoubted veracity, and, as it were, finishes the figure of which they on- ly draw the out-lines, it ought, in the judgment of fober reafon, to be preferred to accounts framed in Idark. and diftant periods, with little judgment, and upon no authority.
Concerning the period of more than a century,
I which intervenes between Fingal and the reign of
Fergus, the fon of Krc or Arcath, tradition is dark
jand contradictory. Some trace up the family of Fer-
,gus to a fon of Fingal of that name, who makes a
jconfiderable figure in Offian's poems, i'he three
jelder fons of Fingal, Offian, Fiilan, and Ryno, dy-
[ing without ifTue, the fuccellion, of courfe, devolved
[upon Fergus, thsj fourth fon, and his porterlty. This
• Fergus, lay fome traditions, was the father of Con-
"igal, whofe fon was Arcatli, the father of Fergus,
,properly calied the firfl; king of Scots, as it was in
his time the G?./, who poflefTed the weftern coaft of
iScoth.i.d, began to be dutinguifhed, by foreigners,
,by the name of Scot:, P'rom thence forward, the
. iScots and Pids, as diftinct nations, became objeds
!;pf attention to the hiftorians of other countries. The
■ [internal ftate of the two Caledonian kingdoms has al-
) jways continued, and ever mulT: remain, in obfcurity
md fable.
O It
158 A DISStRTATION CONCERNING
It is in this epoch we txioft fix the beginning of the «^ecay of that fpecits of heroifm, which fubfifted in the days of Oltian. Tiiere are tliree ftages in hu- man fociety. The firfl: is tlie rcfult of confanguinity, and the natural afFeition of the members of a family to one another. The fecond begins when property is ellab]i(hed, and men ente; into allociations for mu- tual defence, againft the iiivafions and injuftice of neighbours. Mankind fubmit, in the third, to cer- tain laws and fubordinaiions of government, to which they truft the fafety of their perfons and property.
As the firft is formed on nature, (oy of courfe, it js t!ie moft dllinterefied and noble. Men, in the laft^ have leifure to cultivate the mind, and to reftore it, with refle»:iion, to a primaeval dignity of fentiment. The middle ftate is the region of complete barbarifni' and ignorance. About the beginning of the fifth cen- tury, the Scots and Fids were advanced into the fecondi fiage, and, conftquenlly, into thofe circumfcribed fen- timents, which always diftnguilh barbarity. The «- vents which foon after happened did not at all contri- bute to enlarge their ideas, or mend their national' charadler.
About the year 426, the Romans, on account of domefiic commotions, entirely forlook Britain, find- ing it impofuble to defend fo diflant a frontier. The Picls and Scots, feizing this favourable opportunity,, made incurficns into the deferted province. Thei Britons, enervated by the flavery of feveral centuriesji and thole vices, which are infeparable from an ad- V^nced i^ate of civility, were not able to W!thlian«l the. impetuous, though irregular, attacks of a barbae rous eneniv. In the utmoil diflreis, th.ey applied tol their o'd mafters, the Romans, and (after tiie unfcsr- tunate ftate of the empire could not fpare aidj to thclj Saxons, a nation equally barbarous and brave, with the enemies of whoin they were fo much afraidi Though the bravery of the Saxons repelled the Ca- ledonian nations for a time, yet the latter found
means
THE POEMS OF 0S5IAN, 259
means to extend themfelves confiderably towards the fouth. It is in this period we muft place the origin of the arts of civil life among the Scots. i'he feat of government was removed from the mountains to the plain and more fertile provinces of the fouth, to be near the common enemy, in cale of fudden in- curfions.
Inftead of roving through unfiequented wilds, ia fearch of fubfiilence by means of hunting, men ap- plied to agriculture, and raifing of corn. This man- ner of life was the firft means of changing the na- tional charader. The next thing which contributed to it was their mixture with flrangers.
In the countries which the Scots had conquered ■from the Britons, it is probable the mod of the old inhabitants remained. Thefe incorporating with the conquerors, taught them agriculture, and other arts, which they themfelves had received from the Ro- mans. The Scots, however, in number as well as power, being the mofl predominant, retained ftill their language, and as many of the cuftoms of their ancertors, as fuited with the nature of the country they pofTefTed. Even tlie union of the two Caledo- nian kingdoms did not much affect the national cha- racter. Being originally defcended from the fame (lock, the manners of the Picls and Scots were as f\milar as the different natures of the countries they pofTefTed permitted.
^V^il3t brought about a total change in the genius of the Scots nation, was their wars, and other tranf- actions with the Saxons. Several counties in the fouth of Scotland were alrernatcly poiTelTed by the two nations. They were ceded, in the ninth age, to the Scots, and, it is probable, that mofl of the Sax- on inhabitants remained in pofTefTion of tl-.eir lands. During the feveral eonquefis and revolutions in England, many fled for refuge into Scotland, to a- -void the oppreflion of foreigners, or the tyranny of domeftic ufurpers ; infomuch, that the Saxon race O 2 formed
l6o A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
formed perhaps near one half cf the Scottini king- dom. T he Saxon manners and language daily gain- ed ground on the tongue and cuftoms of the ancient Caledonians, till at laft the latter were entirely rele- gated to inhabitants of the mountains, who were flill unmixed with ftrangers.
It WTS after the accelTion of territory which the Scots received, upon the retreat of the Romans from Britain, that the inhabitants of the iflands were di- vided into clans. The king, when he kept his court in the mountains, was conhdered, by the whole na- tion, as the chief of their blood. Their fmall num- ber, as well as the prefence of their prince, prevented thofe divifions which afterwards fprung forth into (o many feparate tribes. When the feat of government was removed to the fouth, thofe who remained in the Highlands, were, cf courfe, negle<Sed. They na- turally formed tliemfclves into fmall focieties, inde- pendent of one another. Each fociety had its own legiilus^ who either was, or in the fucceffion of a few generations, was regarded as chief of their blood. The n-ature of the country favoured an inftitution of this fort. A few valley?, divided from one another by extenfive heaths, snd impaffible mountains, form the face of the Highlands. In thefe valleys the chiefs fixed their refidence. Round them, and al- moft within fight of their dwellings, were the habita- tions cf their relations and dependents.
The feats of the Highland chiefs were neither difa- greeable nor inconvenient. Siarrounded with moun- tains and hanging woods, they were covered from the inclemency of the weather. Near them general- ly ran a pretty large river, which, difcharging itfelf not far off, into an arm of the fea, or extenfive lake, fwarmed with variety of filh. The woods were flocked with wild-fowl; and the heaths and moun- tains behind them v/ere the natural feat of the red deer and roe. If we make allowance for the back- •vard llate of agriculture, the valleys were not unfertile;
affording,
THE POEIV!-; OF 03SIAN. i6l'
the conveniences, at leafl (lie ne* cefTaries of life. Here the chief Jived, the fuprerr.c judge and law- giver of his own people ; but his fway was neither fevere nor unjuft. As the populace re- garded hiiTJ as the chief of their blood, fo he, in re- turn, confidered them as members of his fanniJy. His commands, therefore, though abfolute and decifsve, partook more of the authority of a father, than of the rigour of a judge. Though the whole territory of the tribe was confidered as the property cf the chief, yet his vafTals made him no other confideration for their lands than fervices, neither burdenfome nor frequent. As he feidom went from home, he was at no expence. His table was fupplied by his own herds, and v;hat his numerous attendants killed ia -hunting.
In this rural kind of tnagnificence, the Highland j chiefs lived, for many ages. At a diftance from the i feat of government, and fecured by the inacceffible- 1 nefs of their country, they were free and independent. I As they had little communication with Grangers, the i cuftoms of their anceftors remained among them, and I their language retained its original puriry. Natural- l.ly fond of military fame, and remarkably attacned to t the memory of their ancefiors, they delighted in tra- ditions and fongs, concerning the exploits of their ' nation, and efpecially of their own particular fami- j lies. A fucceffion of bards was retained in ev-ry iclan, to hand down the memorable aitions of their .forefathers. As the asra of Fingal, on account of Oflian's poems, was the moil remarkable, and his [•chiefs the molt renowned names in tradition, the bards took care to place one of them in the genealogy of every great family. That part of the poem.93 which concerned the hero who was regarded as an- ceftor, was preferved, as an authentic record of tlie antiquity of the familv, and was delivered dovviij, fro.n race to race, vs-ith wonderful exai^tuiifs.
O 3 Ths-
l62 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
The bards themfelves, in the mean time, were not idle. They erecSled their immediate patrons into he- roei, and celebrated them in their longs. As the circle of their knowledge was narrow, their ideas were confined in proportion. A few happy expref- fions, and the manners they reprefent, may pleafe ihofe who underftand the language j their obfcurity and inaccuracy would difguft in a tranflation. It was chiefly for this reafon, that I kept wholly to the compofitions of Oflian, in my former and prefent publication. As lie acSled in a more extenfive fphere, his ideas are more noble and univeifal ; neither has he fo many of thofe peculiarities, which are only un- derftood in a certain period or country. The other bards have their beauties, but not in that fpecies of compofition in which Offian excels. Their rhymes, only calculated to kindle a martial fpirit among the Aulgar, afford very little pleafure to genuine "tafte. Tills obfervation only regards their poems of the he- joic kind J in every other fpecies of poetry they are more fuccefsful. They exprefs the tender melancho- ly of defponding love, with irrefiftible fimplicity and nature. So well adapted are the founds of the words to the fentiments, that, even without any knowledge of the language, they pierce and difTolve the heart. iDUCcefsful love is exprefTed with peculiar tendernefs and elegance. In all their compofitions, except the heroic, which was folely calculated to animate the vulgar, they give us the genuine language of the heart, without any of thofe affected ornaments of phrafeology, which, though intended to beautify fen- /timents, divefl them of their natural force. The ideas, it is confeiTed, are too local, to be admired, in another language ; to thofe who are acquainted with the manners they reprefent, and the fcenes they de- fcribe, they muii afford the higheft pleafure and fatisfaction.
It was the locality of his defcription and fentiment, ith^t probably kept Ofiian fo long in the obfurity of
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 163
an almoft loft language. His ideas, though remark- ably proper for the times in wnich ht lived, are fo contrary to the prefent advanced ftatc ot fociety, that more than a common mediocrity of tafte is required, to relilh his poems as they deferve. Thofe who alone were capable 10 make a tranllation, were, no doubt, confcious of this, and choic lather to ad- mire their poet in fecret, tnan fee him received with coldnefs, in an i^nghlh drefs.
Thefewere long my own lentiments, and according- ly, my firll tranilations from the Galic, were merely ac- cidental. The publication, which foon after foilo -ved, was fo well receivtu, that 1 was obliged to piomife to my friends a larger collection, in a journey tiirough the Highlands and illes, and, by liie alliitance of corre- fpondents, fince 1 left that country, all the genuine remains of the works of Olhan have come to my hands. In the preceding volume* complete poems were only given. Untiniihed and imperfect poems were purpofely oinittcdj even fome pieces were re- jected on account of their length, and others, that they might not break in upon that thread of connec- tion, which fubfifts in the lefl'er compofitions, fub- joined to Fmgal. That tlie comparative merit of pieces was not regarded, in the felection, will readily appear to thofe who Ihall read, attentively, the pre- . fcnt collection. It is animated with the fame fpirit of poetry, and the fame ftrength of fenciment is fu- Irained throughout.
The opening of the poem of Temora made its ap- pearance in the tirit coiledtion of Ofhan's works. The fccond book, and feveral other cpifodes, have only fallen into my hands lately. I'he itory of the poem, with which 1 had been long acquainted, ena- bled me to reduce the broken members of the piece
into
* The Author alludes to the poems preceding Berra- thon, as that poem, when tlje book was piinted in two vo- luines, ended the firft.
164 A DISSERTATION C0NCERNI?:G
into the o»der in which they now appear. For the eafe of the reader, 1 have divided myfelf into books, as I had done before with the poem of Fif^al. As to the merit of the poem, I fhall not anticipate the.-' judgment of the public. My impartiality might be-; fufped^ed in my accounts of a work, which, in fomq.: njeafure has become my own. If the poem of Fin- gul met with the applaufe of perfons of genuine tafte,. I fhould alfo hope, that Temora will not diTpIeafe them.
But what renders Temora infinitely more valuabler than Fingal, is the light it throws on the hiftory of' the times. f he firft population of Ireland, its firft' kings, and feveral circumftances, which regard its.i connexion of old with the fouth and north of Bri- tain, are prefented to us, in feveral epifodes. The fubje6l and cataftrophe of the poem are founded upon fadts, which regarded the firft peopling of that coun- try, and the contefls between the two Bririfh nations,. v;hich originally inhabited. In a preceding part of this Diflertation, 1 have (hewn how fuperior the probability of Oflian's traditions is to the undi- gerted fictions of the Irifh bards, and the more r-jcent and regular legends of both Irifh and Scot- tilh hillorians. 1 mean not to give offence to the abettors of the high antiquities of the two nations^ tliough i have all along exprefled my doubts, con- cerning the veracity and abilities of thofe who deliver down their ancient hiftory. For my own part, I prefer the national fame, arifing from a few certain^ fa5ts, to the legendary and uncertain annals of ages, of remote and obfcure antiquity. No kingdom nowj eftabhftied in Europe, can pretend to equal antiquity | with that of the Scots, even according to my fy(tem,j fo that it is altogether needlefs to fix their origin a.i fictitious millennium before.
Since the publication of the poems contained in I the fiift volume, many infinuations have been made,< and doubts arifen, concerning their authenticity. I
iha!l,l
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 165
/hall, probably, hear more of the fame kind after the prefent poems fhall make their appearance. Whe- ther thefe fufpicions are fuggefted by prejudice, or are only the effects of ignorance of fads, i (hall not pretend to determine. To me they give no con- cern, as I have it always in my power to remove them. An incredulity of this kind is natural to per- fons, who confine all merit to their own age and country. Thefe are generally the weakeft, as well as the moft ignorant, of the people. Indolently con- fined to a place, their ideas are narrow and circum- fcribed. It is ridiculous enough to fee fuch people as thefe are, branding their anceflors, with the defpica- ble appellation of barbarians. Sober reafon can eafily difcern, where the title ougfit to be fixed with more propriety.
As prejudice is always the effe£l of ignorance, the knowing, the men of true tafte, defpife and difmifs it. If the poetry is g jod, and the charaders natural and flriking, to them it is a nutter of indifference, ; whether the heroes were born in the little village of i Argles in Jutland, or natives of the barren heaths cf j Caledonia. That honour which nations derive from I anceflors, worthy or renov^-ned, is merely idea). It may \ buoy up the minds of individuals, but it contributes ^ very little to their importance in the eyes of others. But of all thofe prejudices which are incident to nar- jrow minds, that which meafures the merit of pefor- , trances by a vulgar opinion, concerning the country j which produced them, is ceitainly the mod: ridicu- \lous. Ridiculous, however, as it is, fe>v have the fcourage to rcjed it; and 1 am thoroughly convinced, ^that a few quaint lines of a Roman or Greek epi- tgrammatifl-, if dug out of the ruins of Herculaneum, Iwould meet with more cord^al and univerfal applaufe, than all the mofi: beautiful and natural rhapfodies of sail the Celtic bards and Scandinavian fcaldcrs that ever exificd.
While
l66 A DISSERTATION CONCERNIN®
While fome doubt the authenticity of the compo« fitions of Offian, others ftrenuoufly endeavour to ap- propriate them to the Irirti nation. Though the whole tenor of the poems fufficiently contradi6l fa abfurd an opinion, it may not be improper, for the fatisfadion of fome, to examine the narrow founda- tion, on which this extraordinary claim is buJt.
Of all the nations defcended from the ancient Celt^^ the Scots and Irifh are the moft fimilar in lan- guage, cuftoms, and manners. This argues a more intimate connection between them, than a remote defcentfrom the great Celtic ftock. It is evident, in fliort, that at fome one period or other, they formcti one fociety, were fubjecl to the fame government, and were, in all refpeds, one and the fame people How they became divided, which the colony, or which the mother nation, does not fall now to be difculTed, The firft circumftance that induced me to difregard the vulgarly received opinion of the Hibernian ex- traflion of the Scottifh nation, was my obfervations on their ancient language. That dialed of the Celt« tongue, fpoken in the north of Scotland, is much more pure, more agreeable to its mother language, and more abounding with primitives, than that now fpoken, or even that which has been writ for focne centuries back, amongfl the moft unmixed part of the Iri/h nation. A Scotlman, tolerably converfant Ir his own language, underftands an Irifti compofition. from that derivative analogy which it has to the Galii of North Britain. An Inihman, on the other hand* without the aid of ftudy, can never undecftand s compofition in the Galic tongue. 1 his affords j"s proof, that the Scots Galk is tl^e mcft original, andil confequently the language of a more ancient and uij-i mixed people. Tiie Irith, however backward thej may be to allow any thing to the prejudice of thtiii antiquity, feem inadvertently to acknowledge it, b] the very appellation they give to the dialect thej /peak. They call their own language Cadk Eiri7tach
THE POEMS OF CSSIAN. 167
i. e. Caledonian h}Jli^ when, on the contrary, they call the diale£t of North-Britain, a Qiatlic^ or the Cakdo- don'tan tongue^ emphatically. A circumllance of this nature tends more to decide which is the moft an- cient nation, than the united teftimonies of a whole legion of ignorant bards and fenachies, who, per- haps never dreamed ot bringing the Scots from Spain to n eland, till fome one cf them, more learned than the relt, d.fcovered, that the Romans called the firft Ihcra^ and the latter Hihcmia. On fuch a light foun- dation were probably built thofe romantic fi<5fions, concerning the Milefians of Ireland.
From internal proofs it fufficiently appears, tl"!.at the poems publifhed under the name of Offian, are riot of irifh compofition. The favourite chin-.asra, ! that Ireland is the mother-country, of the Scots, is \ totally fubverted and ruined. The fictions concern- ( ing the ant.quities of that country, which were form- [ ing for ages, and growing as tiiey came down, on \ the hands of fucceflive Jchachies and fihas^ aie found, , at laft to be the fpurious brood of modern and igno- I rant ages. To thofe who know how tenacious the ; In(h are, of their pretended Ibenan delcent, this I alone is proof fufficient, tliat poems, fo fubverfive 5 of their fyftem, could never be produced by an Hi- ;, bernian bard. But when we look to the language, it I is fo different fiom the i.'-ifh dialed, that it would be ias ridiculous to think, tnat Milton's Paradife Loft 1 could be wrote by a ScottiHi peafant, as to fuppofe, ,that the poems afcnbed to Offian were wnt in ire- jland.
[ The pretenfions of Ireland to Offian proceed from !j another quarter. There are handed down in that i country, traditional poems, concerning the Ficna^ or ithe heroes of Fion Mac Comnal. 1 liis /"/w, fay the Iriih annalifts, was general of the mihtiaof Ireland, in ;the reign of Cormac, in the third century. Where |Keatmg and O'Flaherty learned that Ireland had an ifMk'Jicd militia fo early, is not eafy for me to deter- mine
l68 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
mine. Their information certainly did not come from the Irirti poems, concernmg Fion. I have juft now in my hands all that remain of thofe compoii- tions; but, unluckily for the antiquities of Ireland, they appear to be the work of a very modern period. Every ftanza, nay almoft every line, affords ftriking proofs, that they cannot be three centuries old. Their allufions to the manners and cuftoms of tiie fifteenth century, are fo many, that it is matter of wonder to me, hovv any one could dream of their an- tiquity. They are entirely writ in that romantic talte which prevailed two ages ago. Giants, inchanted cadles, dwarfs, palfieys, witches and magicians, form the whole circle of the poet's mvention. The cele- brated Fion could fcarcely move from one hillock to : another, without encountering a giant, or being en-^ tangled in the circles of a magician. Witches, on broomfticks, were continually hovering round him like crows ; and h'e had freed inchartted virgins in every valley in Ireland. In fliort, Fion^ great as hq was, pafled a diflagreeable life. Not only had he tot engage all the milchiefs m his own country, foreign armies invaded him, aflifted by magicians and witches, and headed by kings as tall as the mainmaft of a firft rate. It xnvA be owned, however, that Fion was not, inferior to them in height.
A chos air Cromleacb, druim-ard, Chos cile air Crom-meal dubh, Thoga Fion le lamh mhoir An d'uifgeo Lubbair na fruth. With one foot on Cronilcacb his brow, The other on Crommal the dark, Fion took np wiih his large hand The water from Lubar oi" the Qreams.
CromleacJi and Cronvnal were two mountains in the; neighbourhood of one another, in Ulfter, and the river Lubai ran through the intermediate Valley. The property of fuch a monfter as this Fwt?^ 1 (hould ne- , ver have difputed with any nation. But the bard
himfel/i
THE POEMS OF OSSIAiV. 169
himfelt, in the poem, from which the above quota- tion is taken, cedes him to Scotland.
FioN o Alb!N, fiol nan laoicb.
T lot! from Albion, race of heroes!
Were it allowable to contradict the authority of a bard, at this dillance of time, I fhould have given as my opinion, that this enormous Fio» was of the race of the Hibernian giants, of Ruanus, or fome other celebrated name, rather than a native of Caledonia, whole inhabitants, now at leaft, are not remarkable for their ftature.
If Fio;2 was fo remarkable for his ftature, his he- roes had alfo other extraordinary properties. '/« weight all the fans of f rangers yielded to the celebra- ted Ton-iofal ; and for hardnefs of fkull, and, per- haps, for thicknefs too, the valiant Ofcar ftood »«- rivalled and alorit. Offian himfelf had many Angular and lefs delicate qualifications, than playing on the harp; and the brave Cuchullin was of fo diminutive a fize, as to be taken for a child of two years of age, by the gigantic Svvaran. To illuftrate this fubje^l, I Ihall here lay before the reader, the hiftory of fome of the Irifh poems, concerning Fion Mac Comnal. A tranflation of thefe pieces, if well executed, might afford fatisfaftion to the public. But this ought to be the work of a native of Ireland. To draw forth, from obfcurity, the poems of my own country, has afforded ample employment to me; befides, I am too diffident of my own abilities, to undertake fuch a work. A gentleman in Dublin accufed me to the public of committing blunders and abfurdities, in tranflating the language of my own country, and that before any tranflation of mine appeared *. How the gentleman came to fee my blunders before I commit- ted them, is not eafy to determine; if he did not con-
VoL. II. P dude,
* In Faulkner's Dublin Journal, of the ift December, 1761, appeared the following Advertifement :—
<' Speedily
170 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
elude, that, as a Scotfman, and of couiTe defcended of the Milefian race, I might have committed fome of thofe overfights, which perhaps very unjuftly, are faid to be peculiar to them.
From the whole tenor of the Irifh poems, concern- ing the Ficjia, it appears, that Fmi Mac Comnal flou- rilhed in the reign of Cormac, which is placed by the univerfal confent of the fenachies, in the third century. They even fix the death of Fingal in the year 286, yet his fon Offian is made cotemporarji with St. Patrick, who preached the gofpel in Ireland about the middle of the fifth age. Oflian, though, ai that time, he mufi: have been two hundred and fift) years of age, had a daughter young enough to become wife to the faint. On account of this family con- nexion, Patrick of tie P/alms, for fo the apoftle oi: Ireland is emphatically called in the poems, took grea! delight in the company of Offian, and in hearing the great actions of his family. The faint fometimes threw oft" the aufterity of his profefTion, drunk freely, r.nd had his foul properly warmed with wine, in or-! dcr to hear, with becoming enthufiafm, the poemsJ
" Speedily will be publiftied, by a gentleman of thi;l kingdom, who hath been, for Ibme time pad, employee in tranflating and writing Hiftorical Notes to
FINGAL:
A POEM,
(Originally wrote in the Irifh or Erfe language.) In the preface to which, the tranflator, who is a pcrfcf mafier of the Iiifli tongue, will give an account of the man^ iiers and cuftoms of the ancient Irifli or Scots: and, there fore, moQ' humbly entreats the public, to wait for hi; edition, v.hich will appear in a fhort time, as he will fei forth all the blunders and abfurdities in the edition nov; printing in London, and fliew the ignorance of the Eng iifli tranflator, in his knowledge of Irifli grammar, no underllanding any part of thii; accidence,''
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 171
of his father-in-law. One of the poems begins with this piece of ufeful information.
Lo don rabh,PADRic na inhur, Gun Siiilm air uidh, ach a gol, Ghhiais c thigh Ojfian mhic Fbion, O fan leis bu bhina a gliloir.
The title of this poem is Teantach mor tin Fiona. It
appears to have been founded on the fame ftory with
the lattle of Lot a, one of the poem.s of the genuine
Olfian. The circumftances and cataftrophe in both
arc much the fame; but the /;/>/ Ofi.m difcovers \\vz
age in wh.ich he lived, by an unlucky anachronifm.
After dcfcribing the total route of Erragon, he very
gravely concludes with this remarkable anecdote,
\ " That none of the foe efcaped, but a few who
I were allowed to go on a pilgrimage to the Holy Laud."'
; This clrcumftance fixes the date of the compofition
I of the piece fome centuries after the famous croifade ;
I for, it Ts evident, that the poet thought the time of
I the croifade fo ancient, that he confounds it with the
age of Fingal. Erragon, in the courfe of this poem,
is often called,
Roigh Lccblin an do fiiloigh,
King of Denmark of trjo nations,
which alludes to the union of the kingdoms of Nor- way and Denmark, a circui"nftance which brin2;3 down the date of the piece to an sera, not far remote. Modern, hov/ever, as this pretended O/fian was, it is certain, he lived before the Irilh had dreamed of ap- propriating Fion or Fingal., to themfelves. He con- cludes the poem with this reflection.
Na fagha fe comhthrom nan n' arm, Erragon Mac Annir nan lann g!as 'San n'ALBiN ni n' abairtair Triatlx Agus ghlaoite an n' Fbiona as.
« Had Erragon, fon of Annir of gleaming fwords,
avoided the equal contell of arms, (fingle combat) no
P 2 ciiief
172 A DISSER.TATION CONCERNING
chief fhould afterwards have been numbered in Albion, and the heroes of Fion ihould no more be named."
The next poem that falls under our obfervation, is
Caih-cabha, or, T/ie Death of Ofcar. Tilis piece is
founded on the fame ftory which we have in the firrt book of Temora. So little thought th.e author of Cmh-cabhra of making Ofcar his countryman, that, in the courfe of two hundred lines, of which the poem confiils, he puts the following exprefficn thrice in the mouth of the hero :
Albion an fa d' roina m'aracb, — Albion where 1 uUjj born and bred.
The poem contains almofl all the i:-;ridents in the fir ft book of Temora. In one circumfrance the bard d.ffers materially from OfTian. Ofcar, after he was mortally wounded by Cairbar, was carried by his people to a neighbouring hills, which commanded a profpet^ of the fea. A fleet appeared at a diftance, and the hero exclaims with joy,
I>Gingeas mo fliean-athair at' an 'S iad a tiachd ie cabhair chugain, O Albin na n' ioma iiuagh.
" It is the fleet of my grandfather, coming with" aid to our field, from Albion of many waves!'' The teflimony of this bard is fufBcient to confute the idle fictions of Keating and O'Flahcrty; for,. though he is far from being ancient, it is probable he fiounihed a full century before thefe hiftorians. He appears, however, to have been a much better Chri- ftian than Chronologer; for Fion., though he is placed two centuries before St. Patrick, very devoutly ra- commends the foul of his grandfon to his Redeem- er.
Du^n a ClariUi Mac S/a^n is another Irifh poem in : high repute. The grandeur of its images, and it& propriety of fentimenr, might h^ve induced me to 1
give
THE POEMS OF OSSIAK. I73
give a tranflation of it, had not I fome expeiflations of feeing it in tJie coHeilion of the Iriih Oflian's poems, promifed more than a year fince to the pu- blic. The author defcends fomerimes from the re- gion of the fublime to low and iricjeccnt dercrip- tion ; the lafi: of which, the Irilh tranHator, no doubt, will choofe to leave in the obfcurity of the ori- ginal. In this piece, Cuchuliin is ufed with very Jittle ceremony ; for he is oft called the D^g of 7'ara, in the county of Meath. This fevere title of the ridoubiahk Cuchdlln^ the moil renowned of Irifh cham- pions, proceeded from the poet's ignorance of eyty- niology. Cu, '■coke^ or commander, fignifies alio a ■ dog. The poet chofe the lafi, as the moft noble ap- pellation for his hero.
The fubjc6l of the poem is the fame with that of the epic poem of Fingal. Garihh Mac-Siam is the fame with Offian's Swaran, the fon of Starno. His ' fingle combats with, and his vidory over all the he- roes of Ireland, excepting the cdebratcd dog of Tam, \. e. Cuchuliin, afford matter for two hundred lines i of tolerable poetry. Carlbli% prcgrefs in fearch of j Cuchuliin, and his intrigue with the gigantic Emir- ' bragal, that hero's wife, enables the poet to extend his piece to four hundred lines. This author, it is true, makes Cuchuliin a native of Ireland ; the gi- gantic Emir-bragal, he calls the guiding Jlar cf the z-jc- men rf Ireland. The property of this enormous lady, I (hall not difpute with him, or any other. Bur, as he fpeaks with great tendernefs of the daughters of the [ convent^ and throws out fome hints againlt the Eng- \\ lifh nation, it is probable he lived in two modern a period to be intimately acquainted with the genealogy of Cuchuliin.
Another Irifli Oflian, for there were many, as ap- pears from their difference in language and fentimenr, fpeaks very dogmatically of Fion Mac Co77inaI^ as an ,!lri(hman, Little can be faid for the judgment o£ P 3 this
174 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
this poet, and lefs for his delicacy of fentiment. The hiftory of one of his epifodes may, at once, ftand as a fpecimen of his want of both. Ireland, in the days of Fio7i^ happened to be threatened with an invafion, by three great potentates, the kings of Lochlin, Sweden, and France. It is needlefs to infift upon the improprie- ty of a French invafion of Ireland ; it is fufficient for me to be faithful to the language of my author. Tion^ upon receiving intelligence of the intended in- vafion, fent Ca-o!t, Oliian, and Ofcar, to watch the bay, in which it was apprehended the enemy were to land. Ofcar was the worft choice of a fcout that could be made ; for, brave as he was, he had the bad property of falling very often afleep on his port, nor was it poflible to awake him, without cutting off one of his fingers, or dafhing a large ftone againft his his head. When the enemy appeared, Ofcar, very unfortunately, was afleep. Offian and Ca-olt con- Tulted about the method of wakening him, and they, at laft, fixed on the ftone, as the lefs dangerous ex- pedient.
Gun thog Caoiltc a chlach, nach gan, Agus a n' aighai' chiean gun bhuail ; Tri mil an tulloch gun chri', £p°c.
" Ca-ok took up a heavy ftone, and ftruck it againft'. the hero's head. The hill ftiook for three miles, as the ftone rebounded and rolled away." Ofcar rofe in wrath, and his father gravely defircd him to fpend his rage on his enemies, which he did to fo good purpoie, that he fingly routed a whole wing of their army. The confederate kings advanced, notwith- ftanding, till they came to a narrow pafs. poftlefled by the celebrated Ton-iofal. This name is very fig- nificant of the fingular property of the hero who bore it. Ton-iofal, though brave, was fo heavy and un- weildy, that, when he fat down, it took the whole force of a hundred men to fet him upright on his
feet
21
THE POEMS OF 033IAN. I75
ket again. Luckily for the prefervation of Ireland, the hero happened to be ftanding when the enemy appeared, and he gave fo good an account of them, that Fion, upon his arrival, found little to do, but to divide the fpoil among his foldiers.
All thefe extraordinary heroes, Fion, OfTian, Ofcar, and Ca-olt, fays the poet, were
Siol Ekin na gorni lann.
The fans of Ekin' of blue Jieel.
Neither fhall I much difpute the matter with him : He has my confent alfo to appropriate to Ireland the celebrated Ton-iofal. I (hall only fay, that they are different perfons of the fame name, in the Scots poems; and that, though the fcupendous valour of tlie firft is fo remarkable, they h:ive not been equal- ly lucky with the latter, in their poet. It is fome- what extraordinary, that Fion^ who lived fome ages before St. Patrick, fwears like a very good Chri- ftian.
Air an Dia do chum gach cafe. By God, ivbo Jhaped every cafe.
It is worthy of being remarked, that, in the line quoted, OfTian, who lived in St. Patrick's days, feems to have underftood fomsthing or the Englifh, a lan- guage not then fubfifting. A perfon, more fanguine for the honour of his country than I am, might argue, from this circumftance, that this pretendedly irilh OlFian was a native of Scotland; for my countrymen are univerfally allowed to have an exclufive right to ; the fecond- fight.
I From the inftances given, the reader may form a \ complete idea of the irilh compofitions concerning 1 the Fiona. The greatefl part of them make the heroes of Fhn^
Siol Albin a n'nioma caoiic.
The race of Albion cf many firtbs.
The
176 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
The reft make them natives of Ireland. But, the truth is, that their authority is of little confequence on either fide. From the inftances I have given, they appear to have been the work of a very modern period. The pious ejaculations they contain, their aiiuiions to the manners of the times, fix them to the fifteenth century. Had even the authors of thefe pieces avoided all allufions to their own times, it is impoffible that the poems could pafs for an- cient, in the eyes of any perfon tolerably conver- fant with the Irilh tongue. The idiom is fo cor- rupted, and (o many words borrowed from .the' Englilh, that that language muft have made^ con- • fiderable progrefs in Ireland before the poems were written.
It remains now to fhew, how the Irifli bards be- gan to appropriate Offian and his heroes to their own country. After the Englifli conqueft, many of the natives of Ireland, averfe to a foreign yoke, either aclualjy were in a ftate of hoftility with the con- querors, or at leaf!, paid little regard to their govern- ment. The Scots, in thofe ages, were often in open war, and never in cordial friendfhip with the Eng- lifh. The fimilarity of manners and language, the traditions concerning their common origin, and, above all, liieir having to do with the fame enemy, created a free and friendly intercourfe between the Scottilh and Irifh nations. As the cuilom of retaining bards and fenachies was common to both ; fo each, no doubt, had formed a fyftem of hiftory, it matters not how much foever fabulous, concerning their refpedive origin. It was the natural policy of the times, to reconcile the traditions of both nations together, and, if polTible, to deduce them from the fame originaL fiock.
The Saxon manners and language had, at that time, made great progrefs in the fouth of Scotland. Tl:e ancient language, and the traditional biftory of
the
THE POEMS OF OSSIANi I77
the nation, became confined entirely to the inhabi- tants of the Highlands, then fallen, from feveral con- cuiring circumftances, into the laft degree of igno- rance and barbarifm. The Irlfh, who, for fome ages before the conqueft, had pofTetTed a competent (hare of that kind of learning, which tiien prevailed in Europe, found it no difficult matter to impofe their own fictions en the ignorant Highland fenachies, by flattering the vanity of the Highlanders, with their long lift of Heremonian kings and heroes, they, without contradi(ftion, alTumed to themfelves the chara61er of being the mother-nation of the Scots of Britain. At this f^me, certainly, was efiablirtied that Hibernian fyftem of the original of the Scots, which afterwards, for want of any other, ,was univerfally re- ceived. The Scots of the low couiury, who, by lofing the language of their ancefiors, loft, together with it their national traditions, received, implicitly, the hiftory of their country, from Irifti refugees, or from Highland fenachies, perfuadcd over into the Hibernian fyftem.
Thefe circumftances are far from being ideal. We have remaining many particular traditions, which bear tcftimony to a fa61, of itfelf abundantly probable. What makes the matter inconteftjble is, that the ancient traditional accounts of the genuine origin of the Scots, have been handed down with- out interruption. Though a few ignorant fenachies might be perfuaded out of their own opinion, by the fmoothnels of an Irilh tale, it was impoffible to eradicate, from among tlie bulk of the people, their own national traditions. Thefe traditions afterwards fo much prevailed, that the Highlanders continue to- tally unacquainted with the pretended Hibernian ex- trad of the Scots nation. Ignorant chronicle Vvri- ters, ftrangers to the ancient language of their cuun- ' try, preferved only from fallen to the ground fo im- probable a ftory.
It
178 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING
It was during the period I have mentioned, that the Iri(h became acquainted with, and carried intoi; their country, the compofitions of Offian. The fcene of many of the pieces being in Ireland, fug- gefted lirft to them a hint, of making both heroes 1 and poet natives of that ifland. In order to do this effe(3;ually, they found it neceflary to rejedl the ge- nuine poems, as every Hne was pregnant with proofs of their Scottish original, and to drefs up a fable, on the fame fubjecl, in their own language. So ill I qualified, however, were their bards to efFecluate| this change, that amidft all their defires to make the Fiona Irishmen, they every now and then called them Sio/ Aibin, It was, probably, after a fuccefuon of* fome generations, that the bards had efFrontry e- nough to eftablifh an Irifh genealogy for Fmi^ and deduce him from the Milefian race of kings. In fome of the oldeft Irifli poems, on the fubject, the great grandfather of Fion is made a Scandinavian ; and his heroes are often called SiOL Lochlin na
BEUM; I.e. the race of Lochlin of iDounds. The only
poem that runs up the family of Fion to Nuades Niveus, king of Ireland, is evidently not above a hundred and fifty years old ; for, if I miftake not, it mentions the Earl of Tyrone, fo famous in Eliza- beth's time.
This fubjec5l-, perhaps, is purfued farther than it deferves; but a difcuflion of the pretenfions of Ire- land to Offian, was become in feme meafure ne- ceflary. If the Irifli poems, concerning the Fiona^. fhould appear ridiculous, it is but juftice to obferve, that they are fcarcely more fo than the poems of' other nations at that period. On other fubjefts, the bards of Ireland have difplayed a genius worthy of any age or nation. It was, alone, in matters of antiquity, that they were monflrous in their fa- bles. Their love-fonnets, and their elegies on the death of perfons worthy or renowned, abound with fuch beautiful fimplicity of fentiment, and wild har- mony
THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. I79
mony of numbers, that they become more than an atonement for their errors, in every other fpecies of poetry. But the beauty of thefe pieces, depend fo much on a certain cuno/a Jelktias of expreflion in the original, that they muft appear much to difadvan-= tage in another language.
A CRITICAL
A
CRITICAL DISSERTATION
ON THE
POEMS OF O S S I A N,
THE
SON OF FINGAL.
BY HUGH BLAIR, D. D.
ONE OF THE MINISTEBS OF THE HIGH CHURCH, AND
PROFESSOR OF nHETOBIC ANB BEL LES-LETTHES,
JN THE UNIVEHSITY OF EDINBVRGH.
Vol. IL (^
A CRITICAL
DISSERTATION
ON THE
POEMS OF OSSIAN,
THE
SON OF FINGAL.
AMONG the monuments remaining of the an- cient ftate of nations, few are more valuable ' than their poems or fongs. Hiftory, when it treats of remote and dark ages, is feldom very inftruciive. The beginnings of fociety, in every country, are in- voh'ed in fabulous confufion ; and though they were not, they would furniOi few events worth recording. But, in every period of fociety, human manners are ' a curious fpectacle ; and the moft natural pictures of
I ancient man.iers are exhibited in tlie ancient poems of nations. Thefe prefent to us, what is much moie ;' valuable than the hiftory of fuch tranfaclions as a : rude age can afford, Tlie hiftory of human imagina- 1 tion and pallion. They make us acquainted wi:h
the notions and feelings of uur fellow-creatures in the i: moft artlefs ages ; difcovering what objects they a<!- r| mired, and what pleafures they purfued, before thofe '] refinements of fociety had taken place, jv^'hich enlarge I indeed and diverfify the tranfactions, but diiguife the I manners of mankind. j Befides this merit, wl.ich ancient poems have
with philofophical obfervers of human nature, they
■ have another with p;rfons of tafte. They promire
0^2 fume
J84. A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
forr.e of the higheft beauties of poetical writing. Ir- regular and unpolifhed we may expe6t the produc- tions of uncultivated ages to be ; but abounding, at the fame time, with that enthufiafm, that vehemence and fire, v-.hich are the foul of poetry. P'or many circurnftances of thofe times which we call barbarous, are favourable ro the poetical fpirir. That ftate, in which human nature flioots wild and free, though unfit for other improvements, certainly encourages the high exertions of fancy and paffion.
In the infancy of focieties, men live fcattercd and difperfcd, in the rnidft of fol.taiy rural fcenes, where the beauties of nature are their chief entertainment. TtKy meet with many objeds, to them new and ftrange ; tJieir wonder and furprife are frequently ex- cited ; and by the fudden changes of fortune occur- ing in their unfettled ftate of life, tneir paflions are raifed to the utmoft. Their paffions have nothing to refirain them : their imagination has nothing to check it. They difplay themfelves to one ano- ther without difguife: and converfe and aft in the iincovoured fimplicity of nature. As their feelings are flrong, fo their language, of itfelf, aiTumes a poeti- cal turn. Prone to exaggerate, they defcribe every thing in the flrongeft colours; which, of courfe, renders their fpeech pidlurefque and figurative. Fi- gurative language owes its riTe chiefiy to two caufcs ; to the want ot proper names for objects, and to the influence of imagination and paffion over the form of expreliion. Both thefe caufes concur in the in- fancy of focicty- Figures are commonly confidered as artificial modes of fpetch, devifed by orators and poets, after tj^e world had advanced to a refined (iate. The contrary of this is the truth. INlen never have ufed fo many figures of ftyle, as in thofe rude ages, wlien, befides the power of a warm imagination to fu[7,gelf lively images, the want of proper and precife terms for the ideas they would exprefs, obliged them to have rccourfe to circumlocution, metaphor, com- parifon, and al! thofe fubflituted forms of exprefHon,
which
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAK. 185
which give a poetical air to language. An Ameri- can chief, at this day, harangues at the head of his tribe, in a more bold metaphorical rtyle, th:in a mo- dern European would adventure to ufe in an epic poem.
In the progrefs of fociety, the genuis and man- ners of men undergo a change more favourable to accuracy than to fprightlinefs and fublimity. As the world advances, the underftanding gains ground up- on the imagination ; the underftanding is more exer- cifed; the imagination lefs. Fewer obje^Sts occur that are new or furprifing. Men apply therafelves to trace the caufes of things; they coned and refine one another ; they fubdue or difguife their paffions ; they form their exterior manners upon one uniform ftan- dard of politenefs and civility. Human nature is pruned according to method and rule. Language advances from fterility to copioufnefs, and, at the fame time, from fervour and enthufiafm, to correci:- nefs and precifion. Style becomes more chafte; but lefs animated. The progrefs of the world m this re- fpe£t refembles the progrefs of age in man. The powers of imagination are moft vigorous and predo- minant in youth ; thofe of the underftanding ripen more llowly, and often attain not their maturity, till the imagination begin to flag. Hence, poetry, which is the child of imagination, is frequently moll glow- ing and animated in the firft ages of fociety. As the ideas of our youth are remembered with a peculiar pleafure on account of their livelinefs and vivacity; fo the moft ancient poems have often proved the great- eft favourites of nations.
Poetry has been faid to be more ancient than profe; and however paradoxical fuch an affertion may feem, yet, in a qualified fenfe, it is true. Men certainly never converfed with one another in regular numbers; but even their oidinary language would, in ancient times, for the reafons before alhgneo, ap- Q. 3 proach
lg6 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
proach to a poetical ftyle; and the firft compofitionsi tranfmitted to pofterity, beyond doubt, were, ini a literal fenfe, poems ; that is, compofitions in ; which imagination had the chief hand, formed in- to fome kind of numbers, and pronounced with ai mufical modulation or tone. Mufsc or fong has beem foand coaeval with fociety among the moft barbarousi nations. The only (ubjeds which could prompt i men, in their firfl: rude Aate, to utter their thoughts i in compofitions of any length, were fuch as naturally^ affumed the tone of poetry ; praifes of their gods, on of th.eir anceftors ; commemorations of their own warlike exploits ; or lamentations over their misfor- tunes. And before writing was invented, no other compofitions, except fongs or poems, could take fuch I hold of the imagination and memory, as to be pre- ferved by oral tradition, and handed down from one race to another.
Hence vi'e may expecSl to find poems among the antiquities of all nations. It is probable too, that an cxte.'ifive fearch would difcover a certain degree of re- femblance among all the moft ancient poetical pro- t!uifi:ions, from whatever country they have proceed- ed. In a fimilar ftate of manners, fimilar objeiSs and : paflions operating upon the imaginations of men, will fiamp iheir productions with the fame general ( charaiSter. Some diverfity v^ill, no doubt, be ecca-' fioned by climate and genius. But mankind never ( bear fuch refembling features, as they do in the be- ginnings of fociety. its fubfequent revolutions givfti rife to the principal diftindtions among nations; andi divert, into channels widely feparated, that currents of human genius and manners which defcends origi- nally from one fpring. What we have been long ac- cuftomed to call the oriental vein of poetry, becaufe' fome ©f the earlieft poetical produ£tions have comc.t tc us from the Eaft, is probably no more oriental I than accidental j it is charadleriftical of an age
!her
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 187
ther than a country ; and belongs, in fome meafure, to all nations at a certain period. Of this the works of Oflian feem to furni(h a remarkable proof.
Our prefent fubjedl leads us to inveltigaie the an- cient poetical remains, not fo much of the Eaft, or of the Greeks and Romans, as of the Northern na- tions ; in order to difcover whether the Gothic poet- ry has any refemblance to the Celtic or Galic, which 1 we are about to confider. Though the Goths, under \ which name we ufualjy comprehend all the Scandina- vian tribes, were a people altogether fierce and martial, and noted, to a proverb, for their ignorance of the liberal arts, yet they too, from the earlieft times, i had their poets and their ibngs. Their poets were I diftinguiftied by the title of Scahkrs^ and their fongs ,! were termed Fyfes*. Saxo Grammaticus, a Daniih
hiltorian
• Olaus Wormiiis, in the Appendix to his Treatife dc Literatura Runica, has given a particular account of the Gdthic poetry, commonly called Runic, from i^wncj, which fignifies the Gothic letters. He informs us tliat there were no fewer than one hundred and thirty-Hx diffe- rent kinds of meafure or verfe ufcd in their Vyfes ; and though we are accuftomed to call rhyme a Gothic inven- tion, he fays exprcfsly, that among all thefe meafures, rhyme, or correfpondence of final fyllables, was never em- ployed. He analyfes the ftrufture of one of thefe kinds of verfe, that in which the poem of Lodbrog, afterwards quoted is written; which exhibits a very lingular fpccies of harmony, if it can be allowed that name, dependmg nei-
' thcr upon rhyme nor upon metrical feet, or quantity of fyllables, but chiefly upon the number of the fyllables, and
: the difpofition of the letters. In every flanza was an equal number of lines ; in every line fix fyllables. In
. each diftich, it was requifite that three words fliould begin with the fame letter ; two of the correfponding words placed in the firft line of the diftich, the third, in the fc- cond line. In each line were alio required two fyllables, but never the final ones formed either of the fame confonants, or i • fame
l88 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
hiftorian of confiderable note, who flouriflied in the thirteenth century, informs us that very many of thefe fongs, containing the ancient traditionary {To- ries of the country, were found engraven upon rocks in the old Runic character j feveral of which he has tranflated into Latin, and inferted into his hidory. But his verfions are plainly [o paraphraftical, and forced into fuch an imitation of the ftyle and the meafures of the Roman poets, that one can form no judgment from them of the native fpirit of the ori- ginal. A more curious monument of the true Go- thic poetry is preferved by Olaus Wormius in his book de Literatura Runica. It is an Epicedium, or funeral fong, compofed by Regner Lodbrogj
and
fame vowels. As an example of this mi;afure, Olaus gives us thefc two Latin lines conftrucled exadly at cording tO' the above rules of Runic verfe : —
ChriRus caput noflrum Coronet te bonis.
The initial letters of Chrlftus Caput and Coronet, n^akc the three correfponding letters of the diftich. In the frft line, the firft I'ylLbles of ChriRus and of noflrum ; in the fecond line, the cji in coronet and in bonis make the re- quifite corrcfpondence of fyllables. Frequent inverfions and tranfpofitions vere permitted in this poetry, which vt^ould naturally follow from fnch laborious attention to the collocation of words.
The curious on this fubjeft may confult likewife Dr. Hicks's Thefaurus Linguarum Septentrionalium ; particu- larly the 23d chapter of his Gramatica Anglo Saxonica et M^fo Gothlca ; where they will find a full account of the ' ftruAure of the Anglo-Saxon verfe, which nearly relembled the Gothic. They will find alfo fome fpecimens both of Go- thic and Saxon poetry. An cxtradl, which Dr. Hicks has : given from the work of one of the Danifh Scalders, intitled, Htrvarer Saga, containing an evocation iroin the dead, ni»y i be found in the 6th volume of Mifcelhny Poems, publilh- ed by Mr, Dryden^
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 189
and tranflated by Olaus word for word, from the ori- ginal. This Lodbrog was a king of Denmark, who lived in the eighth century, famous for his wars and victories ; and at the fame time an eminent ScaUer or poet. It was his misfortune to fall at laft into the hands of one his enemies, by whom he was thrown into prifon, and condemned to be deftroyed by fer- pents. In this fituation he folaced himfelf with re- hearfing all the exploits of his life. The poem is di- vided into twenty-nine ftanzas, of ten lines each ; and every ftanza begins with thefe words, Pugnavi- mus Enfibus, " We have fought with our fwords." Olaus's verfion is in many places fo obfcure as to be hardly intelligible. I have fubjoined the whole be- low exadly as he has publilhed it ; and fhall tranf- late as much as may give the Englifli reader an idea ilof the fpirit and ftrain of this kind of poetry *. I «We
i * I. Pugnavimus Enfibus
Haud port longinn tcmpus
Cum in Gotlandia acceffimus
Ad ferpentls immenfi ncccm
Tunc impctravimus Thoram
Ex hoc vocarunt mc virum
Quod ferpentem transfodi
Hirfutam braccam ob illam cedem
Cufpide ic\um intuli in colubrum
Ferro lucidorum nupcndiorem. 2, Multum juvenis lui quando acquifivimus
Orientcm verfus in Oreonico freto
Vuinerum amnes avids iz\s
Et flavipedi avi
Accepimus ibidem fonuerunt
AJ fublimes galeas
Dura fera magnam cfcam
Omnis erat oceanus vulnus
Vadavit corvus in fanguine Gajforura. ^. Alte tulimus tunc lanceas
Quando viginti annos numcravimus
Et cclebrem laudem cojnparavimus paffim
Vicimus
igO A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" We have fought with our fwords. I was young " when, towards the eaft, in the bay of Oreon, w " made torrents of blood flow, to gorge the raven *' ous hearts of prey, and the yellow-footed bird " There refounded the hard fteel upon the lofty he! " mets of men. The whole ocean was one wound
"Ih
V icimus o£lo barones
In orleute ante Dimini portum
Aquils impetravimus tunc fuiiicientcm
Hofpltii fumptum in ilia ftrage
Sudor decidit in vulnerum
Oceaiio perditit exercitus 2tatem. 4. Pugnz fafta copia
Cum HeIfingiano3 poflulavimus
Ad aulam Odini
Naves direximus in Oftium Viftulae
Mucro potuit turn mordere
Omnis erat vulnus unda
Terra rubefafta Calido
Frendebat gladius in loricas
Gladius findebat Clypeos. K.Memina neminem tunc fugiffe
Priu(quam in navlbus
Heraudus in bello cadcret
Non flndit navibus
Alius baro prsflantior
Marc ad portum
In navibus longis pofl ilium
Sic attulit prlnccps paflim
Alacre in bellum cor. t. Exercitus abjecit Clypeos
Cum hada volavit
Ardua ad virormn peftora
Momordit Scarforum cautes
Gladius in pugna
Sanguineus erat Clypeus
Antcquam Rafno rex cadcret
Fluxit ex virorum capitibus
Calidus in loricas fudor.
?. IlaBen
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. I9I
" The crow waded in the blood of the flain. When " we had numbered twenty years, we lifted our " fpears on high, and every where fpread our re-
" ncwB.
7. Habere potuerunt turn corti Ante Indirorum infulas SufEcientem przdam dilanianclam Acquifivimiis feris carnivoris Plenum prandium unico aftu Difficile erat unius faccre mcntionem Oricnte folc Spicula vidi pungerc Propulerunt arcus ex fe fcrra.
8. Ahum mugicrunt enfcs Antequam in Laneo campo Eiflinus rex cecidit Proceffimus auro ditati Ad terram proftratorum dimlcanduni Gladiui fecuit Clypcorum Pidluras in galearum convcntu Ceryicum muflum ex vulncribus Diffufum per cerebrum fiflum.
9. Tenuimus Clypeos in fanguine Cum haftam unximus Ante Boring holmum Tclorum nubcs difrumpunt cljpeum Extrufit arcus ex fc metallum Volnir cecedit in conflidu No erat illo rex major Csfi difperfi late per littora Fcrs ampleftcbantur efcam.
10. Pugna manifcfta crcfcebat Antequam Freyr rex caderct In Flandiorum terra Csepit czruleus ad incidendum Sanguine illitus in aurcam Loricam in pugna iJurus armorum roucro olim Virgo deploravit matutinam lanienam Multa prada dabatur feris.
II. Ccnties
ig2 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
•* nown. Eight barons we overcame in the eaft, be « fore the port of Diminum ; and plentifully we feaft " ed the Eagle in that Uaughter. The warm ftreaii
"0
1 1 . Ccntlcs ccntenos vidi jacerc
In navibus
Ubi iEnglancs vocatur
Navigavimus ad pugnam
Per fcx dies antcquam exercitiis cadcrct
Tranfcgimus mucronum rniflam
In cxortu folis
Coadlus eft pro noftris gladlis
Valdiofur in bcllo occumbcre. la.Ruit pluvia fanguinis dc gladiis
Praceps in Bardafyrde
Pallidum corpus pro accipitrlbus
Murmuravit arcus ubi niucro
Acriter mordcbat Loricas
In confliftu
Odini Pileus Galea
Cucurrit arcus ad vulnus
Vcnenate acutus confperfus fudorc fanguineo. s 3. Tcnuimus magica fcuta
Alte in pugns ludo
Ante Hiadningum fmum
Vidcre licuit turn viros
Qui gladiis lacerarunt Clypeos
In gladiatorio murmurc
Galear attrits virorum
Erat ficut fplendidam virgincm
In Icdo juxta fe collocare. ^4^. Dura venit tempcftas Clypcis
Cadavir cecedit in tcrram
In Nortumbria
Erat circa matutinum tempus
Hominibus neccfium erat fugcrc
Ex prselio ubi acute
Caflidis campos mordebant gladii
Erat hoc vclmi Juvenem viduam
In primaria fcdc ofculari.
15. Herthiofe
OK THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. I93
" of wounds ran into the ocean. The army fell before
" us. When we lleered our Ihips into the mouth of the
" Virtula, we fent the Helfingians to the hall of Odion.
Vol. U. K " Then
15. Hcrthiofe evafit fortunatus In Auftralibus Orcadibus ipfe VidlorisE in noHris hominibus Cogebatur in armorum niinbo Rogvaldus occumbere Ifte venit funimus fuper accipitres Liiftus in gladiorum hido Strenue jaftabat concuffor GalesE fanguinis teli.
16. Quilibet jacebat tranfverfim fupra alium Gaudebat pugna Isetus Accipiter ob gladiorum ludum Non fecit aquilam aut aprum Qu^i Irlandiam gubernavit Conventus fiebat ferri £c Clypei Marftanus rex jejuius Fiebat in vedrsE iinu Pr^da data corvis.
17. Bellatorem multum vidi caderc Mane ante machzram Virum in inucronum dilTidio Filio meo incidit mature Gladius jiixta cor Egillus fecit Agnerum fpoliatum Impertertitum virum vita Sonuit lancea prope Hamdi Grifeam loricam I[)lendebant vexilla.
18. Verborum tenaces vidi diffecare Haut minutim pro lupis Endili maris enfibus Erat per Hebdomadse fpacium Quafi mulieres vinum apportarent Rubefails erant naves Valde in ftrepitu armorum
Sclfla
194- A CRITICAL CISSERTATION
" Then did the fword bite. The waters were all " one wound. The earth was dyed red with the " warm ftream. The fword rung upon the coats of
" mail,
SclfTa erat lorica
In Scioldiingorum prselic. 19. Pukhrkomum vidi crepurculafcere
Virginis amatorem circa matutinum
Et confabulationis amicum viduarum
Erat ficut calidum bahieiim
Vinci vafis nympha portaret
Nos in Use freto
Antiquam Orn rex caderet
Sanguineum Clypcum vidi ruptum
Hoc invertit virorum vitam. 10. Egimu3 gladiorum ad ca;dem
Ludum in Lindis infula
(lum rcgibus tribus
Pauci potuerunt inde Istari
Cccedit nnil.us in ridum ferariim
Accipiter dilaniavit carnem cum lupo
Ut fatur indc difcedevet
Hybernorum larguis in oceannm
Copiofe decidit per maftationis tcmpus.
21. Ahe gladius mordebat Clypeos Tunc cum aurei coloris Hafta fricabat loricas Videre licuit in Onlugs infula Per fecula niuluim poft
Jbi fuit ad gladiorum ludos Reges procefferunt Rubicundum erat circa infulam Ar volans Draco vulnerum.
22. Qiiid elt viro forti morte certius Etfi ipfe in armorum nimbo Adverfus coHocatus fit
Siepe dcplorat aetatem Qui nuntjuam premitur Malum ferunt ximidum incitare,
Aquilam
ON THE POSMS OF OSSIAN. 195
pnall, and clove the bucklers in twain. None fled
on that day, till among liis fhips Pleraudus fell.
rhan him no braver baron cleaves the fea with
R 2 Ihips ;
i\quiJam ad gladiorum ludum
Meticulofus vcuit nulpiam
Cordi fuo ufui 23. Koc numcro squum ut procedat
In contactu gladiorum
Jinenis uni'.s contra alteriim
Non retrocedat vir a viro. j
Hoc fuit viri fortis nobllitas diu
Semper debet amoris amicus virginum
Audax effc in freraitu armorum.^ Z4. Hoc videtur mihi re vera
Quod fata lequimiir
Rarus tranlgreditur fata Paroaruai
Non deft;navi Ellas
De vit£ exltu ineas
Civjn ego fanguinem femimortuus tegcrem
Et naves in aquas protruli
Paffim impetravimus turn feris
Efcam ill Scotiae finubus. 25- Hoc lidere facit femper
Quod balderi patris feamna
Farata fcio in aula
Bibemns cerevifiam brevi
Ex concavis crateribus craniorum
Non gcmlt vir fortis contra moncm
Magnifici in Odini domibus
Non venlo defperabundis
Verbis ad odini aulam. 26. Hie vellent nunc cmnes
Filii Ailaugas gladlis
Amarum bellum excitare
Si exafte fcirent
Calamitatcs nofiras
Quern non paucl angucs
Venenati
196 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" fliips ; a chearful heart did he ever bring to the " combat; Then the hoft threw away their iliiekls, " when tlie uplifted fpear flew at the breads of lie- '• roes. The fword bit the Scarfian rocks ; bloody " was the fliield in battle, until Rafno the king was " ilain. Fi o;t) the heads of warriors tlie warm Iweat " ftreamed down their armour. The crows around " the Indirian iflands had an ample prey. It were " difficult to fingle out one among fo many deaths. *' At the rifing of the fun I beheld the fpears piercing
" the
Venenati me difcerpunt
Matrem accepi meis
Filiis ita ut corda valeant. 27. Valde inclinatur ad hsreditatem
Crudele ftat nocumentum a vipera
Anguis inhabitat aiilum cordis
Speramus alterius ad Othiiii
Virgam in EII22 fanguine
Fiiiis meis livefcet
Sua ira rubefcet
Non acres juvenes
Seffionem tranquillam facient, aS. Habeo quincuagies
Pr^lia fub fignis facia
Ex belli Invitatione & femel
Minime putavi hoiuinum
Quod me futurus effet
Juvenis didici rnucronem rubefacere
Alius rex przllantior
Nos Afs invitabunt
Non cit lugenda mors. 29. Fcrt animus nnire
Invitant me Dyfas
(>uas ex Othini Aula
Othinus mihi mifit
L^tus cerevifiam cum Afis
In fumma fede bibam
Vit£E elapfjE funt hora:
Ridens moriar.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIA.V. IC^-J
" the bodies of foes, and the bows throwing fortli " their fteel pointed arrows. Loud roared the fwords " in the plains of Lano. The virgin long bewailed " tlie llaughter of that morning." h\ this itiain the poet continues to defcribe feveral other military ex- ploits, Tlie images are not much varied ; the noife of arms, the ftreaming of blood, and the feafting the birds of prey, often recurring. He mentions the death of two of liis fons in battle; and the lamenta- tion he defcribes as made for one of them is very iingular. A Grecian or Roman poet would have introduced the virgins or nymphs of the wood, be- wailing the untimely fall of a young hero. But, fays our Gothic poet, " when Rogvaldus was flain, for him " mourned all the hawks of heaven," as lamenting a benefactor who had fo liberally fupplied them with prey ; " for boldly," as he adds, " in the ftrife of " fwords, did the breaker of helmets throw the fpear I « of blood."
I'he poem concludes with fentiments of the high-
eil bravery and contempt of death. " What is more
'• certain to the brave man than death, though amidii
" the ftorm of fwords, he Hands always ready to op-
" pofe it r He only regrets this life who hath never
! " known diftrefs. The timorous man allures the
i " devouring eagle to the field of battle. The coward,
I " wherever he comes, is ufelefs to himfelf. This 1
I " efteem honourable, that the youth Ihould advance
*' to the combat fairly matched one againft another ;
" nor man retreat from man. Long was this the
" warrior's higheft glory. He who afpires to the
" iove of virgins, ought always to be foremaft in
" the roar of arms. It appears to me of truth, that
■" we are led by the Fates. Seldom can any over-
" come the appointment of dei^iny. Little did I
" forefee that Ella* was to have my life in his hands,
Rj in.
* This was the namcof hii enemy who lud condcran?d- ihim to death.
igo A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" !n that day, when fainting I concealed my blood, *• and pulhed forth my ftiips into the waves ; after " we had fpread a repaft for the beafts of prey " throughout the Scottifh bays. But this makes me " always rejoice that in the halls of our father Balder " [or OdinJ I know there are feats prepared, where, " in a (hort time, we fhall be drinking ale out of the *' hollow fkuUs of our enemies. In the houfe of the " mighty Odin, no brave man laments death. I " come not with the voice of defpair to Odin's hall. " How eagerly would all the fons of Auflauga now *■« rulh to war did they know the diftrefs of their fa- " ther, whom a multitude of venemous ferpents tear? " 1 have given to my children a mother who- hath " filled their hearts with valour. I am fafl approach- " ing to my end. A cruel death awaits me from the '< viper's bite. A fnake dwells in the midft of my " heart. I hope that the fword of fome of my fons « fliall yet be ftained with the blood of Ella. The "^ valiant youths will wax red with anger, and will ^^ not fit in peace. Fifty and one times have I rear- *•• ed the ftandard in battle. In my youth I learned *'• to dye the fword in blood: my hope was then, that " no i<Ling among men would be more renowned than *' me. i"he goddefTes of death will now foon call *' me ; I muft not mourn my death. Now I end *' my fong. The goddefles invite me away; they ''" whom Odin has fent to me from his hall. I will " fit upon a lofty feat, and drink ale joyfully with " the goddefles of death. The hours of my life are " run out. I will fmile when I die."
This is fuch poetry as we might expedl from a; barbarous nation. It breathes a moll ferocious fpi- rit. It is wild, harfli, and irregular; but, at the fame time, animated and ftrong; the ftyle, in thci original, full of inverfioris, and, as we learn from: fome of Olaus's notes, highly metaphorical and figured.
Butfl
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. I99
But when when we open the works of Offian, a very different fcene prefents itfelf. There we find the fire and the enthufiafm of the moft early times, combined with an amazing degree of regularity and art. We find tendernefs, and even delicacy of fenti- nient, greatly predominant over fiercenefs and bar- barity. Our hearts are melted with the Ibftell: feel- ings, and, at the fame time, elevated with the higheft ideas of magnanimity, generofity, and true heroifm. When we turn from the poetry of Lodbrog to that of Ofiian, it is like paffmg from a favage defart, in- to a fertile and cultivated country. How is this to be accounted for ? Or by what means to be recon- ciled with the remote antiquity attributed to thefe poems ? This is a curious point and requires to be illuftrated.
That the ancient Scots were of Celtic original, is paft all doubt. Their conformity with the Celtic nations in language, manners, and religion, proves it to a full demonltration. The Celtae, a great and mighty people, altogether diftind from the Goths and Teutones, once extended their dominion over all the weft of Europe ; but feern to have had their moft full and complete eftablifhment in Gaul. Where- ever the Celtae or Gauls are mentioned by ancient writers, we feldom fail to hear of their Druids and their Bards ; the inftitution of which tv/o orders, was the capital diflinition of their manners and policy. The Druids were there philofophers and priefts; the Bards, their poets and recorders of heroic actions : And both thefe orders of men, feem to have fub- fifted among them, as chief members of the flate, from time immemorial *, We mufl not there- fore
* There are three tribes who are refpeftcd in different degrees, viz. the Bards, the Priefts, and the Draids. The Bards are the poets, and thofe who record the anions of their heroes. Strabo, B. IV.
Th«rc
200 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
fore imagine the Celt£ to have been altogether a grofs and rude nation. They pofTefred from very remote ages a formed fyftem of difcipline and man- ners, which appears to have had a deep and lafting influence. Ammianus Marcellinus gives them this exprefs teftimony, that there flourifhed among them the fi:udy of the mod laudable arts; introduced by the Bards, whofe office it was to fing in heroic verfe, the gallant adions of illuftrious men ; and by the Druids who lived together in colleges or focieties, af- ter the Pythagorian manner, and philofophifmg up- on the higheft fubjeils, afTerled the immortality of the Iruman foulf. Though Julius Caefar, in his account of Gaul, does not exprcfsly mention the Bards, yet it is plain that under the title of Druids, he comprehends that whole college or order; of which the Bards, who, it is probable, were the dif- ciples of the Druids, undoubtedly made a part. It deferves remark, that according to his account, the Druidical inftitution firft took, rife in Britain, and palTed;
from.
There are likewife among them the compofers of poems, .
whom they call Bards ; and thefe, with inftruments hkc
the lyre, celebrate the praifes of fome, and rail agaiiift o-
tbers. Died. Sicul. B. V.
And thofe who are called Bards, arc their oracles, and
thefe bards arc poets who fing praifes ia odes. Pojldonius
ap. AtbetKgum, B. VI.
t Per haEc loco (fpeaking of Gaul) hominibus paulatim
cxcultis, viguere Jiudij laudabilhim doSiruiarum ; in- choata per Bardos & Euhagcs & Druidas. £t Bardi qui- dem fortia virorum illuftrium fafta hcroicis compofita ver- fibus cum dulcibus lyre modulis cantitarunt. Euhagcs vero fcrutantes feriem & fublimia naturae pandere cona- bantur. Inter hos Druidas ingeniis cclfiores, ut aufloritas Pythagorae decrevit fodalitiis adftriAi confortiis, quseftioni-- bus altarum occultarumque rerum ercdli funt ; & defpec- tantcs humana pronuntiarunt animas immortales. - Amnu- Marcellinus, 1, 15, cap. 9,
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 2CI
from thence into Gaul ; (o that they who afpired to be thorough maliers of that learning were wont to refort to Britain. He adds too, that fuch as were to be initiated among the Druids, were obliged to commit to tlieir memory a great number of verles, infomuch that fome employed twenty years in this courfe of education; and that they did not think it lawful to record thefe poems in writing, but facredly handed them down by tradition from race to race *.
So rtrong was the attachmen: of the Celtic nations to their poetry and their bards, that amidft all the changes of their government and manners, even long after the order of Druids was extmdt, and the national religion altered, the Bards continued to flouridi ; not as a fet of ftrolling fongfters, like the Greek ^oic^ci or Rhapfcdifts, in Homer's time, but as an order of men highly refpe6led in the ftate, and fupported by a public eftablifhment. We find them, according to the teflimonies of Stiabo and Diodorus, before the age of Auguftus Casfar; and we find them remaining under the fame name, and cxercifing the fame fun6lions as of old, in Ireland, and in the north of Scotland, almoft down to our own times. It is well known, that in both thefe countries, every Regulus or chief had his own bard, who was conf.dered as an officer of rank in his court; and had lands afligned him, vshich defcended to his family. Of the honour in which the bards were held, many inflances occur in Offian's poems. I On all important occafions, they were the ambafla- jdors between contending chiefs; and thdr perfons Iwere held facred. " Caiibar feared to firetch his i"fword to the bards, though his foul was dark. I" Loofe the bards, faid his brother Cathmor, they " are the fons of other times. Their voice Ihall be
" heard
* Vid. Cifar de bello Gall. lib. 6.
2C2 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" heard in other ages, when the kings of Temorai *' have failed."
From all this, the Celtic tribes clearly appear ta have been addided in fo high a degree to poetry, and to have made it fo much their ftudy from the earlieft times as may remove our wonder at meeting with a vein of higher poetical refinement among them, than was at firll: fight to have been expefted from among nations, whom we are accuftomed to call barbarous. Barbarity, I muil obferve, is a very equivocal term j it admits of many different forms and degrees j and though, in all of them, it excludes polifhed manners, it is, however, not inconfiflent with generous fentiments and tender afFe6lions*. What degrees of friendship,
love,
^ * Surely among the wild Laplanders, if any where, barbarity is in its moft pcrfedt ftate. Yet their love fongs which Scheffer has given us in his Lappania, are a prool that natural tendernefs of fentimcnt may be found in a country, into which the leaft glimraering ot fcience has never penetrated. To moft Englifh readers thefe fongs are well known by the elegant tranflations of them in the Spec- tator, No. 366 and 406. I Hiall fubjoin SchefFer's Latin verfion of one them, which has the appearance of being ftridly literal.
Sol, clarllimum emitte lumen paludem Orra. Si enifus in fumma picearum cacumina fcirem me vifurum Orra pa- ludem, in ea enitcrcr, ut viderem inter quos arnica, mea cITct flores ; omnes fufcinderem frutices ibi enatos, omnes ranios prsfecarem, hos virentes ramos. Curfam nubium effcm fecutus, qu2 iter kmm iflituunt verfus paludem Oj li ad te volare poffem alls, cornicum alis. Sed mlhi defunt ala:, zlx qucrquedul^ pedefque, anferum pedes plantzsve bons, qu2 deferre me valeant ad te. Satis expeciafti diu, per tot dies, tot dies tuos optimos, oculis tuis jucundiflimis,, corde tuo amiciflimo. Quod fi longiffime velies efFugerc,! cito tamen tc confequeror. Quid firmius validiufve cCfe; potell quam contorti nervicateuseve ferrese, qucj duriffime
llcjant?
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 203
love, and heroifm, may poflibly be found to prevail in a rude ftate of fociety, no one can fay. Aftonifh- ing inftances of them we know, from hiftory, have fometimes appeared : and a few characters diftln- I guifhed by thofe high qualities, might lay a foun- dation for a fet of manners being introduced in- to the fongs of the bards, more refined, it is probable, and exalted, according to the ufual poetical licence, than the real manners of the country. In parti- cular, with refpedl to heroifm ; the great employ- ment of the Celtic bards, was to delineate the cha- racters, and fing the praifes of heroes. So Lucan:
Vos quoque qui fortes animos, belloque peremptos, Laudibus in longum vates diflunditis avura Plurinia fecuri fudiftis carmiiia Bardi.
Pharf. 1. I.
Now when we confider a college or order of men, who, cultivating poetry throughout a long feries of ages, had their imaginations continually employ- ed on the ideas of heroifm ; who had all the poems and panegyricks, which were compofed by their predeceflbrs, handed down to them with care ; who rivalled and endeavoured to outftrip thofe who had gone before them, each in the cele- bration of his particular hero ; is it not natural to think, that at length the character of a hero would appear in their fongs with the higheft luftre, and be adorned with qualities truly noble ? Some of the qualities indeed which diftinguilh a Fingal, mo- deration, hum.anity, and clemency, would not pro- bably
1 ligant ? Sic amor contorquet caput noflrum, mutat cogita- i tiones & fcntentias. Peurorum voluntas, voluntas venti ; juvenum cogitationes, longs cogitationcs. Quos fi audi- rem omnes, a via, a via jufta declinarem. Unum eft con- rilium quod capiam ; ita fcio viam vcdliorem me repertu- SchefFeri Lapponia, Cap. 25.
" 204 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
bably be the firft ideas of hcroifm occuring to a bar- barous people: But no fooner had fuch ideas begun to dawn on the minds oi the poets, than, as the hu- man mind eafily opens to the native reprefentations of human perledion, ihey would be feized and em- braced ; they would enter into their panegyricks ; they would afford materials for fucceeding bards to work upon, and improve; they would contribute not a little to exalt the public manners. For fuch fongs as thefe, familiar to the Celtic warriors from their childhood, and through.out their whole life, both in war and in peace, their principal entertainment, muft have had a very confiderable influence in pro- pagating among them real manners nearly approach- ing to the poetical ; and in forming even fuch a hero i as Fingaj. Efpecia'ly when we confider that among their limited objects of ambition, among the few ad- vantages which in a favage ftate, man could obtain over man, the chief was Fame, and that immortality which they expeded to receive from their virtues and exploits in the fongs of bards *.
Having made thefe remaiks on the Celtic poetry and bards in general, I rtiall next confider the parti- cular advantages which Oflian poflefled. He appears i clear'y to have lived in a period which enjoyed all the: benfit I juft now mentioned of traditionary poetry. The exploits of Trathal, Trenmor, and the other anceftors of Fingal, are fpoken of as familiarly. known. Ancient bards are frequently alluded to.- In one remarkable paflage, Offian defcribes himfelf
as:
* When Etlward I. conquered Wales, he put to death all the Welch bards. This cruel policy plainly (hews, how great an influence he imagined the fongs of thefe bards to have over the minds of the people ; and of what nature he judged that influence to be. The Welch bards were of the fame Celtic race with the Scottifh and Irifh.
ON THE PGEM3 ©F OSSIAN. 205
as living in a fort of claffical age, enlightened by the memorials of former times, which were conveyed in the fongs of bards ; and points at a period of dark- nefs and ignorance which lay beyond the reach of tradition. His words," fays he, " came only by " halves to our ears ; they were dark as the tales of " other times, before the light of the fong arofe." OfTian himfelf appears to have been endowed by na- ture with an exquifite fenfibility of heart ; prone to that tender melancholy which is fo often an attendant on great genius ; and fufceptible equally of ftrong and of foft emotions. He was not only a profefled bard, educated with care, as we may eafily believe, to all the poetical art then known, and connecled, as he fliews us himfelf, in intimate friendlhip with the other contemporary bards, but a warrior alfo ; and the (on of the moft renowned hero and prince of his age. This formed a conjuclion of circumlknces, uncom- monly favourable towards exalting the imagination of a poet. He relates expeditions in which he had been engaged ; he fmgs of battles in which he had fought and overcome j he had beheld the moft illui- trious fcenes which that age could exhibit, both ef heroifm in war, and magnificence in peace. For however rude the magnifc^nce of thofe times may feem to us, we muft remember that all ideas of magnificence are comparative ; and that the age of Fingal was an asra of dilVmguhhed fplendor in that part of the world. Fingal reigned over a coii- fiderable territory ; he was enriched with the fpoils of the Roman province; he was ennobled by his vidlories and great actions ; and was in all refpeuis a perfonage of much higher dignity than any of
' the Chieftains, or heads of Clans, who lived in the fam.e country, after a more extenfive monarchy was eftabliJhed.
The manners of Offian's age, fo far as we can gar
I then them from his writings, were abundantly ta- VoL. If. S vourabic
206 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
vourable to a poetical genius. The two difpirited vices, to which Longinus imputes the decline of I poetry, covetoufnefs and effeminacy, were as yet un- known. T lie cares of men were few. They lived I a roving indolent life ; hunting and war their princi- pal employments ; and their chief amufements, the inufic of bards and " the feaft of fhells." The great objeiSl purfiied by heroic fpirits, was " to receive their fame, that is to become worthy of being cele- brated in the fongs of bards; and " to have their ■ " name on the four gray ftones." To die, unla- mented by a bard, was deemed fo great a misfortune, as even to difiurb their ghofts in another ftate. " I'hey wander in thick mills befide the reedy lake; but never fliall they rife, without ihe fong, to the dwelling of winds." After death, they expected to follov; employments of the fame nature with thofe which had amufed them on earth ; to fly with their friends on clouds, to purfue airy deer, and to liflen to their praife in the mouths of bards. In fuch times as thefe, in a country where poetry had been fo long cultivated, and fo highly honoured, is it any wonder, that among the race and fucceflion of bards, one Homer fhould arife; a man who, endowed with a natural happy genius, favoured by peculiar advan- tages of birth and condition, and meeting in the courfe of his life with a variety of incidents proper to fire his imagination, and to touch his heart, ihould attain a degree of eminence in poetry, worthy to draw the admiration of more refined ages ?
The compofitions of OfTian are fo Itrongly mark- ed with characlers of antiquity, that although there were no external proof to fupport that antiquity, hardly any reader of judgment and taite, could he- fitate in referring them to a very remote arra. There^ are four great Itages through which men fuccefTivelj pafs in the progrefs of fociety. The firff and earlielV iS the life of hunters ; paflurage fucceeds to this, as the'
ideas'
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 20/
ideas of property begin to take root ; next agriculture ; and lartly, commerce. Throughout OlTian's poems, we plainly find ourfelves in the lirft of thefe periods of fociety ; during which, hunting was the chief employment of men, and the principal method cf their procuring fubfiilence. Pafturage was not indeed wholly unknown ; for v.-e hear of divid- ing the herd in the cafe of a divorce; but the al- lufions to herds and to cattle are not many ; and of agriculture, we find no traces. No cities appear to have been built in the territories of Fingal. No arts are mentioned, except that of navigation and of working in iron*. Every thing prefents to us the moi'^ fimple and unimproved manners. At tlieir feafls, the heroes prepared t.heir ovva repaid ; they fat S 2 round
* Their fkill in navigation need not at all furprife ns. Living in the wenern iilands, along the coa{\, or in a country which is every where iiUerfected with arms of the fea, one of the fiift objefts of their attention, from the carliefi time, muft have been how to traverfe the waters. Hence that knowledge of the ftars, fo neceffary for guid- ing them by night, of which we find feveral traces in OiTian's u'ci ks ; particularly in the beautiful defcription of Cathmor's fliield, in the feventh book of Temora. Anong all the northern maritime nations, navigation was very early ftnditd. Piratical incurfions were the chief means they employed for acquiring booty ; and were among the firil exploits which dlfiinguifhed them i'l the world. Even the favagc Americans were at their firfl difcovery found to polTefs the mofl furpriimg ikill and dexterity in navigatihg their immenfe lakes and rivers.
The defcription of GuchuUon's chariot, in the firfl book of Fingal has been objected to by fome, as reprcfenting greater magnificence than is confident with the fuppofcd poverty of that age. But this chariot is plainly only a horfe-litter ; and the gems mentioned in the defcription^ are no other than the (hining ftones or pebbles, known to be frequently found along the weftera coaft of Scotland,
2Ca A CRITICAL DISSERTATION.
round the light of the burning oak ; the wind lifted their Jocks, and whirled through their open halls. Whatever was beyond the neceflbries of life was known to them only as the fpoi! of the Roman pro- vince; " the gold of theflranger; the lights of the " ftranger ; the fteeds of the ftranger j tl^e children " of the rein."
This reprefentation of Offisn's ti;res, muft flrike us the more, as genuine and authentic, when it is compared with a poem of later date, which JVIr. Mac- pherfbn lias preferved in one of his notes. It is that -wherein five bards are reprefented as pafllng the even- ing in the houfe of a chief, and each of them feparately giving his defcription of the night. The night fcene- ry is beautiful ; and the author has plainly imitated the flyie and manner of Offian : But he has allowed fome images to appear which betray a later period of fcciety. For we meet with windows clapping, the. herds of goats and cows feeking fhclier, the fliepherd wandering, corn on the plain, and the wakeful hind rebuilding the fhocks of corn which had been over- turned by the tempefi. Whereas, in Offian's works^ from beginning to end, all is ccnf.ftent ; no modern ailufion drops from him; but every where, the fame face of rude nature appears ; a country wholly un- cultivated, thinly inhabited, and recently peopled.. The grafs of the rock, the flower of the heath, the th.ftle with its beard, are the chief ornaments of his. landfcapes. " The defart," fays Fingal, " is e- *' nough to me, with ail its woods and deer."
7'he circle of ideas and tranfai^lions, is no wider than fuits fuch an age : Nor any greater diverfity in- troduced into characters, than tlie events of that pe. riod would naturally difplay. Valour and bodily firength are the admired qualities. Contentions arife, as is ufual among favage nations, from the flighteft czufes. To be affronted at a tournament, or to be omitted in the invitation to a feafl, kindles a war.
Wontiea.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSiAN. 2O9
Women are often carried away by force ; 2nd tlie whole tribe, as in the Homeric times, rife to avenge the wrong. The heroes (how relinement of fenii- ment, indeed, on feveral occafions, but none of man- ners. They fpeak of their paft actions with free- dom, boaft of their exploits, and fmg thdr own praife. In their battles, it is evident that drums, trumpets, or bagpipes, were not known or ufed. They had no expedient for giving the military alarms but flriking a fhield, or raifing a loud cry: And hence the loud and terrible voice of P'ingal is often mentioned, as a necefTary qualification of a great ge- neral. Of military diibpline or /kill, they appear to have been entirely deflitute. Their armies feem not to have been numerous ; their battles were dif- orderly; and terminated, for the moft part, by a perfonal combat, or wreftling of the two chiefs ; af- ter which, " the bard fung the fong of peace, and the " battle ceafed along the field."
The manner of compofition bears all the marks of the greateft antiquity. No artful tranfitionsj nor full and extended connecSlion of parts ; fuch as we find among the poets of later tim.es, when order and regularity of compofition were more ftudied and known ; but a ftyle always rapid and vehement j in narration concife, even to abruptnefs, and leaving feveral circumflances to be fupplied by the rea- der's imagination. The language has all that figu- rative caft, which, as I before fiiewed, partly a glow- ing and undifciplined imagination, partly the fteri- lity of language, and the want of proper terms, have always introduced into the early fpeech of nations ; and, in feveral refpects, it carries a re- markable refemblance to the llyle of t!ie Old Tef- tament. It deferves particular notice, as one of the moft genuine and decifive charaflers of an- tiquity, that very few general term.s or abllraded ideas are to be met with in the whole collection of S 3 Offiaa's-
210 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
Ofllan's works. The ideas of men, at firft, were all particular. They had not words to exprefs general conceptions. Thefe were the confequence or more profound rcfle£tion, and longer acquaintance with the arts of thought and of fpeech. Offian, accordingly, al- moft never expreffes himfelf in the abftradi. His ideas extended little farther than to the objeds he faw around him. A public, a community, the univerfe, were conceptions beyond his fphere. Even a mountain, a fea, or a lake, which he has occafion to mention, though only in a fimilie, are for the mofi part parti- cularized: it is the hill of Cromla, the ftorm of the ' fea of Malmor, or the reeds of the lake of Lego. A mode of expreflion, which, whilft it is characTteriftical of ancient ages, is, at the fame time, highly favourable ' to defcriptive poetry. For the fame reafons, perfoni- fication is a poetical figure not very common with Offian. Inanimate objefts, fuch as winds, trees, flowers, he fometimes perfonifies with great beauty.. But the perfonifications, which are fo familiar to later poets, of Fame, Time, Terror, Virtue, and the reft of that clafs, were unknown to our Celtic bard. Thefe were modes of conception too abftia^t for his age.
All thefe are marks fo undoubted, and fome ofi them too, fo nice and delicate, of the moft early times, as put the high antiquity of thefe poems out of queftion. Efpecially when we confider, that if there had been any impofture in this cafe, it muft. have been contrived and executed in the Highlands ' of Scotland, two or three centuries ago; as, up to. this period, both by manufcripts, and by the tefti-- mony of a multitude of living witnefTes, concerning.; the uncontravertible tradition of thefe poems, they ( can clearly be traced. Now, this is a period when that country enjoyed no advantages for a compofition' of this kind, which it may not be fuppofed to have i enjoyed in as great, if not in a greater degree, a thou-
fand.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 211
fond years before. To fuppofe tliat two or three hun- dred years ago, when we well knew the Highlands to have been in a flate of grofs ignorance and barbarity, there fliould have arifen in that country a poet, of fuch exquifite genius, and of fuch deep knowledge of mankind, and of hiftory, as to divellhimfelf of the ideas and manners of his own age, and to give us a juft and natural picture of a ftate of fociety, ancienter by a thoufand years ; one who could fupport this counterfeited antiquity, through fuch a large collec- tion of poems without the lead inconfiftency ; and who, pofiefTcd of all this genius arid art, had at the fame time the felf-denial of concealing himfelf, and of afcribing his own works to an antiquated bard, without the impoilure being detected, is a fuppofition that tranfcends all bounds of credibility.
There are, befides, two other circumftances to be attended to, ftill of greater weight, if pofllble, againft this hypothefis. One is, the total abfence of leligi- ous ideas from this work ; for which the tranllator has, in his preface, given a very probable account, on the footing of its being the work of OiHan. The druidical fuperftition was, in the days of Offian, on the point of its final extinction ; and for particular reafons, odious to the family of Fingal ; whi!ft the Chriftian faith was not yet eftabliihed. But had it been the work of one, to whom the ideas of Chrifti- anity were familiar from his infancy; and who had fuperadded to them alfo the bigotted fuperftition of a dark age and country ; it is impofTib'e but in fome paffage or other, the traces of them would have ap- peared. The other circumftance is, the entire filence which reigns with refpedt to all the great clans of fa- milies, which are now eftablifhed in the highlands. The origin of thefe feveral clans is known to be very ancient : And it is as well known, that there is no paffion by which a native Highlander is more di- ftinguifhedj than by attachment to his clan, and jea-
loufy
212 A CRI'IICAL DISSERTATION
loufy for its honour. That a Highland bard, in forging a work, relating to the antiquities of his coun- try, (hould have inferted no circumftance which pointed out the rife of his own dan, whicii afcertain- ed its antiquity, or increafed its glory, is of all fup- pofitions tliat can be formed, the nioft improbable ; and the filence on this head amounts to a demon- flration that the author lived before any of the pre- fent great clans were formed or known.
Affuming it then, as we well may, for certain, that the poems now under confideration, are genuine venerable monuments of very remote antiquity ; I proceed to make fome remarks upon their general fpirit and firain. The two great charaderi/tics of Ollian's poetry are, tendernefs and fublimity. It breathes nothing of the gay and cheerful kind ; aa air of folemnity and ferioufne's is diffufed over the whole. Oflian is perhaps the only poet who never relaxes, or lets himfetf' dow^n into the light and amu- fing Ibain y which I readily admit to be no fmall difad- vantage to ijim with the bulk of readers. He moves perpetually in the high region of the grand and the pathetic. One key note is flruck at the beginning, and fupported to the end; nor is any ornament intro- duced but what is perfec^tly concordant with the general tone or melody. The events recorded, are all feri- ous and grave; the fcenery thioughout, wild and ro- mantic. The extended heath by the fea fhore ; the mountain (haded with mifi ; the torrent rufhing through a folitary valley ; the fcattered oaks, and the tombs of warriors overgrown with mofs ; all produce a folemn attention in the mind, and prepare it for great and extraordinary events. We find not inOffian, an imagination that fports itfelf, and drefles out gay trifles to pleafe the fancy. His poetry, more perhaps tlian that of any other writer, deferves to be ftyled, T/id Poetry of the Heart. It is a heart penetrated with noble fentiments, and with fublime and tender paf,-
fions i.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 213
fions ; a heart that glows and kindles the fancy ; a heart that is full, and pours itfelf forth. Offian did not write, like modern poets, to pleafe readers and critics. He fiing from the love of poetry and fong. His delight was to think of the heroes among whom he had flourirtied ; to recal the afFe(5Hng incidents of his life; to dwell upon his pafi: wars, and loves, and friendiliips ; till, as lie exprefies it himfelf, " There " comes a voice to Offian and awakes his foul. It is " the voice of years that are gone; they roll before " me with all their deeds ;" and under this true poetic infpiration, giving vent to his genius, no wonder we ihould fo often hear, and acknowledge in his ftrainSj the powerful and ever-p!eafing voice of nature.
Arte, natura potenticr omni^ —
Eft Deus in nobis, agitantc calefcimus illo.
It is neceflary here to obferve, that the beauties of Offian's writings cannot be felt by thofe who have given them only a fmgle or a hafty perufal. His manner is fo different from that of the poets, to whom we are moft accuftomed ; his ftyle is fo con- cife, and fo much crowded with imagery ; the mind is kept at fuch a firetch in accompanying the author; that an ordinary reader is at firft apt to be dazzled and fatigued, rather than pleafed. His poems re- quire to be taken up at intervals, and to be frequently reviewed ; snd then it is impoinble but his beauties muft open to every reader who is capable of fenfibili- ty. Thofe who have the higheft degree of it, will reliih them the moft.
As Homer is of all the great poets, the one whofe manner, and whofe times come the neareft to Of- fian's, we are naturally led to run a parallel in fome inftances between the Greek and the Celtic bard. For though Homer lived more than a thoufand years before Olii^in, it is- not from the age of the world,
but
214 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
but from the ftate of fociety, that we are to judge of refembling times. The Greek has, in feveral points,| a manifeft fuperiority. He introduces a greater va- riety of incidents ; he poirfflcs a larger compafs of ' ideas ; has more diverfity in his characters ; and a much deeper knowledge of human nature. It was not to be expeded, that in any of thefe particulars,. Offian could equal Homer. For Homer lived in a country where fociety was much farther advanced ; he had beheld many more objeils ; cities built and fiouriiliing ; laws iuiVituted ; order, difcipline, and arts begun. His field of obfervation was much larger and more fplendid ; his knowledge, of courfe, more extenfive ; his mind alfo, it fliall be granted, more penetrating. But if Offian's ideas and objedls be lefs diverfified than thofe of Homer, they are all, however, of the kind fitteft for poetry : The brave- ry and generofity of heroes, the tendernefs of lovers, the attachments of friends, parents and children. In a rude age and countrv, though the events that hap- pen be few, the undiffipated mind broocls over them more ; they ftrike the imagination, and fire the paf- fions in a higher degree j and of confequence become happier materials to a poetical genius, than the fame events when fcattered through the wide cirle of more varied a6lion, and cultivated life.
Homer is a more cheerful and fprightly poet . than OfTian. You difcern in him all the Greek vivacity J whereas Olfian uniformly maintains the: gravity and folemnity of a Celtic hero. This too- is in a great meafure to be accounted for from tlie different iituations in which they lived, partly, perfonal, and partly national. Olfian had fu'vived all his friends, and was dilpofed to melancholy by the incidents of his life. But befides this, cheerful- nefs is one of the many bleffings which we owe tO' formed fociety. The folitary wild fiate is always a Icrious one. Bating the fudden and violent burils ojfr
uiirthj
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 215
mirth, wliich fometimes break forth at their dances and feafts ; the favage American tribes have been noted by all travellers for their gravity and taciturni- ty. Somewhat of this taciturnity may be alfo re- marked in OlFian. On all occafions he is frugal of his words ; and never gives you more of an image or a defcription, than is juft fufficient to place it before you in one clear point of view. It is a blaze of light- ning, which flalhes and vanifhes. Homer is more extended in his defcriptions ; and fills them up with a greater variety of circumftances. Both the poets are dramatic; that is, they introduce their perfon- ages frequently fpeaking before us. But Offian is concife and rapid in his fpeeches, as he is in every other thing. Homer, with the Greek vivacity, had alfo fome portion of the Greek loquacity. His fpeeches indeed are highly chara6lenftical ; and to them we are much indebted for that admirable dif- play he has given human of nature. Yet if he be te- dious any where, it is in thefe; fome of them trifling, and fome of them plainly unfeafonable. Both poets are eminently fublime ; but a difference may be re- marked in the fpecies of their fublimlty. Homer's fublimity is accompanied with more impetuofity and fire 3 OlTian's with more of a folemn and awful grandeur. Homer hurries you along; Ofllan ele- vates, and fixes you in aftonilhment. Homer is moft fublime in actions and battles ; Offian, in defcription and fentiment. In the pathetic, Homer, when he chufes to exert it, has great power ; but Offian ex- erts that power much oftener, and has the charader of tendernefs far more deeply imprinted on his works. No poet knew better how to feizeand melt the heart. With regard to dignity of fentiment, the pre-emi- nence muft clearly be given to Olfian. This is in- deed a fu.-prifing circumftance, that in point of hu- manity, magnanimity, virtuous feelings of every kind, our rude Celtic bard fhould be dillinguiflied to fuch a
degree.
2l6 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
degree, that not only the heroes of Homer, but even thofe of the polite and refined Virgil, are left far be- hind by thofe of Offian.
After thefe general obfervations on the genius and fpirit of our author, I now proceed to a nearer view. and more accurate examination of his works : and as Fingal is the firft great poem in this colleftion, it is proper to begin with it. To refufe the title of an epic poem to Fingal, becaufe it is not in every little parti- cular exaftly conformable to the praftice of Homer and Virgil, were the mere fqueamifhnefs and pedant- ry of criticifm. Examined even according to Ari- ftotle's rules, it will be found to have all the efTential requifites of a true and regular epic ; and to have fe- veral of them in fo high a degree, as at firft view to raife our aftonifhment on finding Ollian's compofi- tion fo agreeable to rules of which he was entire- ly ignorant. But our aftonifhment will ceafe, when we confider from what fource Ariftotle drew thofe rules. Homer knew no more of the laws of criticifm than Oflian. But, guided by nature, he compofed in verfe a regular ftory, founded on heroic actions, which all pofterity admired. Ariftotle, with great fagacity and penetration, traced the caufes of this ge- neral admiration. He obferved what it was in Ho- mer's compofition, and in the conduct of his ftory, wliich gave it fuch power to pleafe ; from this ob- fervation, he deduced the rules which poets ought to follow, who would write and pleafe like Ho- mer; and to a compofition formed according to fuch rules, he gave the name of an epic poem. Hence his whole fyftem arofe. Ariftotle ftu- died nature in Homer. Homer and Offian bothi wrote from nature. No wonder that among all the three, there fhould be fuch agreement and conformi- ty-
The fundamental rules delivered by Ariftotle con-i cerning an epic poem, are thefe: That the action
which
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 1\-]
which is the ground work of the poem, fhou'd be one, complete, and great; that it Ihould be feigned, not merely hiftoricai ; that it fhould be enlivened with characters and manners ; and heightened by the marvellous.
But before entering on snv of tliefe, it may per- haps be afked, w iiat is the moral of p^ingal f For, according to IvI. BofTu, an epic poem is no other than an allegory contrived to illuilrate fome moral truth. The poet, fays this critic, muft begin with fixing on fome maxim, or inftruftion, which he in- tends to inculcate on mankind. He next forms a fabie, like one of 7?^fop's, wholly with a view to the moral ; and having thus fettled and arranged his plan, lie tlien looks into traditionary hiftory for names and incidents, to give his fable fome air of probability. Never did a more fridgid, pedantic no- tion, enter into the mind of a critic. VVe may fafe- ly pronounce, that he who (liould compofe an epic poem after tins manner, who fhould firft lay down a moral and contrive a [ilan, before he had thought of his perfon3ges and actors, migiit deliver indeed very found inRrud ion, but v.oald find few readers. There cannot be the leaft doubt, that the hril object which ftrikes an epic poet, which tires his genius, and gives him any idea of his work, is the adtion or fubject he is to celebrate. Hardly is there any tale, anv fubject a poet can chufe for fuch a work, but will afford {o\-Az general moral inftruclion. An epic poem is by its nature one of the moft moral of all poetical compofitior.s : But its moral tendency is bv no means to be limited to fom.e commo;i-place maxim, which may be gathered from tlie ftory. It arifes from the admiration of heroic actions, which fuch a compofition is peculiarly calculated to produce; from the virtuous emot-ons which the characters and inci- dents raife, whilft we read it; from the happy im- : preiiion which all the parts feparately, as well as the Vol. II. T whole
2l8 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
whole taken together, leave upon the mind. How- ever, if a general moral be ftill infifted on, Fingal obvioufly furnilhes one, not inferior to that ©f any- other poet, viz. That Wifdom and Bravery always triumph over brutal force; or another nobler ftill: That the moft complete vidory over an enemy is obtained by that moderation and generofity which convert him into a friend.
The unity of the epic a6lion, which of all Arifto- tle's rules, is the chief and mod material, is fo ftricl- ly preferved in Fingal, that it muft; be perceived by every reader. It is a more complete unity than what arifes from relating the actions of one man, which the Greek critic juftly cenfures as imperfefl; it is the unity of one entcrprife, the deliverance of Ireland from the invafion of Swaran : An entcrprife, which has fiirely the full heroic dignity. All the incidents recorded, bear a conlbnt reference to one end ; no double plot is carried on ; but the parts unite into a regular whole: And as the aftion is one and great, i'o it is an entire or complete atflion. For we find as the critic farther requires, a beginning, a middle, and tin end ; a nodus, or intrigue in the poem ; difficul- , ties occuring through Cuchullin's rafhnefs and bad iuccefs-, thole difficulties gradually furmounted ; and St lart the work condu6fed to that happy conclufion which is held eiTential to epic poetry. Unity is indeed obferved with greater exaibnefs in Fingal, than in al- mortany other epic compofition. For not only is unity of fubject maintained, but that of time and place al- fo. The Autumn is clearly pointed out as the feafon of the action : and from beginning to end the fcene is never (hifted from the heath of Lena, along the fea- iliore. The duration of the aflion in Fingal, is much iLorter than in the Iliad or vEneid. But fure, there may be Hiorrer as well as longer heroic poems ; and if the authority of Ariftotle be alfo required for this, he fays exprefsly that the epic compofition is
iadeiinite
ON THE POEMS OF OSS] AN'. ::I9
indefinite as to the time of its duration. According- ly the adtion of the Iliad lafts on'y forty kwcn days, wliilft that of the ^^neid is continued for more than a year.
Throughout the wh.ole of Fingal, there reigns that grandeur of fentiment, ftyle, and imagery, which ouglit ever to dillinguifh this high fpecies of poet- ry. '] he ftory is condudcd with no fmalJ art- icle poet goes not back to a tedious recital of the beginning of the war with Swaran; but hail- ening to the main adion, he falls in exailly, by a moft happy coincidence of thought, witli the rule of Horace.
Semper ad eveutum fefrinat, & in r.jedias res.
Noil fccuo ac uotas, audiioreii rapit —
Nee gcmii'io belluni 'iVojauura orditur ab ovo.
D£ Arts Pcrr^
He invokes no mufe, for he acknowledged none ; but ills occafional addreifes to IMalvina, have a finer effect than the invocation of any mufe. He fc-ts out with no formal propofition of hisfubjecf; but the fubjeil naturally and eafily unfolds itfelf ; the poem opening in an aiiimated manner, with the fitu- a;ion of CuchuUin, and the arrival of a Scour, who informs him of Swaran's landing. Mention is prefently made of Fingal, and of the expected alliltance trom the fhips of the lonely ille, in or- der to give further liglit to the fubjecl. For the poet often Ihews liis addrcfs in gradually preparing us for the events he is to introduce ; and in par- ticular the preparation for the appearance of Fin- gal, the previous expectations, tliat are rai fed, and tire extreme magniiiccnce fully anfwsring thefe ex- pecfations, with which the hero is at lengrh pre- fented to us, are all worked up with fuch Ikillful con- duct as wcuic do honour to any poet of the moft i' 2 lefined
220 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
refined tirr.es. Homer's art in magnifying the cli3- rader of Achilles has been univerfally admired. Ol- fian certainly (hows no lefs art in aggrandizing Fin- ga!. Nothing could be more happily imagined for this purpofe than the whole management of the lafi i battle, wherein Gaul the Ton of Alorni, had befought I I'ingal to retire, and to leave him and his otlierl chiefs the honour of the day. Tlse generofitv of the I king in agreeing to this nropofal ; the niajefty with" which he retreats to tlie hill, from whence he was to behold the engagement, atrcnded by his bards, and waving the lightnir.g of his fwcrd ; his perceiving the chit-fa overpowered by numbers, but from unwiliingncfs to deprive them of the glory of vidtory by con)ing in perfon to their Eififiance, firtt fending Ullin, the bird, to ani- mate their courage; and at lafr, v/hcn the dan- ger becomes more prefi'.ng, his rifing in his might, 2nd interpofing like a divinity, to decide the doubtful fate cf the day ; are all circumftances con- trived with fo much art as plainly difcover the Celtic bards to have been not unpracbfed in heroic poetry.
The ftory which is the foundation cf the Iliad is in itfelf as funple as that cf Fingal. A quarrel arifes between Achilles and Agamemnon concerning a fe- male Have ; on which, Achilles, appreh,ending him; ftl-f to be injured, withdraws his alliilance from the lefl: of the Greeks. The Greeks fail into great dif-i trefs, and befeech him to be reconciled to them. Hcj refufes to fight for them in perfon, but fends hisi friend Patroclus; and upon his being llain, goesi forth to revenge his death, and kills Hector. The"' fubjeft of Fingal is this : Swaran comes to in- vade Ireland: Cuchullin, the guardian of the youngi king, had applied for affiftance to Fingal, who hadi reigned in the oppofite coafi of Scotland. But be- fore Fingal's arrival, h° is hurried by ralh counfel
to
ON THE rO£.Mc> Of OSHIAS. 221
to encounter Svvaran. He is defeated ; he retreats ; and defponds. Fingal arrives ia this conjundure. The battle is for fome time dubious ; but in the end he conquers Swaran: and the remembrance of Swa- ran's being the brother of Agandecca, who had once faved his hfe, makes him diimifs him honourably. Homer, it is true, has filled up his fiory with a much greater variety of particulars than Offian j and in this has lliown a compafs of invention fuperior to that of the other poet. But it muft not be forgotten, that though Homer be rnore circumftantial, his incidents, J)owever, are lefs diverfified in kind than tliofe of Oflian. War and bloodlhed reign throughout tiie Iliad ; and notwithftanding all the fertility of Ho- mer's invention, theie is lb much unifonnity in his fubje«5ts, that there are few readers, who before the dole, are not tired of perpetual fighting. Whereas in Offian, the mind is relieved by a more agreeable diverfity. There is a finer mixture of war and he- roifm, with love and friendihip, of martial, with ten- der icenes, than is to be met with, perhaps, in a^y other poet. The epifodes, too, have great proprie- ty : as natural, and proper to that age and coun- try : confifting of the fongs of bards, which are known to have been the great entertainment of the Celtic heroes in war, as well as in peace. 'Jhefe fongs are not introduced at random ; if you except the cpifode of Duchomor and Morna, in the firfl bock, which though beautiful, is more unartful, than any of the reft ; they have alv.-ays fome particular re- )ation to the ador who is interetkd, or to the events which are going on ; and, whilft they vary the fcene, they preferve a fuflicient connedfion with the main fubjed, by the fitnefs and propriety of their intro- duction.
As Fingal's love to Agandecca, influences fome circumflances of the poem, particularly the honour- able difmiffion of Swaran at the end j it was necef- T 3 fary
222 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION-
fary that we ihould be let into this part of the hero's ftory. But as it lay without the conipafs of tlic pre- ient artion, it could be regularly introduced no where, except in an epifode. Accordingly the poet, with as much propriety, as if Ariftotle hin:ifelt had directed the plan, has contrived an epifode for this purpofe, in the fong of Carril, at the beginning of the third book.
The conclufjcn of the pctm is flri6tly acccording to rule; and is every way nob'e and plccfing. The reconciliation of the contending heroes, the confo lation cf Cuchullin, and the general felicity that crowns the action, footh the mind in a very agreea ble manner, and form that paflage from agitation and trouble, to perfedt quiet and repofe, which critics re- quire as the proper termination of the epic work " Thus they paJGTed the night in fong, and brought " back the morning with joy. Fingal arofe on the " heath ; gnd (hook his ghttering fpear in his hand. *' He moved iirft towards the plains of Lena; and " we followed like a ridge of hre. Spread the fail,' " faid the king of Aloiven, and catch the winds that *' pour from Lena. We rofe on the wave with " fongs ; and rulhed with joy through the foam oi " the ocean." So much for the unity and gene, ral conduit of the epic adtion in Fingal.
W ith regard to that property of the fubje£t which Ari-dotle requires that it Ihouid be feigned not hifto- rical, he muft not be underftood fo ftri5tly, as if he meant to exclude all fubjedts which have any founda- tion in truth. For fuch exclufion would both be un-^ rcafonable in itfelf; and what is more, would be contrary to the practice of Homer, who is known to have founded his Iliad on iiifiorical fads concerning the war of Troy, which v,",s famous throughout all Greece. Ariftotle means no more than that it is the bufmefs of a poet not to be a mere annalift .of facts, but to cmbellifli truth with beautiful, probable, and
ufeful
ON THE POEMS OF 03SIAN. 2 2^3
ufeful fictions ; to copy nature, as he himfclf cxplaitis it, like painters, who preferve a hkenefs, bur exhibit their objects more grand and beautiful than they sre in reality. That Oliian has to'lowed tiiis courfe, and building upon true hillory, has iiifficiently adoniL-d it with poetical tiction tor aograndizing h;s characrcis and fads, will not, I believe, be queitioned by uioit readers. At the fame lime, tlie foundation wliich thoie tads and charaiters had in truth, and the (liare which the poet himfelt had in the traniactions which he records, muft be conficered as no Ibiail advantage to his work. For truth makes an imprcirion on tlie mind far beyond any fiction; and no man, let his imagination be ever lb llrong, i elates any events lb feelingly as thofe in which he has been intcrelied j paints any fcene lb naturally as one which he has ken; or draws any characieis in fuch (hong colours as thofe which he b.as perfonaily known, it is con- fidered as an advantage of the epic fubjed to be ta>. ken from a period fo dillant, as by being involved in the darknefs of tradition, may give licence to fable. Though Oflian's fubject may at iirft view appear unfavourable in this refpcd, as being taken from his own times, yet when we refled that he lived to an extreme old age; that he relates what had been tranf- aded in another country, at the diftance of many years, and after all that race of men who had been the a6iors were gone off the ftage .; we Ihall find tlie objection in a great meafure obviated. In fo rude an age, when no written records were known, when tradition was loofe, and accuracy of any kind little attended to, what was great and heroic in one ge- neraiioa, eafily ripened into the marvellous in the next.
The natural rcprefentation of human characters in an epic poem is highly effential to its merit : And in refpedl of this there can be no doubt of Homer's ex- celling all the heroic poets y?ho have ever wrote.
But
224 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
But though Offian be much inferior to Homer In this article, he will be found to be equal at leait, if not fuperior to Virgil; and has indeed given all the difplay of human nature which the fimple occur- rences of his times could be t>:pe>Sed to furnifh. No dead uniformity of chara^Ster prevails in Fingal; but oft the contrary, the principal characters are not only clearly diilinguiihed, but fomecimes artfully contrall- ed lb as to iliuflrate each other. Oflian's heroes, are, like Homer's, all brave ; but their bravery, like thofe of Homer's, too, is of different kinds. For inftancej the prudent, the fedate, the modeft and circumfpe^'^t Connal, is finely oppofed to the prefumptuous, ralli, overbearing, but gallant and generous Calmar. Cal- mar hurries CuchuJlin into action by his temerity ; and when he kts the bad effe^^ of his counfels, he will not furvivc the difgrace. Connal, like another Ulyffes, attends Cuchullin to his retreat, counfels, and comforts him under his misfortune. 'I'he fierce, the proud, and high-fpirited Swaran is admirably contrafted with the calm, the moderate, and generous Fingal. The charader of Oicar is a favourite one throughout the whole poems. The amiable warmth of the young warrior ; his eager impetuofity in the day of action; his paflion for fame; his fubmilfion to his father; liis tendernefs for Alalvina; are the ftrokes of a maflerly pencil; the ftrokes are few; but it is the hand of nature, and attracts the heart. Of- fian's own character, the old man, the hero, and thg bard, all in one, prefents to us, through the whole work, a moll refpedable and venerable figure, v^hich we always contemplate with pleafure. Cuchullin is a hero of the higheft clafs ; daring, magnanimous, and exqulfitely feniible to honour. VVe become at- tached to his intereft, and are deeply touched with his diftrefs; and after the admiration raifed for him ia the firft part of the poem, it is a ftrong proof of Of- ' iian's mafterly genius that he durit adventure to pro- dues- i
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 225
duce to u^ another hero, compared with whom, even the great Ciichuilin, fiiould be only an inferior per- fonage; and who fhould rife as far above him, as Cuciiullin rifes above the reft.
Here, indeed, in the character and defcription of Fingal, Olnan triumphs almoft unrivalled : For vse may boldly defy all antiquity to (hew us any hero equal to Finga!. Homer's Hedtor poffcfles feveral great and amiable qualities ; but Heiior is a feconda- ry pcrfonage in the Iliad, not the hero ol the work. We fee him only occafionally ; we know much lefs of him than we 60 of Fingal ; wh.o riot only in this epic poem, but in Temora, and throughout the refi: of^ QiTian's works, is prcfented in all that variety of lights, which give the full difplay of a character. And though He>5ior faithfully difcharges his duty to his country, his friends, and his family, he is tinc- tured, however, with a degree of t!ie fame favage fe- rocity, which prevails among all the Homeric heroes. For we find him iPifuhing over the fallen Pa'rocUis, with the nioft cruel taunts, and ttlling him, when he lies in the agony of death, that Achilles cannot help him now ; and that in a fliort time his body, ftripped naked, and deprived of funeral honours, Ihali be de- voured by the vultures*. Whereas, in the charac- ter of Fingal, concur almoft all the qualities that can ennoble human nature ; that can either make us ad- mire the hero, or love the man. He is not only un- conquerable in war, but he makes his people happy by iiis wifdom in the days of peace. He is truly the father of his people. He is known by the epithet of " Fingal of ihc mildeft look;" and diftinguilhed oa every occafion, by humanity and generofity. He is merciful to \\\s foes'f \ full of afteciion to his chil- dren ;
» l!i-.,d ir,. S3-. 11. 17. 127.
' V\'hc!i he com ma lid J his Ions, after Swaran is taken
prifoijt:r,
226 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
dren; full of concern about friends; and never men—| tions Agandecca, his firft love, without the utmoft! tendernefs. He is the univerfal protector of the dif- treffed i " None ever went fad from Fingal." — " O "• Ofcar ! bend the flrong in arms ; but fpare the feeble *' hand. Be thou a rtream of many tides againll the " foes of thy people ; but hke the gale that moves t " the giafs, to thofe who afk thine aid. So Tren- i " mor hved; fuch Tratlial wasj and fuch has Fin- *' gal been. My arin was the fupport of the in- "^' jured ; the weak refted behind the lightning of ^*' my fteel."
Thefe were the maxims of true heroifm, to which he formed his grandfon. His fame is reprefen- ted as every where fpread ; the greateft heroes ac- knowledge his fuperiority ; his enemies tremble at his name; and the higheft encomium that can be beftowed on one whom the poet would mofl exalt, is to fay, that his foul was like the foul of 1 Ingai.
To do juilice to the poet's merit, in fupporting fuch a charader as this, I muft obferve, what is not commonly attended to, that there is no part of poeti- cal execution more difficult, than to draw a perfect 1 charadfer in fuch a manner, as to render it dirtincff and I affed ing to the rnind. Some ftrokes of human imper- ■ fedtion and frailty, are what ufually give us the mollt clear view, and the moli fenlible impreffion of a i
character ;
prifoner, to " purfuc the reft of Lochlin, over the heatli i " of Lena ; that no veffel may hereafter bound on the *•' dark -rolling waves of laiftorc;" he means not alTur.d- iy, as fome have mifieprefented him, to order a general 1 i'iaughter of the foes, and to prevent their faving tliem- felves by fliglu ; but, like a wile general, lie com-^ mauds his chiefs to render the viftory complete, by a to- tal rout of the enemy ; that they might adventure no- | more for the futurcj to ftt out any fleet againft him or hi& allies.
ON THE POEMS OF 05SIA>r, 227
-c'naracter ; becaufe they prefent to us a man, fuch as we have feen ; they recal known features of human nature. When poets attempt to go beyond this range, and defcribe a fauhlefs hero, they, for the moft part, fet before us, a fort of vague undillinguifh- able chara6ler, fuch as the imagination cannot lay hold of, or realize to itfelf, as the obje6l of affecliion. We know how much Virgil has failed in this parti- cular. His perfect hero, ^neas, is an unanimated, infipid perfonagc, whom we may pretend to admire, but whom no one can heartily love. But what Vir- gil has failed in, Oflian, to our aftonidiment, has fuccefsfully executed. His Fingal, though exhibited without any of the common human failings, is ne- verthelefs a real man ; a character which touches and inrerefts ever reader. To this it has much contribu- ted, that the poet has rcprefented him as an old man; and by this has gained the advantage of throwing a- round him a great many circumflanccs, peculiar to that age, which paint him to the fancy in a more di- ftincl light. He is furrounded with his family ; he inftruiSts his children in the principles of virtue ; he is narrative of his part exploits ; he is venerable with the gray locks of age ; he is frequently difpofed to moralize, like an old man, on human vanity, and the profpeiSt of death. There is more art, at leaft more felicity, in this, than may at firft be imagined. For youth and old age, are the two Hates of human life, capable of being placed in the moft picturefque lights. Middle age is more general and vague; and has fewer circumftances peculiar to the idea of it. And when any object is in a fituation, that admits it to be rendered particular, and to be clothed with a variety of circumftances, it always ftands out more clear and full in poetical defcription.
Befides human perfonages, divine or fupernatural agents are often introduced into epic poetry ; form- ing what is called the machinery of it j which moft
critics
228 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
critics hold to be an eflential part. The man^ellous, it muft be admitted, has always a great charm for the bulk of readers. It gratifies the imagination, and affords room for ftriking and fubllme defcription. No wonder, therefore, that all poets fliould have a firong propenfity towards it. But I muft obferve, that notiiing is more difficult, than to adjuft properly the marvellous with the probable. If a poet facrifice probability, and fill his work with extravagant fuper- natural fcenes, he fpreads over it an appearance of romance and childilh fiction; he tranfports his read- ers from this world, into a phantaftick, vifionary re- gion ; and lofes that weight and dignity which fliould reign in epic poetry. No work, from which proba- bility is altogether banilhed, can make a Jailing oi deep impreflion. Human actions and manners, arc always the mod interefting objecls which can be pre- sented to a human mind. AH machinery, there- fore, is faulty which withdraws thefe too much from view; or obfcures them under a cloud of incred.bk fictions. Eefides being temperately employed, ma- chinery ought always to have feme foundation in po. pular belief. A poet is by no means at libei'ty to in- vent what fyftem of the marvellous he pleafes : He mull avail himfelf either of the religious faith, or tht fuperftitious credulity of .the country wherein ht lives; fo as to give an air of probablity to events; which are moft contrary to the common courfe o; nature
In thefe refpecls, Oflian appears to me to hav( been remarkably happy. He has indeed followed th< fame courfe with Homer. For it is perfectly abfurtr to imagine, as fome critics have done, that Homer'.' mythology was invented by him, in confequence o profound refleclions on the benefit it would yield ti poetry. Homer was no fuch refining genius. H« found the traditionary flories on which he built hi Iliad, mingled with the popular legends, concernini
th
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 229
the intervention of the gods ; and he adopted thefe, becaufe they amufed the fancy. Cffian, in like tnan- ner, found the tales of his country fuli of ghofts and fpirits: It is likely he believed them himfelf; and he introduced them, becaufe they gave his poems that folemn and marvellous caft, which fuited his genius. 7"his was the only machinery he could employ with propriety ; becaufe it was the only intervention of fupernatu^al beings, which agreed with the common belief of the country. It was happy; becaufe it did not interfere in the leaft, with the proper difplay of human characters and ailions ; becaufe it had lefs of the incredible, than mofl: other kiiids of poetical machinery; and becaufe it ferved to diverufy the fcene, and to heigh.ten the fubjecf by an awful gran- deur, which is the great defign of machinery.
As Cflian's inythology is peculiar to himfelf, and makes a confiderable figure in his other poems, as well as in Fingal, it may be proper to make fome obfervations on it, independent of.its fubferviency to epic compofition. It turns for the mcl^ part on tiie appearances of departed fpirlis. Thefe, confonantly to the notions of every rude age, are reprefented not as purely immaterial, but as thin airy forms, which can be vifib.'e or invifible at pleafure ; their voice is feeble ; their arm is weak : but they are endowed ^with knowledge, ignore than human. In a feparate ftate, they retain the fame difpofitions which anima- ted them in this life. They ride on the wind ? they bend their airy bows; and purfue deer formed of clouds. The ghofts of departed bards continue to fing. The ghofls of departed heroes frequent the fields of their former tame. " They reft together in " their caves, and talk of mortal men. Their fongs " are of other worlds. They come fometimes to '" the ear of reft, and raife their feeble voice." All this prefents to us much the fame fet of ide,as, con- cerning fpirits, as we find in the eleventh book of the Odyfley, where Ulyfles vifits the regions of the Vol. II. U dead:
230 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
dead: And in the twenty-third book, of the Iliad, tlie ghcft c( Patroclus, after appearing to AchilJes, vanilhesprecifely like one of Offian's, emitting a fhrillj feeble, cry, and melting away like fmoke.
But though Homer's and Offian's ideas concern- ine ghods were of the fame nature, we cannot but obferve, that Oflian's ghofts are drawn with much fironger and livelier colours than thofe of Homer. Ofilan defcribes ghofis with all the particularity of one who had ken and converfed with them, and whofe imagination was full of the impreffion they liad left upon it. He calls up thofe awful and tremend- ous ideas which the
Simulacra modls pallentia miris,
src fitted to ralfe in the human mind ; and which, in •ShakcTpeare's Hyle, " Harrow up the foul." Cru- gal's ghofl, in particular, in the beginning of the fe- cond book of Fingal, may vie with any appearance of this kind, uei'cribed by any epic or tragic poet wliatever. Moft poets would have contented them- felves with telling us, that he refemWed, in every particular, the living Crugal ; that liis form and drefs v.cre the fame, only his face more pale and fad; and that lie bore tlie mark of the wound by which he kH. But Cffian fets before our eyes a fpirit from f e nvifible world, diftinguifhed by all thofe features, uhich a ilrong aflonifhed imagination would give to gliofl:. " A dark red ftrcam of fire comes do'^n " from the hill. Crugal fat upon the beam ; he that " lately fell by the hand of Swaran, ftriving in the " battle of heroes. His face is like the beam of the '■'■ fetting moon. His robes are of the clouds of the " hill. His e) es are like two decaying fiames. Dark •^ is the wound of Jiis brenf}-. The flars dim-twink- " led through his form ; and his voice was like " the found of a difiant ftream." The circurn- ftance <;f the (lars being beheld, " Dim-twinkling
" through
I
ON THE rOEMS OF CSSIANT. 23I
" tlirough his form," is wonderfully piiSturefqvie ; and conveys the moft lively impreirion of his thin and Ihadowy fubllance. The attitude in which he is af- terwards placed, and the fpeech put into his mouth, are full of th.at foleinn and awful fublimity, which fuits the fubjed. " Dim, and in tears, he Hood and " llietched his pale hand over the hero. Faintly he '^ raifed his feeble voice, like the gale of the reedy '' Lego. My ghoft, O Conna! ! is on my native " hills ; but my corle is on the fands of Ullin. Tiiou " [halt never talk with Crugal, or find his lone fteps " in tne heath. I am ligfit as the blad of Cromli ; *' and I move like the lliadow of mill. Connal, fon " of Colgar ! I fee the dark cloud of death. It hovers *' over the plains of Leno. The fons of green Erin *' ftiall fall. Remove from the fi.^ld of ghoRs. Lik2 *' the darkened moon, he retired in the midft of the " Vvhiftling blaft."
Several other sppecrances of fpirlts mig'u be point- ed our, as among the mofl fublime paffages of Of- fian's poetry. The circumilanccs of them are con- liderably diverfified; and the fcenery ahvays fuited to the occahon. " Ofcar flowly afcends the hill. The '•■ iDeteors of niglu fct on the heath before him. A " dilbnt torrent faintly roars. Unfiequent blafts " rufli through aged oaks. The half-enlig!itened " moon finks dim and red behind her hill. Feeble " voices are heard on the heath. Ofcar drew his *' fvvord." Nothing can prepare the fancy more happily for the awful fcene that is to follow: — '*• Irenmor caine from his hill, at the voice of h'.s " mighty fon. A cloud, like the lleed of the Ifranger, " fupported his airy limbs. His robe is of the inirt of " Leno, tliat brings death to the people. His fvvord " is a green meteor, half-extinguifhed. His face is '■' without form, and dark, fie fighed thrice over " the hero : And thrice, the winds of the night roar- " ed around. Many were his \vo:ds to Ofcar. He U 3. llowly.
232 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" Howly vanifhed like a mift that melts on the funny '*' hill." 7-0 appearances of this kind, we can find no parallel among the Greek or Roman poets. They bring to mind that noble defcription in the book of Job : " In tbioughts from the vifions of the niglif, '■• when deep fltep fullctli on men, fear came upon " me, and trembling, which made all my bones to, " (hake. Then 2 fpirit pafied before my face. Thej «' hair of my fleOi ftocd up. Jt flood fl'll ; but li_ " could not difcern the form thereof. An imago " was before mine eyes. There was filence ; and f »^ heard a voice— Shall mortal man be more juft thart «' God* ?"
As Ofiian's fupernatural beings are defcribed with E furprifing force of imagination, fo they are intro- tluced with propriety. We have only three ghofts in Fingal ; That of Crugal, which comes to warn the hoft of impending dcftrudion, and to advife them to five themfelves by retreat ; that of Evcrallin, the /pcufe of Oflian, which calls him to rifa and refcua their fon from danger; and that of Agandecca, which, juft before the hd engagement with Sv/aran, moves Fingal to pity, by mourning for the approaching de- firuition of her kinfmen and people. In the other poems, ghofts fometim.es appear when invoked to fore- tel futurity; frequently, according to the notions of thcfe times, they come as forerunners of misfortune or death, to thofe whom they vifit ; fometimes they in- form their friends at a dillance, of their own death ; and fometimes they are introduced to heighten the fcenery on fome great and folemn occafion. " A " hundred oaks burn to the wind ; and faint light " gleams over the heath. T"he ghofts of Ardven pafs ^'- through the beam ; and fliew their dim an<l diilant " forms. C'omala is half-unfeen on her meteor; and " Hidallan is fullen and dim." " The awful faces
"of
* Job Iv. 13—17
OK THE rOEMS OF OSSIAN, 233
" of Other limes, looked from the clouds of Croou." " Fercuthl I faw the ghoft of night. Silent he flood " on that bank ; iiis robe of miit flew on the viind. " 1 could be'iold his tears. An aged i«3n he feeo^ed, *' and full of thought."
The ghofls of ftrangers mingle not with thofe of the natives. " She is feen; but not like the daugh- '' ters of the hill. Her robes are from the Grangers " land; and ihe is ilill alone." VVh.en the ghoit of one whom we had formerly known is introduced, the propriety of the living character is Hill preferved. This is remarkable in the appearance of Cahviar's ghofl, in the poem intitled, " The death of Cuchul- " lin." He feems to forebode CuchuUin's death, and to beckon him to his cave. Cuchuilin re- proaches^ him for fuppofing that he could be intimi- ^ dated by fuch prognoftics. " Why doll thou bend *' thy dark eyes on me, ghofi: of the car-borne Cal- " mar ! Would'ft thou frighten me, O Alatha's fon ! " from the battles of Cormac ^ Thy hand was not " feeble in war ; neither w-as thy voice for peace. " How art thou changed, chief of Lara ! if now thou " doil advife to fly ! Retire thou to thy cave : Thou "■ art not Calmar's ghoft : He delighted in battle ; and " his arm was like the thunder of heaven." Calmar makes no return to this Teeming reproack : But " He " retired in his blaft with joy ; for he had heard the " voice of his praife." This is precifely the ghofl of Achilles in Homer; who, notvvithftanding all tlie diflatisfacfion he exprefTcs with his flate in the region of the dead, as foon as he had heard his fon Neopto- lemus praifed for his gallant behaviour, ftrode away with filent joy to rejoin the red of the fliades*.
It is a great advantage of Ofiian's mythology, that it is not local and temporary, l:ke that of moft other ancient poets ; which of courfe is apt to feem to ridi- culous, afttr the fuperftitions have paffed away on U 3 waich
*-OJyir. Lib. n.
234 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
which it was founded, Ofilan's mythology is, to fpeak. fo, tlie mythology of human nature ; for it is founded on what has been the popular belief, in all ages and countries, and under all forms of religion, concerning the appearances of departed fpirits. Ho- ji-er's machinery is always lively and amufingj but far from being always fupported with proper dignity. The indecent fquabbles among his gods, furely do no lionour to epic poetry. Whereas OfFian's machine- ry has dignity upon all occafions. It is indeed a dig- nity of the dark and awful kind ; but this is proper : becaufe coincident with the ftrain and fpirit of the poet- ry. A light and gav mythology, Ike Homer's, would have been perfedly unfuitable to the fubje61s on which Offian's genius was employed. But though his uiachinery be always folemn, it is not, however, iihvays dreary or difmal j it is enlivened as much as the fubjedl would permit, by tliofe pleafant and beau- tiful appearances, which he fometimes introduces, of the fpirits cf the hill. Thefe are gentle fpiiits; de- fcending on fun-beams j fair-moving on the plain j their forms white and bright ; tlieir voices fweet ; zrni their vifits to men propitious. The gresteft praife that can be given to the beauty of a living wo- meii) is to fay, " She is fair as ihe ghoftof the hill; *• when it moves in a fun- beam at noon, over the filence " of Morven." — "The hunter fhall hear my voice *' from his booth. He fnall fear, but love my voice. " For fweet fhall my voice be for my friends; fof " pleafant were they to me."
Befides ghofts, or the fpirits of departed men, we > find in Ofiian fome inftances of other kinds of ma- chinery. Spirits of a fuperior nature to gliofls are fometimes alluded to, which have power to embroil the deep ; to call forth winds and ftorms, and pour them on the land of the Granger; to overturn forefts, and to lend death among the people. We have pro- digies tooj a fhower of blood ^ and when fome dif-
fafter
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 235
fafter is befalling at a diftance, the found of death heard on the firings of Offian's harp : a!! perfectly confonant, not only to the pecuhar ideas of north- ern nations, but to the general current of a fu- perftitious imagination in all countries. The de- fcription of Fingal's airy hall, in the poem call- ed Uerrathon, and of the afcent of Malvina in- to it, deferves particular notice, as remarkably no- ble and magnificient. But above all, the engage- ment of Fingal with the fpirit of Loda, in Carric- thura, cannot be mentioned without admiration. I forbear tranfcribing the paflage. as it muft have drawn the attention of every one who has read the works of OfTian. The undaunted cOurage of Fin- gal, oppofed to all tlie, terrors of the Scandinavian god ; the appearance and the fpeech of that awful fpirit; the v-found which he receives, and the fliritk which he fends forth, " as rolled ihto himfelf, he rofe upon the wind;" are full of the moft amazing and terrible majefty. I knowr no paflage more fubJinie in the writings of any uninlpired author. The fiction is calculated to aggrandize the hero; which it does to a high degree ; nor is it fo unnatural or wild a fiction, as might at firft be thought. According to the no- tions of thofe times, fupernatural beings were mate- rial, and confequently, vulnerable. The fpirit of Loda was not acknowledged as a deity by Fingal ; he did not worfhip at the ftone of his power; he plainly confidered him as the god of his enemies only; as a local deity, whofe dominion extended no farther than to the regions where he was worlhiped ; who had, therefore, no title to threaten him, and no claim to his fubmiflion. We know there are poetical prece- dents of great authority, for fidions fully as extra- vagant ; and if Homer be forgiven for making Dio- med attack and wound in battle, the gods vvhomi that chief himfelf worlhipped, Offian furely is par- donable
230 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
donable for making his hero fuperior to the god of 3 foreign territory*.
Notwithftanding the poetical advantages wliich I have afcribed to Offian's machinery, 1 acknowledge it would have been. much more beautiful and perfect, had the autiior difcovered fome knowledge of a fu- preme being. Although his filence on this head has been accounted for by the learned and ingenious tranflator in a very probable manner, yet flill it mufl: be held a confiderable difadvantage to the poet. ry. For tiie moft auguft and lofty ideas that caa embelliOi poetry are derived from the belief of a di- vine adminiilracion of the univerfe: And hence the invocation of a fupreme Being, or at lealt of fome fu. perior powers who are conceived as prefiding over
humaa
* Thr fccne of this encounter of Fingal with the fplrit of Loda is laid in Iniftore or the iflanJs of Orkney ; and in the dcf ription of Fingal's landing there, it is faid, " A rock bends along the coad with all it-: echoing wood." On " the top is the circle of Loda, with the moffy ftons of power." In confin-nation of Offian's topography, it is proper to acquaint the reader, that in thefe lllands, as I have been well informed, there are many pillars, and cir-^ cles of ftones, flill remaining, known by the name of the (tones and circles of Loda, or Lcden ; to which fome degree of fuperftitious regard is annexed to this day. Thcfe Idands, until the year 1468, made a part of the Danifli dominions. Their ancient language, of which there are yet fome re- mains among the natives, is called the Norfe ; and is a dialeft, not of the Celtic, but ot the Scandinavian tongue. 1"he inanners and the fupcrftitions of the inhabitants, arc quite diflinft from thofe of the Highlands and weftern.i illes of Scotland. Their ancient fongs too, are of a difFe-^- rent ftrain and charafter, turning upon magical incanta-. tions and evocations from the dead, which were the fa-- vourite fubjccls of the old Kunic poetry. They have many traditions among them of wars in former times wltttt theiahabitants of the wefisrn iflands. .
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 237
human affairs, the folemnities of religious worfhip, prayers preferred, and affiftance implored on critical occafions, appear with great dignity in the works of al- moftall poets as chief ornaments of their compofitions. The abfence of all fuch religious ideas from Offian's poetry, is a fenfible blank in it: the more to be regret- ted, as we can eafily imagine what an ilkiftrious figure they would have made under the management of fuch a genius as his ; and how finely they would have been adapted to many fituations which occur in his works.
After fo particular an examination of Fingal, it were needlefs to enter into as full a difcuffion of the conduit of Temora, the other epic poem. Many of the the fame obfervations, efpecially with regard to the great charaderiftics of heroic poetry, apply to both. The high merit, however, of Temora, re- quires that we fliould not pafs it by without fome re- marks.
The fcene of Temora, as of Fingal, is laid in Ire- land ; and the adion is of a pofterior date. The fubjedl is, an expedition of the hero, to dethrone and punifli a bloody ufurper, and to reftore the pof- feiTion of the kingdom to the pofterit^ of the lawful prince; an undertaking worthy of the juftice and he- roifm of the great p'ingal. The action is one and complete. The poem opens with the defcent of Fingal on the coaft, and the confultation held among the chiefs of the enemy. The murder of the young prince Cormac, which was the caufe of the war, be- ing antecedent to the epic aclion, is introduced with great propriety as an epifode in the firlT: book. In the progrefs of the poem, three battles are defcnbed, which rife in their importance above one another; the fuccefs is various, and the iiTue for fome time doubtful; till at kil, Fingal brought into diilrefsj.by the wound of his great general Gaul, and the death of his fen Filkn, alTumes the command himfelf, and
having
238 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
having flain the Irifh king in fingle combat, rel^ores the rightful heir to his throne.
Temora has perhaps lefs lire than the ot!ier ep'c poem; but in return it has more variety, more ten-, dernefs, and more magnificence. The reigning idea, fo often prefented to us of " Fingal in the laft of his *' fields," is venerable and afFecling; nor could any more noble conclufion be thought of, than the aged hero, after fo many fuccefsful atchievements, taking his leave of battles, and with all the folemnities of thofe times refigning his fpear to his fon. The events are lefs crowded in Temora than in Fingal ; aSions and characters are more particularly difplay- ed ; we are let into the tranfadtions of both hofts ; and informed of the adventures of the night as well as of the day. The ftill pathetic, and the romantic fcenery of feveral of the night adventures, fo remark- ably fuited to Oflian's genius, occafion a fine diver- fity in the poem ; and are happily contraded with the.: military operations of the day.
In moft of our author's poems, the horrors ofi war are foftened by intermixed ksnes of love and frieadlhip. In Fingal, thefe are introduced as epi-| fodes ; in Temora, we have an incident of this na- ture wrought into the body of the piece; in the ad- venture of Cathmor and Sulmal'a. This forms one( of the moft confpicuous beauties of that poem. The diftrefs of Sumalla, difguifed and unknown among] ftrangers, her tender and anxious concern for the fafety of Cathmor, her dream and her melting re- membrance of the land of her fathers; Carhmor'sj emotion when he firft difcovers her, his ftruggles to conceal and fupprefs his palSon, lefl it (hould un^j man him in the midft of war, though " his fouli " poured forth in fecret, when he beheld her fearful "eye;" and the laft interview between them, when overcome by her tcndernefs, he lets her know he had difcovered her, and ccrielfes his paffion ; are all
wrouslit
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 239
wrought up with the mofl exquiiite fenfibility and de- licacy.
Belides the charaders whicli appeared in Fingal, feveral new ones are here introduced ; and though, as they are all the charaders of warriors, bravery is the predominant feature, they are neverthelefs diver- fified in a fenfible and flriking manner. Foldath, for inftance, the general of Cathmor, exhibits the perfed pidure of a favage chieftain : Bold, and da- ring, but prefumptuous, cruel, and overbearing. He isdiftinguifhed, on liis firft appearance, as the friend of the tyrant Cairbar ; " His ftride h.is haughty; his red " eye rolls in wrath." In his perfon and whole de- portment, he is contrafted with the mild and wife Hidalla, another leader of the fame army, on whofe humanity and gentlcnefs he looks with great con- tempt. Ke profefil'dly delights in ftrife and blood. He infuks over the fallen. He is imperious in his counfels, and factious v.'hen they are not followed. He is unrelenting in all his fchemes of revenge, even to the length of denying the funeral fong to the dead ; which, from the injury thereby done to their ghofts, was in thofe days confidered as the greatert barbarity. Fierce to the iaft, he comforts himfelf in his dying moments with thinking that his ghofi ihall often leave irs blaft to rejoice over the graves of thofe he had fiain; Yet Ofliari, ever prone to the pathetic, has contrived to throw into his account of the death, even of this man, fome tender circumftanccs ; by the moving de- fcription of his daughter, Dardulena, the lafl of his race.
The charader of Foldath tends much to exalt that of Cathmor, the chief commander, which is diftin- gi iilied by the moft humane virtues. He abhors all fraud and cruelty, is famous for his hofpitality to flrangers ; open to every generous fcatiment, and to every foft and compafTionate feeling. He is fo amia- ble as to divide the reader's attachment between him
and
240 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
and the hero of the poem ; though our author has artfully managed it fo, as to make Cathmor hinifelf indirectly acknowledge Fingal's fuperiority, and to appear fomewhat apprehenfive of the event, af- ter the death of Fillan, which he knew would call forth Fingal in all his might. It is very remarkable, that ahhough Ofllan has introduced into his poems three coulplete heroes, Cuchullin, Cathmor, and Fingal, he has, however, fenfibly dif- tinguiflied each of their charafters. Cuchullm is particularly honourable ; Cathmor particularly amia- ble ; fingal wife and great, retaining, an afcen- dant peculiar to himfelf in whatever light he is viewed.
But the favourite figure in Temora, and the one moft highly finifhed, is Fillan. His charadler is of that fort, for which Oflian rtiews a particular fond- nefs; an eager fervant young warrior, fired with all the impatient cnthufiafm for military glory, peculiar to that time of life. He had Sketched this in the de- fcription of his own fon Ofcar; bur as he has extended it more fully in Fillan, and as the charader is fo con- fonant to the epic (train, though, fo far as I remem- ber, not placed in fuch a confpicuous light by any other epic poet, it may be worth while to attend little to OiTian's management of it in this inftance.
Fillan was the youngeft of all the fons of Fingal j younger, it is plain, than his nephew Ofcar, by whofs fame and great deeds in war, we may naturally fup-^ pofe his ambition to have been highly ftimulatedr Withal, as he is younger, he is defcribed as morei rafh and fiery. His firft appearance is foon after Of- car's death, when he was employed to watch thej motions of the foe by night. In a converfation with? his brother Offian, on that occsfion, we learn that it^ was not long fince he began to lift the fpear. " FewJ *' are the marks of my fword in battle ; but my foul " is fire." He is with fome difficulty reftraine'd
byi
ON THE POEMS OF CSSIAN. 24I
ty Offian from going to attack the enemy ; and comphins to him, that his father had never allowed "him any opportunity of fignalizing his valour. " The " king hath not remarked my fword; I go forth with " the crowd; i return without my fame." Soon after, when Fingal, according to cufiom, was to ap- point one of his chiefs to command the army, and each was ftanding forth, and putting in his claim to this honour, Fillan is prefented in the following mod piSturefque and natural attitude. " On his fpear *' ftood the fon of Clatho, in the wandering of h's " locks. Thrice he raifed his eyes to Fingal : his " voice thrice failed him as he fpoke. Fillan could " not boaft of battles ; at once he ftrode away. Bent " over a dirtant ftream he Hood ; the tear hung in " his eye. He (Iruck, at times, the thiftle's head, " with his inverted fpear." No lefs natural and beautiful is the defcription of Fingal's paternal emo- tion on this occafion. " Nor is he unfeen of Fin- " gal. Sice long he beheld his fon. He beh.eld him " with burfting joy. He hid the big tear with his " locks, and turned amidft his crowded foul." The command, for that day, being given to Gaul, Fillan rufiies amidil the thickeft of the foe, faves Gaul's life, who is wounded by a random arrow, and dif- ting'jidies himfelf fo in battle, that " the days of old '." return on Fingal's mind, as he beholds the re- " nown of his fon. As the fun rejoices from the " cloud, over the tree his beams have raifed, whillt '^ it Ihakes its lonely head on the heath, Co joyful is ''■ the king over Fillan." Sedate, however, and wife, he mixes the praife which he beflows on him with fome reprehenfion of his radmefs, '' Aly fon, I faw thy deeds, snd my foul was gbd. Thou art brave, " fon of Clatho, but headlong in the flrife. So did " not Fingal advance, though he never feared a foe. ." Let thy people be a ridge behind thee; they are " thy ftrength in the field. Then (halt thou be Vol. h. X " long
242 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" long renowned, and behold ilie tombs of liiy iz- " thers.-"'
On the next day, the greateft and tl^.e laft of Fij- ian's Jife, tiie charge is committed to him of lead ng; on the heft ta battle. Fingal's fpeech to his troopsi on this occafion is full of noble fentiment; and whetei lie recotTimends his fon to their care, extremely^ touching. " A young beam is before you; few are ^' his fteps to war. They are few, but he is valiant; " defend my dark-haired i'on. Bring him back with, " joy; hereafter he may ftand alone. His form is " like^ his fatliers ; his foul is a flame of their fiie.'" Wh.en the battle begins, the poet puts forth his ilrength to defcribe the exploits of the young hero ; who, at laft encountering and killing with his own hand Foldath tlie cppcfite general, attains the pin- nacle of glory. In what follows, wiien the fate of Fillan is drawing near, Oflian, if any where, ex- cels hlmftlf. Foldath being Hain, and a general rout h'-gun, there was no refource left to the er.eniy but 'n tlie great Cathmor liimfe'f, who in this extremity de- fceiids from tlie hiil, where, according to the cuf- tom of thofe princes, he furveyed the battle. Ob- kvve h.ow this critical event is wrought up by the poet. " Wide fprcad.ng over echoing Lubar, the flight of '^ Eulga is rolled along. Fillan hung forward on *' their fteps; and ftrewed the heath with dead. " Fingal rejoiced over his fon. Blue-(hielded Cath- " rnor rofe. Son of Alpin, bring the harp ! Givej " Fiilan's praife to the wind ; raife high his praife in " my hall, while yet he (hines in war. Leave blue- " eyed Clatho ! leave thy hall ; behold that early " beatn of thine! The hoft is withered in its courle.'
" No farther look it is dark light-treir.blli.!
*' from the harp, ftrike virgins! ftrike tlie found.' The fudden interruption, and fufpenfe of the narra- tion on Cathmor's rifing from his hill, the abrupt burfting into the praife of F:llan, :;nd tl^e paiTionate
spoftrophe
ox THE POEMS CF OSSIAN. 2^J
spoSrophe to his mother Clatlio, are adinirable ef- forts of poetica! art, in order to interefl: us in Fillan's danger; and the whole is heightened by the immc- dia-ely following fimile, one of the mofl nnngnificent and fublime that is to be met with in any poet, and which, if it had been found in Flomer, would have been the frequent fubje^ of admiration to critics ; " Fillan is like a fpirit of heaven, tiiat dcfcends *' from th.e fkirt of his blafl:. 'J he troubled ocean " feels liis fleps, as he ftrides from wave to wave. " His path kirxlles behind him ; illands ihake tl)cir' I; " heads on the heaving feas."
} But the poet's art is not yet exhaufled. The full of ■r. this noble young warrior, or, in Offian's ftyle, the ' extindion of this beam of heaven, could not be ren- : dered too interefting and affecting. Our attention is ; naturally drawn towards Fingal. Ke beholds from ? his hill the rifing of Cathmor, and tiie danger of his f fon. But what (hall he do ?. " Shall Fingal rife to ;■ " his aid, and take the fword of Luno? What then ^ " fhould become of thy fame, fon of t!ie white-bo- ^ " fomed Clatho? Turn not thine eyes from Fingal, ^ " daugliter of Iniilore! J Ihill not que'ncli thy early ^ " beam. No cloud of mine (hall rife, my fon, upon " thy foul of (ire." !~trugg!ing between concern for the fame, and fear for the faf-ty of bis ton, he with- draws frotTJ the fght of the engagement ; and dif- i patches Oinan in ha(te to the field, wl;h this affec- i tionate and delicate injunflion. " Father of Ofcar!" ; addre(ring hi n by a title wh'ch on tliis occafion l\as i the higheft propriety, " Father of Ofcar! hft the " fpear ; defend the young in arms. But conceal '' thy fteps from Fillan's eyes: Ke muft not know " that I doubt his fieel." OiTnn arrived too late. ". But unwilling to defcribe Fillan vanqtiilhed, the poet fuppreffcs all the circumilances of the combat witli Cat'imor; and only (liews us the dying hero. We ; fee liim animated to the end with the fame martird ' X 2 '•• and
244 ^ CRITICAL DISr-ERTATIOM
and ardent fpirit ? brenthing his lalt in bitter regret for being fo early cut off from tiie field of glory. *' Offian, lay me in that hollow rock. " Raife no " ftone above me ; leaft one fliould afic about my *' fame. I am fallen in the firfl of my fields ; fallen *' without renown. Let thy voice alone, fend joy " to my flying foul. VVliy fliould the bard know " where dwells the early-fallen Fillan r" He who after tracing the circumftances of thisflory, flialldeny tliat our bard is poflefled of high fentiment and high art muft be ftrangely prejudiced indeed. Let him read the ftory of Pallas in Virgil, which is of a funi- lar kind ; and after all the praife he may juftiy beftow on the elegant and finidicd defcripiion of tiiat amia- ble author, let him fay v/hichof the two poets unfold mofl of the human foul. I wave infifting on any more of the particulars in Temora ; as my aim is ratb.er to lead the reader into the genius and fpirit of Ofiian's poetry, than to dwell on all his beauties.
I'he judgment and art difcovered in conducting \v,orks of fuch length as Fingal and Temora, diflin- guifh them from the other poems in this collc6iion. The fmaller pieces, h.owever, contain particular beau-, lies no lefs eminent. They are hifiorical poems, ge- nerally Of the elegiac kind ; and plainly difcover thcmfelves to be the work of the fame autlior. One confiilcnt face of manners is every wliere prefented to us ; one fpirit of poetry reigns; the mailcrly hand cf Ofiian appears througliout ; the fame rapid and animated Ityle : the fame flrong colouring of ima-' ginarion, and tlie fame glowing fennbility of iieart. EeFides the unity which belongs to the compofitions'^ of one man, there is moreover a certain unity of fub- ject which very liappily coaneds ail thefife poems, riicy form the poetical Iiiilory of the age of Fingal. The fame race o? heroes whom we had met with- in the greater poem?, Cuchullin, Ofcar, Connal, and (j3,u1j return again upon the ItagCi and Fingal him-
ON THE POEMS OF CSSIAN. 245
felf is always the principal figure, prefented on every
occafion, with equal magnificence, nay, rifing upoa
us to the h{\. The circumflances of Offian's old
age and blindncfs, his furviving all his friends, and
hTs relating their great exploits to IvTalvina, t!ie
fpoufe or millrefs of his beloved fon Ofcar, furnifh the
: finc-fl: poetical fituatlons that fancy could devife for
( that tender pathetic which reigns in Oflian's poetry.
■ On each of thele poems, there migiit be room for
' feparate obfervations, with regard to the conduil: and
difpofition of the incidents, as well as to the beauty
^ of the defcriptions and fentimtnts. Cartoon is a re-
[■ gular and highly finiflied piece. The main ftory is
properly introtluccd by Cleflamor's relation cf
jrlventure of liis youth ; aiid t'lis introduction is heightened by Fmgal's fong cf mourning over na J in which Oflian, ever fond of doing liono'jr :. s father, has contrived to diilinguilh him, for^ ! .-..g an eminent poet, as well as warrior. Fingal's frg upon this cccaiion, when "his thoufand bards '• ivaned forwards from their feats, to hear the voice " of the king," is inferior to no paffige in the whole book; and with great judgment put in his moutli, us the fe.'ioufnefs, no lefs than the fublimity of the fisain, is peculiarly fuited to the hero's charailer. In ])sr-thula, ?.re aficmbled almoft all the tender images tliat can touch the heart of man; friendship, love, the sffeclions cf parents, fons, and brothers, the dif- trefs cf the aged, and tlie unavailing bravery of the young. The beautiful addrefs to tlie moon, with which the poem opens, and the tranfition from thence to the fuhjen, moft happily prepare the inind for that train of affecting events that is to follow. The flory is regular, dramatic, interefting to the laft. He who can rejd it without emotion may congratulate • hiinfelf, if he pleafes, upon being completely armed • againii fyn?.pathetic forrow. As Fingal had iio occa- fibn of appearing in the a6lion of this poem, Offian •• X 3-. m;-ks;s.
'^4-0 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
makes a very artful tranfition from his narration, to what was palling in the halis of Selma. The found heard there on the llrings of his harp, the concern wliich Fingal fhows on hearing it, and the invoca- tion of the ghofts of- their fathers to receive the he- roes faliing in a diflant land, are introduced with great beauty of imagination to increafe the folemnityy and to diverfify the fcenery of the poem.
Carric-thura is full of the nioft fublime dignity ; and has this advantage of being more cheerful in the fuhjcd, and more happy in the cataftrophe than mofV: of the other poems : lliough tempered at the fame timie with epifodes in that ftrain of tender melancho- ly, which fecms to h.ave been the great delight of Ofiian and the bards of his age. Lathmon is pecu- liarly diftinguKhed by high generofity of fentimenr. This is carried fo far, particularly in the refufal of Gaul, on one fide, to take the advantage of a fleep- ing foe; and cf Lathmon, on the other, to over- power by nuoibevs the two young warriors, as to recal into one's mind the m.anners of chivalry ; feme- lefemblance to which may perhaps be fuggefted by other incidents in this collection of poems. Chival- ry, however, took rife in an age and country too re- mote from thofe of Offian to admit the fufpicion that the one could have borrowed any thing from the other. So far as chivalry liad any real exiftence, the fame military enthufiafm, which gave birth to it in the feudal times, might, in the days of Offian, that is, in the infancy of a rifing ftate, through the ope- ration of the fame caufe, very naturally produce ef- fe£ts cf the fame kind on the minds and manners of, men. So far as chivalry v. as an ideal f}flem exift- ing only in romance, it will not be thought furpri- fmg, when we refleft on the account before given of the Celtic bards, that this imaginary refinement of heroic manners (liould be found among them, as ftnich, at Jeaft, as among the Trohadores^ or ftrolling
Provencal
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAM. 24.7
Provencal bards, in the loth or nth cgnury ; whofe fongs, it is faid, firft gsve vile to thefe roman- tic ideas ot lieroiuTi, which for fo long a time in- chantcd Europe *. Offian's heroes have all the gal- lantry and generofity of thofe fabulous knights, with- out their extravagance ; and his love fcenes have na- tive tendernefs, without any mixture of thofe forced and unnatural conceits which abound in the old ro- mances. The adventures related by our poet v.hich refemble the moft thofe of romance, concern women who f ;l'ow their lovers to war difguifed in the ar- mour of men ; and thefe are fo managed as to pro- duce, in the difcovery, feveral of tlie nioli interefhng fituations ; one beautiful inftance of which may be feen in Carric-thura, and another in Calthon and Colmal.
Oithona prefents a fituation of a different nature. In the abfence of her lover Gaul, (he had been car- ried off and ravilhed by Dunrommath. Gaul dilco- vers the place where llie is kept concealed, and comes to revenge her. The meeting of the two lovers, the fentiments and the behaviour of Oithona on that occafion, are defcribed with fuch tender and exquifite propriety, as does the greateft honour both to the art and to the delicacy of our author : and would have been admired in any poet of the moft refined age. The condudt of Croma muft ftrike every reader as remark- ably judicious and beautiful. We are to be prepared for the death of Malvina, which is related in the fuc- ceeding poem. She is therefore introduced in per- fon ; '' Ihe has heard a voice in a dream ; ftie feels the " fluttering of her foul ;" and in a moft moving la- mentation addrefled to her beloved Ofcar, fhe fings her own Death Song. Nothing could be calculated with more art to foothe and comfort her, than the ftory which Offian relates. In the young and brave
Fovargormo,
* Vidi Hustius de origine fabularum Romanfnfuijm*
24-8- A CRITICAL DISSERTATION,
Fovargormo, another Ofcar is introduced ; his prailes'^ are fung ; and the hsppinefs is fet before her of thofe. who die in their youth, " when their renown is a- " round them ; before the feeble behold thein in the. " hall, and Anile at their trembling hands."
But no where does Oliian's genius appear to great-- er advantage, than in Berrat'ion, which is reckoned- the conclufion cf his fjngs, " i'he laft found of the- " Voice of Cona."
Qiialis olor noto ponturus littore vitr.m, Ingeinit, et niSEflis nnilceiis conccntibLis auras Praeiago queritur venientia funera cantu.
The whole train of ideas is admirably fjited to the fubj3i>. P^very th'ng is full cf that invifible world, into which the aged bard believes himfelf now ready to enter. Tiie airy hall cf f ingal prefents it- felf to his view; " lie fees tlie cloud that fiiali re- " ccive his.glioft; he beholds tlie mill that Hiall form ^ '- his robe when he appears on his iiiJl ;" and all the natural objevSls around him feem to carry the prcfages of death. " The thiftle Oiakes its beard to the. " wind. The flower hangs its heavy head — it feeins " to fay, I am covered with tiie drops of heaven ; '■• the time of my departure is near, and the blaft "- that fiiall fcatter my leaves." Malvlna's death is hinted to him in the moft delicate manner by the fon of Alpin. His la.-nentation over her; her apotheofis, or afcent to the habitation of heroes^ and the intro- du.5tion to the ftory which follows frotn the men- tion which OfTian fuppofes t'le father of Malvina to make cf hi.ii in the hall of fingal, are ail in the high- eft fpirit cf poetry. '' And doft thou remember Of- *' fian, O Tofcar, fon cf Comlach ? The tattles of " our youth were many; our fwords went together *' to the fielJ." Nothing could be more proper thai to end his fongs with recording an exploit of the fa- ther of -that Malvina^ cf whom his heart was nov^ fo
full;
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 249
full ; and who, from firft to laft, had been fuch a fa- vourite object throughout all his poems.
TiiC fcene of moft of Offian's poems is laid in Scotland, or in the coaft of Ireland, oppofite to the territories of Fingal. When the (cene is in Ireland, we perceive no change of manners from thofe of Of- fian's native country. For as Ireland was undoubt- edly peopled with Celtic tribes, the language, cuf- toms, and religion of both nations were the fame. They had been feparared from one another by migra- tion, only a few generations, as it fliould feem, be- fore our poet's age; and they ftill maintained a clofe and frequent intcrcourfe. But when the poet relates the expeditions of any of his heroes to tl.e Scandina-' vian cc:^ft, or to tlie Iflsnds of Orkney, which were tl-.en part of the Scandinavian territory, as lie docs in Carric-thura, Sulma'ia of Lumon, and Caihloda, tr.e cafe is quite altered, Thofe countries were inhabit- ed by nations of the Teutonic defcent, wlio in their manners and re'igious rites differed widely from the Celtae ; and it is curious and remarkable, to find this difference clearly pointed out in the poems of OlTjan. His defcriptions bear the native marks of one who was prefent in the expeditions which he relates, and who defcribes what he had feen witli his own eyes. No fooner are we carried to Lochlin, or the illands^of Iniitore, than we perceive that we are in a foreign region. New objects begin to appear. We meet every where with the itones and circles of Loda, that is, Odin, the great Scandinavian deitv. We meet with the divinations and inchantments, for which it is well known thofe nortiiern nations were early famous. " There, mixed with tlie murmur of wateis, rofe the *' voice of aged men, who called the forms of night " to aid them in their war;" whilfl the Caledonian chiefs who affilfed them, are defcribed as ftanding at a difiance, iieedlefs of their rites. That ferocity of manners which diftinguiihed thofe nations, a!fo be- comes
I
250 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
comes conrpicuous. In the combats of their chiefs- there is a pecuHar favagenefs ; even their women arc bloody and fierce. The fpirir, and the very ideas of Regner Lodbrog, that northern fcal(ier, whom I formerly quoted occur to us again. " The hawks,"' Ollian makes one of the Scandinavian chiefs fay» " rufli from all their winds : they are wont to trace- " my courfe. We rejoiced tliree days above the dead, " and called the hawks of heavefi. They cams" " from all their winds, to feaft on the foes of An- »' nir."
Difmifiing now the feparate confideration of any of our author's works, I proceed to make [ome ob- fervations on his manner of writing, under the gene- ral heads of Defcriptlon, Imagery, and Sentiment.
A poet of original genius is always difhnguillied' by his talent for defcriptlon *. A fecond rate writer difcerns nothing new or peculiar in the obje£l he means" to defcribe. His conceptions of it are vague and loofe ; his expreffions feeble; and of cpurfe the objeil is pre- fented to us indiftiniJtly and as through a cloud. Eut^ a true poet makes us im.agine that we fee it before our eyes : he catches the diftinguifhing features ; lie- gives it t!ie colours of life and reality ; he places it in fuch a light that a pointer could copy after him. This happy talent is chiefly owing to a lively imagi- nation, which firft receives a ftrong impreffion of the- cbje£i:;-and then, by a proper fcleftion of cap'til pic- tarsfque circumftances e nplo^'ed in def,:ribing it, tranfmits that impreffion in its full force to tlie ima^ ginations of others. That Offian poff-'iles this de- Icriptive power in a hii^h degree, we h3ve a clear- proof from tJie effect wh'ch his defcriptions produce upon the imaginations of thofe who read him with any
degree
* See the rules' of poetical defcriptlon excellently ilhi- f'rated by Lord K mies, in his Elements of Critijifm, vol. i chap. 2t» 01" narration and defcrip-.ion.
ON THE rOEIvlS Of OSSlAtV. 25 1
degree of attention and tafle. Few poets are more interefling. We contra>Sl an intimate accjuaintar.ce with his principal heroes. The charadlers, tl.e man- ners, t!ie fate of the country become familiar ; we even thir.k we could draw the figure of his ghofts : In a word, whilft reading him, we are tranfported as into a new region, and dwell among his objeiSls as if they were all real.
It were eafy to point out feveral infiances of exqui- fite painting in the works of our author. Such, for inftance, as the fcenery with which Temcra opens, and the attitude in which Cairbar is there prefented to us ; the defcription of tiie young prince Cormac, in the fame book ; and the ruins of Balclutha in Car- thon. " I have feen the walls of Balclutha, but they *' were defolate. I'he fire had refounded in the halls; " and tlie voice of the people his heard no more. " The ftream of Clutha was removed from its place " by the fall of the walls. The thiftle (hook there " its lonely head : l^he mofs whillled to the wind. " The fox looked out from the windows; the rank " grafs of the Vvall waved round his head. Defolate " IS the dwelling of Mcina ; iilence is in the houfe of her futlies. Nothing a!fo can be more natural and lively than the manner in which Carthon after- wards defcr'.bes how the conflagration of his city affected him wlien a child : " Have I not feen tlie " fallen Balclutha ? And Hiall I feaft with Comhal's *' fon? Comlial ! who threw liis fire in the midft of my " father's hall ! I was young, and knew not the caufe " why the virgins wept. The columns of fmoke *' pleafed mine eye, when they rcfe above my walls : '• I often looked back wi'.h gladnefs, when my friends " fled above the hill. But v\hen the years of my " youth cai.e on, I beheld the mofs of my fallen " walls. My ligh arcfe with the morning ; and my " tears defcended with night. Shall I not figlit, f " fuld to my foul, againft the children of my foes ?
" And
252 A CRITICAL DISSERTATOIN
" And I will fight, O bard ! I feel the ftrength of my " foul." In the fame poem, the aflsmbling of thei chiefs round Fingal, who had been warned of fomei impending danger by the appearance of a prodigy, is defcribed with fo many pidturefque circumftances,- that one im.agines himfelf prefent in the afiembly, " The king alone beheld the terrible fight, and he " forefaw the death of his people. He came in " filence to his hall, and took his father's fpear'j " the mail rattled on his breaft. The heroes rofe a- " round. They looked in filenee on each other, " marking the eyes of Fingal. They faw the battle; " in his face. A thoufand fhields are placed at once' " on their arms ; and they drew a thoufand fwords» " I'he hall of Selma brightened around. The clang, " of arms afcends. The gray dogs howl in their " place. No word is among the mighty chiefs. " Each marked the eyes of the king ; and half af- " fumed his fpear,"
It has been objeded to Offian, that his defcrip- tions of military a«5lions are imperfecft, and much lefs diverfified by circumfiances than thofe of Homer, This is in fome meafure true. The amazing ferti- lity of Homer's invention is no where fo much dif- played as in the incidents of his battles, and in the little hiftory pieces he gives of the perfons flain. Nor indeed, with regard to the talent of defcription, can too much be faid in praife of Homer. Every thing is alive in his writings. The colours with which he paints are thofe of nature. But Olfian's genius was of a different kind from Homer's. It led him to hurry towards grand objec'is rather than to amufei himfelf with particulars of lefs importance. He could dwell on the death of a favourite hero : but that of a jrivate man feldom flopped his rapid courfe. Flomer's genius was more comprehenfive than Offian's. It included a wider circle of objeiSts ; and could work up any incident into defciiption. Offian's was more
limited;
ON THE POEMS OF 0S8IAN, 253
limited ; but the region within which it chiefly exert- ed itfslf was the higheil of all, the region of the pa- thetic and fublime.
We mull: not imagine, however, that Offian's battles confift only of general indiltin£l defcription. Such beautiful incidents are fometiincs introduced, and the circumftancesof the perfons flain fo much di- verfified, as Oiow that he could have embellifhed his military fceaes with an abundant variety of particu- lars, if his genius had led him to dwell upon them. One man " is ilretched in the dull of his native land; " he fell, where often he had fpread the feaft, and oftea " raifed the voice of the harp." The maid of Inif- tore is introduced, in a moving apollrophe, as weep- ing for another; and a third, " as rolled in the duft " he lified his faint eyes to the king," is remembered and mourned by Fingal as the friend of Agandecca. The blood pouring from the wound of one who is llain by night, is heard " hilling on tl;e half-extin- " guilhed oak," which had been kindled for giving light: Another, climbing a tree to efcape from his foe, :s pierced by his fpear from behind ; " Hiriek- " ing, panting he fell ; whilft mcfs and withered " branches purfue his fall, and ftrev/ the blue arms " of Gaul." Never was a finer pi6lure drawn of the ardour of two youthful warriors than the following:: *' I faw Gaul in his armour, and my foul was mix- " ed with his : For the fi.e of the battle was in his " eyes; he locked to the foz with joy. We fpoke " the words of friendfhip in fecret ; and the light- " ning of our fwords poured together. We drew " them behind the wood, and tried the ftrengtk of ■*» our arms in the empty air."
OfTian is always concife in his defcriptions, which adds much to their beauty and force. For it is a great miftake to imagine, that a crowd of particulars, or a very full and extended ftyle, is of advantage to defcription. (Jn the contrary, fuch a diffufe man- ner for the moftpart v^eakens it. Anyone redundant Vol. II. Y circumftance
254 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
circumfTance is a nuifance. It cncunibers and loads the fancy, and renders the main image indiltindl. " Obftat," as Qiiintilian fays with regard to ftyle, " quicquid non adjuvat." To be concife in defcrip- tion is one thing; and to be general, is another. No defcription that reils in generals can pofTibly begoodj it can convey no Uvely idea ; for it is of particulars only that we have a diflinct conception. But at the fanie time, no ftrong imagination dwells long upon any one particular ; or heaps together a mafs of trivial ones. iJy the happy choice of fome one, or of a few that are the moll ftriking, it prefcnts the image more complete, Ihows us more at one glance, than a feeble imagination is able to do^ by turning its objetfl round and round into a variety of lights. Tacitus is of all profe writers tiie moft concife. He has even a degree of abri'ptnefs rcfembling cur author : Yet no writer is more ei-ninent for lively defcription. When Fin- gal, after having conquered tb.e haughty Suaran, propofes to diAnifs him with honour; *' Raife to- •' morrow thy white fails to the wind, thou brother "of Agandecca!" he conveys, by thus addrefling liis enemy, a ftrongcr impieffion of the em.otions then paffing with.in his m,ind, than if lh,e whole pa- rngraphs had been fpcnt in defcribing the coniiid be- tween refentment againfi Swaran and the tender re- meti.brance of his ancient love. No amphncation is needed to give us the mofl full idea tf a hardy vete- ran, after the few follov-ing words: " Plis Ihield is " marked with the ftrokes of battle ; his red eye de- *' fpifes danger." When Ofcar, left alone, was fur- rounded by foes, " he flood," it is faid, " growing in his pbce, like the fiood of the '"narrow vale;" a happy rcprefentaticn of one, who, by daring intre- pidity in the m'ldd of danger, fecms to increafe in his appearance, and becomes more formidable every mo- ment, like the fudden rifmg of the torrent hemmed in by the valley. And a whole crowd of ideas, con- cerning the circumftances of d^meftic forrow occafion^
ed
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 255
cd by a young warrior's nrft going forth to battle, is poured upon the mind by thefe words : " Calmar " leaned on his father's fpear ; that fpear which he " brought from Lara's hall, when the foul of his mo- " ther was fad."
The concifenefs of Oflian's defcriptions is the more proper on account of his fubje£ts. Defcriptions of gay and fmiling fcenes may, without any difad- vantage be ampliried and prolonged. Force is not the predominant quality expefled in thefe. The de- fcription maybe weakened by being diffufe, yet, not-' withflanding, may be beautiful fiil!. Whereas, with refpecl- to grand, folemn,. and pathetic fubjeds, which are OlTian's chief field, the cafe is very different. In thefe, energy is above s:l things required. The ima- giiiation muit be feized at once, or not at all; and is far r«ore deeply impreiTed by one ftrong and ardent image, than by the anxious mir.utenefs of laboured ilkillration. . >
But Oilian's genius, though chiefly tumei towards the fublime and pathetic, was not cont:ned to It: In fubjects aifo of g:-ace and delicacy, he difcovers tiie hand of a maitzr. Take for an example the follow- ing elegant defcription of Agandecca, wherein ir.e tejidemefs of Tibuius feems united with the majeily of Virgil. " The daughter of the fnow overheard, " and left the halj of her fecret figh. She came in "all her beaa'y; like the moon from the cloud of " the eaft. Loveiinefs was around her as light. " Her (teps were like the mufic of fongs. Siie faw '• :'■; youth and loved him, He was the ftolen figh '• t her foul. Her blue eyes rolled on him in fecret : " And Ihe bh;l the chietof Morven." Several o- t'ler inftances miglu be produced of the feelings of love and frie.^.dihip painted by our author wirh a natural and happy delicacy.
The fimplicity of Oiilan's manner adds grest beau- ty, to his defcriptions, and indeed to his whole poet- Y 3 ry.
2^6 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
ry. We meet with no affefied ornaments ; no forced refinement; no marks either in ftyle or thought cf a fiudied endeavour to (liine and fpark'e. Offian appears every where to be prompted by his feelings; r.nd to fpeak from tl;e abundance of his heart. I re- member no more than one inftance of what can be called quaint thought in this vvholc coI!e.?iion of his v.'orks. It is in the firft book cf f ingal, where, from the tombs of two lovers, two lonely yews are mentioned to liave fprung, " whofe brnnches wilhed " to meet on high." This fympathy of the trees vith the loveis-, tnay be reckoned to border on an Italian conceit; and it is fosnev-hat curious to find this fjngle inflance of that fort of wit in our Celtic poetry.
ilie "joy of grief," is one of Offian's remarkable expreffions, feveral times repeated. If any one fhall tl'iink tliat it needs to be jufiifted by a precede;!!, he may find it twice ufed by Homer; in the Iliad, when Achilles is vifited by the ghoil of Patroclus; and in the Odyffey, when Ulyffes meets his mother in the fnades. On both thefe occafions, the heroes, melt- ed with tendernefs, lament their not having it in their power to throw their arms round the ghoft, " that we might," fay they, " in a mutual embrace " enjoy the delight of grief."
— — Amplexu cerunvnofo cbledeimir *.
But in truth the expreflion ftands in need of no defence from authority ; for it is a natural andjuft expreflion, and conveys a clear idea cf that gratifica- tion, which a virtuous heart often feels in the in- dulgence of a tender melancholy, Offian makes a very proper diftin^ftion between this gratification, and l' tl-ic deAru^tive effect: of overpowering grief. " There " is 2 jov in grief, when peace dwells in the breads of '^ the fad. But forrow waftes the mournful, O " daughter of Tofoar, and their days are few." To " give the joy of grief," generally fignifies to raife the
llrain * OJy;^ It. 2 11. Iliad 23. -58.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN". 257
ftraiaof ibft and grave mufic; and fiaely charaflerifes the tail:e of Oilian's age and country. In thofe days, when the (bngs of bards were the great delight of he- roes, the tragic rriu;e was held in chief honour; gal- lant aftions, and virtuous fufferings, were the chofen theme ; preferably to that light and trifling ftrain of poetry and mufic, which proaiotes light and trifling manners, and ferves to emafculate the mind. " Strike " tl-.e harp in my hall," faid the great Fingal, in the ir.idfl of youth and viflorj', " Strike the harp in my " hall, and let Fingai hear the fong. Fleafant is the "joy of grief ! It is like the Hiowerof fpring, when it " foftens the branch of the oak; and the young leaf " lifts it green head. Sing on, O bards ! I'o-nrior- " row we lift the failf."
Perfonal epithets have been much ufed by all the poets of the rao'ii ancient ages: and when well cho- ien, net general and unmeaning, they contribure noc a little to render the flyle defcriptive and animated. Be^des epithets founded on bodily diftincflions, akin to many of Homer's, we find in OlTian feveral which are remarkably beautiful and poetical. Such as, Of- car of the future fights, Fingal of the mildefi: look, Carril of other times, the mildly blufiiing Everallin; Bragela, the lonely fun-beam of Dunfcaich; a Cul- dee, the fen of the fecret ceil.
But of all the ornaments employed in defcriptive poetry, comparifons or funilies are the mofl fplen- did. Thefe chiefiy form what is called the imagery of a poem : and as they abound fo much in the works of Oliian, and are commonly aniong the fa- vourite parages of all poets, it may be expected that I ihould be fomewhat particular in my remarks upon them.
'A poetical fimile always fuppofes two objefls
brought together, between which there is fome near
relation or connection in the fancy. What that re-
Y 3 latior.
t Carric-thura*
258 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
lation ought to be, cannot be precifely defined. For various, almoft numberlefs, are the analogies fornaed among ol-ijcia-s, by a fnrightly imagination. The re- lation of a6lual fimilitude, or iikenefs of appearance, is far from being the only foundation of poetical com- parifcn. Sometimes a refemblance in the cffedt pro- duced by two objefts, is made the connecting princi- ple : Sometimes a refemblance in one of the diftin- guifliing property or circumftance. Very often two cbjeifs are brought together in a fimile, though they refem.ble one anotlier, firi£lly fpeaking, in nothing, only becaufe they raife in the mind a train of fimilar, and what may be called concordant, ideas ; fo that the remembrance of the one, when recalled, ferves to quicken and heighten the impreffion made by the other. Thus, to give an inflance from our poet, the pleafure with which an old man looks down on the exploits of his youth, has certainly no direct refem- blance to the beauty of a fine evening; farther than that both agree in producing a certain calm, placid joy. Yet Ofiian has founded upon this, one of the moft beautiful comparifons that is to be met with in any poet. " VViit thou not lilten, fon of the rock, *' to the fong of Gfllan? My foul is full of other *' times; the joy of my youth returns. Thus, the *' fun appears in the weft, after the fleps of his *' brightnefs have moved behind a florm. The green *' hills lift their dewy heads. The blue ftreamis re- *' joice in the vak. The aged hero comes forth on " his f^aff; and his gray, hair glitters in the beam." Never Vvas there a finer group of objects. It raifes a ftrong conception o'f the old man's joy and elation ef heart, by difplaying a fcene, which produces in every fpectator, a correfponding train of pleafing emo«- tieriS,; the declining fun looking forth in his bright- nefs after a ftorm ; the cheerful face of all nature; and the llill life finely animated by the circumftance of the aged hero, v>ith liis ftaff and his gray locks j
a
ON THE POEMS OF 0SSIA>7. 259
a c'rcumftance both extremely pifturefque in itfelf, and peculiarly fuited to the main objcir of the com- pariibn. Such analogies and affociarions of ideas as thefe, are highly plealing to the fancy, 1 hey give op- portunity for introducing many a fine poetical picture. They diverfify the fcene ; they aggrandize the fub- ject ; they keep the imagination awake and fpright- Jy. For as the judgment is principally excercifed in diftinguiiliing objet'^ts, and remarking the differences among thofe which feem alike; fo the higheft amufe- ment of the imagination is to trace likenefles and a- greements among thofe which feem different.
The principal rules which refpeft poetical compa- rifons are, that they be introduced on proper occa- fions, when the mind is difpofed to relilhthem; and not in the midft of fome fevere and agitating paffion, which cannot admit this play of fancy ; that they be founded on a refemblance neither too near and ob- vious fo as to give little amufement to the imagina- tion in tracing it, nor too faint and remote, fo as to be apprehended with difficulty ; that they ferve either to illuftrate the principal objeif, and to render the con- ception of it, more clear and dilhnct ; or at leaft, to heighten and embellifh it, by a fuitable aflbciation of images*.
Lvery country has a fcenery peculiar to itfelf; and the imagery of a good poet will exhibit it. For, as he copies after nature, his allufions will of courfe be taken from thofe objeifts which he fees around him, and which have often ftruck his fancy. For this reafon, in order to judge of the propriety of poetical imagery, we ought to be, in fome meafure, acquaint- ed with the natural hiftory of the country where the fcene of the poem is laid. The introduction of fo- reign images betrays a poet, copying not from na- ture, but from other writers. Hence fo many Lions
and
* See Elements of Crltlclfm, vol. 3. ch. 19.
260 A CRITICAL DISSERTATIOM
and Tygers, Eagles and Serpents, which wc meet with in the limilies of modern poets; as if thefe ani- mals had acquired fome right to a place in poetical comparifons for ever, becaufe employed by ancient authors. They employed them v/ith propriety, as objeiis generally known in their country ; but they are abfurdly ufed for illuClration by us, wl.o know them only at fecond hand, or by defcription. To moll: readers cf modern poetry, it were more to the purpofe to defcrlbe Lions or Tygers by fimilies ta- ken from men, than to compare men to Lions. Cfiian is very correct in this particular. His image- ry is, without exception, cop.ed from tr.at face of nature, which he faw before his eyes ; and by confe- quence may be expedled to be lively. We meet with no Grecian or Italian fcenery ; but with the milts, and clouds, and itorms, of a northern moun- tainous region.
No pc^t abounds more in fimilies than Ofilan. There are in this collection as many, at ieaft, as in the whole Iliad and OdylTey' of Homer. I am indeed inclined to think, that the works of botia poets are too much crowtled with them. Similies are iparkiing ornaments ; and like aJl things that fparkle, are apt to dazzle and tire us by their luftre. But if Gffian's fimilies be too frequent, they have this advantage cf being commonly Ihorter than Homer's ; they inter- rupt his narration Itfs ; he juii glances afide to fome refcmbiing obje^^t, and inllantly returns to his former track. Homer's fimilies include a wider range of ob- jects. But in return, Ofiian's are, without excep- tion, taken from objects of dignity, which cannot be faid for all thofe which Homer employs. The Sun, tlie Moon, and the Stars, Clouds and Meteors, Ligluning and Thunder, Seas and W^hales, Rivers, Torrents, VV^inds, Ice, Rain, Snow, Dews, Mill, Fire and Smoke, Trees and Forefts, Heath and Grafs and Flowers, Rocks and MountAins, Mufie
and
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 261
and Songs, Light and Darknefs, Spirits and Ghofls ; thefe form the circle, within which OlTian's compa- rifons generally run. Some, not many, are taken from Lirds and Eeafts ; as Eagles, Sea-Fowl, the Horfe, the Deer, and the Mountain Bee; and a very few from fuch operations of art as were then known. Homer has diverfified his imagery by many more al- . lufions to the animal world; to Lions, Bulls, Goats, Herds of Cattle, Serpents, Infects; and to the various occupations of rural and palloral life. Offian's defect in this article, is plainly ov.ing to the defart, uncultivated ihte of his country, which fuggefted to him few ima- ges beyond natural inanimate objeds, in their rudeit fc-rm. I he birds and animals cf the country were probably not numerous; and his acquaintance with them was llender, as they vvere little fubjectcd to the ufes of m-An.
7"he great objeclion made to Offian's imagery, is its uniforrniry, and tlie too frequent repetition of the fame companions. In a work (o thick fown with fimilies, one could not but,expev51: to find images of the fame kind fometimes fuggefted to the poet by refembling objects ; efpecially To a poet like Ofilun, who wrote from the immediate impulfe of poetical enthufiafm, and witlwut much preparation u{ ftudy or labour. Fertile as Komer's imagination is acknow- ledged to be, who does not know how often his Lions and Bulls, and Flocks of Sheep, recur with little or no variation ; nay, fometimes in the very fame words f The objection made to OfTian is, how- ever, founded in a great meafure, upon a miffake. It has been fuppofed, by inattentive readers, that wherever the Moon, the Clouci, or the Thunder, returns in a fimile, it is the fatsie fimile, and the fame Moon, or Cloud, or Thunder, which they had met With a few pages be'^ore. Whereas verv often the funilies are widely diuerent. The cbjeft, whence they are taken, is indeed in fubftance the fame j bqt
the
262 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
the image is new; for the appearance of the object is changed ; it is prefented to the fancy in anorlier at- titude ; and clothed with new circumftances, to make it fuit the different illuftration for whicli it is employed. In this lies Offian's great art; in fo happily varying the form of the few natural ap- pearances with which he was acquainted, as to make them correfpond to a great many different objects.
Let us take for one inftance the Moon, which is very frequently introduced into his comparifons ; as in northern climates, where the nights are long, the Moon is a greater obje£t of attention, than in the climate of rioir-er ; and let us view how much our poet has diverfiiied its appearance. The ft^ield of a Vv-arrior is like " the darkened moon when it moves " a dun circle through the heavens." The face of a ghoft, wan an pale, is like " the beam of the letting '' moon," And a different appearance of a ghoH-, thin and indiftinft, is like " the new moon fcen " through the gathered miH, when J!:e Tky pours *' down its flaky fnow, and the world is fiient and " dark; or in a different form Ail!, it is like " the *' watery beam of the moon, when it rufiies fro;n " between two clouds, and the midniglit {hov.cr is " on the field." A very oppoffte ufe is made of the moon in the defcription of Acandecca: " She came in " all her beauty, like the moon from the cloud of " the Eaii." Hope, fucceeded by difapMointn-cnt, is " joy riling on her face, and forrovv returning a- gain, like a thin cloud on the moon." But when Swaran, after his defeat, is cheered by Fingal's genc- rofity, " His face brightened like the full moon of *' heaven, when the clouds vaniHi away, and leave *' her calm and broad in the midiiof the ilcy." Ven- vela is '• bright as tlie moon when it trembles over " the weftern wave ;" but the foul of the guilty " Uthal is " dark as the troubled face of the moon, *' when it foretels the ilorm." And by a verv fan-
'■' ciful
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 263
ful and uncommon aJlufion, it is faiJ of Cormac, who was to die in his early years, " Nor long fnait " thou lift the fpear, mildly (hining beam of youth ! " Death ftands dim behind thee, like the darkened " half of the moon behind its growing light."
Another inftance of the fame nature may be taken from mift, which, as being a very familiar appear- ance in the country of OlTian, he applies to a variety of purpcfes, and purfues through a great many forms. Sometimes, which one would hardly expe£l:, he em- ploys it to heighten the appearance of a beautiful ob- ject. The hair of Morna is ^' like the mift of Crom- " la, when it curls on the rock, and fliines to the " beam of the wefr." — " The fong comes with its " mufic to melt and pleafe the ear. It is like foft " mift, that rifing from a lake pours on the filent " vale. The green flowers are filled with dew. The " fun returns m its ftrength, and the mift is gone*." Bur, for the moft part, mift is euiployed as a fimiii- tude of foime difagreeable or terrible obje^Il:. " The " foul of Nathos was fad, like tiie fun in the day of " mift, when his face is watery ar.d dim." '{'he " darknefs of old age comes like tne mift of tiie " del'art." The face of a ghoft is " pale as tiie mill *' of Crom'a." " The gloom of the battle is rolled
'' along
* There is a remarkable propriety in tills coinparifon. It is intended to expkin the effect of foft and mournful iriiific. Armin appears difanbed at a performan e of this kind. Carnior fays to him, " Why burlis tl,e figh of " Armin? Is there a caufe to mciirn? The fong comes with " its muiic to melt and pleafe the ear. It is like foft mift," &c. that Is, fuch mournful fcngs have a happy eflVct to foften the heart, and to improve it by tender emotions, as the moidure of the mift refrelhes and nouriflies the riowers ; whilft the fadnefs they occafion is only tranfient, and foon difpelkd by the fucceeding occupations and amufements of life : " The fun returns in its ftrength, and the mift is
264 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" along as mift that is poured on the valley, when " ftorms invade the (ilent fun-fhine of heaven." Fame' fuddenly departing, is likened to " mift that ".flies away before the ruftling wind of the vale." A ghoft, flowly vanifhing, to " mift that melts " by degrees on the funny hill." Cairbar, after his treacherous aflairmation of Ofcar, is compared, to a peftilential fog. " I love a foe like Cath- " mor,** fays Fmgal, " his foul is great ; his arm is i " ftrong; his battles are full of fame. But the little *' foul is like a vapour that hovers round the marfhy "lake. It never rifes on the green hill, left the " winds meet it there. Its dwelling is in the cave; " and it fends forth the dart of death." This is a fimile highly finiflied. But there is another which is ftill more ftriking, founded alfo en mift, in the fourth- book of Temora. Two factious chiefs are contend- ing ; Cathmor the king interpofes, rebukes and ft- Icnces them. The poet intends to give us the high- eft idea of Cathmor's fuperiority; 3nd moft efreclual- !y accomplifties his intention by the following hap- py image. " They funk from the king on either " fide ; like two colunms of morning mift, when the " fun rifes between them on his glittering rocks. Dark " is their roiling on either Mt ; each towards its " reedy pool." Thefe inftances may fufficiently ftiew> with what richnefs of imagination Offian's compa- rifons abound, and, at the fame time, with what propriety of judgment they are employed. If his field was narrow, it muft be admitted to have been 2£ well cultivated as its extent would allow.
As it is ufual to judge of poets from 3 comparifon cf their fimilies more than of other paflages, ir will ptrhaps be agreeable to the reader, to fee how Homer and Oflian have condudted fome images of the fame kind. This might be fhevn in many inftances. For as the great objects of nature are common to the poets of all nations, and make the general ftore- houfe of all imagery, the ground-work of their com-
parifons '
ON THE POEMS OF 03SIAN. 265
pariibns muft of courfe be frequently the fame. I Ihall felecl only a few of th.e moll conficierable froin both poets. Mr, Pope's tranflation cf Homer can be of no ufe to us here.
The parallel is altogether unfair between profe, and the impofing harmony of flowing numbers. It is only by viewing Homer in the fimplicity of a profe tranflation, that we can form any comparifon between the two bards.
The Hiock of two encoinitering armies, the noife and the tumult of battle, afford one of the mo/^ grand and awful fubjec^s of defcription ; on which all epic poets have exerted their ftrength. Let us firft hear Homer. The following defcription is a favourite one, for we find it twice repeated in the fame words *. " When now the conflicting hofls joined in the field " of battle, then were mutually oppofed fhields, and " fwords, and the firength of armed men. The bof- " fy bucklers were dafhed againft each other. Tiie *' univerfal tumult rofe. 'i here were mingled the " triumpl'.ant fliouts and tl.e dying groans of the vic- " tors and the vanquifhed. The earth fl:reamed with *' blood. As when winter torrents, rufhing from the " mountains, pour into a narrow valley, their violent " waters. They iflue from a thoufand fprings, and " mix in the hallowed channel. The diftant fhep- " herd hears on the mountain, their roar from afar. " Such was the terror and the fliout of the engaging " armies." In another paffage, the poet, much in the manner of Oflian, heaps fimiie on ilm.ile, to ex- prefs the vaflnefs of the idea, with which his imagina- tion feems to labour. " With a mighty fiiout the " hofls engage. Not fo loud roars the wave of ocean, " when driven againft the fliore by the whole force " of the boifterous north ; not fo loud in the moun- " tain, the noife of the flame, when rifing in its fury *' to confume the foreft ; not fo loud the wind among VoL.JI. Z "the
* Iliad iv. 446. and Iliad viii. 6c.
266 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
*' the lofty oaks, when the wrath of the ftorm rages; " as was tlie clamour of the Greeks and Trojans, " when, roaring terrible, tliey ruflied againft each o- " ther *."
To thefe defcriptlons and firnilies, we may oppofe the following from Offian, and leave the reader to judge between them. He will find images of the lame kind employed ; commonly lefs extended ; but thrown forth with a glowing rapidity which charac- terifes our poet. " As autumn's daik ftorms pour " from two echoing hills, towards each other, ap- *' proached the heroes. As two dark flreams fiom *' high rocks meet, and mix, and roar on the plain ; '« loud, rough, and dark in battle, meet Lochlin *' and Inisfail. Chief mixed his ftrokes with chief, *■' and man with man. Steel clanging, founded on " fteel. Helmets are cleft on high; blood burfts and " fmokes around. As the troubled noife of the " ocean, when .roll the waves on high; as the lafl: " peal of the thunder of heaven, fuch is the noife of " battle. As roll a ihoufand waves to the rock, fo " Swaran's hofl- came on ; as meets a rock a thou- " fand waves, fo Inisfail met Swaran. Death raifes " all his voices around, and mixes with the found of " Ihields. The field echoes from wing to wing, as ^' a hundred hammers that rife by turns on the red '' fon of the furnace. As a hundred winds on Mor- " ven ; as the ftreams of a hundred hills ; as clouds " fly fucceffive over heaven ; or as the dark ocean " ailaulrs the (hore of the defart ; fo roaring, fo vaft, " fo terrible, the armies mixed on Lena's echoing" "• heath." In feveral of theie images, there is a re- markable fiinilarity to Homer's ; but v;hat follows is fuperior to any comparifon that Homer ufes on this lur-ieul:. " 1 lie groan of the people fpread over the *' hills ; it was like the thunder of night, when the
"' cloud
* Iliad xiv. 393.
OS THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 267
"^ cloud burfls on Cona ; and a thoufand ghofls " fhriek at onoe on the hollow wind." Never was an image of more awful fublimitv employed to height- en the terror of battle.
Both poets compare the appearance of an army approaching, to the gathering of dark clouds. "As *' when a (hepherd," fays Homer, " beholds from " the rock a cloud borne along the lea by the wertern " wind ; biack as pitch it appears from afar, foiling " over the ocean, end carrying the dreadful ftorm. " He Hirinks at the fight, and drives his flock into •" the cave: Such, under the Ajaces, moved on, the "dark, the thickened phalanx to the war*" — " They came," fays Oflian, " over the defart like " ftormy clouds, when tlie winds roll them over the "heath; their edges are tinged with lightning; and *^ the echoing groves forefee the fiorm." The edges of the cloud tirjged with lightning, is a fubiime idea; but the Oiepherd and his ficck, render Home; 's liinile more piiiurefque. This is frequently the difference between the two poets. OfTian gives no more thaa the main image, ftrong and full. Homer adds cir- . cumftances and appendages, which amufe the fancy- by enlivening the Icenery.
Homer compares the regular appearance of an ar- my, to " clouds that are fettled on the mountain top, in the day of calmnefs, when the flrength of the ^' north wind fleepsj." Offian, with full as much propriety, compares the appearance of a difoidered army, " to the mountain cloud, when the blaft hath entered its womb ; and fcatters the curhng gloom on " every fide." Offian's clouds alTume a great many forms; and, as we Tn'.ght expeit from his climate, are a fertile fource of imagery to him. " The war- " rior's followed their chiefs, like the gathering of the " rainy clouds, behind the red nieteors of heaven." Z 2 An
* Iliad iv. 275. t Iliad, v. 522.
268 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
An army retreating without coming to a£lionj is like- ened to " clouds, that having long threatened rain, " retire flowly behind the hills." The pifture of Oithona, after (he had determined to die, is lively and delicate, " Her foul was refolved, and the tear *< was dried from her wildly-looking eye, A trou- " hied joy rofe on her mind, like the red path of the *' lightning on a ftormy cloud." The image a!fo of the gloomy Cairbar, meditating, in filence, the afTaf- iination of Ofcar, until the moment came when his defigns were ripe for execution, is extremely noble, and connplete in all its parts. " Cairbar heard their ** words in filence, like the cloud of a fliower; it " ftands dark on Cromla, till the lightning burfts its ** fide. The valley gleams with red light ; the fpirits *' of the ftorm rejoice. So ftood the filent king of *' Temora ; at length his words are heard."
Homer's comparifon of Achilles to the Dog-Star, , is very fublime. " Priam beheld him rurtiing along : «' the plain, Ihining in his armour like the ftar of' *' autumn ; bright are its beams, diftinguifhed amidft " the multitude of ftars in the dark hour of night. ** It rifes in its fplendor ; but its fplendor is fatal; be- " tokening to miferable men, the deftroying heat t" The firft appearance of Fingal is, in like manner, compared by OfTian, to a ftar or meteor. " Fingal, , *' tall in his fhip, ftretched his bright lance before " him. Terrible was the gleam of his ft:eel; it was " like the green meteor of death, fetting in the heath *' of Malmor, when the traveller is alone, and the *' broad moon is darkened in heaven." The hero's • appearance in Homer, is more magnificent; in Oflian, more terrible.
A tree cut down, or overthrown by a ftorm, is a fimilitude frequent among poets for defcribing the fall of a warrior in battle. Homer employs it often.
But
* Iliad xxli. 260
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 269
But the niofl beautiful by far of his comparirons found- ed on this objeiSl, indeed one of the moll beautiful in the whole Iliad, is that on the death of Euphorbus. *' As the young and verdant olive, v.'hich a man hath "reared with care in a lonely field, where the fprings " of water bubble around it; it is fair and flourilh- " ing ; it is fanned by the breath of all the w inds, and " loaded with white bloffoms ; when the fudden blaft '* of a whirlwind defcending, roots it out from its " bed, and llretches it out on the dufl*." To this, elegant as it is, we may oppofe the following fimile of Offian's, relating to the death of the three fons of Ufnoth. " They fell, like three young oaks which " flood alone on the hill. The traveller faw the love- " ly trees, and wondered how thev grew fo lonely. " i^he bbft of the defart came by night, and laid " their green heads low. Next day he returned ; but " they were withered, and the heath was bare." r^Ialvina's allufion to the fame object, in her lamenta- tion over Ofcar, is fo exquifiteiy tender, that J can- not forbear giving it a place alfo. " I was a lovely *' tree in thy prefence, Ofcar ! with all my branches " round me. But thy death came, like a blaft from " the defart, and laid my green head low. The " fpring returned with its fliowers; but no leaf of " mine arofe." Several of Offian's fimilies taken from trees, are remarkably beautiful, and diverfified with well chofen circumftances ; fuch as that upon the death of Ryno and Orla: "They have fallen " like the oak of the defart ; when it lies acrofs a *' ftream, and withers in the wind of the moun- " tains :" Or that which Offian applies to himfelf ; " I, like an ancient oak in Morven, moulder a- " lone in my place ; the blaft hath lopped my " branches awayj and I tremble at the wings of the *<-north."
Z 3 Aa.
■^ Iliad xvil. 53<r.-
270 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
As Homer exalts his heroes by comparing them to gods, Ofliaa makes the fame ufe of comparifons taken from fpirits and ghofts. Swaran " roared in " battle, like the flirill fpirit of a ftorm that fits dim *' on the clouds of Gormal, and enjoys the death of " the mariner." His people gathered around Erra- gon, " like ftorms around che ghofl of night, when " he calls them from the top of Morven, and pre- " pares to pour them on the land of the ftranger." " 1 hey fell before my fon, like groves in the defart, " when an angry ghoft rufhes through night, and '^ takes their green heads in his hand." in fuch images, Oflian appears in his llrength; for very fel- dom have fupernatural beings been painted with fo much fubllmity, and fuch force of imagination, as by this poet. Even Homer, great as he is, muft yield to him in fimilies formed upon thefe. Take, for inftance, the following, which is the moft re- markable of this kind in the iliad. " Meriones fol- *' lowed Idomeneus to battle, like Mars the deftroy- " er of men, when he ruflies to war. Terror, his ^' beloved fon, firong and fierce, attends him ; who " fills with difmay, the moft valiant hero. They " come from Thrace, armed againft the Ephyrians " and Phlegyans ; nor do they regard the prayers of *' either; but difpofe of fuccefs at their will*." The idea here is undoubtedly noble : but obferve what a figure C flian fets before the aftoniihed imagination, and with what fublimely terrible circumftances he has heightened it " He rulhed in the found of his arms, " like the dreadful fpirit of Loda, when he comes in " the roar of a thoufand ftorms, and fcatters battles " from his eyes. He fits on a cloud over Lochlin's " feas. His mighty hand is on his fword. The " winds lift his flaming locks. So terrible was Cu^ " chullin in the day of his fame."
Homer's
^ Iliad xiii. 2980
ON THE rOEMS OF OSSIAN. 27I
Homer's comparifons relate chiefly to martial fub- jeds. to the appearances and motions of armies, the engagement and death of heroes, and the various in- cidents of war. In Offian, we find a greater variety of other fubjeds illuftrated by fuiiilies ; particularly, the fongs of bards, the beauty of women, the diffe- rent circumftances of old age, forrow, and private diftrefs ; which give occafion to much beautiful imagery. What, for inftance, can be more delicate and moving, than the following fimile of Olthona's in her lamentation over the dilhonour fhe had fuffercd ? " Chief of Strumon," replied the figh- ing maid, " why didft thou come over the dark " blue wave to Nuath's mournful daughter .? — " Why did not I pafs away in fecret, like the *' flower of the rock, that lifts its fair head unfeen, " and flrews its withered leaves on the blaft?" The mufic of bards, a favourite obje6f with Oflian, is il- luftrated by a variety of the moft beautiful appear- ances that are to be found in nature. It is com- pared to the calm fhower of fpring; to the dews of the morning on the hill of roes ; to the face of the blue and ftill lake. Two fimilies on this fubje(5l I fliall quote, becaufe they would do honour to any of the moft celebrated claflics, f he one is; " Sit thou *' on the heath, O bard ! and let us hear thy voice j " it is pleafant as the gale of the fpring that fighs " on the hunter's ear, when he wakens from dreams " of joy, and has heard the mufic of the fpirits of the " hill." The other contains a (hort, but exquifitely tender image, accompanied with the fineft poetical painting. " The mufic of Carril was like the me- " mory of joys that are pafl, pleafant and mournful " to the foul. The ghofls of departed bards heard it " from Slimora's fide. Soft founds fpread along the " wood ; and the filent valleys of night rejoice." What a figure would fuch imagery and fuch fcenery have made, had they been prefented to us adorned
with
272 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
with the fweetnefs and harmony of the Virgiiian numbers !
I have chofen all along to compare Oflian with Homer, rather than Virgil, for an obvious reafon. There is a much nearer correfpondence between the times and manners of the two former poets. Both wrote in an early period of fociety; both are originals; both are diftinguifhed byfimplicity, fubiiiriity, and fire. The correct elegance of Virgil, his srtful imitatioa of Homer, the Roman ftatelinefs which he every where maintains, admit no parallel with the abrupt boldnefs, and enthufiaftic v/armth of the Celtic bard. In one article, indeed, there is a refemblance. Virgil is more tender than Homer; and thereby agrees more with Offian, with this difference, that the feelings- of the one are more gentle and poli(hed, thofe of the- other more ftrong ; the tendernefs of Virgil foftens, that of OfTian diffolves and overcomes the heart.
A refemblance mav be fometimes obferved be- tween OlTian's comparifons, and thofe employed by the facred writers. They abound much in this figure, and they ufe it with the utmoft propriety*. The imagery of Scripture exhibits a foil and climate altogether different from thofe of Offian ; a warmer country, a more fmiling face of nature, the arts of agriculture and of rural life much farther; advanced. The wine prefs, and the threfl^ing floor, are often prefented to us, the cedar and the palm-tree, the- fragrance of perfumes, the voice of the turtle, and' the beds of lilies. The fimilies are, like Offian's, ge- nerally fliort, touching on one point of refemblance,. rather than fpread out into little epifodes. In the following example may be perceived what inex- preffible grandeur poetry receives from the interven- ' tion of the Deity. " The nations fliall rufh like the • ^' rufliings of many waters; but God fnall rebuke
" them^ ..
*■ See Dr Lowth de Sacra Pcefi Hebrsoruiu,
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 273
" them, and they (hall fly far ofF, and (hM be chafed " as tlie chaff of the mountains before the wind, " and like the down of the thiftle before the whirl- *' wind*."
Befides formal comparifons, the poetry of Oflian is embellithed with many beautiful metaphors : Such as that remarkably fine one applied to Deugala ; *' She was covered with the light of beauty; but her heart was the houfe of pride." This mode of ex- preflion, which fupprefies the mark of comparifon, and fubftitutes a figured defcription in room of the object dcfcribed, is a great enlivener of ftyle. It de- notes that glow and rapidity of fancy, which, with- out paufing to form a regular fimile, paints the ob- jefr at one ftrcke. " 1 hou art to me the beam of " the eafl, rifing in a land unknown."— " in peace, " thou art the gale of fpring; in war, the mountain '• ftorm." *' Pieafant be thy reft, O lovely beam, " foon haft thou fet on our hills! 1 he fteps of thy " departure were ftately, like the moon on the blue " trembling wave. But thou haft left us in dark- " nefs, firft of the maids of Lutha ! Soon haft thou '• fet, AJalvina ! but thou rifeft, like the beam of the "■ eaft, among thic l^lrits of thy friends, wliere they fit '" in their ftormy halls, the chambers of the thun- " der." This is corredt and finely fupported. But in the following inftance, the metaphor, tiiough very beautiful at the beginning, becomes nnperfedt before it cicfes, by being improperly mixed with the literal fenfe. *' Trathal went forth with tl.c ftream of his " people; but thev met a rock; rmgai flood un- " moved; broken they rolled back from iiis fide. " Nor did they roll in fafety; the fpear of the king " purfued their flight."
The hyperbole is a figure which we might expe£l to find often employed byOffian; as the undifcip-
Ijned
* Ifaiah xvii, 1 3,
274 A CRITICAL DISSERTATIOW
lined imagination of early ages generally prompti exaggeration, and carries its objeds to excefs ; where- as longer experience, and farther progrefs in the arts of life, chaften mens ideas and expreflions. Yet Oihan's hyperboles appear not to me, either fo fre- quent or fo harfh as might at hriX have been looked for; an advantage owing no doubt to tlie more cul- tivated ftate, in which, as was before fliewn, poetry fubfifted among the ancient Celtae, than among mofl o- ther barbarous nations. One of the moft exaggerated defcriptions in the whole work, is what meets us at t;ie becrinning of Fingal, where the fcout makes his report to Cuchullin of the landing of the foe. But this is fo far from deferving cenfure, that it merits praife, as being, on that occafion, natural and pro- per. 1 he fcout arrives, trembling and full of fears ; and it is well known, that no paffion difpofes men to hyperbolife more than terror. It both annihilates themfelves in their own apprehenfion, and magnifies every oLjeft which they view through the medium of a troubled imagination. Kence all thofe indiftind images of formidable greatnefs, the natural marks of a diflurbed and confufed mind, wliich occur in Mo- ran's defeription of Swaran's appearance, and in his relation of the conference which they held together; not unlike the report which the afFrigb.ted Jewilh fpies made to their leader of the land of Canaan. " The land " through which we have gone to fearch it, is a land " that eateth up the inhabitants thereof; and all the *' people that we faw in it were people of a great fla- " ture : and there faw we giants, the fons of Anak, *' which come of the giants ; and we were in our " own fight as grafshoppers, and fo were we in their *• fight*."
With regard to perfonifications, I formerly ob- ferved that Offian was fparing, and I accounted for
his
* Nu,Tibers xlli. 32. 330
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN, 275
his being fo. Allegorical perfonages he has none ; and their abfence is not to be regretted. For the in- termixture of thofe fhadowy beings, which have not the fupport even of mythological or legendary belief, with human adlors, feldom produces a good effe£h The fiction becomes too vilible and phantaftic ; and overthrows that impreffion of reality, which the pro- bable recital of human adions is calculated to make upon the mind. In the ferious and pathetic fcenes of OfTian efpeclally, allegorical characters would have been as much out of place, as in Tragedy ; ferving only unfeafonable to amufe the fancy, whilfl tiiey flopped the current, and weakened the force of paf- fion.
( With apoftrophes, or addrefles to perfons abi"ent or dead, which have been in all ages the language of pafTion, our poet abounds ; and they are among his higheil: beauties. Witnefs the apoftrophe, in the firft book of Finga), to the maid of Iniftore, vvhofis lover had fallen in battle; and that inimitably fine one of Cuchullin to Bragela at the conclufion of the fame book. He commands the harp to be ftruck in her praife ; and the mention of Bragela's name, imme- diately fuggefting to him a crowd of tender ideas; " Doll thou raife thy fair face from the rocks," he exclaims, " to find the fails of Cuchullin ? The Tea
■ ,*' is rolling far diftant, and its white foam Ihall de- /' ceive thee for my fails." And now his imagina- *' tion being wrought up to conceive her as, at that *' moment, really in this fituation, he becomes " afraid of the harm (he may receive from the incle- *' mency of the night ; and with an entliufiafm, hap- " py and affecting, though beyond the cautious ftrain of modern poetry, " P^etire," he proceeds, " retire, for it is night, my love, and the dark winds " figh in thy hair. Retire to the hall of my feafts, " and think of the times that are pafl; for I will " not return till the ftorm of war has ceafed. O
Connal,
276 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
" Connal, fpeak of wars and arms, and fend her " from my mind ; for lovely with her raven hair *' is the white-bofomed daughter of Sorglan." This breathes all the native fpirit of pafHon and tender- nefs.
The addrefles to the fun, to the moon, and to the evening ftar, muft draw the attention of every reader of tafte, as among the moft fplendid orna- ments of this colledtion. The beauties of each are too great, and too obvious to need any particular comment. In one paflage only of the addrefs to the moon, there appears fome obfcurity. " Wither doft " thou retire from thy courfe, when the darknefs of " thy countenance grows ? Haft thou thy hall like " Ofllan ? Dwelleft thou in the Hiadow of grief?, " Have thy fifters fallen from heaven ? Are they " who rejoiced with thee at night, no more ? Yes, " they have fallen, fair light ! and thou doft often " retire to mourn. We may be at a lofs to compre- hend, at firft view, the ground of thefe fpeculaiions of Oftian, concerning the moon; but when all the circumftanccs are attended to, they will appear to flow naturally from the prefent fituation of his mind. A mind under the dominion of any ftrong paflion, tinctures with its own difpofition, every ob- ject which it beholds. The old bard, with his heart bleeding for the lofs of all his friends, is meditating en the different phafes of the moon. Her waning and darknefs preients to his melancholy imagination, the image of forrow; and prefently the idea arifes, and is indulged, that, like himfelf, fhe retires to mourn over the lofs of other moons, or of ftars, whom he calls her fifters, and fancies to have once rejoiced with her at night, now fallen from heaven. Darknefs fuggefted the idea of mourning, and mourn- ing fuggefted nothing fo naturally to Oflian, as the death of beloved friends. An inftance precifely fimi- lar of this influence of paffion, may be feen in a paf-
fage
ON THE POEMS OF 0S3IAM. 2/7
faae -which has always been admired of Shakefpeare's King Lear. The old man on the point of diftiac- tion, through the inhumanity of his daughters, fees Edgar appear dlfguifed Uke a beggar and a madman.
Lear. Dldft thou give all to thy daughteis ? And ait ihou come to this ? Couldeft thou leave nothing ? Didft thou give them all I Kent. He hath no daughters, Sir. Lear. Death, traitor 1 nothing could have fubdued na- ture. To Tuch a lownefs, but Iiis unkind daughters.
King Lear, Ad. 3. Socne 5.
The apoftrophe to the winds, in the opening of Darthula, is in the highefl fpirit of poetry. " But ^ »• the winds deceive thee, O Darthula : and deny " the woody Etha to thy fails. Thefe are not thy *' mountains, Nathos ; nor is that the roar of thy *' climbing waves. The halls of Cairbnr are near, *' and the towers of the foe lift their head. Where " have ye been, ye fouthern w-inds; when the fons " of my love were deceived ? But ye have been " fporting on plains, and purfuing the thiftle's beard. " O that ye had been rufliing in the fails of Nathos, *' till the hills of Etha rofe ! till they rofe in their *' clouds, and faw their coming chief." This paf- fage is remarkable for the refemblance it bears to an expoftulation with the wood nymphs, on tiieir ab- sence at a critical time ; which, as a favourite poeti- cal idea, Virgil has copied from Theocritus, and Milton has very happily imitated from both.
I Where -vvere ye, nymphs! when the remorfelef;; deep Clofs'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas ? For neither were yc playing on the deep Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie ; "■■lor on die fliaggy top of Mona, high, "or yet v.'hcre Dcva fpreads her wizard dream f. Vol. II. A a Having
t Milton's Lycidas. Sec Thcocrlt. Idyll. I.
278 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION.
Having now treated fully of Offian's talents, with refpe£t to delcription and imagery, it only remains to , make feme obfervations on his lentiments. No fcn- timents cati be beautiful without being proper ; that is, fuited to the charader and fituation of thofc who utter them. In this refpe£t Offian is as corred as moft writers. His characters, as above obferved, are in general well fupported; which could not have been the cafe, had the fentiments been unnatural or out of place. A variety of perfonages of different ages, fcxes, and conditions, are introduced into his poems j and tiiey fpeak and a6l with a propriety of fentiment and behaviour, which it is furprifing to find in fo rude an age. Let the poem of Darthula, throughout, be ta- ken as an example.
But it is not enough that fentiments be natural and proper. In order to acquire any high degree of poetical .merit, they mufl; alio be fublime and pathe- tic
The fublime is not confined to fentiment alone. It belongs to defcription a!fo ; and whether in de- fcription or in fentiment, imports fuch ideas prefent- ed to the mind, as raife it to an uncommon degree of elevation, and fill it with adiniration and alionilh- inent. This is the h'ghefl cffe£i. either of eloquence or poetry : And to produce this effed, requires a ge- nius glow'ng with the ftrongeft and warmert concep- tion of fome oljecl awful, great, or magnificent. That this charadler of genius belongs to Oflian, may, I think, lufficiently appear, from mai^.y of the paf- fuges I have already had occafion to quote. To pro- duce more inilances, were fuperfiuous. If the en- gagement of Fingal with the fpirit of Loda, in Car- nc-thuraj if the encounters of the armies, in Fin- gal; if the addrefs to the fun, in Carthon ; if the fi- niilies foui:ided upon ghofts and fpirits of the night all formerly mentioned, be not admitted ns examples, and lUuftrious ones too, of the true poetical fubJime,
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 279
I confcfs myfelf entirely ignorant of this quality in writing.
All the circumftances indeed of OfTian's compofi- tion, are favourable to the fublime, more perh:jps than to any other fpecies of beauty. Accuracy and correciinefs ; artfully connefled narration ; exac^ me- thod and proportion of parts, we may look, for in poiiOied times. I^he gay and the beautiful will appear to more advantage in the rnidft of fmilinij fcenery and pleafurable themes. But amidil the rude Icenes of nature, amidft rocks and torrents, and whirlwinds and battles, dwells the fublime. It is the thunder and the lightning of genius. It is tlie ofi^"- ^.pring oi n:iture not of art. It is negligent of all the IclTer graces, and perfeflly confident with a certain noble diforJer. It aiTociates naturally with that grave and folema fpirit which diilinguillies our author. For the fubliiiie. is an awful and ferlous emot;on ; and is heightened by all the images of Trouble, and Tai"- ror, and Darknefs.
Ipfe pater, media nimborum in no£\e, conifca Fulmiiia molitur dcxtra; quo maxima motu Ten a tremit ; fugere ferss; & mortalla corJa Per gentes, liumilis ftravit pavor; illc, flagranti Aiit Atho, aut Rhodopen, aut alta Ceraunia telo
Dejicit. ViKG. Georg. I.
Simplicitv and concifenefs, are never-failirrg chrj- ra'!leriiiic3 of the ftyle of a fublime writer. He re(h on the majefty of his fehtiments, not on flie pomp of his exprelHons. The rn:iin fecret of being fublime, is to fay great things in few and in plain words : For every fupertluous decoration degrades a fublime idea. 1 he mind rifes and fwelis, when a lofty defcripiion or fentiment is prefented to it, in its native form. But no fjoner does the poet at- tempt to fpreaJ out this fentiment or defcription, and to deck it round and round with glittering orna- ments thjj.n iha mwzd begins to fall from its higli A a 2 elevation
iSo A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
elevation; the tranfport is over; the beautiful may remain, but the fubiime is gone. Hence the concife nnd fimple 0yle of Offian, gives great advantage to his fubiime conceptions; and aflilTs them in feizing the imagination with full power*.
Sublimity, as belonging to fentiment, coincides in a great meafure with magnanimity, heroifm, and ee- nerofity of fentiment. Whr-tever difcovers human nature in its greatefi: elevation ; whatever bcfpeaks a high effort of foul ; or fhews a mind fuperior to p!ea- fures, to dangers, and to death, forms what may be called the moral or fcntimental fubiime. For this, Oflian is eminently diilinguijhcd. No poet main- tains a higher tone of virtuous and noble fentiment, throughout all his works. Particularly in all the fentiments of Fingal, there is a grandeur and loftinefs proper to fwell the mind with the higheft ideas of human perfedion. Wherever he appears, we be-
liold
* The noted faying of Julius Cse.^ar, to the pilot in a Horm : " Qiiid times? Csfarum vehis;" is maganimous and fubiime. Lucan, not fatkned with this f:rr-fe con- cifcnefs, relblvcd to amplify and improve the thought, Obferve, liow every time he twifts it round, it dcp.Trts farther from the fi;bHme, till, at kit, it ends in tumid de-» . clamation.
Sperne minas, inquit, Pelagi, ventoq;;e fucenti Trade fmum. I'taliam, fi coelo audore, recufas, Me, pete. Sola tibi caufa hsec eft julla timoris Veftorcni ncn noffe tuiim ; quern numina nur.quam Denituunt ; de quo male tunc fortuna meretur, Cum poll vota vcnit; medias penUmpe procellas Tutcia ferure mea. Coeli ifle fretique, Noil puppis noftrae, labor eft. Haiic Carfare prcfT.;;!! A fluclu defendit onus.
Qjiid tanta ftrage paratur,
Tgnoras ? Qusrit pelagi caEliquc tumultu QjLiid pisllct foiluua ir.lhi.
Phahs.^l. V. ^78.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. iS I
hold the hero. The objeds which he purfues, are always truly great ; to bend the proud ; to proleiSl the injured; to defend his friends; to overcome his enemies by generofuy more than by force. A por- tion of the fame fpirit adtuates all tlie other l;eroes. Valour reigns ; but it is a generous v<i!our, void of cruelty, animated by honour, not by hatred. We behold no debafing paffions among Fingal's war- rior's; no fpirit of avarice or of infult; but a perpe- tual contention for fame ; a defire of being diilln- guiihed and remembered for gallant actions ; a love of juftice; and a zealous attachment to their friends and their country. Such is the ftrain of fentimcnt in the works of Ofilan.
But the fublimity of moral fentiments, if they wanted the foftening of the tender, would be in ha- zard of giving a hard and ftiff air to poetry. It is not enough to admire. Admiration is a cold feeling, in comparifon of that deep intereft, which the heait lakes in tender and pathetic fcenes ; wliere, by a myfterious attachment to the objects of compaffionj we aie pleafed and delighted, even whilll we mourn. With fcenes of this kind, Offian abounds; and his high merit in thefe, is inconteftible. He may be blamicd for drawing tears too often from our eyes ; but that he has the power of commanding them, f believe no man, who has the Icaft fenfibility, will queflion. The general character of his poetry, is the heroic, mixed with the elegiac ftrain ; admirationj, tempered with pity. Ever fond of giving, as he ex- preftes it, " the joy of grief," it is vifible, that on all moving fubje<Ss, he delights to exert his genius; and accordingly, never were there finer pathetic fitu- ations, than what his works prefcnt. His great art in managing them, lies in giving vent to the funple and natural emotions of the heart. We meet with . no exaggerated declamation ; no fubtile refinements '^onforrowj no fubilitution of defcription in place c£ A a 3 pafliofis.
28a A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
paffion. Offian felt ftrongly himfelf ; and the lieart, when uttering its native language, never fails, by- powerful fympathy, to afFeiR: the heart. A great va- riety of examples might be produced. We need on- ly open the book to find them every where. What, for inftance, can be more moving, than the lamenta- tions of Oithona? after her misfortune? Gaul, the fon of Morni, her lover, ignorant of what (he had fviffered comes to her refcue. Their meeting is ten- der in the higheft degree. He propofes to engage her foe, in fingle combat, and gives her in charge what /he is to do, if he himfelf Ihall fall. « And Hiall *' the daughter of Nuath live? (he replied with " a burfting figh. Shall I live in Tromathon and *' the fan of Morni low ? My heart is not of that " rock-, nor my foul carelefs as that fea, wl.ich lifts *' its blue waves to every wind, and rolls beneath the " ftorm. The blaft, which (hall lay thee low, (hall ** fpread the branches of Oithona on earth. We '* (hall wither together, fon of carborne Morni ! The *' narrow houfe is pleafant to me ; and the gray (^one *' of the dead ; for never more will I leave thy rock?, *' fea-funounded Tromathon! Chief of Strumon, " why earned thou over the waves to Nuath's *' mournful daughter ? Why did not I pafs away in " fecret like the flower cf the rock, that lit^ts its fair « heed unfeen, ?nd firews its withered leaves on the " blaft! Why didft thou come, O Gaul! to hear *♦ my departing figh ? O had I dwelt at Duvranna, " in the bright beams of my fame ! Then had *' my years corne on with joy ; and the virgins '* would blcfj. my (teps. But I fall in youth, fon " of Morni, and my father (hall blu(h in his hall ?" Oithona mourns like a woman; in CuchuUin's exprefiions of grief, after his defeat, we behold the fentiments of a hero, generous but defponding. The fituation is remarkably (ine. Cuchulhn, roufed from his cave by the noife of battle, fees Fingal victorious in the field. He is defcribed as kindling at the fight,
" His
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 283
" His hand is on the fword of his fathers ; his red- " rolling eyes on the foe. He thrice attempted to " ru(h to battle; and thrice did Connal ftop him i" fuggefting that Fingal was routing the foe ; and that he ought not, by the (how of fuperfiuous aid, to de- prive the king of any part of the honour of a vidory, which was owing to him alone. Cuchullin yields to this generous fentiment ; but we fee it flinging him. to the heart with the fcnfe of his own difgrace. " Then, Carril, go, replied the chief, and greet the " king of Morven. When Lochlin falls away like " a ftream after rain, and the noife of the battle is " over, then be thy voice fweet in his ear, to praife *' the king of fwords. Give him the fword of Caith- " bat ; for Cuchullin is worthy no more to lift the " arms of his fathers. But, O ye ghofts of the lone- " ly Cromla! Ye fouls of chiefs that are no more ! " Be ye the companions of Cuchullin, and talk to " him in the cave of his forrow. For never more " (hall 1 be renowned among the mighty in the land. " I am like a beam that has (hone: Like a mift that " has fled away ; when the blafi: of the morning « came, and brightened the lliaggy iide of the hill. " Connal ! talk of arms no more: Departed is my ♦■' fame. My fighs (hall be on Ctomla's wind; till «* my foo!(teps ceafe to be feen. And thou, white-bo " fomed Bragela ! mourn over the fall of my fame ; " for vanquilhed, I will never return to thee, thou " fun-beam of Dunfcaich !"
-^Huat Ingens
Uno in corde pudor, ludlufque, et confcia virtus.
Eefides fuch extended pathetic fcenes, Oflian fre- quently pierces the heart by a fingle unexpe<fted ftroke. When Ofcar fell in battle, " No father " mourned his fon flain in youth ; no brother, his " brother of love; they fell without tears, for the *' chief of the people was low." In the admirable
fixth Iliad,
2»4 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
Il:ad, the circumftance of the child in his nurfe's arms, has often been remarked, as adding much ta the tendernefs of the fcene. In the following paflage relating to the death of Cuchullin, we find a circuni- , ftance that muft ftrike the imagination with ilill great- er force. "^ And is the fon of Semo fallen ? faid " Carril with a figh. Mournful are Tara's walls, ^ and forrow dwells at Dunfcaich. Thy fpoufe is left " alone in her youth; the fon of thy Jove is alone. " He Ihall come to Bragela, and afx her why flie " weeps? Ke fi^all lift his eyes to the wall, and " fee his father's fword. Whofe fword is that? " he will fay ; and the foul of his mother is fad." Soon after Fingal had (hewn all the grief of a fa- ther's heart for Ryno, one of his fons, fallen in battle, he is calling, after his accuflomed manner, his fons to the chafe. " Call," fays he, " Fillan " and Ryno — But he is not here— My fon refts on " the bed of death." This unexpedled i^art of an- guifh is worthy of the higheft tragic poet. If (lie come in, flie'll lure fpeak to my wife — My wife ! — my wife — What wife ? — 1 have no wife — Oh infupportable ! Oh heavy hour !
OtheUo, A(S 5. Scene 7.
The contrivance of the incident in both poets is umilarj but the circumftances are varied with judge- ment. Othello dwells upon the name of wife, when it had fallen from him, with the confufion and horror of one tortured with guilt. Fingal, with the dignity of a hero, correifs hirnfelf, and fupprefTes his rifing grief.
1 he contraft which Ofiian fiequently makts be- tween his prefent and his former liate, diffufes over his whole poetry, a folemn pathetic air, which cannot fail to make impreffion on every heart. The con- clufion of the fongs of Selma, is particularly calcu- lated for this purpofe. Nothing can be more poetical and tender, or can leave upon the mind a ftronger and more affe£iing idea of the venerable aged bard.
" Such
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 285
" Such were the words of the bards in the days of " therong; when the king heard the mufic of harps, *' and the tales of other times. The chiefs gathered " from all their hills, and heard the lovely found. " They praifed the voice of Cona*; the ftrl^ among " a thoufand bards. But age is now on my tongue, " and mv foul has failed. I hear, fometimes, the " ghofls of bards, and learn their pleafant fong. But " memory fails on my mind ; I hear the call of " years. They fay, as they pafs along ; Why does " Olfian fing ? Soon fhall he lie in the narrow houfe, " and no bard fliall raife his fame. Roll on, ye dark " brown years ! for ye bring no joy in your courfe. " Let the tomb open to Offian, for his ilrength has '' faiJed. The fons of the fong are gone to reft. My " voice remains like a blaft, that roars lonely on a " fea-furrounded rock, after the winds are laid. The " dark mofs whiftles there, and the dilbnt mariner " fees the waving trees."
Upon the whole; if to feelftrongly, and to defcribe naturally, be the two chief ingredients in poetical ge- nius, Offian muft, after fair examination, be held to poflefs that genius in a high degree. The queltion is rot, whether a few improprieties may be pointed out in his works ; whether this, or that paltage, might not have been worked up with more art and fkill, by foine writer of happier times? A thoufand fuch cold and frivolous criticifms, are altogether indecifive as to his genuine merit. But, has he the fpirit, the fire, the infpiration of a poet ? Docs he utter the voice of nature? Does he elevate bv his fentiments ? Does he intereft by his defcriptions? Does he paint to the heart as well as to the fancy, Does he make his readers glow, and tremble, and w^ep ? Thefe are the great charafteriftics of true poetry. Where thefe are found, he mvift be a minute critic indeed, who can dwell upon flight defers. A few beauties
of * Oilian himfelf is poetically called the voice ol Cona.
^86 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION
of this high kind, tranfcend wliole volumes of fault- hfs mediocrity. Uncouth and abrupt, Oliian may fometimes appear by reafon of his concifenefs. But he is fublime, he is pathetic, in an eminent degree. U he has not the exteniive knowledge, the regular dig- nity of narration, the fulBefs and accuracy of defcrip- tion, which we find in Homer and Virgil, yet in flrength of imagination, in grandeur of fentiment, in native majefty of pafiion, he is fully their equal. If he flows not always like a clear fiream, yet he breaks forth often like a torrent of fire. Of art too, he is far from being defiitute ; and his imagination is remarkable for delicacy as well as flrength. Seldom or never is he either trifling or tedious ; and if he be thought too melancholy, yet he is always moral. 'I ho' his merit were in other refpeds much lefs than it is, this alone ought to entitle liim to hig'i regard, that his writings are remarkably favourable to virtue. They awake the tendereft fympathies, and infpire the moft generous emotions. No reader can rife from him, without being warmed with the fentiments of humanity, virtue, and honour.
Though unacquainted with the original language^ there is no one but muft judge the tranflation to de- ferve the hlghefl praife on account of its beauty and elegance.
Of its faithfulnefs and accuracy, I have been af- fured by perfons fkilled in the Galic tongue, who, from their youth, were acquainted with many of thefe poems of Offian. To transfufe fuch fpirited and fervid ideas from one language into a another; to trandate literally, and yet with fuch a glow of poetry ;. to keep alive fo mucii palfion, and fupport io much dignity throughout, is one of the moll: difficult works of genius, and proves the tranflator to have been animated with no fnall portion of OlTian's fpirir.
The meafured profe which he has employed, pof- kQks confiderable advantages above any fort of verfi-
fication.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 20/
fication he could have chofen. Whilft it pleafes and fills the ear with a variety of harmonious cadences, be- ing, at the fame rime, freer from conftraint in the choice and arrangement of words, it allows the fpirit of the original to be exhibited with more juftnefs, force, and fimplicity. Llegant, however, and mafterly as Mr. Macpherfon's tranilation is, we muft never forgef, whilft we read it, tliat we are putting the merit of the original to a fevere teil. P or, we are examining a pott (tripped of his native drefs: divefled of the harmony of his own numbers. We know how much grace and energy the works of the Greek and Latin poets receive from the charm of verfifica- tion in their original languages, if-, then, defiitute of this advantage, exhibited in a literal verfion, OiTian ftill has power to pleafe as a poet ; and not to pleafe only, but often to command, to tranfport, to melt the heart i we may very fafely infer, that his produc- tions are th.e offspring of true and uncommon genius i and we may boldly allign him a piace among thofe whofe works are to hd for ages.
CRITICAL
CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
ON THE
POEMS OF O S S I A N
Vol. it. B b
CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
POEMS OF O S S I A N
IN additlop. to the dilTcitations already given, which are ufually found accompanying the Poems of Offian, it is prefumed that it will not be unaccepta- ble to the reader, to fee what another celebrated Phi- Icfophsr and Critic has laid on tlie fuhject. He has put the matter in a difFcrcnt light from thofe who liave written before him, and his criticifms and re- marks will be found to be original, judicious, and highly pleaung ; as a procf of tins, the following ex- trafts are given :
" From a thoiifand circiimilances, it appears, tliat i;ie works of OfTian are not a late production. They are compofed hi an old dialect of the Celtic tongue ; and as, tiil lately, they were known only in the High- lands of Scotland, the author mufl have been a Ca- ledonian. The tranflator^^ faw, in the ille of Sky, the hrft four bocks of the poem Flnga!, written iri a fair hand on vellum, and bearing d:^:^ in the year 1 403. The natives believe that poem to be very ancient : every perfon has paflages of it by hearr, tranfir.itted by memory from their forefathers. Their dogs bear comirionly the name of Lua//i, B>an^ he. ■B 3 mentioned
* Mr. ^larplierfmi.
292 CRITICAL 03; E R V ATIONS
mentioned in thefe poems,, as our dogs do of Pom/^ry and C:rfnr*'. Many other particulars might be men- tioned ; but thefe are fufncient to prove that the work rnuft have exiiied at leaft three or four centuries. Tsking that for granted, I proceed to certain ccnfider- Etions tending to evince, that the manners defcribed in Ofilan were Caledonian manners, and not a pure iiclion. And, after ptrufing viiih attention tljcfc confiderations, I am not cifraid tl^^t even the moll incredulous will continue altogether unlliakcn.
It is a noted and v.eU-foundcd obfervaticn, That manners are never panted to the Jife by any one to wiiom they are not familiar. It is not difficult to draw the' outlines of imag'nary manners; but to fil up the piilure with all the variety of tints that manners aflame in different circumftunces, unitirg all concordantly in one whole — hk labcr^ Iwc cfus fj}. Yet the manners here fuppofed to be inven- ted, are delineated in a variety of incidents, offenti- mcnt?, of images, and of allufions, making one en- tire piifiure, without once devhating into tiiC llighr- eil incongruity. Every fccne in Ollian relates to hunting, to fighting, or to love, the fole occupations of meiT^in the original fiate of fcciety : there is not a lingle image, fimilej or allufion, but what is borrov^'- cd from tliat ftate, without a jarring circumflance. — Suppofmg all to be mere invention, is it net amazing to find no mention of Highland Clans, or of any name novv in ufe? fs it not Hill more amazing, that tliere is not the uighteft hint of tlie Chriftian reli- gion, not even in a m.etaphcr or allulion ? Is it not
equally
* 111 the ifls of Sky, the ruins of th.e caQle of Diin- fcaich, upon ?biupt rock hanging over the fea, are fill I vlfible. That caflle, as vouched by tradition, belonged to CuchuUin Lord of that Ille, whofe, hiRory is recordrd ill the Poan of Pingal. Upon the green, before the caflle,' ihere is a great ftonc, to which, according to the fame tradition, his dog Luath was chained..
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 293
equally amazing, that, in a work where deer's fleHi is frequently mentioned, and a curious metl;od of roafting it, there (liould not be a word of fifn 35 food, (o common in later times ? Very few Migh- - landers know that their fore fathers did not eat fidi ; and fuppoiing it to be known, it would require iln- guiar attention, never to let a hint of it enter the poem. Can it be fuppofed, that a modern writer could be fo conllantly on his guard, as never to men- tion corn nor cattle ? In a ftory (o Scanty of poetical iaiages, the fedentary life of a fliepherd, and the in- duftry of a huibandman would make a capital figure: the cloven foot would foniewhere peep out. And yet, in all the works of OiTian, there is no mention of agriculture; and but a flight hint of a herd of cattle in one or t ao allufions. I willingly give all advan- tages to the unbeliever: Suppofing the author of Offian to be a late writer, adorned with every re- finement of modem education ; y-^ even upon that fuppofition, he is a miracle, far from being equalled. by any other author ancient or modern.
But difficulties multiply when it is taken in''o the account, that the poems of Offian have exiited three or four centries at leall. Our Highlanders at prefent are rude and illiterate ; and were in fa£l little better than favages at the period mentioned. Now, to hold the manners defcribed in that work to be ima- g'.nary, is in effect to hold that they were invented by a Higliland favage, acquainted with the rude man- ners of his country, but utterly unacquainted \v\ih. every other fyllem of manners. The. manners of different countries are now fo well known as to make it an eafy tafk to invent inar.ners by blending the manners of one country with thofe of another ; but to invent manners of which the author has no exam- ple, and vet neither whimfical nor abfurd, but con- gruous to human nature in its moft polilhed ftate, I pronounce to be far above the povvers of ma:i. Is it B b 3, ib.
294 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
To mucli as fuppofable, that fuch a work could be the production of a Tartar or of a Hottentot ? Froi7^ vlip.t fource then did Offian draw the refined man- ners (o deHcioully painted by him ? Suppofing him to have been a traveller, of which we have not the lligiitcil hint, the manners of France at that period, cf Italy, and of other neighbouring nations, were lit- tle lefs baibarous than thofe of his own country. [ can difcover no fource hut infpiration. In a word, wlioever feriouily believes the manners of Oflian to l-c fiditicus, may well fay, with the religious enthufiafl-, " CieJo quia imtrJJblle ejl : i believe it becaufe it is " impoffible."
But farther: The uncommon talents cf the au- thor of this work will cheerfully be acknowledged by every reader of tafte : he certainly was a great mafter in his way. Now, whether the work be late, cr ccm- pofcd four centuries ago, a man cf fuch talents in- venting a hifiorical fable, and laying the fcene of ac- tion among the favages in the hunter- ftate, would naturally frame a fyftem of mannett", the beft fuited in his opinion to that ftate. What then could tempt him to sdcpt a fyi^em cf manners, fo oppofite to any notion he could form of favage manners ? Tlie ab- furdity is fo grofs, that we are forced, however re- lu6iantly, to believe, that thefe manners are not fic- titious, but in reality tr.e manners of his country, co- loured perhaps, or a little heightened, according to the privilege of an epic poet. And once admitting I hat fa(5^, tlicrc can be no hesitation in afcribing the work to Ofi'an, fon of Fingal, whofe name it beat 5. r we have no better evidence for the authors of fevcral Greek and Roman books. Upon the fame evidence, we muft believe, that Cffian lived in the reign of the Emperor Caracalla, of whom frequent mention is made under the defignation of Caracul the Great King ; nt which period, tl:e Ihepherd-ftate was fcarce known !4i Ca'cdon'sj and hufoandry not at all. Ha-j he
lived
ON THE P0E.\:3 OF OSSIAN'. 295
Jived fo hte as the twelfrh century, when there were flocks and herds in that country, and fome fort of agriculture, a poet of genius, fuch as OlTian undoub- tedly was, would liave drawn from thefe his finel^ images.
The foregoing confiderations, I am perfuaded, would not fail to convert the moft incredulous ; were it not for a confequence extremely improbable, that a people, little better at prefent than favages, were in their primitive hunter-fixate highly refined ; for fuch Offian defcribes them. And yet it is no lefs impro- bable, that fuch manners fhould be invented by an iiiirerate Highland bard. Let a man chufe either fide, the difficulty cannot be folved but by a fort of miracle. What ihall we conclude upon the whole ? for the mind cannot forever remain long in fufpenfe. As dry reafoning has left us in a dilemma, tafte perhaps and feeling may extricate us. May not the cafe be here :is in real painting ? A portrait drawn from fancy may refeuible the liuman vifage; but fuch peculiarity of countenance and exprefllon as ferves to dilfinguilh 2 certain perfcn from every other, is always wanting, Prefent a portrait to a man of tafte, and he will be at no lofs to fay, whether it be copied from life, or be the product of fancy. If Offian paint from fancy, the cloven foot will appear : but if his portraits be complete, fo as to exprefs every peculiarity of cha- racter, why fliould we doubt of their being copied from life? In that view, the reader,.! am hopeful, will not think his time thrown away in examining fome of Cflian's itriking pictures. I perceive not a- nother refource.
Love c{ fame is painted by Offian as the ruling paflion of his countrymen the Caledonions. War- riors are every wheie defcribed, as efteeming it their chief happinefs to be recorded in the fongs of the hards : that feature is never wanting in any of Of- fian's heroes, 'i'skc the following inlbnces: "King
'' ot
296 CRITICAL OBSERv'ATIONS
" of the roaring Strumon, faid the rifing joy of Fin- " gal, do I behold thee m arms after thy ftrengch has •' failed ? Often hath Morni flione in battles, like " the beam of the rifing fun, when hedifpeifes the *■'• ftorms of the hill, and brings peace to the glitter- " ing fields. But why didrt thou not reft in thine age ? " Thy renown is in the fong: Tlie peopJe behold " thee, and blefs the departure of mighty Morni*." ••' Son of Fingal, he faid, why burns the foul of " Gaul .? My heart beats high : my fbeps are difor- " dered ; and my hand tiembles on my fword. " When I look toward th.e foe, tny foul lightens be- " fore me, and I fee their Heeping hoft. Tremble " thus the fouls of the valiant, in battles of the " fpear? How would the foul of Morni rife, if we " (hould rulh on the foe! Our renown would grow " in the fong, and our fieps be ftately in the eye of " li^.e brave."
That a warrior has acquired his fame is a confola- tion in every diftrefs : " Carril," faid the king in fe- cret, " tlie llrength of Cuchullin fails. My days " are with the years that are pall 5 and no morning " of mine (hall arife. They (hall feek me at Temo- " ra, but I ihall not be found. Cormac will weep " in his hall, and fay, Where is Tura's chief? But '' my name is renowned, my fame in the fong of " bards. The youth will fay, O let me die as Cu- " chullin died: renown clothed him like a robe; and " the light of his fame is great. Draw the arrow " from my fide ; and lay Cuchullin below that oak. " Place the Hiield of Caith.bat near, that they may " behold me amid the arms of my fathers f." Fin- gal fpeaks : " Ullin, my aged bard, take the Oiip of '' the king. Carry Ofcar to Selma, and let the " daughters of Morven weep. We ihail fight in " Erin for the race of fallen Cormac. The days of .
" my
* La:hraon. f The death of Cuthiillin.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 297
" my years begin to fail : I feel the weaknefs of my " arm. My fathers bend from their clouds to re- " ceive their gray-hair'd fon. But, Trenmorc! be- " fore I go hence, one beam of my fame fhall rife : " in fame Ihall my days end, as my years begun: my *' life Ihall be one ftream of light to other times *." Olfian fpeaks : " Did thy beauty hdy O Ryno ! " ilocd \hc ilrength of car-borne Ofcar f ! Fingal ' Iiimfelf pafled away, and the halls of his fathers " forgot his llcps. And H^ialt t!;ou remain, aged " bard, wlien the mighty have failed ? But my " fanie fhall remain ; and grow like the oak of Mor- " ven, which lifts its broad head to the ftorm, and *' rejoiceth in the courfe of the wind J.
1 he chief caufe of afflidion when a young man is cut off in battle, is h.is not having received his fame: " And fell the fwiftcfi in the race, faid the king, the " firft to bend the bow? Thou fcarce hail been *' known to me; why did young Ryno fall ! But fleep " thou foftly on Lena, Fingal ihall foon behold thee. " Soon Ihail iny voice be heard no more, and my « footlieps ceafe to be fecn. The bards will tell of " Fingal'sname; the fiones will talk of me. Bur, *' Ryno! thou ait low indeed, thou hart not received " thy fame, U'lin, Arike the harp for Ryno; tell " wi'ut the chief would have been. Farewel thou " firft in every field. No more fhall I dire^St thy " dart. Thou that haft been fo fair; I behold thee " not. — Farewel ||." " Calthon rufhed into the *' ftream: I bounded forward on my fpear ; Tevitha's " race fell before us : n'ght came rolling down. Dun- '^ thalmo rcftcd on a rock, amidft an aged wood :
" the
* Temora.
f Scvcnd of Offian's heroes are dcfcnbcd as fighting
in cars. The Britons, in gciier&l, fought in that man-
rer : " The Britons figlit, not only with cavalry, or foot,
" but alfo wiili cars and chariots." Pomp. Mehi.
I Berrathon. 1) Fingal.
29S CRITICAL CBSERVATIUKS
" the rage of his bofom burned againfl: the car-borne " Calthon. But Cahhon ftood in his grief; he " mourned the fallen Colmar; Cohnar lla'n^in youth, " before his fanie arofe*."
Lamentation for iofs of fame. Cuchullin fpeaks : " But O ye ghofts of the lonely Cromla ! ye fouls of " chiefs that are no more ! be ye the companions of " Cuchullin, and talk to him in the cave of his for- " row. For never more fliall I be renowned among " the mighty in the land. I am like a beam that " has ihone; like a mift that tied away when the " blaft of the morning came, aiid brightened the " Hiaggy fide of the hill. Connal, talk of arms no " more ; departed is my fame. My fighs fhail be " on Cromla's wind, till m.y footfteps ceafe to be " fcen. And thou, white-bofomed Bragela, mourn *' over the fall of my fame; for, vanquiflied, never vv-iH " I return to thee, thou fun- beam of Dunfcaich f ."
Love of fame begets heroic anions, which go hand in hand with elevated fentiments : of the for- mer there are examples in every pa^ie ; of the latter take the following examples: " And let him come, " replied the king. I love a foe like Cathmor : his " foul is great; his arm his ftrong ; and his battles " full of fame. But the little foul is like a vapour " that hovers round the marfliy lake, which never " fifes on th.e green hill, left the winds meet it " there |." Olfian fpeaks : " But let us tly, fon of " Morni, Lathmon dcfcends the hill. Then let our " fteps be ilow, replied the fair-hair'd Gaul, leil tlie " foe fay with a fmile, Behold the warrior's of nighr: " they are like ghofts, terrible in darkneis; but they " melt away before the beam of the Kart ||," Son of " the feeble hand, faid Lathmon, (hall my hoii de- " Icend ! Thsy are but two, and fhall a thouland
* Cakhon and Colmnr. f Flnga!. \ Lathmon
!) Lathmon.
ON THE POEiMS CF OSSIAN. 299
*' lift their fted ! Nuah would mourn in his hall for *' the departure of Lathmon's fame : his eyes would " turn from Lathmon, when the tread of his feet ap- " preached. Go thou to the heroes, fon of Dutha, " for I behold the frately fteps of Offian. His fame " h\s worthy of my fteel : let him fight with Lath- " mon *." Fingal does not delight in battle, though *' his arm is ftrong. My renown grows on the fall '' of the IiaUghty : the lightning of my fteel pours on " the proud m arms. The battle comes ; and the " tombs of the valiant rife; the tombs of my people " rife, O my fathers ! and I at laft muft remain alone. " But I will remain renowned, and the departure of " my foul lliail be one llream of light f." " I raifed " my voife for Fovar-gormo, when they laid the ■•' chief in earth." " The aged Crothar was there, *' but his figh was not heard. He fearched for the " wound of his fon, and found it in his breaft : joy •' arofe in the face of the aged : he came and fpoke *' to Offian : King of fpears, my fon hath not fallen " without his fame : the young warrior did not fly, " but met death as he went forward in his ftrength. " Ro-ppy are they who die in youth, when their re- " nown is heard : their memory fiiall be honoured " in the fong ; the young tear of the virgin falls J." *< Cuchullin kindled at the fight, and darknefs ga- " thered on his brow. Kis hand v>as on tlie fwoid " of his fathers : his red-rolling eye on the foe. He " thrice attempted to rufli to battle, and thrice did " Connal fkp. Chief of the ifle of mift, he faid "_ Fingal fubdues the foe ; feek not a past of the fame " cf the king§."
The pictures that Cfnan drav.s of his country- men, are no lefs remarkable for tender fentiments than for elevation. Parental afFe£tion is finely couch- ed in the following paffage : "Eon of Comhal, re-
'' plied
* Lathiiiori. f Lathinoii :j: Croma. § Fingal.
300 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
" plied the chief, the ftrength of Morni's arm has " failed. I attempt to draw tlie fvvord of my youth, *' but it remains in its place: I throw the fpear, but " it falls fhort of the mark; and I feel the weight " of my (hield. We decay like the grafs of the " mountain, and our ftrength returns no more. I *' have a fon, O Fingal ! his foul has delighted in the " actions of Morni's youth; but his fword has not " been lifted againft the foe, neither has his fame *' begun. I come with him to battle, to direeft his " arm. His renown will be a fun to my foul, in " the dark hour of my departure. O that the name " of Morni were forgot among the people, O that " the heroes would only fay, Behold the father of « Gaul*.
And no Icfs finely touched is grief for the lofs of children ; " We faw Ofcar leaning on his fhield ; we '' hv/ his blood around. Silence darkened on the " face of every hero: each turned his back and wept. « The king ftrove to hide his tears. He bends his " head over his fon; and his words are mixed with " lighs. And art thou fallen, Ofcar, in the midll " of thy courfe ! the heart of the aged beats over " thee. I fee thy coming battles : I behold the bat- " ties that ougiit to come, but they are cut of from " thy fame. When fhail joy dwell at Selma ? when " fhall the fong of grief ceafe on Morven ? My fon' " falls by degrees, t'ingal will he the laft of his race. " The famel have received fnall pafs away: my age " fhall be without friends. I (hall fit like a grey *' cloud in my hall: nor fnall I expect the return of " a fon with his founding arms. Weep, ye heroes ''• of Morven; never more will Ofcar rife f."
Crothar fpeaks : " Son of Fingal! doli thou not " behold the darknefs of Crothar's hall of fnells? " My foul was not dark at the feaft, when my peo-
« pie
* Lathmon. t Teniora.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 2^^
" pie lived. I rejoiced in the pretence of (Grangers, " when my fon Oione in the hall. But Oflian, he is " a beam that is departed, and left no ftreak of light *' behind. He is fallen, fon of Fingal, in the battles
" of his father Rothmar, the chief of grafTy
" Tromlo, heard that my eyes had failed ; he heard "that my arms were fixed in the hall, and the pride " of his foul arofe. He c?me towards Croma; my « people fell before him. 1 took my arms in the " hall ; but what could fightlefs Crothar do ? My " fteps were unequal ; my grief was great. I wilhed *' for the days that were part, days wherein 1 fouglit, " and won in the field of blood. My (on returned " from the chace, the fair-haired Fovar-gormo. He " had not lifted his fword in battle, for his arm was " young. But the foul of the youth was great ; the " fire of valour burnt in his eyes. He faw the dif- " ordered fteps of his father, and his figh arofe. King *' of Croma, he faid, is it becaufe thou haft no fon; " is it for the weaknefs of Fovar-gormo's arm that " thy fighs arife ? I begin, my father, to feel the *' ftrength of my arm ; I have drawn the fword of " my youth ; and I have bent the bow. Let me " meet this Rothmar with the youths of Croma : *' let me meet him, O my father; for I feel my " burning foul. And thou (halt meet him, I faid, " fon of the fightlefs Crothar ! But let others ad- " vance before thee, that I may hear the tread of thy " feel at thy return ; for my eyes behold thee nor,
" fair-haired Fovar-gormo ? He went, he met
" the foe; he fell. The foe advances towards Cro- " ma. He who flew my foa is near, with all his " pointed fpears *."
The following fentiments about the fhortnefs of
human life are pathetic : " Defolate is the dwelling
" of Moina, filence in the houfe of her fathers. Raife
Vol. II. C c " the
* Croma.
302 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS •
*' the fong of mourning over the ftrangers. One day " we niuft fall ; and they have only fallen before us. «' Vvhy doft thou build the hall, fon of the winged *' days : Thou lookeft from thy towers to day : foon *' will the blaft of the defart come. It howls in thy " empty court, and whiflles over thy half-worn *' fiiield*." " How long fhall we weep on Lena, or '= pour tears on Uliin ! The mighty will not return : '' nor Ofcar. rife in his flrength : The valiant muft *' fall one day, and be no more known. Where are " our fathers, O waniors, the chiefs of the times of '•' old ! They are fet, like flars that have Ihone : we " only hear the found of their praife. But they were *' renowned in their day, and the terror of other " times. Tlius fliall we pafs, O warriors, in the " day of our fall. Then let us be renowned while " we may ; and leave our fame behind us, like the laft " beams of the fun, when he hides his red head in "the weft f."
In Homer's time, heroes were greedy of plunder; and, like robbers, were much difpofed to infult a vanquifhed foe. According to Ofllan, the ancient Caledonians had no idea of plunder : and, as they fought for fame oi^iy, their humanity overflowed to the vanquiflied. American favages, it is true, are notaddicSled to plun- der, and are ready to beftow on the firfl comer what triiies they force from the enemy. But they have no notion of a pitched battle, nor of fingle combat : on tiie contrary, they value tliemfelves upon flaughter- ing their enemies by furprife, without rifking their own fweet perfons. Agreeable to the magnanimous character given by Ofilan of his countrymen, we find liumanity blended with courage in all their atSiions -. '■'■ Fingal pitied the white-armed m.aid; he flayed the " uplifted fword. The tear was in the eye of the " king, as bending forward he fpoke: king of ftreamy
" Sora,
* CartLon. t Temora.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 3O3.
" Sora, fear not the Avord of Fingal : It was never " ftained with the blood of the vartquilhed ; it never " pierced a fallen foe. Let thy people rejoice along " the blue waters of Tora : let the maids of thy love "be glad. Why ftiould'ft thou fall in thy youth, « king of ftreamy Sora*."
Fingal fpeaks : " Son of my ftrength, he faid, take " the fpear of Fingal : go to Teutha's mighty Itream, " and fave the car-borne Colniar. Let thy fame re- " turn before thee lik€ a pleafant gale ; that my foul " may rejoice over my fon, who renews the renown " of our fathers. Oiiian ! be tiiou a ftorm in battle, *' but mild where the foes are low. It was thus my " fame aroie, O my fon; and be thou like Selma s " chief. When the haughty come to my hall, my " eyes behold them not, but my arm is fbretched " forth to the unh-ippy, my fwcrd defends the weakt'' " O Ofcar I bend the flrong in arm, but fpare the " feeble hand. Be thou a ftream of many tides " againft the foes of thy people, but like the gale " that moves the grafs to thofe who a(k thy aid. Ne- " ver fearch for the battle, nor iliun it when it comes. *' So Trenmor lived ; fuch Trathal was ; and fuch " has Fingal been. Tvly arm w'as the fupport of the " injured ; and the weak relied behind the lightning " of my fteeU."
Humanity to the vanquifhed is difplayed in the following paiTages. After defeating in battle Swaraa king of Lochlin, Fingal fays, '' Raife, Uilin, raife *' the fong of peace, and foothe my foul after battle, " that my ear may forget the noife of arms. And ♦' let a hundred harps be near to gladen the king of " Lochlin: he muft depart from us with joy : none *' ever went fad from Fingal. Ofcar, the lightning " of my fword is auainfl the ftrong ; but peace- ^ C c 2 " ful
* Gariic-thura. + Calthon and Gonial.
\ Fingal, book 3.
304 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
•' ful it hangs by my fide when warriors yield " in battle *." " Uthal fell beneath my fword, and " the fons of Berathon fled. It was then I faw him *' in his beauty, ai.d the tear hung in my eye. Thou *' art fallen, young tree, I faid, with all thy bud- •' ding beauties round thee. Tlie winds come '* from thedefart, and there is no found in thy leaves. " Lovely art thou in death, fon of car-borne Lath- *• morf."
After perufing thefe quotations, it will not be thought that Oihan deviates from the manners re- prefentcd by him, in defcriblng tl^e hofpitality of his »' chiefiains ; " We heard the voice of joy en the •' coaft, and we thought that the mighty Cathmcr "came; Cathmor, the friend of (Grangers, the bro- " ther of red-hair'd Cairbar. But their fouls were " not the fame; for the light of heaven was in the " bofom of Cathmor. His towers rcfe on the banks " of Atha: fevcn paths led to his hall: kven chiefs " flood on thefe paths, and called the flranger to the " feaff. But Cathmor dwelt in the wood to avoid '* the voice of praifej." Rathmor w^as a ch ef of *'• Clutha. The feeble dwelt in his hail. The gates " of Rathmor were never clofed : his feaf^ was always " fpread. The fons of the flranger came and blelTtd " the generous chief of Clutha. Baids raifed the *' fong, and touched the harp : joy brightened on the " face of the mournful. Dunthalmo came in his " pride, and rufhed into combat with Rathmor. *' The chief of Clutha overcame. The rage of Dun- " thalmo rofe : he came by night with his warriors ; " and the mighty Rathmor fell : he fell in his halJ, " where his feafl had been often fpread for flran- " gers ir"
It feems not to exceed the magnanimity of his chieftains, intent upon glory only, to feaf^ even an ene- my
* Flngal, book 6. f Berathon. 4 Temoia.
II Calthon and Colmal.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 3C5
my before a battle, Cuckullin, after the firft day's engagement with Swaran, king of Lochlin or Scandi- navia, fays to Carril, one of his bards, " Is this feaft *' fpread for me alone, and the king of Lochlin on " Uilin's fhore ; far from the deer of his h.il!s, and " founding halls of his feafts ? Rife, Carril of other "times, and carry my words to Swaran; tell him *' from the roaring of waters, that Cuchullin gives " his feaft. Here let him liften to the found of my " groves amid the clouds of night : for cold and bleak " the bluftering winds rulh over the foam of his feas. " Here let him praife the trembling harp, and hear " tlie fongs of heroes *,"
The Scandinavian king, lefs polifhed, refufed the invitation. Cairbar fpeaks : " Spread the feaft on " Lena, and let my hundred bards attend. And " thou red-hair'd Olla, take the harp of the king. " Go to Ofcar, king of fwords, and bid him to our " feaft. To day we feaft and hear the fong ; to- " morrow break the fpearsf." " Olla came with his " fongs. Ofcar went to Cairbar's feaft. Three " hundred heroes attend the chief, and the clang of " their arms is terrible. The gray dogs bound on " the heath, and their howling is frequent. Fingal " faw the departure of the hero : the foul of the king " was fad. He dreads the gloomy Cairbar: but who " of the race of Trenmor fears the' foe ?t"
Cruelty is every where condemned as an infamous vice. Speaking of the bards, " Cairbar feared to " ftretch his fword to the bards, though his foul was " dark ; but he clofed us in the midft of darknefs. " Three days we pined alone: on the fourth the no- " ble Cathmor came. He heard our voice from the " cave, and turned the eye of his wrath on Cairbar. *' Chief of Atha, he faid, how long wilt thou pain " my foul ? Thy heart is like the rock of the defart, C c 3 " and
* Fingal, book u t Temora. J Temora.-
306 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
" and thy thoughts are dark. But thou art the bro- *' ther of Cathmor, and he will fill fight thy battles. *' Cathmor's foul is not like thine, thou feeble hand of " war. The light of my bofoni is ftained with thy " ikeds. The bards will not frng of my renown : '* tliey may fay, Cathmor was brave, but he fought " for gloomy Cairbar : they will pafs over my tomb *' in filence, and my fame fhall not be heard. Cair- " bar, loofe the bards; they are the fons of other " times: their voice fhall be heard in other ages when " the kings of Temora have failed*." Ullin raifed " his white fails : the wind of the fouth came forth. " He bounded on the waves towards Selma's walls. *' The feaft is fpread on Lena : an hundred heroes '- reared the tomb of C'dirbar ; but no fong is raifed " over the chief, for his foul had been dark and *' bloody. We remembered the fall of Cormac; and " what could we fay in Calrbar's praifef?."
Genuine manners never were reprefented more to- the life by a Tacitus nor a Shakefpeare. Such paint- ing is above the reach of pure invention : it muft be tlic work of knowledge and fteiing.
One may difcover the manners of a nation from the figure their women make. Among favages, wo- men are treated like flaves; and they acquire not the tlignity that belongs to the fex, till manners be con- fiderably be refined. According to the manners a- bove defcribed, women ought to have made a con- fiderable figure among the ancient Caledonions. Let us examine Ofllan upon that lubjeft, in order to judge whether he carries on the fame tone of man- ners through every particular. That women were highly regarded, appears from the following pafTages ■ "Daughter of the hand of fnow ! 1 was not fo " mournful and blind, I was not fo dark and for- *' lorn, when Everallin loved me, Everallin with the
"dark- brown
*• Temorp^. t Tcmcra.
ON THE POEMS OF 0S3IAN. 3O7
" dark-brown hair, the white- bofomed love of Cor- " mac. A thoufand heroes fought the maid, (he de- " nied her love to a thoufand : the fons of t+ie fword " were defpifed; for graceful in her eyes was Offian, " I went in fuit of the maid to Lego's fable furge ; " twelve of my people were there, fons of the dreamy " Morven. We came to Branno friend of ftrangers, " Branno of the founding mail. — From whence, he " faid, are the arms of flee! ? Not eafy to win is the " maid that has denied the blue-eyed fons of Erin. " But bieft be thou, O fon of Fingal, happy is the " maid that waits thee. Though twelve daughters " of beauty were mine, thine were the choice, thou " fon of fame ! Then he opened the hall of the maid, , " the dark-haired Everallin. Joy kindled in our <' breaib of fteel, and bleil the maid of Branno*." " Now Connal, on Cromla's fide, fpoke to the chief " of the noble car. Why that gloom, fon of Semo ? " Our friends are the mighty in battle. And re- " nowned art thou, O warrior ! many were the deaths . " of thy fteel. Often has Bragela met thee, with " blue-rolling eyes of joy; often has flie met her he- " ro returning m the midfl: of the valiant, when his " fword was red with llaughter, and his foes filent in " the field of the tomb. Pleafant to her ears were " thy bards, when thine ailions rofe in the fongf" " But, king of Morven, if I fnall fall, as one time " the warrior muft fall, raife my tomb in the midft, " and let it be the greateft on Lena. And fend over *' tlie dark- blue wave the fword of Orb, to the fpoufe " of his love; that fhe may fhow it to her fon, with " tears to kindle his foul to war." *' I lifted my " eyes to Cromla, and 1 faw the fon of generous Se- " me. Sad and ilow he retired from his hill toward " the lonely cave of Tura. He faw Fingal vi6tori- ''• oi;s, and mixed his joy with grief. The fun is
" bright
'• Fingal, book 4. t Tlngal, book 5,
308 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
" bright on his armour, and Connal ilowly followed. " They funk behind the hill, like two pillars of the *' fire of night, when winds purfue thein over the " mountain, and the flaming heath refounds. Be- " fide a ftream of roaring foam, his cave is in a rock. " One tree bends above it; and the rufliing winds " echo againft its fides. There refts the chief of " Dunfcaich, the fon of generous Semo. His thoughts " are on the battles he loft ; and the tear is on his " cheek. He mourned the departure of his fame, " that fled like the mift of Cona, O Eragela, thou " art too far remote to cheer the foul of the hero. *' But let him fee thy bright form in his foul ; that " his thoughts may return to the lovely fun-beam of " Dunfcaich*." " Oflian, king of fwords, replied " the bard, thou befl: raifed the fong. Long haft *' thou been known to Carril, thou ruler of battles. " Often have 1 touched the harp to lovely Everallin. " Thou, too, haft often accompanied my voice in *' Branno's hall of fhells. And often amidft our " voices was heard the mildeft Everallin. One day *' fhe fung of Cormac's fall. The youth that died *' for her love. I faw the tears on her cheek, and on •' thine, thou chief of men. Her foul was touched " for the unhappy, though fhe loved him not. How *' fair among a thoufand maids, was the daughter of "the generous Brannof." It was in the days of *' peace, r-eplied the great Cleflamor, I came in my " bounding fliip to Balclutha's walls of towers. The *' winds had roared behind my fails, and Clutha's " ftreams received my dark-bofomed veflel. Three " days I remained in Reuthamir's halls, and faw that " beam of light, his daughter. The joy of the (hell *' went round, and the aged hero gave the fair. Her " breafts were like the foam on the wave, and her *' eyes like ftars of light : her hair was dark as the
*' raven's
* Flngal, book 5. + Ibid,
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 3O9
'' raven's wing: her foul was generous and mild. My " love for Moina was great ; and my heart poured •' forth in joy *." " 1 he fame of OlFian (hall rife ; " his deeds (hall be like his father's. Let us rufh in " our arms, fon of Morni, let us rufh to battle. — " Gaul, if thou fhalt return, go to Selma's lofty hall. " Tell Everallin that I fell with fame : carry the " fword to Branno's daughter: let her give it to " Ofcar, when the years of his youth (hall arifef."
Next to war, love makes the principal figure: and well it may ; for, in OlHan's poems, it breathes eve- ry thing fweet, tender, and elevated, " On Lubar's " graffy banks they fought ; and Grudar fell. Fierce " Cairbar came to the vale of the echoing Tura,, " where Braflblis, faireft of his lifters, all alone raifed " the fong of grief. She fung the adtions of Grudar, •' the youth of her fecret foul : (he mourned him in '• the lield of blood ; but ftill (he hoped his return. " Her white bofom is feen from her robe, as \\\c *' moon from the clouds of night: her voice was " fofter than the harp, to raife the fong of grief: her " foul was fixed on Grudar, the fecret look, of her " eye was his j when wilt thou come in thine arms, " thou mighty in the war ? Take Braflblis, Cairbar '* faid, take this (hield of blood : fix it on high with- " in my hall, the armour of my foe. Ker (oft heart " beat againll her fide : di(\ra6led, pale, (he flew, and " found her youth in his blood. She died on Crom- " la's heath. Here refts their du(i, Cuchuliin ; and " thefe two lonely yews, fprung from tiieir tombs, " wi(h to meet on high. Fair was Brafibiis on the " plain, and Grudar on the hill. The bard (liall " preferve their names, and repeat them to future « times %." " Pleafant is thy voice, O Carril, faid the ^- blue-eyed chief of Erin ; and lovely are the words *' of other times : they are like the calm fnower of
* Carthon. + Lathmon. i Fmgal, book i.
310 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
*' fpring, when the fun looks on the field, and the light *' cloud flies over the hill. O ftrike the harp in praife of *' my love, the lonely fun-beam of Dunfcaich: rtrike " the harp in praife of Bragela, whom I left in the ifle *' of mifl, the fpoufe of Semo's fon. Doft thou raife " thy fair face from the rock to find the fails of Cu- " chullin ? the fea is rolling far diflant, and its white " foam will deceive thee for my fails. Retire, my *' love, for it is night, and the dark winds figh in thy *• hair : retire to the hall of my feafis, and think of " times that are pafij for I will not return till the *' ftorm of war ceafe. O Connal, fpeak of war and *' arms and fend her from my mind ; for lovely *' with her raven hair is the white- bofomed daughter " of Sorglan*."
Malvina fpcaks : " But thou dwellefl: in the foul " of Malvina, fon of mighty Oflian. My fighs arife " with the beam of the eafl^, my tears defcend with " the drops of the night. I was a lovely tree in thy " prefence, Ofcar, with all my branches round me : *' Ijut thy death came like a blaft from the defart, an<l *' laid my green head low: the fpring returned with *' its fhowers, but of me not a leaf fprung. The " virgins faw me filent in the hall, and they touch- " ed the harp of joy. The tear was on the cheek " of Malvina, and the virgins beheld my grief. — " Why art thou fad, they faid, thou firft of the "maids of Liitha? Was he lovely as the beam of " the morning, and ftately in thy figlit f ?" " Fin- *' gal came in his mildnefs, rejoicing in fecret over the ♦' actions of his fon, Morni's face brightened with " gladnefs, and his aged eyes looked faintly through " tears of joy. We came to the hails of Selma, and "fat round the feafl: of fhells. The maids of the •' fong came into our prefence, and the mildly-blufli- " ing Everallin. Her dark hair fpreads on her neck '* of fnow, her eye rolls in fecret on Oluan. She
" touches * Flngal, book i. t Croma.
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 3II
" touches the harp of mufic, and we blefs the daugh- " ter of Branno *."
Had the Caledonians made flaves of their women, and thought as meanly of them as favages commonly do, Offian could never have thought, even in a dream, of beftowing on them thofe numberlefs graces that exalt the female fex, and render many of them cbjeds of pure and elevated afFedion. I fay more : Suppofing a favage to have been divinely infpired, manners fo inconfiftent with their own would not have been relifhed, nor even comprehended by his countrymen. And yet that they were highly re- liflied is certain, having been difFufed among all ranks, and preferved for many ages by memory alone, with- out writing. Here the argument mentioned above ftrikes with double force, to evince that the manners of the Caledonians mufi: have been really fuch as Oflian defcribes.
Catharina Alexowna, Emprefs of Rufiia, promo- ted afiemblies of men and women, as a means to po- lifh the manners of her fubjeds. And in order to preferve decency in fuch affernblies, fhe publilhed a body of regulations, of which the following is a fpe- cimen. " Ladies who play at forfeitures, queftions, " and commands, &c. Ihall not be noify nor riot- " ous. No gentleman muft attempt to force a kifs, " nor ftrike a woman in the aflembly, under pain of " exclufion. Ladies are not to get drunk upon any *' pretence whatever ; nor gentlemen before nine." Com.pare the manners that required fuch regulations with thofe defcribed above. Can we fuppofe, that the ladies and gentlemen of Ofllan's poems ever a- mufed themfelves, after the age of twelve, v»'iih hide and feek, queftions and commands, or fuch childifh •play. Can it enter into our thoughts, that Bragela or Malvina were fo often drunk, as to require the
reprimand
* Lathmon.
312 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
reprimand of a public regulation ; or that any hero of Offian ever ftruck a woman of fafhion in ire ?
The immortality of the foul was a capital article in the Celtic creed, inculcated by the Druids *. And in Valerius Maximus, we find the following paflage : " It is reported that the Gauls frequently lent mo- " ney to be paid back in the infernal regions, from " a firm perfuafion that the fouls of men were im- " mortal. I would have called them fools, if thofe " wearers of breeches had not thought the fame as " Pythagoras who wore a cloak f." All favages have an impreffion of immortality ; but few even of the moft enlightened, before Chriftianity prevailed, had the leaft notion of any occupations in another life, but what they were accuftomed to in this. Even Virgil, in his poetical fervency, finds no amufements for his departed heroes, but what they were foftd of when alive ; the fame love for war, the fame tafte fdr hunting, and the fame affection to their friends. As we have no reafon to expedl more invention in Of- fian, the obfervation may ferve as a key to the ghofts introduced by him, and to his whole machinery, as termed by critics. His defcription of thefe ghofts is copied plainly from the creed of his country.
If the above manners be genuine, they are a fin- gular phenomenon in the Hifiory of Man : if they be the invention of an illiterate bard, among favages utterly ignorant of fuch manners, the phenomenon is no lefs fingular. Let either fide be taken, and a fort of miracle muft be admitted. . In the inftances above given, fuch a beautiful mixture there is of
fimplicity
* Pomponius Mela. Aramianus Marcellinus. + " Gallos, mcmorlEE prodltum eft pecunlas mutuas, qua *' fibi apud inferos redderentur, dare : quia perfuafum lia- " buerint, animas hominuin immortales effe. Dicerem *' fiultos, nifi idem braccati fenfiffent quod palliatus Pytha- " goras fcniit."
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 313
fimplicity and dignity, and fo much life given to the manners defcribed, that real manners were never re- prefented with a more ftriking appearance of truth. ]f thefe manners be fidlitious, I fay again, that the author muft have been infpii^ed : they plainly exceed the invention of a favage; nay, they exceed the in- vention of any known writer. Every man will judge for himfelf : it is perhaps fondnefs for fuch re- fined manners, that makes me inclined to reality a- gainft fidion.
I am aware, at the fanie time, that manners fo pure and elevated, in the firft rtage of fociety, are difficult to be accounted for. The Caledonians were not an original tribe, who may be fuppofed to have had manners peculiar to themfelves : they were a branch of the Celtas, and had a language common to them with the inhabitants of Gaul, and of England. The manners probably of all were the fame, or nearly h ; and if we expecft any light for explaining Caledonian manners, it muft be from that quarter-: we have in- deed no other refource. Diodorus Sicuius reports of the Celtae, that, though warlike, they were upright in their dealings, and far removed from deceit and duplicity. " The Gauls are of an open temper, noi: " at all infidious; and in fight they rely on valour, " not on ftratagem *." And though cruel to their enemies, yet Pomponious Mela obferves, that they were kind and companionate to the fupplicant and unfortunate. Strabo defcribes the Gauls as ftudious of war, and of great alacrity in fighting ; otherwife an innocent people, altogether void of malignity. He fays that they had three orders of men, bards, priefts, and druids ; that the province of the bards v/as to ftudy poetry, and to compofe fongs in praife of their dece'afed heroes ; that the priefls prefided over divine worfnip ; and that the druids, befide ftudying mora! Vol. II. D d and
-* Cajfar de Bel. Afnco.
31^ CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
and natural philfophy, determined all controverfies, and had fome direftion even in war. Czefar, lefs at- tentive to civil matters, comprehends thefe three or- ders under the name of rt'™/^//; and obferves, that the druids teach their difciples a vaft number of verfes, which they muft get by heart. Diodorus Siculus fays, that the Gauls had poets termed bards^ who fung airs acconipanied with the harp, in praife of fome, and difpraife of others. Lucan, fpeaking of the three orders, fays,
" Vos quoque, qui fortes animas, belloquc peremptasj " Laudibus in Longum, vates dimittids svum, " riurima fecuri fudllVis carmina bardi."
" You too, ye bards ! whom facred raptures fire, " To chant your heroes to your country's lyre ; *' Who confecrate in your immortal ftrain, " Brave patriot fouls, in righteous battle flain ; " Securely now the tuneful tafk renew, " And nobleft themes in deathlels fongs purfue."
RowE.
With refpe^ to the Celtic women in particular, it is agreed by all writers, that they were extremely beautiful*; and no lefs remarkable for fpirit than for beauty. If we can rely on Diodorus Siculus, the women in Gaul equalled the men in courage. Ta- citus, in his life of Agricola, fays, that the Britifh women frequently joined with the men, when attack- ed by an enemy. And {o much were they regarded, as to be thought capable of the highcft command, " They made no diilindion of fex in conferring au- " ihority," fays the fame author. And accordingly, during the war carried on by Caraf^acus, a gallant Britilh king, againft the Romans, Cartifmandua was queen of the Brigantes. Boadicea is recorded in Ro-
* Diodorus Si^'ulu'-., lib, c, At];en?rLi?. lib,
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 315
man annals as a queen of a warlike fpirit. She led on a great army againft the Romans ; and in exhorting her people to behave with courage, (lie obferved, that it was not unufual to fee a Britifli army led on to battle by a woman; to which Tacitus adds his teftimony : " The Britons even followed women as leaders in " the field*," No wonder that Celtic women, fo amply provided with fpirit, as well as beauty, made a capital figure in every public entertainment f ."
The Galic Celts undoubtedly carried with theni their manners and cufioms to Britain, and fpread them gradually from fouth to north. — Thefe bards, Vv'ho were in high elllmatlon, became great proficients in poetry ; of which we have a confpicuous inftance in the works of Oflian. Their capital corapofitions were diligently ftudied by thofe of their own order, and admired by all. The fongs of the bards accom- panied with the harp, m.ade a deep imprefTion on the young warrior, elevated fome into heroes, and promoted virtue in every hearer. Another circum- llance common to the Caledonians with every other nation in the firil ftage of fociety, concurred to form their manners ; which is, that avarice was unknown among them. People in that ft-ige, ignorant of ha- bitual wants, and having a ready fupply of all that nature requires, have little notion of property, and not the flighteft defire of accumulating the goods of fortune; and for that reafon are always found honed and difinterefted. With refpe^l to the female fex, who make an illuftrious figure in OlTian's poems, if they were fo eminent both for courage and beauty as they are reprefented by the beft authors, it is no won- der to find them painted by Offian as objefts of love the mod pure and refined. Nor ought it to be over- looked, that the foft and delicate notes of the harp D d 2 have
* Vita Agricolae, cap. 16. + Annallum, lib. 14.
\ Athcnaeus, lib. i o.
3l6 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS
have a tendency to purify manners, and to refine love.
Whether the caufes hers affigned of Celtic man- ners be fully acequate may well admit of a doubt; but if authentic hiftory be relied on, we can entertain no doubt, that the manners of the Gaiicand British Celtae, including the Caledonians, were fuch as are above defcribed. And as the manners afcribed by Ollian to his countrymen the Caledonians, are in eve- ry particular conformable to thofe now mentioned, it clearly follows, that Ofiian was no inventor, but drew his pidures of manners from real life. This is made }iighly probable from intrinfic evidence, the fame that is fo ccpioufly urged above; and now by authentic hi- .ory, tliat probability is fo much heigiuened, as fcarce ■:■') leave room for a doubt.
Our prefent Highlanders are but a fmall part of the inhabitants of Britain ; and ihey have been finking in their importance, from the time that arts andfcier.ces .made a figure, and peaceable manners prevailed. And yet in that people are difcernible many remaining fea- tures of tlieir forefathers the Caledonians. They have to this day a difpofition to war, and when dif- cjplined make excellent foldiers, fober, acStive, and cbedient. They are eminently hofpitable; and the charafler given by Strabo of the Galic Ce'te, that they were innocent and devoid of malignity, is to them perfedtly applicable. That they have not the magnanimity and heroifm of the Caledonians, is eafily accounted for. The Caledonians were a free and in- dependent people, unawed by any fuperior power, and living under the mild government of their own chieftains; compared with their forefathers, the pre- ient Highlanders make a very inconfiderable figure : their country is barren, and at any rate is but a fmall part of a potent kingdom ; and their language de- f'lives them of intercourfe with their pollfhed ndgh-
Th.:rc
ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAK. 317
There certainly never happened in literature, a dif- covery more extraordinary than the works of Oflian. To lay the fcene of aiSlion among hunters in the firft (lage of fociety, and to befl:ow upon fuch a people a fyftem of manners that would do honour to the mott polifhed ftate, feemed at firft an ill-contrived forgery. But if a forgery, why fo bold and improbable ? why not invent manners more congruous to the favage ftater And as at any rate the work has great merir, why did the author conceal hi rafelf?
All the inhabitants of Britain were of Celtic ex- tradlion ; and there is reafon to believe, that the manners of Caledonia were the m.anners of every part of the ifland, before the inhabitants of the plains were enflaved by the Romans. The only circumftance pe- culiar to the Caledonians, is their mountainous fjtua- tion : being lefs expofed to the oppreflion of foreign- ers, and farther removed from commerce, they did longer than their fouthern neighbours preferve their manners pure 2nd untainted.
I have all along confidered the poems of Oflian in a hillorical view merely. In the view of criticifm they have been examined by a writer of diftinguifhed tafte '<■ ; and however bold to enter a field where he hath repeated laurels, I imagine that there ftill re- main fome trifles for me to glean. Two of thefe poems, Fingal and Temora, are regular epic poems ; and perhaps the fingle inftances of epic poetry mould- ed into the form of an opera. We have in thefe two poems both the Rtcitativo and Jrla of an Italian opera; dropped indeed in the tranflation, from difficulty of imitation. Oflian's poems were all of them compofed With a view to mufic ; though in the long poems mentioned, it is probable that the airs only were ac- companied v/ith the harp, the recitative being left to I J d 3 the
• Doc\ci- Elair, FrortlTcr rf R'-.ctori- ir, the Goilfge •'■i EdiKbi::-r!-.
3l8 CRITICAL OBSERVATION'S, &:c.
the voice. The poems of Offian are fingular in ano- ther refpetSt, being probably the only regular work now remaining that was compofed in the hunter- ftate. Some fongs of that early period may pofTibly have efcaped oblivion; but no other poem of the epic kind. One may advance a ftep farther, and pro- nounce, with a high degree of probability, that Fin- gal and Temora are the only epic poems that ever were compofed in that ftate. How great muft have been the talents of the author, befet with every ob- ftru6lion to genius, the manners of his country alone excepted; a cold unhofpitable climate; the face of the country fo deformed as fcarce to afford a pleafing objed ; and he himfelf abfolutely illiterate! One may venture boldy to aflirm, that fuch a poem as Fingal or Temora never was compofed in any other part of the world, under fucli difadvantageous cir- <-umftances.
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