UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES

 
 For Kc 
 
 THE 
 
 POEMS OF OSSIAN, 
 
 TRANSLATED 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES MACPHERSON, ESQ. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 THE 
 ENGRAVINGS BY 
 
 JAMES FITTLER, A.R.A. 
 
 FROM PICTURES BY 
 
 HENRY SINGLETON. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR WILLIAM MILLER, ALBEMAfcLE-STREET, 
 
 JOHN MURRAY, FLEET STREET, AXD JOHN 
 
 HARDING, ST JAMES' STREET. 
 
 ^mH V <
 
 Stack 
 Annex 
 
 M
 
 The following are the Poems, from "which the 
 subjects of the Engravings in this Edition are 
 taken. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 PAO 
 
 Cath-Loda to face 17 
 
 Carric-Thura 67 
 
 Oithona 136 
 
 Calthon and Colmal 168 
 
 Fingal, Book 1 227 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Fingal, Book V 52 
 
 Lathtnor 95 
 
 Temora, Book 1 177 
 
 Temora, Book III 220 
 
 Temora, Book IV 259 
 
 Temora, Book VII 289 
 
 The Portrait of MACPHEBSON to face the Title Page 
 of Vol. I. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 VViTHOUT encreasing his genius, the 
 Author may have improved his language^ 
 in the eleven ye"ars, that the following 
 Poems have been in the hands of the 
 Public. Errors irfr diction might have 
 been committed at twenty-four, which 
 the experience of a riper age may re- 
 move ; and some exuberances in imagery 
 may be restrained, with advantage, by a 
 degree of judgment acquired in the pro- 
 gress of time. Impressed with this opi- 
 nion, he* ran over, the whole with atten- 
 tion and accuracy ; and, he hopes, he has 
 brought the work to a state of correct-
 
 Vlii PREFACE. 
 
 ness, which will preclude all future im- 
 provements. 
 
 The eagerness, with which these Poems 
 have been received abroad, are a recom- 
 pence for the coldness with which a few 
 have affected to treat them at home. AH 
 the polite nations of Europe have trans- 
 ferred them into their respective lan- 
 guages ; and they speak of him, who 
 brought them to light, in terms that 
 might flatter the vanity of one fond of 
 fame. In a convenient ind'rFerence for 
 a literary reputation, the Author hears 
 praise without being elevated, and ribal- 
 dry without being depressed. He has 
 frequently seen the first bestowed too 
 precipitately; and the latter is so faith- 
 less to its purpose, that it is often the on- 
 ly index to merit in the present age. 
 
 Though the taste, which defines genius 
 by the points of the compass, is a subject 
 fit for mirth in itself, it is often a serious 
 matter in the salfe of a work. When ri- 
 vers define the limits of abilities, as well
 
 IfRliFACE. i\ 
 
 as the boundaries of countries, a writer 
 may measure his success, by the latitude 
 under which he was born. It was to a- 
 void a part of this inconvenience, that 
 the Author is said, by some, who speak 
 without any authority, to have ascribed 
 his own productions to another name. 
 If this was the case, he was but young in 
 the art of deception. When he placed 
 the Poet in antiquity, the Translator 
 should have been born on this side of the 
 Tweed. 
 
 These observations regard only the fri- 
 volous in matters of literature ; these, 
 however, form a majority in every age 
 and nation. In this country, men of 
 genuine taste abound ; but their still 
 voice is drowned in the clamours of a 
 multitude, who judge by fashion of poe- 
 try, as of dress. The truth is, to judge a- 
 right requires almost as much genius as 
 to write well ; and good critics are as rare 
 as great poets. Though two hundred 
 thousand Romans stood up, when Virgi)
 
 <K PEEFACE. 
 
 came to the Theatre, Varius only could 
 correct the JEneid. He that obtains fame 
 must receive it through mere fashion ; 
 and gratify his \anity with the applause 
 of men, of whose judgment he cannot ap- 
 prove. 
 
 The following Poems, it must be con- 
 fessed, are more calculated to please per- 
 sons of exquisite feelings" of heart, than 
 those who receive all their impressions 
 by the ear. The novelty of cadence, in 
 what is called a prose version, though 
 not destitute of harmony, will not to com- 
 mon readers supply the absence of the 
 frequent returns of rhime. This was the 
 opinion of the Writer himself, though he 
 yielded to thej judgment of others, in a 
 mode, which presented freedom and dig- 
 nity of expression, instead of fetters, 
 which cramp the thought, whilst the har- 
 mony of language is preserved. His in- 
 tention was to publish in verse. The ma- 
 king of poetry, like any other handicraft, 
 may be learned by industry ; and he had
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 served his apprenticeship, though in se- 
 cret, to the muses. 
 
 It is, however, doubtful, whether the 
 harmony which these Poems might de- 
 rive from rhirne, even in much better 
 hands than those of the Translator, could 
 atone for the simplicity and energy, 
 which they would lose. The determina- 
 tion of this point shall be left to the rea- 
 ders of this preface. The following is 
 the beginning of a Poem, translated from 
 the Norse to the Gaelic language ; and, 
 from the latter, transferred into English. 
 The verse took little more time to the 
 writer than the prose ; and even he him- 
 self is doubtful (if he has succeeded in 
 either), which of them is the most literal 
 version.
 
 FRAGMENT 
 
 OF 
 
 WHERE Harold, with golden hair, 
 spread o'er Lochlin * his high commands ; 
 where, with justice, he ruled the tribes, 
 who sunk, subdned, beneath his sword ; 
 abrupt rises Gonnalf in snow ! The tem- 
 pests roll dark on his sides, but calm, 
 above, his vast forehead appears. White- 
 issuing from the skii't of his storms, the 
 troubled torrents pour down his sides. 
 Joining, as they roar along, they bear the 
 Torno, in foam, to the main. 
 
 Grey on the bank and far from men, 
 half-covered, by ancient pines, from the 
 
 * The Gaelic name of Scandinavia, or Scandinia. 
 
 * The mountains of Sevo.
 
 PREFACE. XIH 
 
 wind, a lonely pile exalts its head, long- 
 shaken by the storms of the north. To 
 this fled Sigurd, fierce in fight, from Ha- 
 rold the leader of armies, when fate had 
 brightened his spear, with renown : When 
 he conquered in that rude field, where 
 Lulan's warriors fell in blood, or rose in 
 terror on the waves of the main. Dark- 
 ly sat the grey-haired chief; yet sorrow 
 dwelt not in his soul. But when the war- 
 rior thought on the past, his proud heart 
 heaved against his side : Forth flew his 
 sword from its place, he wounded Harold 
 in all the winds. 
 
 One daughter, and only one, but bright 
 in form and mild of soul, the last beam 
 of the setting line, remained to Sigurd of 
 all his race. His son, -in Lulan's battle 
 slain, beheld not his father's flight from 
 his foes. Nor finished seemed the ancient 
 line ! The splendid beauty of bright-eyed 
 Fithon, covered still the fallen king with 
 venown. Her arm was white like Gor-
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 mal's snow; her bosoin whiter than the 
 foam of the main, when roll the waves 
 beneath the wrath of the winds. Like 
 two stars were her radiant eyes, like two 
 stars that rise on the deep, when dark 
 tumult embroils the night. Pleasant are 
 their beams aloft, as stately they ascend 
 the skies. 
 
 Nor Odin forgot, in aught, the maid. 
 Her form scarce equalled her. lofty mind. 
 Awe moved around her stately steps. 
 Heroes loved but shrunk away in their 
 fears. Yet midst the pride of all her 
 charms, her heart was soft, and her soul 
 was kind. She saw the mournful with 
 tearful eyes. Transient darkness arose in 
 her breast. Her joy was in the chace. 
 Each morning, when doubtful light wan- 
 dered dimly on Lilian's waves, she rouzed 
 the resounding woods, to Gormal's head 
 of snow. Nor moved the maid alone.
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 THE SAME VERSIFIED. 
 
 WHERE fair-hair'd Harold, o'er Scandinia reign'd, 
 And held, with justice, what his valour gain'd, 
 Sevo, in snow, his rugged forehead rears, 
 And, o'er the warfare of his storms, appears 
 Abrupt and vast. White-wandering, down his side, 
 A thousand torrents, gleaming as they glide. 
 Unite below : and pouring thro' the plain 
 Hurry the troubled Torno to the main. 
 
 Grey, on the bank, remote from human kind, 
 By aged pines, half-shelter'd from the wind, 
 A homely mansion rose, of antique form, 
 For ages batter'd by the polar storm. 
 To this, fierce Sigurd fled, from Norway's lord, 
 When fortune settled on the warrior's sword, 
 In that rude field, -where Suecia's chiefs were slain, 
 Or forced to wander o'er the Bothnic main. 
 Dark was his life, yet undisturb'd with woes, 
 But when the memory of defeat arose, 
 His proud heart struck his side; he graspt the spear-, 
 And wounded Harold in the vacant air. 
 
 One daughter only, but of form divine, 
 The last fair beam of the departing line, 
 Remain'd of Sigurd's race. His warlike son 
 Fell in the, shock, which overturn'd ihe throne. 
 Nor desolate the house ! Fionia's charms
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 Sustain'd the glory, which they lost in arms. 
 
 White was her arm, as Sevo's lofty snow. 
 
 Her bosom fairer, than the waves below, 
 
 When heaving to the winds. Her radiant eye* 
 
 Like two bright stars, exulting as they rise, 
 
 O'er the dark tumult of a stormy night, 
 
 And gladd'ning heaven, with their majestic light. 
 
 In nought is Odin to the -maid unkind. 
 Her form scarce equals her exalted mind ; 
 Awe leads her sacred steps where'er they move, 
 And mankind worship, where they dare not love. 
 But, mix'd with softnes>, was the virgin's pride, 
 Her heart had feelings, which her eyes dcny'd. 
 Her bright tears started at another's woes, 
 While transient darkness on her soul arose. 
 
 The chacc she lov'd ; when morn with doubtful 
 
 beam 
 
 Came dimly wandering o'er the Bothnic stream, 
 On Sevo's sounding sides, she bent the bow, 
 And rouz'd his forests to his head of snow. 
 Nor mov'd the maid alone, &c. 
 
 One of the chief improvements, on 
 this edition, is the care taken, in arranging 
 the Poems in the order of time ; so as to 
 form a kind of regular history of the age 
 to which they relate. The Writer ha*
 
 PREFACE. XVli 
 
 now resigned them for ever to their fate. 
 That they have been well received by the 
 Public, appears from an extensive sale ; 
 that they shall continue to be well recei- 
 ved, he may venture to prophecy without 
 the gift of that inspiration, to which 
 poets lay claim. Through the medium 
 of version upon version, they retain, in 
 foreign languages, their native character 
 of simplicity and energy. Genuine poe- 
 try, like gold, loses little, when properly 
 transfused ; but when a composition can- 
 not bear the test of a literal version, it is 
 a counterfeit which ought not to pass cur- 
 rent. The operation must, however, be 
 performed with skilful hands. A Trans- 
 lator, who cannot equal his original, is 
 incapable of expressing its beauties. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 August 15, 1773.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Page. 
 A Dissertation concerning the JLra of Os- 
 
 sian 1 
 
 A Dissertation concerning the Poems of Os- 
 
 sian 25 
 
 :\ critical Dissertation on the Poems of Os- 
 sian 77
 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 CONCERNING
 
 A 
 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 THE JERA OF OSSIAN. 
 
 INQUIRIES into the antiquities of nations af- 
 ford more pleasure than any real advantage to 
 mankind. The ingenious may form systems of 
 history on probabilities and a few facts ; but, at 
 a great distance of time, their accounts must be 
 vague and uncertain. The infancy of states and 
 kingdoms is as destitute of great events, as of the 
 means of transmitting them to posterity. The 
 arts of polished life, by which alone tacts can be 
 preserved with certainty, are the production of 
 a well-formed community. It is then historians
 
 4 A DISSERTATION CO 
 
 begin to write, and public transactions to be 
 worthy remembrance. The actions of former 
 times are left in obscurity, or magnified by un- 
 certain traditions. Hence it is that we find so 
 much of the marvellous in the origin of every 
 nation ; posterity being always ready to believe 
 any thing, however fabulous, that reflects ho- 
 nour on their ancestors. 
 
 The Greeks and Romans were remarkable for 
 this weakness. They swallowed the most absurd 
 fables concerning the high antiquities of their 
 respective nations. Good historians, however, 
 rose very early amongst them, and transmitted, 
 with lustre, their great actions to posterity. It 
 is to them that they owe that unrivalled fame 
 they now enjoy, while the great actions of other 
 nations are involved in fables, or lost in obscu- 
 rity. The Celtic nations afford a striking in- 
 stance of this kind. They, though once the mas- 
 ters of Europe from the mouth of the river 
 Oby *, in Russia, to Cape Finisterre, the wes- 
 tern point of Gallicia, in Spain, are very little 
 mentioned in history. They trusted thcic-fame 
 to tradition and the songs of their bards, which. 
 
 * riin. I. 6.
 
 THE tf.UA OF OSSIAN. 5 
 
 by the vicissitude of human affairs, are long since 
 lost. Their ancient language is the only monu- 
 ment that remains of them ; and the traces of it 
 being found in places so widely distant from each 
 other, serves only to shew the extent of their an- 
 cient power, but throws very little light on their 
 history. 
 
 Of all the Celtic nations, that which possessed 
 old Gaul is the most renowned ; not perhaps on 
 account of worth superior to the rest, but for 
 their wars with a people who had historians to 
 transmit the fame of their enemies, as well as 
 their own, to posterity. Britain was first peo- 
 pled by them, according to the testimony of the 
 best authors * ; its situation, in respect to Gaul, 
 makes the opinion probable ; but what puts it 
 beyond all dispute, is, that the same customs and 
 language prevailed among the inhabitants of both 
 in the days of Julius Caesar f. 
 
 The colony from Gaul possessed themselves, 
 at first, of that part of Britain which was next 
 to their own country ; and spreading northward, 
 by degrees, as they increased in numbers, pco- 
 
 * Cses. 1. 5. Tac. Agric. c. 2. 
 + Caesar. Pomp. Mel. Tacitus.
 
 6 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 pled the whole island. Some adventurers, pas- 
 sing over from those parts of Britain that are 
 within sight of Ireland, were the founders of the 
 Irish nation ; which is a more probable story 
 than the idle fables of Milesian and Gallician co- 
 lonies. Diodorus Siculus * mentions it as a 
 thing well known in his time, that the inhabi- 
 tants of Ireland were originally Britons ; and his 
 testimony is unquestionable, when we consider 
 that, for many ages, the language and customs 
 of both nations were the same. 
 
 Tacitus was of opinion, that the ancient Cale- 
 donians were of German extract ; but even the 
 ancient Germans themselves were Gauls. The 
 present Germans, properly so called, were not 
 the same with the ancient Celtce. The manners 
 and customs of the two nations were similar ; 
 but their language different. The Germans f 
 are the genuine descendants of the ancient Scan- 
 dinavians, who crossed, in an early period, the 
 Baltic. The Celtic }, anciently, sent many co- 
 lonies into Germany, all of whom retained their 
 own laws, language, and customs, till they were 
 
 * Diod. Sic. 1. 5. t Strabo, 1. 7. 
 
 J Cses. 1. 6. Liv. 1. 5. Tac. de inor, Germ.
 
 THE RA OF OSSIAtf. 7 
 
 dissipated in the Roman empire ; and it is of 
 them, if any colonies came from Germany into 
 Scotland, that the ancient Caledonians were de- 
 scended. 
 
 But whether the Caledonians were a colony of 
 the Celtic Germans, or the same with the Gauls 
 that first possessed themselves of Britain, is a 
 matter of no moment at this distance of time. 
 Whatever their origin was, we find them very 
 numerous in the time of Julius Agricola, which 
 is a presumption that they were long before set- 
 tled in the country. The form of their govern- 
 ment was a mixture of aristocracy and monar- 
 chy, as it was in all the countries where the 
 Druids bore the chief sway. This order of men 
 seems to have been formed on the same princi- 
 ples with the Dactyli Ida? and Curetes of the an- 
 cients. Their pretended intercourse with hea- 
 ven, their magic and divination, were the same. 
 The knowledge of the Druids in natural causes, 
 and the properties of certain things, the fruit of 
 the experiments of ages, gained them a mighty 
 reputation among the people. The esteem of 
 the populace soon increased into a veneration for 
 the order ; which these cunning and ambitious 
 priests took care to improve, to such a degree.
 
 8 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 that they, in a manner, ingrossed the manage- 
 ment of civil, as well as religious, matters. It 
 is generally allowed that they did not abuse this 
 extraordinary power ; the preserving their cha- 
 racter of sanctity was so essential to their influ- 
 ence, that they never broke out into violence or 
 oppression. The chiefs were allowed to execute 
 the laws, but the legislative power was entirely 
 in the hands of the Druids *. It was by their 
 authority that the tribes were united, in times of 
 the greatest danger, under one head. This tem- 
 porary king, or Vergobretus f, was chosen by 
 them, and generally laid down his office at the 
 end of the war. These priests enjoyed long this 
 extraordinary privilege among the Celtic nations 
 who lay beyond the pale of the Roman empire. 
 It was in the beginning of the second century 
 that their power among the Caledonians began 
 to decline. The traditions concerning Trathal 
 and Cormac, ancestors to Fingal, are full of the 
 particulars of the fall of the Druids : a singular 
 fate, it must be owned, of priests, who had once 
 established their superstition. 
 
 The continual wars of the Caledonians against 
 
 * Cies. I. 6. t Fer-gubreth, the man to judge.
 
 THE ;nn,A OF 
 
 the Romans, hindered the better sort from ini- 
 tiating themselves, as the custom 'formerly WHS, 
 into the order of the Druids. The precepts of 
 their religion were confined to a tew, and \vrrc 
 not much attended to by a people, inured to war. 
 The Vergobretus, or chief magistrate, was chosen 
 without the concurrence of the hierarchy, or 
 continued in his office against their will. Con- 
 tinual power strengthened his interest among the 
 tribes, and enabled him to send down, as here- 
 ditary to his posterity, the office he had only re- 
 ceived himself by election. 
 
 On occasion of a new war against the King of 
 the World, as tradition emphatically calls the 
 Roman emperor, the Druids, to vindicate the 
 honour of the order, began to icsume their an- 
 cient privilege of chusing the Vergobretus. Gar- 
 mal, the son of Tarno, being deputed by them, 
 came to the grandfather of the celebrated Fingal, 
 who was then Vergobretus, and commanded him, 
 in the name of the whole order, to lay down his 
 office. Upon his refusal, a civil war commen- 
 ced, which soon ended in almost the total ex- 
 tinction of the religious order of the Druids. A 
 few that remained, retired to the dark recesses 
 of their groves, and the caves they had formerly
 
 10 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 used for their meditations. It is then we find 
 them in the circle of stones, and unheeded by the 
 world. A total disregard for the order, and ut- 
 ter abhorrence of the Druidical rites, ensued. 
 Under this cloud of public hate, all that had 
 any knowledge of the religion of the Druids be- 
 came extinct, and the nation fell into the last 
 degree of ignorance of their rites and ceremo- 
 nies. 
 
 It is no matter of wonder then, that Fingal 
 and his son Ossian disliked the Druids, who were 
 the declared enemies to their succession in tde 
 supreme magistracy. It is a singular case, it 
 must be allowed, that there are no traces of re- 
 ligion in the poems ascribed to Ossian ; as the 
 poetical compositions of other nations are so 
 closely connected with their mythology. But 
 gods are not necessary, when the poet has ge- 
 nius. It is hard to account for it to those who 
 are not made acquainted with the manner of the 
 old Scottish bards. That race of men carried 
 their notions of martial honour to an extrava- 
 gant pitch. Any aid given their heroes in bat- 
 tle, was thought to derogate from their fame ; 
 and the bards immediately transferred the glory 
 of the action to him who had given that aid.
 
 THE .'ERA OP OSSIAN. II 
 
 Had the poet brought down gods, as often as 
 Homer hath done, to assist his heroes, his work 
 had not consisted of eulogiums on men, but of 
 hymns to superior beings. Those who write in 
 the Gaelic language seldom mention religion in 
 their profane poetry ; and when they professedly 
 write of religion, they never mix with their com- 
 positions, the actions of their heroes. This cus- 
 tom alone, even though the religion of the Druids 
 had not been previously extinguished, may, in 
 some measure, excuse the author's silence con- 
 cerning the religion of ancient times. 
 
 To allege that a nation is void of all religion, 
 would betray ignorance of the history of man- 
 kind. The traditions of their fathers, and their 
 own observations on the works of nature, toge- 
 ther with that superstition which is inherent in 
 the human frame, have, in all ages, raised in the 
 minds of men some idea of a superior being. 
 Hence it is, that, in the darkest times, and 
 amongst the most barbarous nations, the very 
 populace themselves had some faint notion, at 
 least, of a divinity. The Indians, who worship 
 no God, believe that he exists. It would be 
 doing injustice to the author of these poems, to 
 think, that he had not opened his conceptions to
 
 42 A DISSERTATION COVCERXINC- 
 
 that primitive and greatest of all truths. But 
 let his religion be what it will, it is certain he 
 has not alluded to Christianity, or any of its 
 rites, in his poems ; which ought to fix his opi- 
 nions, at least, to an aera prior to that religion. 
 Conjectures, on this subject, must supply the 
 place of proof. The persecution begun by Dio- 
 clesian, in the year 303, is the most probable 
 time in which the first dawning of Christianity 
 in the north of Britain can lie fixed. The hu- 
 mane and mild character of Constantius Chlorus, 
 who commanded then in Britain, induced the 
 persecuted Christians to take refuge under him. 
 Some of them, through a zeal to propagate their 
 tenets, or through fear, went beyond the pale of 
 the Roman empire, and settled among the Cale- 
 donians ; who were ready to hearken to their 
 doctrines, if the religion of the Druids was ex- 
 ploded long before. 
 
 These missionaries, either through choice, or 
 to give more weight to the doctrine they advan- 
 ced, took possession of the cells and groves of 
 the Druids ; and it was from this retired life 
 they had the name of Culdees *, which, in the 
 
 * Culdich.
 
 THE JfcRA OF OSSIAN. 13 
 
 language of the country, signified sequestered per- 
 sons. It was with one of the Ciildees that Os- 
 sian, in his extreme old age, is said to have dis- 
 puted concerning the Christian religion. This 
 dispute, they say, is extant ; and is couched in 
 verse, according to the custom of the times. 
 The extreme ignorance, on the part of Ossian, of 
 the Christian tenets, shews, that that religion had 
 only been lately introduced ; as it is not easy to 
 conceive how one of the first rank could be to- 
 tally unacquainted with a religion that had been 
 known for any time in the country. The dis- 
 pute bears the genuine marks of antiquity. The 
 obsolete phrases and expressions peculiar to the 
 times, prove it to be no forgery. If Ossian then 
 lived at the introduction of Christianity, as by 
 all appearance he did, his epoch will be the lat- 
 ter end of the third, and beginning of the iourth 
 century. Tradition here steps in with a kind of 
 proof. 
 
 The exploits of Fingal against Caracul *, the 
 son of the King of the World, are among the first 
 brave actions of his youth. A complete poem, 
 
 * Carac'huil, terrible eye. Carac'healla, terrible look. 
 1 'nracchallamb, a sort rtf upper garment.
 
 14 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 which relates to this subject, is printed in this 
 collection. 
 
 In the year 210, the emperor Severus, after 
 returning from his expedition against the Cale- 
 donians, at York, fell into the tedious illness of 
 which he afterwards died. The Caledonians and 
 Maiatas, resuming courage from his indisposition, 
 took arms, in order to recover the possessions they 
 had lost. The enraged emperor commanded his 
 army to march into their country, and to de- 
 stroy it with fire and sword. His orders were 
 but ill executed ; for his son, Caracalla, was at the 
 head of the army, and his thoughts were entire- 
 ly taken up with the hopes of his father's death, 
 and with schemes to supplant his brother Geta. 
 He scarcely had entered the enemy's country, 
 when news was brought him that Severus was 
 dead. A sudden peace is patched up with the 
 Caledonians ; and, as it appears from Dion Cas- 
 sius, the country they had lost to Severus was 
 restored to them. 
 
 The Caracul of Fingal is no other than Cara- 
 calla, who, as the son of Severus, the emperor 
 of Rome, whose dominions were extended almost 
 over the known world, was not without reason 
 called the Son of the King of the World. The
 
 THE .ERA OF OSSIAN. 15 
 
 of time between 211, the year Sevcrus 
 died, and the beginning of the fourth century, is 
 not so great, but Ossian, the son of Fingal, might 
 have seen the Christians whom the persecution 
 under Dioclesian had driven beyond the pale of 
 the Roman empire. 
 
 In one of the many lamentations on the death 
 of Oscar, a battle which he fought against Ca- 
 ros, king of ships, on the banks of the winding 
 Carun *, is mentioned among his great actions. 
 It is more than probable, that the Caros men- 
 tioned here, is the same with the noted usurper 
 Carausius, who assumed the purple in the year 
 287; and, seizing on Britain, defeated the emperor 
 Maximinian Herculius, in several naval engage- 
 ments, which gives propriety to his being called 
 the King of Ships. The winding Carun is that 
 small river retaining still the name of Carron, 
 and runs in the neighbourhood of Agricola's 
 wall, which Carausius repaired to obstruct the 
 incursions of the Caledonians. Several other 
 passages in traditions allude to the wars of the 
 Romans ; but the two just mentioned clearly fix 
 the epocha of Fingal to the third century ; and 
 
 * Car-avon, winding river.
 
 1< A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 this account agrees exactly with the Irish histo- 
 ries, which place the death of Fingal, the son of 
 Comhal, in the year 283, and that of Oscar and 
 their own celebrated Cairbre, in the year 296. 
 
 Some people may imagine, that the allusions 
 to the Roman history might have been derived 
 by tradition, from learned men, more than from 
 ancient poems. This must then have happened 
 at least three ages ago, as these allusions are 
 mentioned often in the compositions of those 
 times. 
 
 Every one knows what a cloud of ignorance 
 and barbarism overspread the north of Europe 
 three hundred years ago. The minds of men, 
 addicted to superstition, contracted a narrow- 
 ness that destroyed genius. Accordingly, we 
 find the compositions of those times trivial and 
 puerile to the last degree. But let it be allow- 
 ed, that, amidst all the untoward circumstan- 
 ces of the age, a genius might arise, it is not 
 easy to determine what could induce him to al- 
 lude to the Roman times. We find no fact to 
 favour any designs which could be entertained 
 by any man who lived in the fifteenth century. 
 
 The strongest objection to the antiquity of the 
 poems, now given to the public under the name
 
 THE X.RA. OF OSSIAK. 1? 
 
 of Ossian, is the improbability of their being 
 handed down by tradition through so many cen- 
 turies. Ages of barbarism, some will say, could 
 not produce poems abounding with the disinter- 
 ested and generous sentiments so conspicuous in 
 the compositions of Ossian ; and could these 
 ages produce them, it is impossible but they must 
 be lost, or altogether corrupted in a long suc- 
 cession of barbarous generations. 
 
 These objections naturally suggest themselves 
 to men unacquainted with the ancient state of 
 the northern parts of Britain. The bards, \vho 
 were an inferior order of the Druids, did not 
 share their bad fortune. They were spared by 
 the victorious king ; as it was through their 
 means only he could hope for immortality to his 
 fame. They attended him in the camp, and 
 contributed to establish his power by their songs. 
 His great actions were magnified, and the popu- 
 lace, who had no ability to examine into his cha- 
 racter narrowly, were dazzled with his fame in 
 the rhimes of the bards. In the mean time, men 
 assumed sentiments that arc rarely to be met 
 with in an age of barbarism. The bards, who 
 were originally the disciples of the Druids, had 
 their minds opened, and their ideas enlarged, by 
 
 VOL. T. B
 
 i8 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 being initiated in the learning of that celebrated 
 order. They could form a perfect hero in their 
 own minds, and ascribe that character to their 
 prince. The inferior chiefs made this ideal cha- 
 racter the model of their conduct ; and, by de- 
 grees, brought their minds to that generous spirit 
 which breathes in all the poetry of the times. 
 The prince, flattered by his bards, and rivalled 
 by his own heroes, who imitated his character, 
 as described in the eulogies of his poets, endea- 
 voured to excel his people in merit, as he was 
 above them in station. This emulation conti- 
 nuing, formed at last the general character of 
 the nation, happily compounded of what is noble 
 in barbarity, and virtuous and generous in a po- 
 lished people. 
 
 When virtue in peace, and bravery in war, arc 
 the characteristics of a nation, their actions be- 
 come interesting, and their fame worthy of im- 
 mortality. A generous spirit is warmed with 
 noble actions, and becomes ambitious of perpe- 
 tuating them. This is the true source of that di- 
 vine inspiration, to which the poets of all ages 
 pretended. When they found their themes ina- 
 dequate to the warmth of their imaginations, they 
 varnished them over with fables, supplied by
 
 OF OSSIAtf, 1 
 
 'their own fancy, or furnished by absurd tradi- 
 tions. These fables, however ridiculous, had 
 their abettors ; posterity either implicitly be- 
 lieved them, or, through a vanity natural to man- 
 kind, pretended that they did. They loved to 
 place the founders of their families in the days 
 of fable, when poetry, without the fear of con- 
 tradiction, could give what characters she plea- 
 sed of her heroes. It is to this vanity that we 
 owe the preservation of what remain of the more 
 ancient poems. Their poetical merit made their 
 heroes famous in a country where heroism was 
 much esteemed and admired. The posterity of 
 those heroes, or those who pretended to be de- 
 scended from them, heard with pleasure the eu- 
 logiums of their ancestors ; bards were employed 
 to repeat the poems, and to record the connec- 
 tion of their patrons with chiefs so renowned. 
 Every chief, in process of time, had a bard in 
 his family, and the office became at last heredi- 
 tary. By the succession of these bards, the 
 poems concerning the ancestors of the family 
 were handed down from generation to genera- 
 tion ; they were repeated to the whole clan on 
 solemn occasions, and always alluded to in the 
 new compositions of the bards. This custom
 
 20 A DISSERTATION COXCERNIXO 
 
 came down to near our own times ; and after 
 the bards were discontinued, a great number in 
 a clan retained by memory, or committed to 
 writing, their compositions, and founded the an- 
 tiquity of their families on the authority of then- 
 poems. 
 
 The use of letters was not known in the north 
 of Europe till long after the institution of the 
 bards : the records of the families of their pa- 
 trons, their own, and more ancient poems, were 
 handed down by tradition. Their poetical com- 
 positions were admirably contrived for that pur- 
 pose. They were adapted to music ; and the 
 most perfect harmony was observed. Each verse 
 was so connected with those which preceded or 
 followed it, that if one line had been remember- 
 ed in a stanza, it was almost impossible to forget 
 the rest. The cadences- followed in so natural a 
 gradation, and the words were so adapted to the 
 common turn of the voice, after it is raised to a 
 certain key, that it was almost impossible, from 
 a similarity of sound, to substitute one word for 
 another. This excellence is peculiar to the Cel- 
 tic tongue, and is perhaps to be met with in no 
 other language. Nor does this choice of words 
 clog the sense, or weaken the expression. The
 
 THE iRA OF OSSIAX. 21 
 
 numerous flections of consonants, and variation 
 in declension, make the language very copious. 
 
 The descendants of the Celtas, who inhabited 
 Britain and its isles, were not singular in this 
 method of preserving the most precious monu- 
 ments of their nation. The ancient laws of the 
 Greeks were couched in verse, and handed down 
 bv tradition. The Spartans, through a long ha- 
 bit, became so fond of this custom, that they 
 would never allow thoir laws to be committed to 
 writing. The actions of great men, and the eu- 
 logiums of kings and heroes, were preserved in 
 the same manner. All the historical monuments 
 of the old Germans were comprehended in their 
 ancient songs * ! which were either hymns to 
 their gods, or elegies in praise of their heroes ; 
 and were intended to perpetuate the great events 
 in their nation, which were carefully interwoven 
 with them. This species of composition was not 
 committed to writing, but delivered by oral tra- 
 dition f. The care they took to have the poems 
 taught to their children, the uninterrupted cus- 
 tom of repeating them upon certain occasions, 
 
 * Tac. de mor. Germ. 
 
 t Abbe de la Bleterie Remarques BUT la Germainc.
 
 22 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 and the happy measure of the verse, served to 
 preserve them for a long time uncorrupted. This 
 oral chronicle of the Germans was not forgot in 
 the eighth century, and it probably \vould have 
 remained to this day, had not learning, which 
 thinks every thing that is not committed to 
 writing fabulous, been introduced. It was from 
 poetical traditions that Garcillasso composed his 
 account of the Yncas of Peru. The Peruvians 
 'had lost all other monuments of their history; 
 and it was from ancient poems, which his mo- 
 ther, a princess of the blood of the Yncas, 
 taught him in his youth, that he collected the 
 materials of his history. If other nations, then, 
 that had been often over-run by enemies, and had 
 sent abroad and received colonies, could for 
 many ages preserve, by oral tradition, their laws 
 and histories uncorrupted, it is much more pro- 
 bable that the ancient Scots, a people so free of 
 intermixture with foreigners, and so strongly at- 
 tached to the memory of their, ancestors, had 
 the works of their bards handed down with great 
 purity. 
 
 What is advanced, in this short Dissertation, 
 it must be confessed, is mere conjecture. Be~ 
 yond the reach of records, is settled a gloom,
 
 THE ^RA OF OSSIAK. 23 
 
 xvhich no ingenuity can penetrate. The man- 
 ners described, in tfyese poems, suit the ancient. 
 Celtic times, and no other period that is known 
 in history. V^e must, therefore, place the he- 
 roes far back in antiquity ; and it matters little, 
 \rho were their cotemporarics in other parts of 
 the world. If \ve have placed Fingal in his pro- 
 per period, we do honour to the manners of bar- 
 barous times. He exercised every manly virtue 
 in Caledonia, while Heliogabalus disgraced hu- 
 man nature at Rome,
 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.
 
 A 
 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 
 
 IHE history of those nations, who originally 
 possessed the north of Europe, is less known 
 than their manners. Destitute of the use of let- 
 ters, they themselves had not the means of trans- 
 mitting their great actions to remote posterity. 
 Foreign writers saw them only at a distance, and 
 described them as they found them. The vanity 
 of the Romans induced them to consider the na- 
 tions beyond the pale of their empire as barba- 
 rians ; and consequently their history unworthy 
 of being investigated. Their manners and sin-
 
 '28 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 gular character were matters of curiosity, as 
 they committed them to record. Some men, 
 otherwise of great merit among ourselves, give 
 into confined ideas on this subject. Having 
 early imbibed their idea of exalted manners from 
 the Greek and Roman writers, they scarcely 
 ever afterwards have the fortitude to allow any 
 dignity of character to any nation destitute of 
 the use of letters. 
 
 Without derogating from the fame of Greece 
 and Rome, we may consider antiquity beyond 
 the pale of their empire worthy of some atten- 
 tion. The nobler passions of the mind never 
 shoot forth more free and unrestrained than in 
 the times we call barbarous. That irregular 
 manner of life, and those manly pursuits from 
 which barbarity takes its name, are highly fa- 
 vourable to a strength of mind unknown in po- 
 lished times. In advanced society the charac- 
 ters of men are more uniform and disguised. The 
 human passions lie in some degree concealed be- 
 hind forms, and artificial manners ; and the 
 powers of the soul, without an opportunity of 
 exerting them, lose their vigour. The times of 
 regular government, and polished manners, arc 
 therefore to be wished for by the feeble and weak
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 2<j 
 
 in mind. An unsettled state, and those convul- 
 siori* which attend it, is the proper field fcr an 
 !?d character, and the exertion of great 
 p^rts. Merit there rises always superior; no 
 fortuitous event can raise the timid and mean 
 into power. To those who look upon antiquity 
 in this light, it is an agreeable prospect; and 
 they alone can have real pleasure in tracing na- 
 tions to their source. 
 
 The establishment of the Celtic states, in the 
 north of Europe, is beyond the reach of written 
 annals. The traditions and songs to which they 
 trusted their history, were lost, or altogether 
 corrupted in their revolutions and migrations, 
 which were so frequent and universal, that no 
 kingdom in Europe is now possessed by its origi- 
 nal inhabitants. Societies were formed, and 
 kingdoms erected, from a mixture of nations, 
 who, in process of time, lost all knowledge of 
 their own origin. If tradition could be depended 
 upon, it is only among a people, from all time, 
 free from intermixture with foreigners. We are 
 to look for these among the mountains and in- 
 accessible parts of a country : places, on account 
 of their barrenness, uninviting to an enemy, or 
 whose natural strength enabled the natives to
 
 30 A DISSERTATION COVCEUNJNG- 
 
 repel invasions. Such are the inhabitants of the 
 mountains of Scotland. We, accordingly, find, 
 that they differ materially from those who pos- 
 sess the low and more fertile part of the king- 
 dom. Their language is pure and original, and 
 their manners are those of an ancient and un- 
 mixed race of men. Conscious of their own an- 
 tiquity, they long despised others, as a new and 
 mixed people. As they lived in a country only 
 fit for pasture, they were free from that toil and 
 business which engross the attention of a com- 
 mercial people. Their amusement consisted in 
 hearing or repeating their songs and traditions ; 
 and these entirely turned on the antiquitv of 
 their nation, and the exploits of their forefathers. 
 It is no wonder, therefore, that there are more re- 
 mains of antiquity among them, than among any 
 other people in Europe. Traditions, however, 
 concerning remote periods, are only to be re- 
 garded in so far as they coincide with cotempo- 
 raiy writers of undoubted credit and veracity. 
 
 No writers began their accounts from a more 
 early period, than the historians of the Scots na- 
 tion. Without records, or even tradition itself, 
 they give a long list of ancient kings, and a de- 
 tail of their transactions, with a scrupulous ex-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAIT. 31 
 
 actness. One might naturally suppose, that, 
 when they had no authentic annals, they should, 
 at least, have recourse to the traditions of their 
 country, and have reduced them into a regular 
 system of history. Of both they seem to have 
 been equally destitute. Born in the low coun- 
 try, and strangers to the ancient language of 
 their nation, they contented themselves with co- 
 pying from one another, and retailing the same 
 fictions, in a new colour and dress. 
 
 John Fordun was the first who collected those 
 fragments of the Scots history, which had escaped 
 the brutal policy of Edward I., and reduced them 
 into order. His accounts, in so far as they con- 
 cerned recent transactions, deserved credit : be- 
 yond a certain period, they were fabulous and 
 unsatisfactory. Some time before Fordun wrote, 
 the king of England, in a letter to the pope, had 
 run up the antiquity of his nation to a very re- 
 mote asra. Fordun, possessed of all the national 
 prejudice of the age, was unwilling that his 
 country should yield, in point of antiquity, to a 
 people, then its rivals and enemies. Destitute 
 of annals in Scotland, he had recourse to Ire.- 
 land, which, according to the vulgar errors of 
 the times, was reckoned the first habitation, of
 
 32 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 the Scots. He found, there, that the Irish bards 
 had carried tl.eir pretensions to antiquity as high, 
 if not beyond any nation in Europe. It was 
 from them he took those improbable fictions, 
 which form the first part of his history. 
 
 The writers that succeeded Fordun implicitly 
 followed his system, though they sometimes vari- 
 eu from him in their relations of particular trans- 
 actions, and the order of succession of their 
 kings, As they had no new lights, and were, 
 equally with him, unacquainted with the tradi- 
 tions of their country, their histories contain 
 little information concerning the origin ot the 
 Scots. Even Buchanan himself, except the ele- 
 gance and vigour of his style, has very little to 
 recommend him. Blinded with political pre- 
 judices, he seemed more anxious to turn the 
 fictions of his predecessors to his own purposes, 
 than to detect their misrepresentations, or in- 
 vestigate truth amidst the darkness which they 
 had thrown round it. It therefore appears, that 
 little can be collected from their own historians, 
 concerning the first migration of the Scots into 
 Britain. 
 
 That this island was peopled from Gaul, ad- 
 mits of no doubt. Whether colonies came after-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 33 
 
 \\ards from the north of Europe, is a matter of 
 mere speculation. When South Britain yielded 
 to the power of the Romans, the unconquered 
 nations to the north of the province were dis- 
 tinguished by the name of Caledonians. From 
 their very name, it appears, that they were of 
 those Gauls, who possessed themselves originally 
 of Britain. It is compounded of two Celtic words, 
 Cael signifying Celts, or Gauls, and Dun or Don, 
 a hill; so that Cael-don, or Caledonians, is as 
 much as to say, the Celts of the hill country. 
 The Highlanders, to this day, call themselves 
 Cael, their language Gaelic, or Gaelic, and their 
 country Caeldoch, which the Romans softened 
 into Caledonia, This, of itself, is sufficient to 
 demonstrate,' they are the genuine descendants 
 of the ancient Caledonians, and not a pretended 
 colony of Scots, who settled first in the north, 
 in the third or fourth century. 
 
 From the double meaning of the word Cael, 
 which signifies strangers, as well as Gauls, or 
 Celts, some have imagined, that the ancestors of 
 the Caledonians were of a different race from the 
 rest of the Britons, and that they received their 
 name upon that account. This opinion, say they, 
 is supported by Tacitus, who, from several cir- 
 VOL. I. r
 
 34 A DISSERTATION COVCKRNING 
 
 cumstances, concludes, that the Caledonians'werc 
 of German extraction. A discussion of a point 
 so intricate, at this distance of time, could neither 
 be satisfactory nor important. 
 
 Towards the latter end of the third, and be- 
 ginning of the fourth century, we meet with 
 the Scots in the north. Porphyrius * makes the 
 first mention of them about that time. As the 
 Scofs were not heard of before that period, most 
 writers supposed them to have been a colony 
 newly come to Britain, and that the Picts were 
 the only genuine descendants of the ancient Ca- 
 ledonians. This mistake is easily removed. The 
 Caledonians, in process of time, became natural- 
 ly divided into two distinct nations, as possessing 
 parts of the country entirely different in their 
 nature and soil. The western coast of Scotland 
 is hilly and barren ; towards the cast the coun- 
 try is plain, and fit for tillage. The inhabitants 
 of the mountains, a roving and uncontrolled 
 race of men, lived by feeding of cattle, and what 
 they killed in hunting. Their employment did 
 not fix them to one place. They removed from 
 one heath to another, as suited best with their 
 
 * St. Ilieroru. ad Ctcsiphon.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 35 
 
 convenience or inclination. They were not, 
 therefore, improperly called, by their neigh- 
 bours, SCUITE, or the wandering nation ; which 
 is evidently the origin of the Roman name of 
 Scoti. 
 
 On the other hand, the Caledonians, who pos- 
 sessed the east coast of Scotland, as the division 
 of the country was plain and fertile, applied 
 themselves to agriculture, and raising of corn. 
 It was from this, that the Gaelic name of the 
 Picts proceeded ; for they are called, in that 
 language, CntitJinich,' i. e. the -wheat or corn 
 eaters. As the Picts lived in a country so dif- 
 ferent in its nature from that possessed by the 
 Scots, so their national character suffered a ma- 
 terial change. Unobstructed by mountains, or 
 lakes, their communication with one another was 
 free and frequent. Society, therefore, became 
 sooner established among them, than among the 
 Scots, and, consequently, they were much sooner 
 governed by civil magistrates and laws. This, 
 at last, produced so great a difference in the 
 manners of the two nations, that they began to 
 forget their common origin, and almost continual 
 quarrels and animosities subsisted between them. 
 These animosities, after some ages, ended in the
 
 36 A DISSERTATION COSTCEKX IK<3 
 
 subversion of the Pictish kingdom, but not in- 
 the total extirpation of the nation, according to 
 most of the Scots writers, who seemed to think 
 it more for the honour of their countrymen to 
 annihilate, than reduce, a rival people under their 
 obedience. It is certain, however, that the very 
 name of the Picts was lost, and those that re- 
 mained were so completely incorporated with 
 their conquerors, that they soon lost all memory 
 of their own origin. 
 
 The end of the Pictish government is placed 
 so near that period, to which authentic annals 
 reach, that it is matter of wonder, that we have 
 no monuments of their language or history re- 
 maining. This favours the system I have laid 
 down. Had they originally been of a different 
 race from the Scots, their language of course 
 would be different. The contrary is the case. 
 The names of places in the Pictish dominions, 
 and the very names of their kings, which art- 
 handed down to us, are of Gaelic original ; which 
 is a convincing proof that the two nations were, 
 of old, one and the same, and only divided into 
 two governments, by the effect which their situ- 
 ation had upon the genius of the people.
 
 POEMS OF OSSIAN'. 37 
 
 The name of Picts is said to have been given 
 by the Romans to the Caledonians, who possess- 
 ed the east coast of Scotland, from their paint- 
 ing their bodies. The story is silly, and the argu- 
 ment absurd. But let us revere antiquity in her 
 very follies. This circumstance made some ima- 
 gine, that the Picts were of British extract, and 
 a different race of men from the Scots. That 
 more of the Britons, who fled northward from 
 the tyranny of the Romans, settled in the low 
 country of Scotland, than among the Scots of 
 the mountains, may be easily imagined, from the 
 very nature of the country. It was they who 
 introduced painting among the Picts. From this 
 circumstance, affirm some antiquaries, proceed- 
 ed the name of the latter, to distinguish them 
 from the Scots, who never had that art among 
 them, and from the Britons, who discontinued it 
 after the Roman conquest. 
 
 The Caledonians, most certainly, acquired a 
 considerable knowledge in navigation, by their 
 living on a coast intersected with many arms of 
 the sea, and in islands, divided, one from an- 
 other, by wide and dangerous firths. It is, there- 
 fore, highly probable, that they, very early, 
 found their way to the north of Ireland, which is
 
 38 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 within sight of their own country. That Ireland 
 was first peopled from Britain, is, at length, a 
 matter that admits of no doubt. The vicinity 
 of the two islands ; the exact correspondence of 
 the ancient inhabitants of both, in point of man- 
 ners and language, are sufficient proofs, even if 
 we had not the testimony of * authors of un- 
 doubted veracity to; confirm it. The abettors 
 of the most romantic systems of Irish antiquities 
 allow it ; but they place the colony from Britain 
 in an improbable and remote a?ra. I shall easi- 
 ly admit, that the colony of the Firbolg, confes- 
 sedly the Belgcc of Britain, settled in the south 
 of Ireland, before the Gael, or Caledonians, dis- 
 covered the north : but it is not at all likely, 
 that the migration of the Firbolg to Ireland hap- 
 pened many centuries before the Christian xrn. 
 
 The poem of Temora throws considerable light 
 on this subject. The accounts given in it agree 
 so well with what the ancients have delivered, 
 concerning the first population and inhabitants 
 of Ireland, that every unbiassed person will con- 
 fess them more probable, than the legends hand- 
 ed down, by tradition, in that country. It ap- 
 
 Dio. Sic. 1. 5.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 39 
 
 pears, that, in the days of Trathal, grandfather to 
 Fingal, Ireland was possessed by two nations ; the 
 Firbdlg, or Belgce of Britain, who inhabited the 
 south, and the Gael, who passed over from Cale- 
 donia and the Hebrides to Ulster. The two na- 
 tions, as is usual among an unpolished and late- 
 ly settled people, were divided into small dynas- 
 ties, subject to petty kings, or chiefs, independant 
 of one another. In this situation, it is probable, 
 they continued long, without any material revo- 
 lution in the state of the island, until Crothar,, 
 lord of Atha, a country in Connaught, the most 
 potent chief of the Firbolg, carried away Con- 
 lama, the daughter of Cathmin, a chief of the 
 Gael, who possessed Ulster. 
 
 Conlama had been betrothed some time be- 
 fore to Turloch, a chief of their own nation. 
 Turloch resented the affront offered him by Cro- 
 thar, made an irruption into Connaught, and 
 killed Cormul, the brother of Crothar, who came 
 to oppose his progress. Crothar himself then 
 took arms, and either killed or expelled Tur- 
 loch. The war, upon this, became general be- 
 tween the two nations : and the Gael were redu- 
 ced to the last extremity. In this situation, they 
 applied for aid to Trathal, king of Morven, whe
 
 40 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING- 
 
 sent his brother Conar, already famous for his 
 great exploits, to their relief. Conar, upon his 
 arrival in Ulster, was chosen king, by the una- 
 nimous consent of the Caledonian tribes, who 
 possessed that country. The war was renewed 
 with vigour and success ; but the Firbolg appear 
 to have been rather repelled than subdued. In 
 succeeding reigns, we learn from episodes in the 
 same poem, that the chiefs of Atha made several 
 efforts to become monarchs of Ireland, and to 
 expel the race of Conar. 
 
 To Conar succeeded his son Cormac, who ap- 
 pears to have reigned long. In his latter days 
 he seems to have been driven to the last extre- 
 mity, by an insurrection of the Firbolg, who 
 supported the pretensions of the chiefs of Atha 
 to the Irish throne. Fingal, \vho then was very 
 young, came to the aid of Cormac, totally de- 
 feated Colc-ulla, chief of Atha, and re-establish- 
 ed Cormac in the sole possession of all Ireland. 
 It was then he fell in love with, and took to wife, 
 Roscrana, the daughter of Cormac, who was the 
 mother of Ossian. 
 
 Cormac was succeeded in the Irish throne by 
 his son Cairbre ; Cairbre by Artho, his son, 
 who was the father of that Cormac, in whose
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAtf. 41 
 
 minority the invasion of Swarun happened, which 
 is the subject of the poem of Fit/g^L The fa- 
 mily of Atha, who had not relinquished their 
 pretensions to the Irish throne, rebelled in the 
 minority of Cormac, defeated his adherents, and 
 murdered him in the palace of Tcmora. Cair- 
 bar, lord of Atha, upon this, mounted the throne. 
 His usurpation soon ended with his life ; for Fin- 
 gal made an expedition into Ireland, and restored, 
 after various vicissitudes of fortune, the family 
 of Conar to the possession of the kingdom. This 
 war is the subject of Temora ; the events, though 
 certainly heightened and embellished by poetry, 
 seem, notwithstanding, to have their foundation 
 in true history. 
 
 Temora contains not only the history of the 
 first migration of the Caledonians into Ireland, 
 it also preserves some important facts, concern- 
 ing the first settlement of the Firbolg, or Bclgx 
 of Britain, in that kingdom, under their leader 
 Larthon, who was ancestor to Cairbar and Cath- 
 mor, who successively mounted the Irish throne, 
 after the death of Cormac, the son of Artho. I 
 forbear to transcribe the passage, on account of 
 its length. It is the song of Fonar, the bard ; 
 towards the latter end of the seventh book of
 
 ,12 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING- 
 
 Temora. As the generations from Larthon to 
 Cathmor, to whom the episode is addressed, are 
 not marked, as arc those of the family of Conar, 
 the first king of Ireland, we can form no judg- 
 ment of the time of the settlement of the Fir- 
 bolg. It is, however, probable, it was some 
 time before the Gael, or Caledonians, settled in 
 Ulster. One important fact may be gathered 
 from this history, that the Irish had no king be- 
 fore the latter end of the first century. Fingal 
 lived, it is supposed, in the third century ; so 
 Conar, the first monarch of the Irish, who was 
 his grand-uncle, cannot be placed farther back 
 than the close of the first. To establish this fact, 
 is to lay at once aside the pretended antiquities 
 of the Scots and Irish, and to get quit of the 
 long list of kings which the latter give us for a 
 millenium before. 
 
 Of the affairs of Scotland, it is certain, no- 
 thing can be depended upon, prior to the reign 
 of Fergus, the son of Ere, who lived in the fifth 
 century. The true history of Ireland begins 
 somewhat later than that period. Sir James 
 Ware *, who was indefatigable in his researches 
 
 * War. de antiq. Hjbern. prae, p. 1.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 43 
 
 after the antiquities of his country, rejects, as 
 mere fiction and idle romance, all that is related 
 of the ancient Irish, before the time of St Pa- 
 trick, and the reign of Leogaire. It is from this 
 consideration, that he begins his history at the 
 introduction of Christianity ; remarking, that all 
 that is delivered down, concerning the times of 
 Paganism, were tales of late invention, strangely 
 mixed with anachronisms and inconsistencies. 
 Such being the opinion of Ware, who had col- 
 lected, with uncommon industry and zeal, all 
 the real and pretendedly ancient manuscripts, 
 concerning the history of his country, we may, 
 on his authority, i-eject the improbable and self- 
 condemned tales of Keating and O'Flaherty. 
 Credulous aud puerile to the last degree, they 
 have disgraced the antiquities they meant to 
 establish. It is to be wished, that some able 
 Irishman, who understands the language and re- 
 cords of his country, may redeem, ere it is too 
 late, the genuine antiquities of Ireland, from the 
 hands of these idle fabulists. 
 
 By comparing the history in these poerns with 
 the legends of the Scots and Irish writers, and, 
 by afterwards examining both by the test of the 
 Roman authors, it is easy to discover which fs
 
 41 A DISSERTATION CONCE11XIN& 
 
 the most probable. Probability is all that caft 
 be established on the authority of tradition, over 
 dubious and uncertain. But when it favours the 
 hypothesis laid down by cotemporary writers of 
 undoubted voracity, and, as it were, finishes the 
 figure of which they only drew the out-line 1 ., it 
 ought, in the judgment of sober reason, to be 
 preferred to accounts framed in dark and distant 
 periods, with little judgment, and upon no au- 
 thority. 
 
 Concerning the period of more than a cen- 
 tury, which intervenes between Fingal and the 
 reign of Fergus, the son of Ere or Arcath, tra- 
 dition is dark and contradictory. Some trace 
 up the family of Fergus to a son of Fingal of that 
 name, who makes a considerable figure in Os- 
 sian's poems. The three elder sons of Fingal, 
 Ossian, Fillan, and Ryno, dying without issue, 
 the succession, of course, devolved upon Fer- 
 gus, the fourth son, and his posterity. This 
 Fergus, say some traditions, was the father of 
 Congal, whose son was Arcath, the father of 
 Fergus, properly called the first king of Scots ; 
 as it was in his time the Gael, who possessed the 
 western coast of Scotland, began to be distin- 
 guished, by foreigners, by the name of Scots.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 43 
 
 From thence-forward the Scots and Picts, as 
 distinct nations, became objects of attention to 
 the historians of other countries. The internal 
 state of the two Caledonian kingdoms has always 
 continued, and ever must remain, in obscurity 
 and fable. 
 
 It is in this epoch we must fix the beginning 
 of the decay of that species of heroism, which 
 subsisted in the days of Fingal. There are three 
 stages in human society. The first is the result 
 of consanguinity, and the natural affection of the 
 members of a family to one another. The se- 
 cond begins when property is established, and 
 men enter into associations for mutual defence 
 against the invasions and injustice of neighbours. 
 Mankind submit, in the third, to certain laws 
 and subordinations of government, to which they 
 trust the safety of their persons and property. 
 As the first is formed on nature, so, of course, it 
 is the most disinterested and noble. Men, in the 
 last, have leisure to cultivate the mind, and to 
 restore it, with reflection, to a primaeval dignity 
 of sentiment. The middle state is the region of 
 complete barbarism and ignorance. About the 
 beginning of the fifth century, the Scots and 
 Picts were advanced into the second stage, and,
 
 4'6' A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 consequently, into those circumscribed senti- 
 ments, which always distinguish barbarity. The 
 events which soon after happened did not at all 
 contribute to enlarge their ideas, or mend their 
 national character. 
 
 About the year 42(!>, the Romans, on account 
 of domestic commotions, entirely forsook Bri- 
 tain, finding it impossible to defend so distant a 
 frontier. The Picts and Scots, seizing this fa- 
 vourable opportunity, made incursions into the 
 deserted province. The Britons, enervated by 
 the slavery of several centuries, and those vices 
 which are inseparable from an advanced state of 
 civility, were not able to withstand the impetu- 
 ous, though irregular, attacks of a barbarous 
 enemy. In the utmost distress, they applied to 
 their old masters, the Romans, and (after the 
 unfortunate state of the Empire could not spare 
 aid) to the Saxons, a nation equally barbarous 
 and brave with the enemies of whom they were 
 so much afraid. Though the bravery of the 
 Saxons repelled the Caledonian nations for a 
 time, yet the latter found means to extend them- 
 selves, considerably, towards the south. It is, 
 in this period, we must place the origin of the 
 arts of civil life amons* the Scots. The seat of
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 47 
 
 government was removed from the mountains to 
 the plain and more fertile provinces of the south, 
 to be near the common enemy, in case of sudden 
 incursions. Instead of roving through unfre- 
 quented wilds, in search of subsistence, by means 
 of hunting, men applied to agriculture, and 
 raising of corn. This manner of life was the first 
 means of changing the national character. The 
 next thing which contributed to it, v.as their 
 mixture with strangers. 
 
 In the countries which the Scots had conquer- 
 ed from the Britons, it is probable the most of 
 the old inhabitants remained. These incorpo- 
 rating with the conquerors, taught them agricul- 
 ture, and other arts, which they themselves had 
 received from the Romans. The Scots, however, 
 in number as well as power, being the most pre- 
 dominant, retained still their language, and as 
 many of the customs of their ancestors as suited 
 with the nature of the country they possessed. 
 Kven the union of the two Caledonian kingdoms 
 did not much affect the national character. Be- 
 ing originally descended from the same stock, 
 the manners of the Picts and Scots were as simi- 
 lar as the different natures of the countries they 
 possessed permitted.
 
 48 A DISSERTATION- CO.VCERNINfc 
 
 What brought about a total change in the ge- 
 nius of the Scots nation, was their wars and 
 other transactions with the Saxons. Several 
 counties in the south of Scotland were alternate- 
 ly possessed by the two nations. They were 
 ceded, in the ninth age, to the Scots; and, it is 
 probable, that most of the Saxon inhabitants re- 
 mained in possession of their lands. During the 
 several conquests and revolutions in England, 
 many lied for refuge into Scotland, to avoid the 
 oppression of foreigners, or the tyranny of do- 
 mestic usurpers ; in so much, that the Saxon 
 race formed perhaps near one half of the Scot- 
 tish kingdom. The Saxon nranncrs and lan- 
 guage daily gained ground, on the tongue and 
 customs of the ancient Caledonians, till, at last, 
 the latter were entirely regulated to inhabitants 
 of the mountains, who were still unmixed with 
 strangers. 
 
 It was after the accession of territory which 
 the Scots received, upon the retreat of the Ro- 
 mans from Britain, that the inhabitants of the 
 Highlands were divided into clans. The king, 
 when he kept his court in the mountains, was 
 considered, by the whole nation, as the chief of 
 their blood. Their small number, as well as the
 
 THE POEMS OF OSS1AN. 4J) 
 
 presence of their prince, prevented those divi- 
 sions which afterwards sprung forth into so many 
 separate tribes. When the seat of government 
 was removed to the south, those who remained 
 in the Highlands were, of course, neglected. 
 They naturally formed themselves into small so- 
 cieties, independent of one another. Each so- 
 ciety had its own regulus, who either was, or in 
 the succession of a few generations, was regard- 
 ed as chief of their blood. The nature of the 
 country favoured an institution of this sort. A 
 few valleys, divided from one another by exten- 
 sive heaths and impassable mountains, form the 
 face of the Highlands. In these valleys the chiefs 
 fixed their residence. Round them, and almost 
 within sight of their dwellings, were the habita- 
 tions of their relations and dependents. 
 
 The seats of the Highland chiefs were neither 
 disagreeable nor inconvenient. Surrounded with 
 mountains and hanging woods, they were cover- 
 ed from the inclemency of the weather. Near 
 them generally ran a pretty large river, which, 
 discharging itself not far off, into an arm of the 
 !-ea, or extensive lake, swarmed with variety of 
 fish. The woods were stocked with wild-fowl ; 
 and the heaths and mountains behind them were 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 the natural scat of the red-deer and roe. If we 
 make allowance for the backward state of agri- 
 culture, the valleys were not unfertile ; afford- 
 ing, if not all the conveniences, at least the ne- 
 cessaries of life. Here the chief lived, the su- 
 preme judge and lawgiver of his own people ; but 
 his sway was neither severe nor unjust. As the 
 populace regarded him as the chief of their blood, 
 so he, in return, considered them as members of 
 his family. His commands, therefore, though 
 absolute and decisive, partook more of the au- 
 thority of a father, than ot the rigour of a judge. 
 Though the whole territory of the tribe was con- 
 sidered as the property of the chief, yet his vas- 
 sals made him no other consideration for their 
 lands than services, neither burdensome nor fre- 
 quent. As he seldom went from home, he was 
 at no expencc. His table was supplied by his 
 own herds, and what his numerous attendants 
 killed in hunting. 
 
 In this rural kind of magnificence, the High- 
 land chiefs lived, for many ages. At a distance 
 from the seat of government, and secured by the 
 inaccessibleness of their country, they were free 
 and independent. As they had little communi- 
 cation with strangers, the customs of their an-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSJAX. 51 
 
 cestors remained among them, and their lan- 
 guage retained its original purity. Naturally 
 fond of military fame, and remarkably attached 
 to the memory of their ancestors, they delighted 
 in traditions and songs, concerning the exploits 
 of their nation, and especially of their own par- 
 ticular families. A succession of bards was re- 
 tained in every clan, to hand down the memora- 
 ble actions of their forelathers. As Fingal and 
 his chiefs were the most renowned names in tra- 
 dition, the bards took care to place them in the 
 genealogy of every great family. They became 
 famous among the people, and an object of fic- 
 tion and poetry to the bards. 
 
 The bards erected their immediate patrons 
 into heroes, and celebrated them in their songs. 
 As the circle of their knowledge was narrow, 
 their ideas were confined in proportion. A few 
 happy expressions, and the manners they repre- 
 sent, may please those who understand the lan- 
 guage ; their obscurity and inaccuracy would 
 di^ust in a translation. It was chiefly for this 
 n, that I have rejected wholly the works of 
 the bards in my publications. Ossian acted in 
 a more extensive sphere, and his ideas ought to 
 be more noble an-.! universal ; neither gives he,
 
 52 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 I presume, so many of those peculiarities, which 
 are only understood in a certain period or coun- 
 try. The other bards have their beauties, but 
 not in this species of composition. Their rhimes, 
 only calculated to kindle a martial spirit among 
 the vulgar, afford very little pleasure to genuine 
 taste. This observation only regards their, poems 
 of the heroic kind ; in every inferior species of 
 poetry they are more successful. They express 
 the tender melancholy of desponding love, with 
 simplicity and nature. So well adiif led are the 
 sounds of the words to the sentiment , that, even 
 without any knowledge of the language, they 
 pierce and dissolve the heart. Successful love 
 is expressed with peculiar tenderness and ele- 
 gance. In all their compositions, except the 
 heroic, which was solely calculated to animate 
 the vulgar, they give us the genuine language of 
 the heart, without any of those affected orna- 
 ments of phraseology, which, though intended 
 to beautify sentiments, divest them of their na- 
 tural force. The ideas, it is confessed, are too 
 local to be admired in another language ; to 
 those who are acquainted with the manners they 
 represent, and the scenes they describe, tho\' 
 must afford pleasure and satisfaction.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 53 
 
 It was the locality of their description and 
 sentiment, that, probably, has kept them hither- 
 to in the obscurity of an almost lost language. 
 The ideas of an unpolished period are so con- 
 trary to the present advanced state of society, 
 that more than a common mediocrity of taste is 
 required to relish them as they deserve. Those 
 who alone are capable of transferring ancient 
 poetry into a modern language, might be better 
 employed in giving originals of their own, were 
 it not for that wretched envy and meanness which 
 affects to despise cotemporary genius. My first 
 publication was merely accidental. Had I then, 
 met with less approbation, my after pursuits 
 would have been more profitable ; at least, I 
 might have continued to be stupid, without being 
 branded with dulness. 
 
 These poems may furnish light to antiquaries, 
 as well as some pleasure to the lovers of poetry. 
 The first population of Ireland, its first kings, 
 and several circumstances which regard its con- 
 nection of old with the south and north of Bri- 
 tain, are presented in several episodes. The sub- 
 ject and catastrophe of the poem are founded 
 upon facts, which regarded the first peopling of 
 that country, and the contests between the two
 
 0-i A DISSERTATION- COXCKUXIXC, 
 
 British nations, who originally inhabited that 
 island. In a preceding part of this Dissertation, 
 
 I have shewn how superior the probability of 
 this system is to the undigested fictions of the 
 Irish bards, and the more recent and regular 
 legends of both Irish and Scottish historians. I 
 menu not to give offence to the abettors of the 
 hiiih antiquities of the two nations, though I 
 hnvc all along expressed my doubts, concerning 
 the veracity and abilities of those who deliver 
 down their ancient history. For my own part, 
 I prefer the national fame, arising from a lew 
 certain facts, to the legendary and uncertain an- 
 nals of ages of remote and obscure antiquity. 
 No kingdom now established in Europe can lire- 
 tend to equal antiquity with that of the Scots, 
 inconsiderable as it may appear in other respects, 
 even according to my system, so that it is al to- 
 gether needless to fix its origin a fictitious mil- 
 Ic nium before. 
 
 Since the first publication of these poems, 
 many insinuations have been made, and doubts 
 arisen, concerning their authenticity. Whether 
 these suspicions are suggested by prejudice, or 
 are only the effects of malice, I neither know 
 nor care. Those who have doubted my veracity
 
 THE POEU9 OF OSSIAN. 55 
 
 have paid a compliment to my genius ; and, 
 were even the allegation true, my self-denial 
 might have atoned for my fault. Without va- 
 nity I say it, I think I could write tolerable 
 poetry ; and I assure my antagonists, that I 
 should not translate what I could not imitate. 
 
 As prejudice is the effect of ignorance, I am 
 not surprised at its being general. An age that 
 produces few marks of genius ought to be spa- 
 ring of admiration. The truth is, the bulk of 
 mankind have ever been led by rqjutation more 
 than taste, in articles of literature. If all the Ro- 
 mans, who admired Virgil, understood his beau- 
 ties, lie would have scarce deserved to have come 
 down to us, through so many centuries. Unless 
 genius were in fashion, Homer himself might 
 have written in vain. He that wishes to come 
 with weight, on the superficial, must skim the 
 surface in their own shallow way. Were my 
 aim to gain the many, I would write a madrigal 
 sooner than an heroic poem. Laberius himself 
 would be always sure of more followers than So- 
 phocles. 
 
 Some who doubt the authenticity of this work, 
 with peculiar acutencss appropriate them to the 
 Irish nation. Though it is not easy to conceive
 
 56" A DISSERTATION" CONCERNING 
 
 how these poems can belong to Ireland and to 
 me at once, I shall examine the subject, without 
 further animadversion on the blunder. 
 
 Of all the nations descended from the ancient 
 Celtse, the Scots and Irish are the most similar 
 in language, customs, and manners. This ar- 
 gues a more intimate connection between them, 
 than a remote descent from the great Celtic 
 stock. It is evident, in short, that at some one 
 period or other, they formed one society, were 
 subject to the same government, and were, in all 
 respects, one and the same people. How they 
 became divided, which the colony, or which the 
 mother nation, I have in another work amply 
 discussed. The first circumstance that induced 
 me to disregard the vulgarly-received opinion of 
 the Hibernian extraction of the Scottish nation, 
 was my observations on their ancient language. 
 That dialect of the Celtic tongue, spoken in the 
 north of Scotland, is much more pure, more 
 agreeable to its mother language, and more 
 abounding with primitives, than that now spoken, 
 or even that which has been written for some 
 centuries back, amongst the most unmixed part 
 of the Irish nation. A Scotchman, tolerably con- 
 versant in his own language, understands an Irish
 
 THE POEMS OP OSSIAN". 57 
 
 composition, from that derivative analogy which 
 it has to the Galic of North Britain. An Irish- 
 man, on the other hand, without the aid of study, 
 can never understand a composition in the Gae- 
 lic tongue. This affords a proof that the Scotch 
 Galic is the most original, and, consequently, 
 the language of a more ancient and unmixed 
 people. The Irish, however backward they may 
 be to allow any thing to the prejudice of their 
 antiquity, seem inadvertently to acknowledge it, 
 by the very appellation they give to the dialect 
 they speak. They call their own language Gae- 
 lic Eirinach, i. e. Caledonian Irish, when, on 
 the contrary, they call the dialect of North Bri- 
 tain, a Gaelic, or the Caledonian tongue, em- 
 phatically. A circumstance of this nature tends 
 more to decide which is the most ancient nation, 
 than the united testimonies of a whole legion of ig- 
 norant bards and senachies, who, perhaps, never 
 dreamed of bringing the Scots from Spain to Ire- 
 land, till some one of them, more learned than the 
 rest, discovered, that the Romans called the first 
 Iberia, and the latter Hibernia, On such a slight 
 foundation were probably built the romantic fic- 
 tions concerning the Milesians of Ireland. 
 
 From internal proofs it sufficiently appears,
 
 58 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 that the pot-ins published under the name of Os- 
 sian, are not of Irish composition. The favou- 
 rite chinuera, that Ireland is the mothcr-c. 
 try of thf Scot*, is totally subverted and ruined. 
 The fictions conci-riiing the antiquities of that 
 country, which were forming for ages, and grow- 
 ing as they came down, on the hands of succes- 
 sive seimchk's and fileas, are found, at last, to 
 be the spurious brood of modern and ignorant 
 ages. To those who know how tenacious the 
 Irish are, of their pretended Iberian descent, tins 
 alone is proof sufficient, that poems, so subver- 
 sive of their system, could never be produced by 
 an Hibernian bard. But when we look to the 
 language, it is so different from the Irish dialect, 
 that it would be as ridiculous to think that Mil- 
 ton's Paradise Lost could be wrote by a Scottish 
 peasant, as to suppose that the poems ascribed 
 to Ossian were writ in Ireland. 
 
 The pretensions of Ireland to Ossian proceed 
 from another quarter. There are handed down, 
 in that country, traditional poems, concerning 
 the. Fiona, or the heroes of Fion Mac Comnal. 
 This Fion, say the Irish annalists, was general 
 of the militia of Ireland, in the reign of Cormac, 
 hi the third century. Where Keating and O'Fla-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAtf. 5<) 
 
 herty learned that Ireland had an embodied mi- 
 litia so early, is not easy for me to determine. 
 Their information certainly did not come from 
 the Irish poems concerning Fion. I have just 
 now in my hands all that remain of those com- 
 positions ; but, unluckily for the antiquities of 
 Ireland, they appear to be the work of a very 
 modern period. Every stanza, nay almost every 
 line, affords striking proofs that they cannot be 
 three centuries old. Their allusions to the man- 
 nerb and customs of the fifteenth century are so 
 )i; ;iy, that it is matter of wonder to me how 
 any one could dream of their antiquity. They 
 are entirely writ in that romantic taste which 
 prevailed two ages ago. Giants, enchanted cas- 
 tles, dwarfs, palfreys, witches, and magicians, 
 form the whole circle of the poet's invention. 
 The celebrated Fion could scarcely move from 
 one hillock to another, without encountering a 
 giant, or being entangled in the circles of a ma- 
 gician. Witches on broomsticks were continu- 
 ally hovering round him like crows ; and lie had 
 freed enchanted virgins in every valley in Ire- 
 land. In short, Fion, great as he was, passed a 
 disagreeable life. Not only had he to engage all 
 the mischiefs in his own country, foreign armies
 
 00 A DISSERTATION CONCEUMNft 
 
 invaded him, assisted by magicians and witches, 
 and headed by kings as tall as the main-mast of 
 a first rate. It must be owned, however, that 
 Fion was not inferior to these in height. 
 
 A chos air Cromleacli, druim-ard, 
 Chos cile air Crom-meal dubh, 
 Thoga Fion le lamh mhoir 
 An d'uisge o Lubhair ua fruth. 
 
 \Vitli one foot on Crcruleach his brow, 
 The other on Crommal the dark, 
 Fion took up with his large Land 
 The water from Lubar of the streams. 
 
 Cromleach and Crommal were two mountains 
 in the neighbourhood of one another, in Ulster, 
 and the river Lubar ran through the interme- 
 diate valley. The property of such a monster as 
 this Fion, I should never have disputed with any 
 nation. But the bard himself, in the poem from 
 which the above quotation is taken, cedes him 
 to Scotland. 
 
 Fion o Albin, siol nan laoich ! 
 Fion from Albion, race of heroes ! 
 
 Were it allowable to contradict the authority 
 of a bard at this distance of time, I should have 
 given as my opinion, that this enormous Fioa
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 6i 
 
 Avas of the race of the Hibernian giants, of Rua- 
 nus, or some other celebrated name, rather than 
 a native of Caledonia, whose inhabitants, now, 
 at least, are not remarkable for their stature. 
 As for the poetry, I leave it to the reader. 
 
 It' Fion was so remarkable for his stature, his 
 heroes had also other extraordinary properties. 
 In weight all the sons of strangers yielded to the 
 celebrated Toniosal ; and for hardness of skull, 
 and, perhaps, for thickness too, the valiant Os- 
 car stood unrivalled and alone. Ossian himself 
 had many singular and less delicate qualifications 
 than playing on the harp ; and the brave Cu- 
 thullin was of so diminutive a size, as to be ta- 
 ken for a child of two years of age, by the gigan- 
 tic Swaran. To illustrate this subject, I shall 
 here lay before the reader the history of some of 
 the Irish poems, concerning Fion Mac Comnal. 
 A translation of these pieces, if well executed, 
 might afford satisfaction, in an uncommon way, 
 to the public. But this ought to be the work of 
 a native of Ireland. To draw forth from obscu- 
 rity the poems of my own country, has wasted 
 all the time I had alloted for the muses ; besides, 
 I am too diffident of my own abilities, to under- 
 take such a work. A eentlemaji in Dublin ac-
 
 J^2 A DISSERTATION' CONCERNING 
 
 cused me to the public of committing blunders 
 and absurdities in translating the language 01 my 
 own country, and that before any translation of 
 mine appeared*. How the gentleman came to 
 see my blunders before I committed them, is not 
 easy to determine ; if he did not conclude that, 
 as a Scotsman, and, of course, descended of the 
 Milesian race, I might have committed some of 
 those oversights which, perhaps very justly, are 
 said to be peculiar to them. 
 
 * In Faulkner's Dublin Journal, of the first Decem- 
 ber, 1761, appeared the following advertisement : (wo 
 veeks before my first publication appeared in London. 
 
 Speedily will be published, by a gentleman of this 
 kingdom, who hath been, for some time past, employed 
 in translating and writing historical Notes to 
 
 FINGAL, A POEM. 
 
 Originally wrote in the Irish or Erse language. In the 
 preface to winch, the translator, who is a perfect master 
 of the Irish tongue, will give an account of the manners 
 and customs of the ancient Irish or Scotch ; and, there- 
 foie, most liumbiy intreats the public, to wait lor his 
 edition, which will appear in a short lime, as he will set 
 forth all the blunders and absurdities in the edition now 
 printing in London, and shew the ignorance of the En- 
 glish translator, in lii-> knowledge ot Irish grammar, not 
 understanding any part of that accidence.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 63 
 
 From the whole tenor of the Irish poems, con- 
 cerning the Fiona, it appears that Fion Mac Com- 
 nal flourished in the reign of Cormac, which is 
 placed, by the universal consent of the sena- 
 cliies, in the third century. They even fix the 
 death of Fingal in tiie year 286, yet his son Os- 
 sian is made contemporary with St Patrick, who 
 preached the gospel in Ireland about the middle 
 of the fifth age. Ossian, though at that time he 
 must have been two hundred and fifty years of 
 age, had a daughter young enough to become 
 wife to the saint. On account of this family 
 connection, Patrick of the Psalms, for so the 
 apostle of Ireland is emphatically called in the 
 poems, took great delight in the company of Os- 
 sian, and in hearing the great actions of his fa- 
 mily. The saint sometimes threw off the auste- 
 rity of his profession, drunk freely, and had his 
 soul properly warmed with wine, to receive, with 
 becoming enthusiasm, the poems of his father-in- 
 law. One of the poems begins with this piece of 
 useful information. 
 
 Lo don rabh Padric na mhur, 
 Gnu Sailin air uidh, acli a gol, 
 GliiuaU e ihiiih O-siau mhic Fhion, 
 O san leis bu Lilian a ghloir.
 
 04 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 The title of this poem is Teantach mor na Fi- 
 ona. It appears to have been founded on the 
 same story of the battle of Lora. The circum- 
 stances and catastrophe in both are much the 
 same ; but the Irish Ossian discovers the age in 
 which he lived, by an unlucky anachronism. Af- 
 ter describing the total route of Erragon, he very 
 gravely concludes with this remarkable anec- 
 dote, that none of the foe escaped, but a few \vlio 
 were permitted to go on a pilgrimage to the Ho- 
 ly Land. This circumstance fixes the date of 
 the composition of the piece some centuries af- 
 ter the famous croisade ; for, it is evident, that 
 the poet thought the time of the croisade so an- 
 cient, that he confounds it with the age of Fin- 
 gal. Erragon, in the course of this poem, is 
 often called, 
 
 Riogh Lochlin an do shloigh, 
 King of Denmark of two nations, 
 
 which alludes to the union of the kingdoms of 
 Norway and Denmark ; a circumstance which 
 happened under Margaret de Waldcmar, in the 
 close of the fourteenth age. Modern, however, 
 as tais pretended Ossian was, it is certain he li- 
 ved before the Irish had dreamed of appropria-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 65 
 
 ting Fion, or Fingal, to themselves. He con- 
 cludes the poem, with this reflection : 
 
 Na fagha ie conihthrom nan n' arm, 
 En-agon Mac Annir nan lann glas 
 'San n' Albin ui n' abairtair Triath 
 Agus ghlaoite an n' Fhiona as. 
 
 " Had Erragon, son of Annir of gleaming 
 swords, avoided the equal contest of arms, 
 (single combat) no chief should have afterwards 
 been numbered in Albion, and the heroes of 
 Fion should no more be named." 
 
 The next poem that falls under our observa- 
 tion, is Cath-cabhra, or, The Death of Oscar. 
 This piece is founded on the same story which 
 we have in the first book of Temora. So little 
 thought the author of Cath-cabhra of making 
 Oscar his countryman, that, in the course of 
 two hundred lines, of which the poems consist, 
 he puts the following expression in the mouth of 
 the hero : 
 
 Aibin an sa d' roiua m' arach. 
 
 Albion, where I was born and bred. 
 
 The poem contains almost all the incident- in 
 the first book of Temora. In one circumstance; 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 66 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 the bard differs materially from Ossian. Oscar, 
 after he was mortally wounded by Cairbar, was 
 carried by his people to a neighbouring hill, 
 which commanded a prospect of the sea. A 
 fleet appeared at a distance, and the hero ex- 
 claims with joy, 
 
 Loingeas mo shean-athair at' an 
 'S iad a tiachd le cabhair chugain, 
 O Albin na if ionia stuagh. 
 
 " It is the fleet of my grandfather, coming 
 with aid to our field, from Albion of many 
 waves !" 
 
 The testimony of this bard is sufficient to con- 
 fute the idle fictions of Keating and O'Flaherty ; 
 for, though he is far from being antient, it is 
 probable he flourished a full century before these 
 historians. He appears, however, to have been 
 a much better Christian than chronologer ; for 
 Fion, though he is placed two centuries before 
 St Patrick, very devoutly recommends the soul 
 of his grandson to his Redeemer. 
 
 Duan a Gharibh Mac-Starn is another Irish 
 poem of high repute. The grandeur of its 
 images, and its propriety of sentiment, might
 
 4'HE POEMS OP OSSIAN. O/ 
 
 kave induced me to give a translation of it, had 
 not I some expectations, which are now over, of 
 seeing it in the collection of the Irish Ossian's 
 poems, promised twelve years since to the pub- 
 lic. The author descends sometimes from the 
 region of the sublime to low and indecent de- 
 scription ; the last of which the Irish translator 
 no doubt will choose to leave in the obscurity of 
 the original. In this piece Cuthullin is used 
 with very little ceremony, for he is oft called 
 the dog of Tara, in the county of Meath. This 
 severe title of the redoubtable Cuthullin, the 
 most renowned of Irish champions, proceeded 
 from the poet's ignorance of etymology. Cu 
 voice, or commander, signifies also a dog. The 
 poet chose the last, as the most noble appella- 
 tion for his hero. 
 
 The subject of the poem is the same with that 
 of the epic poem of Fingal. Caribh Mac-Starn 
 is the same with Ossian's Swaran, the son of 
 Starno. His single combats with, r.nd his vic- 
 tory over all the heroes of Ireland, excepting the 
 celebrated dog of Tara, i. e. Cuthullin, afford 
 matter for two hundred lines of tolerable poetry. 
 Caribh's progress in search of Cuthullin, and 
 his intrigue with the gigantic Emir-bragal, that.
 
 68 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 hero's wife, enables the poet to extend his piece 
 to four hundred lines. This author, it is true, 
 makes Cuthullin a native of Ireland ; the gigan- . 
 tic Emir-bragal he calls the guiding star of the 
 women of Ireland. The property of this enor- 
 mous lady I shall not dispute with him or any 
 other. But as he speaks with great tenderness 
 of the daughters of the convent, and throws out. 
 . some hints against the English nation, it is pro- 
 bable he lived in too modern a period to be inti- 
 mately acquainted with the genealogy of Cuthul- 
 lin. 
 
 Another Irish Ossian, for there were many, 
 as appears from their difference in language and 
 sentiment, speaks very dogmatically of Fion 
 Mac Comnal as an Irishman. Little can be 
 said for the judgment of this poet, and less for 
 his delicacy of sentiment. The history of one 
 of his episodes may at once stand as a specimen 
 of his want of both. Ireland, in the days of 
 Fion, happened to be threatened with an inva- 
 sion by three great potentates, the kings of 
 Lochlin, Sweden, and France. It is needless to 
 insist upon the impropriety of a French invasion 
 of Ireland ; it is sufficient for me to be faithful 
 to the language of my author. Fion, upon e-
 
 THE TOEMS OF OSSIAN. 69 
 
 cciving intelligence of the intended invasion, sent 
 Ca-olt, Ossian, and Oscar, to watch the bay in 
 which it was apprehended the enemy was to 
 land. Oscar was the worst choice of a scout 
 that could be made, for, brave as he was, he had 
 the bad property of falling very often asleep on 
 his post, nor was it possible to awake him, with- 
 out cutting off one of his fingers, or clashing a 
 large stone against his head. When- the enemy 
 appeared, Oscar, very unfortunately, was asleep. 
 Ossian and Ca-olt consulted about the method 
 of wakening him, and they, at last, fixed on the 
 stone, as the less dangerous expedient. 
 
 Gun tbog Caoiltc a chlach, nach gan, 
 Agus a n' aighai' chiean gun bhuail ; 
 Tri mil an tulloch gun chri', &c. 
 
 " Ca-olt took up a heavy stone, and struck 
 it against the hero's head. The hill shook for 
 
 o 
 
 three miles, as the stone rebounded and rolled 
 away." 
 
 Oscar rose in wrath, and his father gravely 
 desired him to spend his rage on his enemies, 
 which he did to so good purpose, that he singly 
 routed a whole wing of their army. The con-
 
 70 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 federate kings advanced, notwithstanding, till 
 they came to a narrow pass, possessed by the 
 celebrated Ton-iosal. This name is very sig- 
 nificant of the singular property of the hero who 
 bore it. Ton-iosal, though brave, was so hea- 
 vy and unwieldy, that when he sat down, it took 
 the whole force of an hundred men to set kim 
 upright on his feet again. Luckily for the pre- 
 servation of Ireland, the hero happened to be 
 standing when the enemy appeared, and he gave 
 so good an account of them, that Fion, upon 
 his arrival, found little to do, but to divide the, 
 spoil among his soldiers. 
 
 All these extraordinary heroes, Fion, Ossian. 
 Oscar, and Ca-olt, says the poet, were 
 
 Siol Erin na gorm Jann. 
 
 The sons of Erin of blue steel. 
 
 Neither shall I much dispute the matter with 
 him : He has my consent also to appropriate to 
 Ireland the celebrated Ton-iosal. I shall only 
 say, that they are different persons from those of 
 the same name in the Scotch poems ; and that, 
 though the stupendous valour of the first is so 
 remarkable, they have not been equally lucky 
 with the latter, in their poet. It is somcvvhal
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 71 
 
 extraordinary that Fion, who lived some ages 
 before St Patrick, swears like a very good Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 Air an Diu do chum gach case. 
 By God, who shaped every case. 
 
 It is worthy of being remarked, that, in the 
 line quoted, Ossian, who lived in St Patrick's 
 days, seems to have understood something of the 
 English, a language not then subsisting. A per- 
 son more sanguine for the honour of his coun- 
 try than I am, might argue, from this circum- 
 stance, that this pretendedly Irish Ossian was a 
 native of Scotland ; for my countrymen are uni- 
 versally allowed to have an exclusive right to 
 the second-sight. 
 
 From the instances given, the reader may form 
 a complete idea of the Irish compositions con- 
 cerning the Fiona. The greatest part of them 
 make the heroes of Fion, 
 
 Siol Albin a n'nioma caoile. 
 
 The race of Albion of many firths. 
 
 The rest make them natives of Ireland. But 
 the truth is, that their authority is of little con- 
 sequence on either side. From the instances I 
 have given, they appear to have been the work of
 
 7'2 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 a very modern period. The pious ejaculations 
 they contain, their allusions to the manners of 
 the times, fix them to the fifteenth century. 
 Had even the authors of these pieces avoided all 
 allusions to their own times, it is impossible that 
 the poems could pass for ancient, in the eyes of 
 any person tolerably conversant with the Irish 
 tongue. The idiom is so corrupted, and so 
 many words borrowed from the English, that the 
 language must have made considerable progress 
 in Ireland before the poems were written. 
 
 It remains now to shew how the Irish bards 
 begun to appropriate the Scottish Ossian and 
 his heroes to their own country. After the En- 
 glish conquest, many of the natives of Ireland, 
 averse to a foreign yoke, either actually were in 
 a state of hostility with the conquerors, or at 
 least paid little regard to their government. 
 The Scots, in those ages, were often in open, war, 
 and never in cordial friendship, with the En- 
 glish. The similarity of manners and language, 
 the traditions concerning their common origin, 
 and above all, their having to do with the same 
 enemy, created a free and friendly intercourse 
 between the Scottish and Irish nations. As the 
 custom of retaining bards and senachies was
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 73 
 
 common to both, so each no doubt had formed 
 a system of history, it matters not how much so- 
 ever fabulous, concerning their respective origin. 
 It \vas the natural policy of the times to recon- 
 cile the traditions of both nations together, and, 
 if possible, to reduce them from the same origi- 
 ginal stock. 
 
 The Saxon manners and language had, at 
 that time, m:ide great progress in the south of 
 Scotland. The ancient language, and the tra- 
 ditional history of the nation, became confined 
 entirely to the inhabitants of the Highlands, 
 then fallen, from several concurring circumstan- 
 ces, into the last degree of ignorance and bar- 
 barism. The Irish who, for some ages before the 
 conquest, had possessed a competent share of 
 that kind of learning which then prevailed in 
 Europe, found it no difficult matter to impose 
 their own fictions on the ignorant Highland se- 
 nachies. By flattering the vanity of the High- 
 landers with their long if- 1 , of Heremonian kings 
 and heroes, they, without contradiction, assu- 
 med to themselves the character of being the 
 mother nation of the Scots of Britain. At this 
 time, certainly, was established that Hibernian 
 system of the original of the Scots, which after-
 
 74 A DISSERTATION CONCERNING 
 
 wards, for want of any other, was universally 
 received. The Scots of the low country, who, 
 by losing the language of their ancestors, lost, 
 together with it, their national traditions, recei- 
 ved, implicitly, the history of their country, 
 from Irish refugees, or from Highland senachies, 
 persuaded over into the Hibernian system. 
 
 These circumstances are far from being ideal. 
 We have remaining many particular traditions, 
 which bear testimony to a fact, of itself abun- 
 dantly probable. What makes the matter iri- 
 contestible, is, that the ancient traditional ac- 
 counts of the genuine original of the Scots, have 
 been handed down without interruption. Though 
 a few ignorant senachics might be persuaded out 
 of their own opinion, by the smoothness of an 
 Irish tale, it was impossible to eradicate, from 
 among the bulk of the people, their own nation- 
 al traditions. These traditions afterwards so 
 much prevailed, that the Highlanders continue 
 totally unacquainted with the pretended Hiber- 
 nian extract of the Scots nation. Ignorant 
 chronicle writers, strangers to the ancient lan- 
 guage of their country, preserved only from fal- 
 ling to the ground so improbable a story. 
 
 This subject, perhaps, is pursued further than
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 75 
 
 it deserves ; but a discussion of the pretensions 
 of Ireland, was become in some measure neces- 
 sary. If the Irish poems concerning the Fiona 
 should appear ridiculous, it is but justice to ob- 
 serve, that they are scarcely more so than the 
 poems of other nations at that period. On 
 other subjects the bards of Ireland have display- 
 ed a genius for poetry. It was alone in matters 
 of antiquity, that they were monstrous in their 
 fables. Their love sonnets, and their elegies on 
 the death of persons worthy or renowned, a- 
 bound with simplicity, and a wild harmony of 
 numbers. They become more than an atone- 
 ment for their errors in every other species of 
 poetry. But the beauty of these species depends 
 so much on a certain cur iosaf elicit as of expres- 
 sion in the original, that they must appear much 
 to disadvantage in another lan<niage.
 
 A CRITICAL 
 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 , ON THE 
 
 POEMS OF OSSIAN. 
 
 BY HUGH BLAIR, D. D.
 
 A CRITICAL 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 OX THE 
 
 POEMS OF OSSIAX. 
 
 AMONG the monuments remaining of the an- 
 cient state of nations, few are more valuable 
 than their poems or songs. History, when it 
 treats of remote and dark ages, is seldom very 
 instructive. The beginnings of society, in every 
 country, are involved in fabulous confusion ; 
 and though they were not, they would furnish 
 few events worth recording. But, in every pe- 
 riod of society, human manners are a curious 
 spectacle ; and the most natural pictures of 
 ancient manners are exhibited in the ancient
 
 80 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 poems of nations. These present to us \\hatis 
 much more valuable than the history of such 
 transactions as a rude age can afford, the histo- 
 ry of human imagination and passion. They 
 make us acquainted with the notions and feel- 
 ings of our fellow-creatures in the most artless 
 ages ; discovering what objects they admired, 
 and what pleasures they pursued, before those 
 refinements of society had taken place, which 
 enlarge indeed, and diversify the transactions, 
 but disguise the manners of mankind. 
 
 Besides this merit, which ancient poems have 
 with philosophical observers of human nature, 
 they have another with persons of taste. They 
 promise some of the highest beauties of poetical 
 writing. Irregular ar.d unpolished we may ex- 
 pect the productions of uncultivated ages to be ; 
 but abounding, at the same time, with that en- 
 thusiasm, that vehemence and fire, which are 
 the soul of poetry. For, many circumstances of 
 those times which we call barbarous, arc favour- 
 able to the poetical spirit. That state in which 
 human nature shoots wild and free, though un- 
 fit for other improvements, certainly encourages 
 the high exertions of fancy and passion. 
 
 In the infancy of societies, men live scattered 
 1
 
 i'HE POEMS OF OSS1AN". 81 
 
 and dispersed in the midst of solitary rural 
 scenes, where the beauties of nature are their 
 chief entertainment. They meet with many ob- 
 jects, to them new and strange ; their wonder 
 and surprise are frequently excited ; and by the 
 sudden changes of fortune occurring in their un- 
 settled state of life, their passions are raised to 
 the utmost; their passions have nothing to re- 
 strain them, their imagination has nothing to 
 check it. They display themselves to one ano- 
 ther without disguise : and converse and act in 
 the uncovered simplicity of nature. As their 
 feelings are strong, so their language of itself as- 
 sumes a poetical turn. Prone to exaggerate, 
 they describe every thing in the strongest co- 
 lours ; which of course renders their speech pic- 
 turesque and figurative. Figurative language 
 owes its rise chiefly to two causes ; to the want 
 of proper names for objects, and to the influence 
 of imagination and passion over the form of ex- 
 pression. Both these causes concur in the in- 
 fancy of society. Figures are commonly con- 
 sidered as artificial modes of speech, devised by 
 orators and poets, after the world had advanced 
 to a refined state. The contrary of this is the 
 truth. Men never have used so many figure? 
 VOL. i. F
 
 82 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 of style, as in those rude ages, when, besides tin 
 power of a. warm imagination to suggest lively 
 images, the want of proper and precise terms for 
 the ideas they would express, obliged them to 
 have recourse to circumlocution, metaphor, 
 comparison, and all those substituted forms of 
 expression, which give a poetical air to lan- 
 guage. An American chief, at this day, ha- 
 rangues at the head of his tribe, in a more bold 
 metaphorical style, than a modern European 
 would adventure to use in an Epic poem. 
 
 In the progress of society, the genius and man- 
 ners of men undergo a change more favourable 
 to accuracy than to sprightliness and sublimity. 
 As the world advances, the understanding gains 
 ground upon the. imagination ; the understand- 
 ing is more exercised ; the imagination, less. 
 Fewer objects occur that arc new or surprising. 
 Men apply themselves to trace the causes of 
 things ; they correct and refine one another ; 
 they subdue or disguise their passions ; they 
 form their exterior manners upon one uniform 
 standard of politeness and civility. Human na- 
 ture is pruned according to method and rule. 
 Language advances from sterility to copiousness, 
 and at the same time from fervour and enthu-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 83 
 
 siasm, to correctness and precision. Style be- 
 comes more chaste ; but less animated. The 
 progress of the world in this respect resembles 
 the progress of age in man. The powers of ima- 
 gination are most vigorous and predominant in 
 youth ; those of the understanding ripen more 
 slowly, and often attain not to their maturity, 
 till the imagination begin to flag. Hence poe- 
 try, which is the child of imagination, is fre- 
 quently most glowing and animated in the first 
 ages of society. As the ideas of our youth are 
 remembered with a peculiar pleasure on account 
 of their liveliness and vivacity; so the most an- 
 cient poems have often proved the greatest fa- 
 vourites of nations. 
 
 Poetry has been said to be more ancient than 
 prose : and, however paradoxical such an asser- 
 tion may seem, yet, in a qualified sense, it is 
 true. Men certainly never conversed with one 
 another in regular numbers ; but even their or- 
 dinary language would, in ancient times, for the 
 reasons before assigned, approach to a poetical 
 style; and the first compositions transmitted to 
 posterity, beyond doubt, were, in a literal sense, 
 poems ; that is, compositions in which imagina- 
 tion had the chief hand, formed into some kind
 
 84 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 of numbers, and pronounced with a musical mo- 
 dulation or tone. Music or song has been found 
 coceval with society among the most barbarous 
 nations. The only subjects which could prompt 
 men, in their first rude state, to utter their 
 thoughts in compositions of any length, were 
 such as naturally assumed the tone of poetry ; 
 praises of their gods, or of their ancestors ; com- 
 memorations of their own warlike exploits; or 
 lamentations over their misfortunes. And be- 
 fore writing was invented, no other compositions 
 except songs or poems, could take such hold of 
 the imagination and memory, as to be preserved 
 by oral tradkion, and handed down from one 
 race to another. 
 
 Hence we may expect to find poems among 
 the antiquities of all nations. It is probable too, 
 that an extensive search would discover a cer- 
 tain degree of resemblance among all the most 
 ancient poetical productions, from whatever 
 country they have proceeded. In a similar state 
 of manners, similar objects and passions oper- 
 ating upon the imaginations of men, will stamp 
 their productions with the same general charac- 
 ter. Some diversity will, no doubt, be occasion- 
 ed by climate and genius. But mankind never
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 85 
 
 bear such resembling features, as they do in the 
 beginnings of society. Its subsequent revolu- 
 tions give rise to the principal distinctions among 
 nations ; and divert, into channels widely sepa- 
 rated, that current of human genius and man- 
 ners, which descends- originally from one spring. 
 What we have been long accustomed to call the 
 oriental vein of poetry, because some of the ear- 
 liest poetical productions have come to us from 
 the east, is probably no more oriental than occi- 
 dental ; it is characteristical of an age rather than 
 a country ; and belongs, in some measure, to all 
 nations at a certain period. Of this the works 
 ot Ossian seem to furnish a remarkable proof. 
 
 Our present subject leads us to investigate the 
 ancient poetical remains, not so much of the 
 east, or of the Greeks and Romans, as of the 
 northern nations ; in order to discover whether 
 the Gothic poetry has any resemblance to the 
 Celtic or Galic, which we are about to consider. 
 Though the Goths, under which name we usually 
 comprehend all the Scandinavian 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 earliest times, had 
 their poels and their songs. Their poets were
 
 X'j A C1UTICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 distinguished by the title of Scalders, and their 
 songs were termed Vyses *. Saxo Grammati- 
 cus, a Danish historian of considerable note, 
 who flourished in the thirteenth century, informs 
 
 * Olaus Worniius, in the appendix to his Treatise de. 
 Literatura Ruuica, has given a particular account of the 
 Gothic poetry, commonly called Runic, from Runes, 
 which signifies the Gothic letters. He informs us that 
 , there were no fewer than 136 different kinds of measure 
 or verse used iu their Vyses ; and though we are accus- 
 tomed to call rhyme a Gothic invention, lie says express- 
 ly, that among all these measures, rhyme, or correspon- 
 dence of final syllables, was never employed. He ana- 
 lyses the structure of one of these kinds of verse, that in 
 which the poem of Ludbrog, afterwards quoted, is writ- 
 ten : which exhibits a very singular species of harmony, 
 if it can be allowed that name, depending neither upon 
 rhyme nor upon metrical feet, or quantity of syllables, 
 but chiefly upon the number of the syllables, and the 
 disposition ol the letters. In every stanza was an equal 
 number of lines : in every line six syllables. In each 
 distich, it was requisite that three words should begin 
 with the same letter ; two of the corresponding words 
 placed in the first line of the distich, the third, in the se- 
 cond line. In each line were also required two sylla- 
 bles, but never, the final ones, formed either of the same 
 consonants, or same vowels. As an example of this 
 measure, Olaus gives us these two Latin lines construct- 
 <"d exactly according to the above rules of Hume verse :
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN*. 8? 
 
 us that very many of these songs, containing the 
 undent traditionary stories of the country, were 
 found engraven upon rocks in the old Runic 
 character ; several of which he has translated in- 
 to Latin, and inserted into his History. But 
 his versions are plainly so paraphrastical, and 
 
 Christus caput nostrum 
 Coronet te bonis. 
 
 The initial letters of Christus, Caput, and Coronet, make 
 the three corresponding letters of the distich. In the 
 first line, the first syllables of Christus and of nostrum : 
 in the second line, the on in coronet and in boms make 
 the requisite correspondence of syllables. Frequent in- 
 versions and transpositions were permitted in this poe- 
 try ; which would naturally follow from such laborious 
 attention to the collocation of words. 
 
 The curious on this subject may consult likewise Dr 
 Hicks s Thesaurus Linguarum Septt ntrionalium ; parti- 
 cularly the 5!3d chapter of his Grrtiumatica Anglo-Saxo- 
 nica & Maeso-Gothica ; where they will find a full ac- 
 count ci the structure of the Anglo Saxon verse, which 
 nearly resembled the Gothic. They will find also some 
 specimens both of Gothic and Saxon poetry. An ex- 
 tract which Dr Hicks has given from the work of one .of 
 the Danish Scaldt-rs, entitled, Hervarer Sa^a, containing 
 an evocation from the dead, may be found in the 6th vo- 
 lume of Miscellany Poems, published by Mr Dryden.
 
 38 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 forced into such an imitation of the style and tho 
 measures of the Roman poets, that one can form 
 no judgment from them of the native spirit of 
 the original. A more curious monument of the 
 true Gothic poetry is preserved by Olaus Wor- 
 mius in his book de Literatura Runica. It is an 
 Epicedium, or funeral song, composed by Reg- 
 ner Lodbrog ; and translated by Olaus, word 
 for word from the original. This Lodbrog was 
 a king of Denmark, who lived in the eighth cen- 
 tury, famous for his wars and victories ; and at 
 the same time an eminent Scalder or poet. It 
 was his misfortune to fall at last into the hands 
 of one of his enemies, by whom he was thrown 
 into prison, and condemned to be destroyed by- 
 serpents. In this situation he solaced himself 
 with rehearsing all the exploits of his life. The 
 poem is divided into twenty-nine stanzas, of ten 
 lines each ; and every stanza begins with these 
 words, Pugnavimus Ensibus, We have fought 
 with our swords. Olaus' version is in many 
 places so obscure as to be hardly intelligible. I 
 have subjoined the whole below, exactly as he 
 has published it; and shall translate as much a^
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 89 
 
 jnay give the English reader an idea of the spirit 
 and strain of this kind of poetry *. 
 
 " We have fought with our swords. I was 
 " young, when, towards the east, in the bay of 
 
 l* 
 
 Pugnavimus Eusibus 
 Haud post longtun it mpus 
 Cum in Gotlandia accessiinus 
 , Ad serpcutis inimensi necein 
 Tune iiupetravimus Thoram 
 Ex hoc vocarunt me virurn 
 Quod serpenteiu translodi 
 Hirsutam braccam ob illam cedem 
 Cuspide ictum intuli in colubrum 
 Ferro lucidorum stupendiorum. 
 
 Multura juvenis fui quando acquisivirairs 
 Orientetn versus in Oreonico frcto 
 Vulneruni amnes avidae feras 
 Et flavipedi avi 
 Accepiraus ibidem sonuerunt 
 Ad sublimes galcas 
 Dura ferra magnam escani 
 Omnis erat oceanus vulnus 
 Vadavit cor v us in sanguine Cassoruiu.
 
 S)0 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " Oreon, we made torrents of blood flow, to 
 " gorge the ravenous beast of prey, and the yel- 
 " low-footed bird. There resounded the hard 
 " steel upon the lofty helmets of men. The 
 
 Alto, tulimus tune lanceas 
 
 Quuudo viginti annos uumeraviraus 
 
 t celebrem laudcra comparavimus passim 
 
 Vicimus octo barories 
 
 In oriente ante Dimfni porlum 
 
 Aquihe iiupetravimus tune suflicientem 
 
 Hospitii sumptum in ilia strage 
 
 Sudor decidit in vulueruur 
 
 Oecano perdidit exercitus aetaleiu. 
 
 4. 
 
 Pugnjc facia copia 
 Cum llelsingiauos postulavimus 
 Ad aulam Odiui 
 
 Naves direxiiuus in cstium Vistula 1 
 Mucro potuit turn mordere 
 Oinuis erat vulnus uada 
 Terra rubct'acta Ctilido 
 Frendebat gladius in loricas 
 Gladius fiudcbat Ciypcos. 
 
 6. 
 
 Memini neminem tune fugiE.se 
 Priusquam in navibus
 
 THK POEMS OF OSSIAN. $1 
 
 ; - whole ocean was one wound. The crow waded 
 " in the blood of the slain. When we had num- 
 ; ' bered twenty years, we lifted our spears on 
 " high, and every where spread our renown. 
 
 Heraudus in bello caderet 
 Non findit navibus 
 Alius baro praestantior 
 JMare ad purtum 
 
 In navibus longis po-t iilum 
 Sic attulit princeps passim 
 Alacre in be-ilum cor. 
 
 6. 
 
 Exercitus abjecit clypeos 
 Cum hasta volavit 
 Ardua ad viroruin pcctora 
 Moaiordit Scarforum cautes 
 Gladius in ))ugna 
 Sanguiueus erat C^peus 
 Antequain Rafno rex caderet 
 Fluxit ex viroruin capitibus 
 Calidus in loricas sudor. 
 
 7. 
 
 Habere potuerunt turn corvi 
 Ante Indirorum insulas 
 Sufficientem praedam dilaniandam 
 Acquisivnnus leris carnivoris 
 Plenum prandiuin unico'acfi
 
 $2 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OTS 
 
 " Eight barons we overcame in the east, before 
 " the port of Diminum ; and plentifully we 
 " feasted the eagle in that slaughter. The warm 
 " stream of wounds ran into the ocean. The 
 
 Difficile erat unius facere mentionem 
 Oriente sole 
 Spicula vidi pungere 
 Propulerunt arcus ex se ferra. 
 
 8. 
 
 Altum mugierunt crises 
 Antequam in Laneo campo 
 Eislinus rex cecidit 
 Processimus auro ditati 
 Ad terrain prostratorum dimicaudum 
 Gladius secuit Clypeorum 
 Picturas in galearum convcutu 
 Cervicum mustimi ex vulneribus 
 Diffusum per cerebrum fissum. 
 
 9. 
 
 Tenitnus Clypeos in sanguine 
 Cum hastain unxiums 
 Ante Boring holmum 
 Telorum uubes disrumpunt clypeum 
 Extrusit arcus ex se nielallum 
 Volnir cecidit in conilictu 
 Non crat illo rex major 
 Caesi dispersi late per littora 
 Fera? amplectebantur escara.
 
 THE POEMS OF*OSSIAN. 93 
 
 " army fell before us. When we steered our 
 " ships into the mouth of the Vistula, we sent 
 " the Helsingians to the Hall of Odin. Then 
 " did the sword bite. The waters were all one 
 
 10. 
 
 Pngna manifesto crescebat 
 Antequam Freyr rex caderet 
 In Flandroriun terra 
 Caepit caeruleus ad incidendum 
 Sanguine illitusin auream 
 Loncam in pugna 
 Durus armorum mucro olim 
 Virgo deploravit raatutinam lanienam 
 ilulta praeda dabatur ieris. 
 
 11. 
 
 Centies centenos vidi jacere 
 
 In navibus 
 
 Ubi ^Englanes vocatur 
 
 Navigavimus ad pugnam 
 
 Per sex dies antequam exercitus caderc* 
 
 Transegimus mucronum missam 
 
 Id exortu solis 
 
 Coactus est pro nostris gladiis 
 
 Valdiofur in bello occumberc. 
 
 12. 
 
 lluit pluvia sanguinis de gludift 
 Praeceps ia Bardafyrde
 
 9* A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " wound. The earth was dyed red with the 
 " warm stream. The sword rung upon the 
 " coats of mail, and clove the bucklers in twain. 
 " None fled on that day, till among his ships 
 
 Fallidum corpus pro accipitribus 
 
 Murmuravit arcus ubi inucro 
 
 Acriter niordebat Loricas 
 
 In conflictu 
 
 Oclini Pileus Galea 
 
 Cucurrit arcus ad vulmis 
 
 Venenate aci<tus conspersus sudorc sanguine*). 
 
 13. 
 
 Tcnuinius magica scuta 
 
 Alte in pugnas ludo 
 
 Ante Hiadningum sinmn 
 
 Vidcre licuit tiini viros 
 
 Qui gladiis lacerarunt Clypcos 
 
 In gladiatorio nuiriuure 
 
 Galeae attrita; virorum 
 
 Erat sicut splcndidain virginem 
 
 Tn lecto juxta secollocarc. 
 
 14 
 
 Dura venit tcmpestas Clypcis 
 Cadaver cecidit in terrain 
 la Ncrtumbria 
 Erat circa inatutinuiii tempus 
 Hotninibus necessum erat fugere
 
 POEMS OF OSSIAV. 9 
 
 " Heraudus fell. Than him no braver baron 
 " cleaves the sea with ships ; a cheerful heart 
 " did he ever bring to the combat. Then the 
 " host threw away their shields, when the up- 
 
 Ex prajlio ubi acute 
 Cassidis campos mordebaiit gladii 
 Ernt hoc veluti Juvenein viduam 
 In primaria sede osculari. 
 
 Herthiofe evasit fortunatus 
 In Australibus Orcadibus ipsc 
 Victoria? in nostris hominibus 
 Cogcbatur in armorum nimbo 
 Rogvaldus occumbere 
 Iste venit summus super accipitres 
 Luctus in gladiorum ludo 
 Strenue jactabat concussor 
 Galeae sanguinis teli. 
 
 16. 
 
 Quilibet jacebat transverhim supra alium 
 Gaudebat pugna lastus 
 Accipiter ob gladiorum ludum 
 Non 1'ecit aquilam aut aprum 
 Qui Irlandiam gnbernavit 
 Conventus fiebat ferr>& Clvpei 
 Marstanus rex jejunis 
 Fiebat in vedrse sinu 
 Praeda data corvis,
 
 J/0 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " lifted spear flew at the breasts of heroes. The, 
 " sword bit the Scarh'an rocks ; bloody was the 
 " shield in battle, until Rafno the king was slain. 
 " From the heads ot warriors the warm sweat 
 
 17. 
 
 Bellatorem multura vi'di cadere 
 Maute ante machaerara 
 Virum in niucroimin dissidio 
 Filio ineo incidit mature 
 Gladius juxta cor 
 Egillus fecit Agnerum spoliatum 
 Imperterrituni viruni vita 
 Souuit lancea prope Hanidi 
 Griseam loricam spiendebant vexillii. 
 
 18. 
 
 Verbonun tenaces vidi dissecare 
 liaut niinutim pro lupis 
 Kiidili muris ensibus 
 Erat per Hebdomadal spacium 
 ' Quasi mulieres vinuui apportaren^ 
 Rubefactw erant naves 
 Valde in strepitu aniioruiu 
 Scissa erat lorica 
 In Scioldungorum praelio. 
 
 i'u'clirictiinuni vidi crepusculascerc 
 Virsiinis araatorer.i circa matutinnm
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. $7 
 
 " streamed down their armour. '1 he crows a- 
 " round the Indirian islands had an ample prey. 
 " It were difficult to single out one among so 
 " many deaths. At the rising of the sun I be- 
 
 Et confabuiationis amicutn viduarum 
 Erat sicut calidum balneum 
 ^inei vasis nymplia portaret 
 Nos in Use i'reto 
 Aatiqir.'.tii Orn rex caderet 
 Sangolneum Clypeum vidi ruptum 
 Hoc invertit virorum vitam. 
 
 20. 
 
 Egimus gladiorum ad caedcm 
 Ludum in Lindis insula 
 Cum rcgibus tribus 
 Pauci potuerunt inde laetari 
 Cecidit multus in rictuin ferarum 
 Accipiler dilaniavit camera cum lupo 
 Ut satur inde discederet 
 Hybernorum sanguis in oceanum 
 Copiose dccidit per r.iactationis tempus. 
 
 21. 
 
 Alte gladius raordebat Ciypeos 
 Tune cum aurei coloris 
 lliibta fricabat loricas 
 Videre licuit in Onlugs iasula 
 Per sccula multuin post 
 VOL. r. a
 
 )8 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION O 
 
 " held the spears piercing the bodies of foes, and 
 " the bows throwing forth their steel-pointed ar- 
 " rows. Loud roared the swords in the plains 
 " of Lano. The virgin long bewailed the slaugh- 
 
 Ibi fuit ad gladiorum ludos 
 
 Beges processerunt 
 Hubicuiidum ejat circa iusulam 
 Ar Yolans Draco vulnerum. 
 
 Qeid est viro forti morte certius 
 Etsi ipse in armorum nimbo 
 Adversus collocatus sit 
 Saepe deplorat aetatem 
 Qui nunquaru premitur 
 Malum f'erunt timidum incitare 
 Aquilam ad gladiorum luduin 
 Meticulosus venit nuspiam 
 Cordi suo usui. 
 
 23. 
 
 Hoc numero aequum ut pro 
 In contactu gladiorum 
 Juvenis unus contra alterum 
 A T on retrocedat vir a viro. 
 Hoc fuit viri fortis nobililas din 
 Semper debat amoris aiuicus viiginuni 
 Audax cssc in freiiiitu arraorum.
 
 THE POEM'S OF OSSIAV. 9$ 
 
 " ter of that morning." In this strain the poet 
 continues to describe several other military cx- 
 ph'itv I he images are not much varied : The 
 noise ol arms, the streaming ot blood, and the 
 
 24. 
 
 Hoc videtur mihi le vera 
 Q'i'.d laca stqmimir 
 Rarus trarisgreditur fata Parcarum 
 !N'un dcittnavr Kllaj 
 De vitae exitu lueae 
 
 Cum ego sanguiaem teiniinortuus tegerem 
 Et naves in aquas protrusi 
 Passim impetravimus turn leris ' 
 Escam in Scotiae biuubus. 
 
 25. 
 
 Hoc ridere me facit semper 
 Quod iialderi patris scamna 
 Parata scio in aula 
 Bibemus cerevisiam brevi 
 Ex concavis crateribus craniornm 
 ^Non tremit vir tortis c.outra aiori'.-m 
 Jlagnifici in Odiui dumibus 
 Non venio desperabundis 
 Verbis ad Odini aulaiu. 
 
 26. 
 
 Hie vellentnunc onir.cs 
 Filii Aslaoae ladiii
 
 100 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 feasting the birds of prey, often recurring. lie 
 mentions the death of two of his sons in battle ; 
 and the lamentation he describes as made for 
 one of them is very singular. A Grecian or Re- 
 
 Amarum helium cxcitare 
 Si exacte-scircnt 
 Calamitates nostras 
 Quern non pauci anguci 
 Vcncnati me disccrpunt 
 Matrem accepi raeis 
 ITiliis ita ut corda valeant. 
 
 27. 
 
 Valde incliuatur ad liajreditatem 
 Crudele stat nocumentum a viper.: 
 Anguis inhabilat aulam cordis 
 Speraiuus alterius ad Othini 
 Virgam in Ellae sanguine 
 Filiis me is livescet 
 Sua iri rubescet 
 Non acres juveiies 
 SesMonem tranquillam facianl. 
 
 28. 
 
 Habeo quinquagies 
 Praelia sub signis facta 
 Ex belli invitatione & seme! 
 jMinime putavi liominum 
 Quod me futuris esset
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 101 
 
 man poet would have introduced the virgins or 
 nymphs of the wood, bewailing the untimely fall 
 of a young hero. But, says our Gothic poet, 
 " When Rogvaldus was slain, for him mourned 
 " all the hawks of heaven," as lamenting a be- 
 nefactor who had so liberally supplied them with 
 prey ; " for boldly," as he adds, " in the strife 
 " of swords, did the breaker of helmets throw 
 " the spear of blood." 
 
 The poem concludes with sentiments of the 
 highest bravery and contempt of death. " What 
 " is more certain to the brave man than death, 
 " though amidst the storm of swords, he stands 
 
 Juvcnts didici mucronem rubefacere 
 Alius rex prsestantior 
 Nos Asae invitabunt 
 5f(/n est lugenda mors. 
 
 
 29. 
 
 Fert animus finire 
 Invitant me Dysas 
 Quas ex Othini aula 
 Othinus mihi misit 
 Laetus cerevisiam cum Asis 
 In summa sede bibam 
 Vitac elapsae sunt horse, 
 Hidens moriar.
 
 102 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " always ready to oppose it ? lie only regrets 
 
 " this life who hath never known distress. The 
 
 " timorous man allures the devouring eagle to 
 
 " the field of battle. The coward, wherever he 
 
 " comes, is useless to himself. This I esteem ho- 
 
 " nourable, that the youth should advance to 
 
 " the combat fairly matched one against another ; 
 
 " nor man retreat from man. Long was this the 
 
 " warrior's highest glory. He who aspires to 
 
 " the love .of virgins, ought always to be fore- 
 
 " most in the roar of arms. It appears to me 
 
 " of truth, that we arc led by the Fates. Sel- 
 
 " dom can any overcome the appointment of 
 
 " destiny. Little did I foresee that Ella * was 
 
 " to have my life in his hands, in that day when 
 
 " fainting I concealed my blood, and^fuished 
 
 " forth my ships into the waves ; after we had 
 
 " spread a repast for the beasts of prey through- 
 
 " out the Scottish bays. But this makes me al- 
 
 " ways rejoice that in the halls of our father Bal- 
 
 " der (or Odin) I know there are seats prepared, 
 
 " where, in a short time, we shall be drinking ale 
 
 " out of the hollow skulls of our enemies. In 
 
 " the house of the mighty Odin, no brave man 
 
 * This was the name of his enemy who had coudcmn- 
 ed him to death.
 
 1'07-MS OF OSSIAV. 103 
 
 " laments death. I come not with the voice of 
 " despair to Odin's hall. Mow eagerly would 
 " all the sons of Aslauga now rush to war, did 
 " they know the distress of their father, whom a 
 " multitude of venomous serpents tear ! I have 
 " given to my children a mother who hath filled 
 " their hearts with valour. I am fast approach- 
 " ing to my end. A cruel death awaits me from 
 " the viper's bite. A snak,c dwells in the midst 
 " of my heart. I hope that the sword of some 
 " of my sons shall yet be stained with the blood 
 "of Ella. The valiant youths will. wax red 
 " with anger, and will not sit in peace. Fifty 
 " and one times have I reared the standard in 
 " battle. In my youth I learned to dye the 
 " sword in blood : my hope was then, that no 
 " king among men would be more renowned 
 " than me. The goddesses of death will now soon 
 " call me ; I must not mourn my death. Now 
 " I end my song. The goddesses invite me away ; 
 " they whom Odin has sent to me from his hall. 
 " I will sit upon a lofty seat, and drink ale joy- 
 " fully with the goddesses of death. The hours 
 " of my life .are run out. I will smile when I 
 " die." 
 
 This is such poetry as we might expect from a
 
 104 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION* OS 
 
 barbarous nation. It breathes a most ferocious 
 spirit. It is wild, harsh, and irregular ; but at 
 the same time animated and strong ; the stylo, in 
 ihe original, full of inversions, and, as we learn 
 from some of Olaus's notes, highly metaphorical 
 and figured. 
 
 But when we open the works of Ossian, a very 
 different scene presents itself. There we find the 
 fire and the enthusiasm of the most early times, 
 combined with an amazing degree of regularity 
 and art. We find tenderness, and even delicacy 
 of sentiment, greatly predominant over fierceness 
 and barbarity. Our hearts are melted with the 
 softest feelings, and at the same time elevated 
 with the highest ideas of magnanimity, generosi- 
 ty, and true heroism. When we turn from the 
 poetry of Lodbrog to that of Ossian, it is like pas- 
 sing from a savage desart into a fertile and cul- 
 tivated country. How is this to be accounted 
 for ? Or by what means to be reconciled with 
 the remote antiquity attributed to these poems ? 
 This is a curious point ; and requires to be illus- 
 trated. 
 
 That the ancient Scots were of Celtic original 
 is past all doubt. Their conformity with the 
 Celtic nations, in language, manners, and reli-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 105 
 
 gion, proves it to a full demonstration. The 
 Celtai, a great and mighty people, altogether dis- 
 tinct from the Goths and Teutones, once extend- 
 ed their dominion over all the west of Europe; 
 but seem to have had their most full and com- 
 plete establishment in Gaul. Wherever the Cel- 
 tae or Gauls are mentioned by ancient writers, 
 v,-c seldom fail to hear of their Druids and their 
 Bards ; the institution of which two orders, was 
 the capital distinction of their manners and poli- 
 cy. The Druids were their philosophers and 
 priests ; the Bards, their poets and recorders of 
 heroic actions : And both these orders of men 
 seem to have subsisted among them, as chief 
 members of the state, from time immemorial *. 
 We must not therefore imagine the Celtae to have 
 been altogether a gross and rude nation. They 
 possessed from very remote ages a formed system 
 
 * Tgix. $v\a, Tuv TtyUtyUMM 5iaponTo;? E(. Ba^ot 
 TI y.oi.1, aaTEi?, xai ApiSa?. Ba^o* /xev vywrui xa* 
 Troi'/jTa;. Strabo, lib. ir. 
 
 E'KTI KUf a,vr<iic x.a.1 TroirjTfiM [Aihuv, a? Ba^y? 
 Mp,oi(fi<rn f trot JE ^JT Q^yxvuv, TOMS ?^V^K opoutw, S 
 Diodor. Siciil. 1. 5. 
 
 iroiriTwi a t?Toi Tt-'lp^ai'ao-i per 
 Posidonius ap. Athenseum, I. 6.
 
 400 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 of discipline and manners, which appears to havr 
 had a deep and lasting influence. Ammiunus 
 Marccllinus gives them this express testimony, 
 that there flourished among them the study of 
 the most laudable arts ; introduced by the Bards, 
 whose office it was to sing in heroic verse, the 
 gallant actions of illustrious men ; and by the 
 Druids, who lived together in colleges or socie- 
 ties, after the Pythagorean manner, and philoso- 
 phizing upon the highest subjects, asserted the 
 immortality of the human soul *. Though Ju- 
 lius Ca\sar, in his account of Gaul, docs not ex- 
 pressly mention the Bards, yet it is plain that un- 
 der the title of Druids, he comprehend? that 
 whole college or order ; of which the Hards, 
 who it is probable were the disciples of the 
 
 * Per hffic locn (speaking of Gaul) hominibus paula- 
 tim cxcuitis rigucre stadia laudabilium doctrinarum ; in- 
 choata per Bardos & Euhages & Druidas. El B;mli 
 quideru fortia virorum illustrinm facta hcroicis composite 
 versibus cum dulcibus lyne inodiilis cantitarunt. Euha- 
 gcs vero scrulantes serium & sublimia nature pandcre 
 conabaulur. Inter lios, Druidic ingcniis celsiores, ut 
 auctoritas 1'ytliagoraj decrevit, sodalitiis adstricti consor- 
 tiis, quffistionibtis altarum occultarunique rerum erecti 
 sunt ; & despectantes humana pronuntiarunt auiiuas im- 
 iorta!es. Amm. Marcellinus, lib. 15. cap. 9.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 107 
 
 Druids, undoubtedly made a part. It deserves 
 remark, that, according to his account, the Drui- 
 dical institution first took rise in Britain, and 
 passed from thence into Gaul ; so that they who 
 aspired to be thorough masters of that learning 
 were wont to resort to Britain. He adds too, 
 that such as were to be initiated among the 
 Druids, were obliged to commit to their memory 
 a great number of verses, insomuch that some 
 employed twenty years in this course of educa- 
 tion ; and that they did not think it lawful to re- 
 cord these poems in writing, but sacredly handed 
 them down by tradition from race to race *. 
 
 So strong was the attachment of the Celtic 
 nations to their poetry and their bards, that a- 
 midst all the changes of their government and 
 manners, even long after the order of the Druids 
 was extinct, and the national religion altered, 
 the bards continued to flourish ; not as a set of 
 strolling songsters, like the Greek Ao& or Rhap- 
 sodists, in Homer's time, but as an order of men 
 highly respected in the state, and supported by a 
 public establishment. We find them, according 
 to the testimonies of Strabo and Diodorus, be- 
 
 * Vid. Caesar de bello Gall. lib. 6.
 
 308 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 fore the age of Augustus Caesar ; and we find 
 them remaining under the same name, and exer- 
 cising the same functions as of old, in Ireland, and 
 in the north of Scotland, almost down to our 
 own times. It is well known that in both these 
 countries, every Regulus or chief had his own 
 bard, who was considered as an officer of rank in 
 his court; and had lands assigneil him, which 
 descended to his family. Of the honour in 
 which the bards were held, many instances oc- 
 cur in Ossian's poems. On all important occa- 
 sions, they were the ambassadors between con- 
 tending chiefs; and their persons were held sa- 
 cred. " Cairbar feared to stretch his sword to 
 " the bards, though his soul was dark." " Loose 
 " the bards," said his brother Cathmor, " they 
 " are the sons of other times. Their voice shall 
 " be heard in other ages, when the kings of To- 
 " mora have failed." 
 
 From all this, the Celtic tribes clearly appear 
 to have been addicted in so high a degree to 
 poetry, and to have made it so much their study 
 from the earliest times, as may remove our won- 
 der at meeting with a vein of higher poetical re- 
 finement among them, than was at first sight to 
 hnvc been expected among nations whom we are
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 10 
 
 accustomed to call barbarous. Barbarity, I 
 must observe, is a very equivocal term ; it ad- 
 mits of many different forms and degrees ; and 
 though in all of them it excludes polished man- 
 ners, it is, however, not inconsistent with gene- 
 rous sentiments and tender affections *. What 
 degrees of friendship, love, and heroism, may 
 possibly be found to prevail in a rude state of so- 
 
 * Surety among the wild Laplanders, if any where, 
 barbarity is in its most perfect state. Yet their love 
 songs, which Sclicffer has given us in his Lapponia, are a 
 proof that natural tenderness of sentiment may be found 
 in a country into which the least glimmering of science 
 has never penetrated. To most English readers these 
 songs are well known by the elegant translations of 
 them iu the Spectator, No. 566 and 400. I shall sub- 
 join Scheffer's Latin version of one of them, which has 
 ihe appearance of being strictly literal : 
 
 Sol, clarissimum einitte lumen in paludem Orra. Si 
 enisus in summa picearura c.icurmna scirern me visurum 
 Orra paludem, in ea eniterer, ut viderem inter quos arni- 
 ca, mea esset flores ; omnes suscinderem frutices ibi ena- 
 tos, omnes ramos prsesecarem, hos virentes rainos. Cur- 
 sum nubium essem secutus, quse iter suum instituunt ver- 
 sus paludem Orra, si ad te volare possein alis, cornicum 
 alis. Sed mihi desunt alae, alee querquedulae, pedesque, 
 auserum pedes plantajve bona; quae deferrc me valeant 
 ad te. Satis expectasti diu ; per lot dies, tot dies tuos
 
 110 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 ciety, no one can say. Astonishing instances of 
 them, \\e know, from history, have sometimes 
 appeared : and a few characters distinguished by 
 those high qualities, might lay a foundation for 
 a set of manners being introduced into the songs 
 of the bards, more refined, it is probable, and ex- 
 alted, according to the usual poetical license, 
 than the real manners of the country. In par- 
 ticular, with respect to heroism ; the great em- 
 ployment of the Celtic bards, was to delineate 
 the characters, and sing the praises of heroes. 
 So Lucan : 
 
 A us quoque qui fortes animus, belloque peremtos, 
 
 Ltu'.d'ibus in longum vates dilfiiaditis aevum 
 
 Pluriiua securi fudistis carmuia bardi. PIIARS. 1. 1. 
 
 Now, when we consider a college or order of 
 
 optimos, oculis tuis jucimdissiinis, corde tuo amicissimo. 
 Quod si longisiime vclles etf'ugere, cilo tamen te conse- 
 querer. Quid iirinius validiusve esse potest quam con- 
 torti ncrvi, catenate- fcrrcas, qua? durissime ligant ? Sic 
 amor cunlorquet caj)iU nostrum, mutat cogitaliones & 
 sontculias. Peuronun voluntas, voluntas venti;juvc- 
 IHIIU cogitationes, longa; cugitationcs. Quos si audircin 
 onines, a via, a via justa dcclinavoni. Unmn cst cousi- 
 liuni quod capiam ; ita scio viam rectiorcm me repcrtu- 
 rum. Scheffori Lappon'm, cap. '.'/>.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. Ill 
 
 men, who, cultivating poetry throughout a long 
 series of ages, had their imaginations' continually 
 employed on the ideas of heroism ; who had all 
 the poems and panegyrics, which were composed 
 by their predecessors, handed down to them with 
 care ; who rivalled and endeavoured to outstrip 
 those who had gone before them, each in the ce- 
 lebration of his particular hero ; is it not natural 
 to think that at length the character of a hero 
 would appear in their songs with the highest lus- 
 tre, and be adorned with qualities truly noble ? 
 Some of the qualities, indeed, which distinguish a 
 Fingal, moderation, humanity, and clemency, 
 would not probably be the first ideas of heroism 
 occurring to a barbarous people : but no soon- 
 er had such ideas begun to dawn on the minds of 
 poets, than, as the human mind easily opens to 
 the native representations of human perfection, 
 they would be seized and embraced ; they would 
 enter into their panegyrics ; they would aftbrd 
 materials for succeeding bards to work upon and 
 improve; they would contribute not a little to 
 exalt the public manners. For such songs as 
 these, familiar to the Celtic warriors from their 
 childhood, and throughout their whole life, both
 
 112 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 in war and in peace, their principal entertain- 
 ment, must have had a very considerable influ- 
 ence in propagating among them real manners 
 nearly approaching to the poetical ; and in form- 
 ing even such a hero as Fingal. Especially when 
 we consider that among their limited objects of 
 ambition, among the few advantages which in a 
 savage state man could obtain over man, the 
 chief was fame, and that immortality which they 
 expected to receive from their virtues and ex- 
 ploits, in the songs of bards *. 
 
 Having made these remarks on the Celtic poe- 
 try and bards in general, I shall next consider 
 the particular advantages which Ossian possess- 
 ed. He appears clearly to have lived in a pe- 
 riod which enjoyed all the benefit I just now 
 mentioned of traditionary poetry. The exploit's 
 of Trathal, Trcnmor, and the other ancestors of 
 Fingal, are spoken of as familiarly known. An- 
 cient bards are frequently alluded to. In one 
 
 * AY hen Edward I. conquered Wales, lie put to death 
 all tlie Welch bards. This cruel policy plainly shews 
 how treat au influence he imagined the songs of these 
 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 same Celtic race with the Scottish and Irish.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 113 
 
 remarkable passage, Ossian describes himself as 
 living in a sort of classical age, enlightened by the 
 memorials of former times, which were conveyed 
 in the songs of bards ; and points at a period of 
 darkness and ignorance which lay beyond the 
 reach of tradition. " His words," says he, " came 
 " only by halves to our ears ; they were dark as 
 " the tales of other times, before the light of the 
 " song arose." Ossian himself appears to have 
 been endowed by nature with an exquisite sensi- 
 bility of heart; prone to that tender melancho- 
 ly which is so often an attendant on great ge- 
 nius ; and susceptible equally of strong and of 
 soft emotions. He was not only a professed 
 bard, educated with care, as we may easily be- 
 lieve, to all the poetical art then known, and 
 connected, as he shews us himself, in intimate 
 friendship with the other contemporary bards, 
 but a warrior also ; and the son of the most re- 
 nowned hero and prince of his age. This form- 
 ed a conjunction of circumstances, uncommonly 
 favourable towards exalting the imagination of a 
 poet. He relates expeditions in which he had 
 been engaged ; he sings of battles in which he had 
 fought and overcome ; he had beheld the most 
 illustrious scenes which that age could exhibit, 
 
 VOL. I. IJ
 
 114- A CRITICAL DISSERTATION Otf 
 
 both of heroism in war, and magnificence is 
 peace. For however rude the magnificence of 
 those times may seem to us, we must remember 
 that all ideas of magnificence are comparative ; 
 and that the age of Fingal was an sera of distin- 
 guished splendour in that part of the world. 
 Fingal reigned over a considerable territory ; he 
 was enriched with the spoils of the Roman pro- 
 vince ; he was ennobled by his victories and 
 great actions ; and was in all respects a per- 
 sonage of much higher dignity than any of the 
 chieftains, or heads of clans, who lived in the 
 same country, after a more extensive monarchy 
 was established. 
 
 The manners of Ossian's age, so far as we can 
 gather them from his writings, were abundantly 
 favourable to a poetical genius. The two dis- 
 piriting vices, to which Longinus imputes the de- 
 cline of poetry, covetousness and effeminacy, wore 
 as yet unknown. The cares of men were few. 
 They lived a roving indolent life ; hunting and 
 war, thejr principal employments ; and their 
 chief amusements, the music of bards and " the 
 feast of shells.^ The great object pursued by 
 heroic spirits, was, " to receive their fame," that- 
 ,is, to become worthy of being celebrated in the
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 11.5 
 
 songs of bards ; and " to have their name on the 
 " four grey stones/' To die, unlamented by a 
 bard, was deemed so great a misfortune, as even 
 to disturb their ghosts in another state. " They 
 " wander in thick mists beside the reedy lake : 
 " but never shall they rise, without the song, to 
 " the dwelling of winds." After death they ex- 
 pected to follow employments of the same nature 
 with those which had amused them on earth ; to 
 fly with their friends on clouds, to pursue airy 
 deer, and to listen to their praise in the mouths 
 of bards. In such times as these, in a country 
 where poetry had been so long cultivated, and 
 so highly honoured, is it any wonder that among 
 the race and succession of bards, one Homer 
 should arise ; a man who, endowed with a natu- 
 ral happy genius, favoured by peculiar advanta- 
 ges of birth and condition, and meeting, in the 
 course of his life, with a variety of incidents pro- 
 per to fire his imagination, and to touch his 
 heart, should attain a degree of eminence in poe- 
 try, worthy to draw the admiration of more re- 
 fined ages ? 
 
 The compositions of Ossian are so strongly 
 marked with characters of antiquity, that al- 
 though there were no external proof to support
 
 Il6 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 that antiquity, hardly any reader of judgment 
 and taste, could hesitate in referring them to a 
 very remote asra. There are four great stages 
 through which men successively pass in the pro- 
 gress of society. The first and earliest is the life 
 of hunters ; pasturage succeeds to this, as the 
 ideas of property begin to take root; next agri- 
 culture ; and lastly, commerce. Throughout 
 Ossian's poems, we plainly find ourselves in the 
 first of these periods of society; during which, 
 hunting was the chief employment of men, and 
 the principal method of their procuring subsis- 
 tence. Pasturage was not indeed wholly un- 
 known ; for we hear of dividing the herd in the 
 case of a divorce; but the allusions 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 work- 
 ing in iron *. Every thing presents to us the most 
 
 * Their skill in navigation need not at all surprise us. 
 Living in the western islands, along the coast, or in a 
 country which is every where intersected with arms of 
 the sea, one 01 the first objects of their attention, from the 
 earliest time, must have been how to traverse the waters. 
 Hence that knowledge of the stars, so necessary for
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 11? 
 
 simple and unimproved manners. At their feasts, 
 the heroes prepared their own repast ; they sat 
 round the light of the burning oak ; the wind 
 lifted their locks, and whistled through their open 
 halls. Whatever was beyond the necessaries of 
 life was known to them only as the spoil of the 
 Roman province ; " the gold of the stranger ; 
 " the lights of the stranger; the steeds of the 
 " stranger, the children of the rein." 
 
 This representation of Ossian's times, must 
 strike us the more, as genuine and authentic, 
 
 guiding them by night, of which we find several traces 
 in Ossian's works j particularly in the beautiful descrip- 
 tion of Cathmor's shield, in the 7th -book of Temo.'a. 
 Among all the northern maritime nations, navigation was 
 very early studied. Piratical incursions were the chief 
 means they employed for acquiring booty ; and were a- 
 mong the first exploits which distinguished them in the 
 world. Even the savage Americans were, at their first 
 discovery, found to possess the most surprising skill and 
 dexterity in navigating their immense lakes and rivers. 
 
 The description of Cuthullin's chariot, in the first book 
 of Fingal, has been objected to by some, as representing 
 greater magnificence than is consistent with the supposed 
 poverty of that age. But this chariot is plainly only a 
 horse litter ; and the gems mentioned in the description, 
 are no other than the shiniug stones or pebbles, known to 
 be frequently found along the western coast of Scotland.
 
 IIS A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 when it is compared with a poem of later date, 
 which Mr Macphcrson has preserved in one of 
 his notes. It is that wherein five bards are re- 
 presented as passing the evening in the house of a 
 chief, and each of them separately giving his de- 
 scription of the night. The night scenery is 
 beautiful ; and the author has plainly imitated 
 the manner and style of Ossian : But he has al- 
 lowed some images to appear which betray a la- 
 ter period of society. For we meet with win- 
 dows clapping, the herds of goats and cows seek- 
 ing shelter, the shepherd wandering, corn on the 
 plain, and the wakeful hind rebuilding the shocks 
 of corn which had been overturned by the tem- 
 pest. Whereas in Ossian's works, from begin- 
 ning to end, all is consistent ; no modern allusion 
 drops from him ; but every where the same face 
 of rude nature appears ; a country wholly uncul- 
 tivated, thinly inhabited, and recently peopled. 
 The grass of the rock, the flower of the heath, 
 the thistle with its beard, are the chief ornaments 
 of his landscapes. " The desert," says Fingal, 
 " is enough for me, with all its woods and deer." 
 The circle of ideas and transactions is no wi- 
 der than suits such an age : nor any greater 
 diversity introduced into characters, than the
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 119 
 
 events of that period would naturally display. 
 Valour and bodily strength are the admired qua- 
 lities. Contentions arise, as is usual among sa- 
 vage nations, from the slightest causes. To be 
 affronted at a tournament, or to be omitted in 
 the invitation to a feast, kindles a war. Wo- 
 men are often carried away by force ; and the 
 whole tribe, as in the Homeric times, rise to a- 
 venge the wrong. The heroes show refinement 
 of sentiment indeed on several occasions, but 
 none of manners. They^ speak of their past ac- 
 tions with freedom, boast of their exploits, and 
 sing their own praise. In their battles, it is evi- 
 dent that drums, trumpets, or bagpipes, were 
 not known or used. They had no expedient for 
 giving the military alarms but striking a shield, 
 or raising a loud cry : And hence the loud and 
 terrible voice of Fingal is often mentioned, as a 
 necessary qualification of a great general ; like 
 the f3ai> ay9o$ MEXO? of Homer. Of military 
 discipline or skill, they appear to have been en- 
 tirely destitute. Their armies seem not to have 
 been numerous ; their battles were disorderly ; 
 and terminated, for the most part, by a personal 
 combat, or wrestling of the two chiefs ; afte?
 
 120 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 which, " the bard sung the song of peace, and 
 " the battle ceased along the field." 
 
 The manner of composition bears all the marks 
 of the greatest antiquity. No artful transitions ; 
 nor full and extended connection of parts ; such 
 as we find among the poets of later times, when 
 order and regularity of composition were more 
 studied and known ; but a style always rapid 
 and vehement ; in narration concise even to ab- 
 ruptness, and leaving several circumstances to be- 
 supplicd by the reader's imagination. The lan- 
 guage has all that figurative cast, which, as I be- 
 fore shewed, partly a glowing and undisciplined 
 imagination, partly the sterility of language and 
 the want of proper terms, have always introdu- 
 ced into the early speech of nations; and in se- 
 veral respects, it carries a remarkable resem- 
 blance to the style of the Old Testament. It de- 
 serves particular notice, as one of the most ge- 
 nuine and decisive characters of antiquity, that 
 very few general terms, or abstract ideas, are to 
 be met with in the whole collection of Ossian's 
 works. The ideas of men, at first, were all par- 
 ticular. They had not words to express general 
 conceptions. These were the consequence of 
 more profound reflection, and longer acquain-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 121 
 
 tance with the arts of thought and of speech. 
 Ossian, accordingly, almost never expresses him- 
 self in the abstract. His ideas extended little 
 farther than to the objects he saw around him. 
 A public, a community, the universe, were con- 
 ceptions beyond his sphere. Even a mountain, 
 a sea, or a lake, which he has occasion to men- 
 tion, though only in a simile, are for the most 
 part particularized ; it is the hill of Cromla, the 
 storm of the sea of Malmor, or the reeds of the 
 lake of Lego. A mode of expression, which, 
 whilst it is characteristi cal of ancient ages, is at 
 the same time highly favourable to descriptive 
 poetry. For the same reasons, personification 
 is a poetical figure not very common with Ossian. 
 Inanimate objects, such as winds, trees, and 
 flowers, he sometimes personifies with great beau- 
 ty. But the personifications which are so fami- 
 liar to later poets, of Fame, Time, Terror, Vir- 
 tue, and the rest of that class, were unknown to 
 our Celtic bard. These were modes of concep- 
 tion too abstract for his age. 
 
 All these are marks so undoubted, and some 
 of them too so nice and delicate, of the most 
 early times, as put tho high antiquity of these 
 poems out of question. Especially when we con-
 
 122 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 sider, that if there had been any imposture in 
 this case, it must have been contrived and exe- 
 cuted in the Highlands of Scotland, two or three 
 centuries ago ; as up to this period, both by ma- 
 nuscripts, and by the testimony of a multitude 
 of living witnesses, concerning the uncontrovcr- 
 tible tradition of these poems, they can clearly be 
 traced. Now this is a peiiod when that country 
 enjoyed no advantages for a composition of this 
 kind, which it may not be supposed to have en- 
 joyed in as great, if not in a greater degree, a 
 thousand years before. To suppose that two or 
 three hundred years ago, when we well know the 
 Highlands to have been in a state of gross igno- 
 rance and barbarity, there should have arisen 
 in that country a poet, of such exquisite genius, 
 and of such deep knowledge of mankind, and of 
 history, as to divest himself of the ideas and man- 
 ners of his own age, and to give us a just and na- 
 tural picture of a state of society ancienter by a 
 thousand years ; one who could support this 
 counterfeited antiquity through such a large col- 
 lection of poen.s, without the least inconsistency ; 
 and who, possessed of all this genius and art, had 
 at the same time the self-denial of concealing 
 himself, and of ascribing his own works to an
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 123 
 
 antiquated bard, without the imposture being de- 
 tected ; is a supposition that transcends all 
 bounds of credibility. 
 
 There are, besides, two other circumstances to 
 be attended to, still of greater weight, if possible, 
 against this hypothesis. One is, the total ab- 
 sence of religious ideas from this work ; for which 
 the translator has, in his preface, given a very 
 probable account, on the footing of its being the 
 work of Ossian. The druidical superstition was, 
 in the days of Ossian, on the point of its final ex- 
 tinction; and for particular reasons, odious to 
 the family of Fingal ; whilst the Christian faith 
 was not yet established. But had it been the 
 work of one, to whom the ideas of Christianity 
 were familiar from his infancy ; and who had 
 superadded to them also the bigoted superstition 
 of a dark age and country ; it is impossible but 
 in some passage or other, the traces of them 
 Avould have appeared. The other circumstance 
 is, the entire silence which reigns with respect to 
 all the great clans or families, which are now 
 established in the Highlands. The origin of these 
 several clans is known tu be very ancient : And 
 it is as well known, that there is no passion by 
 which a native Highlander is more distinguished.
 
 12-i A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 than by attachment to his clan, and jealousy for 
 its honour. That a Highland bard, in forging a 
 work relating to the antiquities of his country, 
 should have inserted no circumstance which 
 pointed out the rise of his own clan, which ascer- 
 tained its antiquity, or increased its glory, is, of 
 all suppositions that can be formed, the most im- 
 probable ; and the silence on this head, amounts 
 to a demonstration that the author lived before 
 any of the present great clans were formed or 
 known. 
 
 Assuming it then, as we well may, for certain, 
 that the poems now under consideration are ge- 
 nuine venerable monuments of very remote anti- 
 quity ; I proceed to make some remarks upon 
 their general spirit and strain. The two charac- 
 teristics of Ossian's poetry. are, tenderness and 
 sublimity. It breathes nothing of the gay and 
 chearful kind ; an ear of solemnity and serious- 
 ness is diffused over the whole. Ossian is per- 
 haps the only poet who never relaxes, or lets 
 himself down into the light and amusing strain ; 
 which I readily admit to be no small disadvan- 
 tage to him, with the bulk of readers. He moves 
 perpetually in the high region of the grand and 
 ihe pathetic. One key note is struck at the be-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 1-25 
 
 ginning, and supported to the end ; nor is any or- 
 nament introduced, but what is perfectly concor- 
 dant with the general tone or melody. The 
 events recorded are all serious and grave ; the 
 scenery throughout, wild and romantic. The 
 extended heath by the sea shore ; the mountain 
 shaded with mist ; the torrent rushing through 
 a solitary valley ; the scattered oaks, and the 
 tombs of warriors over-grown with moss ; all pro- 
 duce a solemn attention in the mind, and pre- 
 pare it for great and extraordinary events. We 
 find not in Ossian, an imagination that sports 
 itself, and dresses out gay trifles to please the fan- 
 cy. His poetry, more perhaps than that of any 
 other writer, deserves to be styled, The Poetry of 
 ilic Heart. It is a heart penetrated with noble 
 sentiments, and with sublime and tender pas- 
 sions ; a heart that glows, and kindles the fancy ; 
 a heart that is full, and pours itself forth. Os- 
 sian did not write, like modern poets, to please 
 readers and critics. He sung from the love of 
 poetry and song. His delight was to think of the 
 heroes among whom he had flourished ; to recal 
 the affecting incidents of his life ; to dwell upon 
 his past wars, and loves, and friendships ; till, as 
 he expresses it himself, " there comes a voice to
 
 126 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " Ossian and awakes his soul. It is the voice of 
 " years that arc gone ; they roll before me with 
 *' all their deeds ;" and under this true poetic 
 inspiration, giving vent to his genius, no wonder 
 \\c should so often hear and acknowledge in his 
 strains, the powerful and ever-pleasing voice of 
 nature. 
 
 Arte, natura potentior omni 
 
 Est Deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo. 
 
 It is necessary here to observe, that the beau- 
 ties of Ossian's writings cannot be felt by those 
 who have given them only a single or a hasty pe- 
 lusal. His manner is so different from that of 
 the poets, to whom we are most accustomed ; 
 his style is so concise, and so much crowded 
 Avith imagery ; the mind is kept at such a stretch 
 in accompanying the author ; that an ordinary 
 reader is at first apt to be dazzled and fatigued, 
 rather than pleased. His poems require to be 
 taken up at intervals, and to be frequently re- 
 viewed ; and then it is impossible but his beau- 
 ties must open to every reader who is capable of 
 sensibility. Those who have the highest degree 
 of it, will relish them the most, 
 
 As Homer is, of all the great poets, the one
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 127 
 
 Avhosc manner, and whose times come the near- 
 est to Ossian's, we are naturally led to run a pa- 
 rallel in some instances between the Greek and 
 the Celtic bard. For, though Homer lived more 
 than a thousand years before Ossian, it is not 
 from the age of the world, but from the state of 
 society, that we are to judge of resembling times. 
 The Greek has, in several points, a manifest su- 
 periority. He introduces a greater variety of in- 
 cidents ; he possesses a larger compass of ideas ; 
 has more diversity in his characters ; and a much 
 deeper knowledge of human nature. It was not 
 to be expected, that in any of these particulars, 
 Ossian could equal Homer. For Homer lived in 
 a country where society was much farther ad- 
 vanced ; he had beheld many more objects ; ci- 
 ties built and flourishing ; laws instituted ; or- 
 der, discipline, and arts begun. His field of ob- 
 servation was much larger and more splendid ; 
 his knowledge, of course, more extensive ; his 
 mind also, it shall be granted, more penetrating. 
 But if Ossian's ideas and objects be less diversi- 
 fied than those of Homer, they are all, however, 
 of the kind fittest for poetry : The bravery and 
 generosity of heroes, the tenderness of lovers, the 
 attachments of friends, parents, and children.
 
 128 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 In a rude age and country, though the events 
 that happen be few, the undissipated mind broods 
 over them more ; they strike the imagination, 
 and fire the passions in a higher degree ; and of 
 consequence become happier materials to a poe- 
 tical genius, than the same events when scattered 
 through the wide circle of more varied action, 
 and cultivated life. 
 
 Homer is a more cheerful and sprightly poet 
 than Ossian. You discern in him all the Greek 
 vivacity ; whereas Ossian uniformly maintains 
 the gravity and solemnity of a Celtic hero. This. 
 too is in a great measure to be accounted for 
 from the different situations in which they lived, 
 partly personal, and partly national. Ossian 
 had survived all his friends, and was disposed to 
 melancholy by the incidents of his life. But be- 
 sides this, cheerfulness is one of the many bles- 
 sings which we owe to formed society. The so- 
 litary wild state is always a serious one. Bating 
 the sudden and violent bursts of mirth, which 
 sometimes break forth at their dances and feasts ; 
 the savage American tribes have been noted by 
 all travellers for their gravity and taciturnity. 
 Somewhat of this taciturnity may be also remark- 
 ed in Ossian. On all occasions he is frugal of
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIASf. l'2() 
 
 his words ; and never gives you more of an imago 
 or a description, than is just sufficient to place 
 it before you in one clear point of view. It is a 
 blaze of lightning, which flashes and vanishes. 
 Homer is more extended in his descriptions ; and 
 fills them up with a greater variety of circum- 
 stances. Both the poets are dramatic ; that is, 
 they introduce their personages frequently speak- 
 ing before us. But Ossian is concise and rapid 
 in his speeches, as he is in every other thing. 
 Homer, with the Greek vivacity, had also some 
 portion of the Greek loquacity. His speeches 
 indeed are highly characteristical ; and to them 
 we are much indebted for that admirable display 
 he has given of human nature. Yet if he be te- 
 dious any where, it is in these; some of them 
 trifling ; and some of them plainly unseasonable. 
 Both poets are eminently sublime ; but a diffe- 
 rence may be remarked in the species of their 
 sublimity. Homer's sublimity is accompanied 
 with more impetuosity and fire; Ossian's with 
 more of a solemn and awful grandeur. Homer 
 hurries you along; Ossian elevates, and fixes 
 you in astonishment. Homer is most sublime in 
 actions and battles ; Ossian, in description and 
 sentiment. In the pathetic, Homer, when he 
 
 TOI,. I. I
 
 i30 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 chuses to exert it, lias great power ; but Ossian 
 exerts that power much oftener, and has the 
 character of tenderness far more deeply imprint- 
 ed on his works. No poet kne\> better how to 
 seize and melt the heart. With regard to digni- 
 ty of sentiment, the pre-eminence must clearly 
 be given to Ossian. This is indeed a surprising 
 circumstance, that in point of humanity, magna- 
 nimity, virtuous feelings of every kind, our rude 
 Celtic bard should be distinguished to such a 
 degree, that not only the heroes of Homer, but 
 even those of the polite and refined Virgil, are 
 left far behind by those of Ossian. 
 
 After these general observations on the genius 
 and spirit of our author. I now proceed to a near- 
 er view, and more accurate examination of his 
 works : and as Fingal is the first great poem in 
 this collection, it is proper to begin with it. To 
 refuse the title of an epic poem to Fingal, be- 
 cause it is not, in every little particular, exactly 
 conformable to the practice of Homer and Vir- 
 gil, were the mere squeamishness and pedantry 
 of criticism. Examined even according to Aris- 
 totle's rules, it will be found to have all the es- 
 sential requisites of a true and regular epic ; and 
 to have several of them in so high a degree, as at
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 131 
 
 first view to raise our astonishment on finding 
 Ossian's composition so agreeable to rules of 
 which he was entirely ignorant. But our asto- 
 nishment will cease, when we consider from what 
 source Aristotle drew those rules. Homer knew 
 no more of the laws of criticism than Ossian ; 
 but guided by nature, he composed in verse a re- 
 gular story, founded on heroic actions, which all 
 posterity admired. Aristotle, with great sagaci- 
 ty and penetration, traced the causes of this ge- 
 neral admiration. He observed what it was in 
 Homer's composition, and in the conduct of his 
 story, which gave it such power to please ; from 
 this observation he deduced the rules which 
 poets ought to follow, who would write and 
 please like Homer ; and to a composition form- 
 ed according to such rules, he gave the name of 
 an epic poem. Hence his whole system arose. 
 Aristotle studied nature in Homer. Homer and 
 Ossian both wrote from nature. No wonder 
 that among all the three there should be such 
 agreement and conformity. 
 
 The fundamental rules delivered by Aristotle 
 concerning an epic poem, are theses That the 
 actidn which is the ground-work of the poem, 
 should be one, complete, and great ; that it
 
 132 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 should be feigned, not merely historical ; that 
 it should be enlivened with characters and man- 
 ners, and heightened by the marvellous. 
 
 But before entering on any of these, it may 
 perhaps be asked, what is the moral of Fingal ? 
 For, according to M. Bossu, an epic poem is no 
 other than an allegory, contrived to illustrate 
 some moral truth. The poet, says this critic, 
 must begin with fixing on some maxim, or in- 
 struction, which he intends to inculcate on man- 
 kind. He next forms a fable, like one of jEsop's, 
 wholly with a view to the moral ; and having 
 thus settled and arranged his plan, he then looks 
 into traditionary history for names and incidents, 
 to give his fable some air of probability. Never 
 did a more frigid, pedantic notion, enter into the 
 mind of a critic. We may safely pronounce, 
 that he who should compose an epic poem after 
 this manner, who should first lay down a moral 
 and contrive a plan, before he had thought of his 
 personages and actors, might deliver indeed very 
 sound instruction, but would liiul few readers. 
 There cannot be the least doubt that the first ob- 
 ject which strikes an epic poet, which fires his 
 genius, and gives him any idea of his work, is the 
 action or subject he is to celebrate. Hardly is
 
 THE FOEMS OF OSSIAJT. 133 
 
 there an}' tale, any subject a poet can chuse for 
 such a work, but will afford some general moral 
 instruction. An epic poem is by its nature one 
 of the most moral of all poetical compositions. 
 But its moral tendency is by no means to be li- 
 mited to some common-place maxim, which may 
 be gathered from the story. It arises from the 
 admiration of heroic actions, which such a com- 
 position is peculiarly calculated to produce ; 
 from the virtuous emotions which the characters 
 and incidents raise, whilst we read it ; from the 
 happy impression which all the parts separately, 
 as well as the whole taken together, leave upon 
 the mind. However, if a general moral be still 
 insisted on, Fingal obviously furnishes one, not 
 inferior to that of any other poet, viz. That Wis- 
 dom and Bravery always triumph over brutal 
 force : or another nobler still ; That the most 
 complete victory over an enemy is obtained by 
 that moderation and generosity which convert 
 him into a friend. 
 
 The unity of the Epic action, which, of all 
 Aristotle's rules, is the chief and most material, 
 is so strictly preserved in Fingal, that it must be 
 perceived by every reader. It is a more com- 
 plete unity than what arises from relating the ac-
 
 134 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON" 
 
 tions of one man, which the Greek critic justljr 
 censures as imperfect ; it is the unity of one en- 
 terprise, the deliverance of Ireland from the in- 
 vasion of Swaran : An enterprise which has 
 surely the full heroic dignity. All the incidents 
 recorded bear a constant reference to one end ; 
 no double plot is carried on ; but the parts unite 
 into a regular whole: and as the action is one 
 and great, so it is an entire and complete action. 
 For we find, as the critic farther requires, a be- 
 ginning, a middle, and an end ; a Nodus, or in- 
 trigue in the poem ; difficulties occurring through 
 Cuthullin's rashness and bad success : those dif- 
 ficulties gradually surmounted ; and at last the 
 work conducted to that happy conclusion which 
 is held essential to epic poetry. Unity is indeed 
 observed with greater exactness in Fingal, than 
 in almost any other epic composition. For not 
 only is unity of subject maintained, but that of 
 time and place also. The autumn is clearly 
 pointed out as the season of the action; and 
 from beginning to end the scene is never shifted 
 from the heath of Lena, along the sea shore. 
 The duration of the action in Fingal, is much 
 shorter than in the Iliad or JEneid, but sure, 
 there may be shorter as well as longer heroic
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 135 
 
 poems ; and if the authority of Aristotle be al- 
 so required for this, he says expressly that the 
 epic composition is indefinite as to the time of 
 its duration. Accordingly, the action of the. 
 Iliad lasts only forty-seven days, whilst that of 
 the .-Eneid is continued for more than a year. 
 
 Throughout the whole of Fin gal, there reigns 
 that grandeur of sentiment, style, and imagery, 
 which ought ever to distinguish this high species 
 of poetry. The story is conducted with no small 
 art. The poet goes not back to a tedious reci- 
 tal of the beginning of the war with S \varan ; 
 but hastening to the main action, he falls in ex- 
 actly, by a roost happy coincidence of thought, 
 with the rule of Horace. 
 
 Semper ad eventum festinaf, k m medias res, 
 
 Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit 
 
 Nee gcmiuo bellum Trojanum auditur ab ovo. 
 
 DE ARTE POET. 
 
 He invokes no muse, for he acknowledged 
 none ; but his occasional addresses to Malvina 
 have a finer effect than the invocation of any 
 muse. He sets out with no formal proposition 
 of his subject; but the subject naturally and 
 easily unfolds itself; the poem opening in an 
 animated manner with the situation of Cuthullin,
 
 136 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 and the arrival of a scout who informs him of 
 Svvaran's landing. Mention is presently made 
 of Fingal, and of the expecled assistance from 
 the ships of the lonely isle, in order to give fur- 
 ther light to the subject. For the poet often 
 shows his address in gradually preparing us for 
 the events he is to introduce ; and in particular 
 the preparation for the appearance of Fingal, 
 the previous expectations that are raised, and 
 the extreme magnificence fully answering these 
 expectations, with which the hero is at length 
 presented to us, are all worked up with such 
 skilful conduct as would do honour to any poet 
 of the most refined times. Homer's art in mag- 
 nifying the character of Achilles has been uni- 
 versally admired. Ossian certainly shews no less 
 art in aggrandizing Fingal. Nothing could be 
 more happily imagined for this purpose than the 
 whole management of the last battle, wherein 
 Gaul, the son of Morni, had besought Fingal to 
 retire, and to leave to him and his other chiefs 
 the honour of the day. The generosity of the 
 king in agreeing to this proposal ; the majesty 
 with which he retreats to the hill, from whence 
 he was to behold the engagement, attended by 
 his bards, and waving the lightning of his sword ',
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 137 
 
 bis perceiving the chiefs overpowered by num- 
 bers, but from unwillingness to deprive them of 
 the glory of the victory by coming in person to 
 their assistance, first sending Ullin, the bard, to 
 animate their courage ; and, at last, when the 
 danger becomes more pressing, his rising in his 
 might, and interposing, like a divinity, to decide 
 the doubtful fate of the day ; are all circum- 
 stances contrived with so much art as plainly 
 discover the Celtic bards to have been not un- 
 practised in heroic poetry. 
 
 The story which is the foundation of the Iliad 
 is in itself as simple as that of Fingal. A quarrel 
 arises between Achilles and Agamemnon concern- 
 ing a female slave ; on which Achilles, appre- 
 hending himself to be injured, withdraws his as- 
 sistance from the rest of the Greeks. The Greeks 
 fall into great distress, and beseech him to be re- 
 conciled to them. He refuses to fight for them 
 in person, but sends his friend Patroclus ; and 
 upon his being slain, goes forth to revenge his 
 death, and kills Hector. The subject of Fingal 
 is this : Swaran comes to invade Ireland : Cu- 
 thullin, the guardian of the young king, had ap- 
 plied for assistance to Fingal, who reigned in the 
 cpposite coast of Scotland. But before Fingal's
 
 133 A CPITICA.L DISSERTATION OK 
 
 arrival, he is hurried by rash counsel to encoun- 
 ter Swaran. lie is defeated ; he retreats ; and 
 desponds. Fingal arrives in this conjuncture. 
 The battle is for some time dubious ; but in thr 
 end he conquers Swaran ; and the remembrance 
 of Swaran's being the brother of Agandecca, who 
 had once saved his lite, makes him dismiss him 
 honourably. Homer, it is true, has filled up his 
 story with a much greater variety of particulars 
 than Ossian ; and in this has shewn a compass of 
 invention superior to that of the other poet. 
 But it must not be forgotten, that though Ho- 
 mer be more circumstantial, his incidents, how- 
 ever, are less diversified in kind than those of Os- 
 sian. War and bloodshed reign throughout the 
 Iliad ; and notwithstanding all the fertility of 
 Homer's invention, there is so much uniformity 
 in his subjects, that there arc few readers who, 
 before the close, arc not tired of perpetual fight- 
 ing. Whereas in Ossian, the mind is relieved by 
 a more agreeable diversity. There is a finer 
 mixture of \var and heroism, with love and friend- 
 ship, of martial, with tender scenes, than is to be 
 met with, perhaps, in any other poet. The epi- 
 sodes too, have great propriety ; as natural, and 
 proper to that yge and country : consisting of
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 139 
 
 the songs of bards, which are known to have 
 been the great entertainment of the Celtic heroes 
 in war, as well as in peace. These songs are not 
 introduced at random ; if you except the episode 
 of Duchommar and Morna, in the first book, 
 which, though beautiful, is more unartful than 
 any of the rest ; they have always some particu- 
 lar relation to the actor who is interested, or to 
 the events which are going on ; and, whilst they 
 vary the scene, they preserve a sufficient connec- 
 tion with the main subject, by the fitness and 
 propriety of their introduction. 
 
 As Fingal's love to Agandecca influences some 
 circumstances of the poem, particularly the ho- 
 nourable dismission of Swaran at the end ; it was 
 necessary that we should be let into this part of 
 the hero's story. But as it lay without the com- 
 pass of the present action, it could be regularly 
 introduced no where, except in an episode. Ac- 
 cordingly the poet, with as much propriety, as 
 if Aristotle himself had directed the plan, has 
 contrived an episode for this purpose in the song 
 of Carril, at the beginning of the third book. 
 
 The conclusion of the poem is strictly accord- 
 ing to rule ; and is every way noble and pleasing. 
 The reconciliation of the contending heroes, the
 
 140 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 consolation of Cuthullin, and the general felici- 
 ty that crowns the action, sooth the mind in a 
 very agreeable manner, and form that passage 
 from agitation and trouble, to perfect quiet and 
 repose, which critics require as the proper ter- 
 mination of the epic work. " Thus they passed 
 " the night in song, and brought back the morn- 
 " ing with joy. Fingal arose on the heath ; and 
 " shook his glittering spear in his hand. He 
 " moved first towards the plains of Lena ; and 
 " we followed like a ridge of fire. Spread the 
 " sail, said the king of Morven, and catch the 
 " winds that pour from Lena. We rose on the 
 " wave with songs ; and rushed with joy through 
 " the foam of the ocean." So much for the uni- 
 ty and general conduct of the epic action in Fin- 
 gal. 
 
 \Vith regard to that property of the subject 
 which Aristotle requires, that it should be feign- 
 ed, not historical, he must not be understood so 
 strictly, as if he meant to exclude all subjects 
 which have any foundation in truth. For such 
 exclusion would both be unreasonable in itself, 
 and, what is more, would be contrary to the 
 practice of Homer, who is known to have found- 
 ed his Iliad on historical facts concerning the war
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 141 
 
 of Troy, which was famous throughout all 
 Greece. Aristotle means no more than that it is 
 the business of a poet not to be a mere annalist of 
 facts, but to embellish truth with beautiful, pro- 
 bable, and useful fictions ; to copy nature, as he 
 himself explains it, like painters, who preserve a 
 likeness, but exhibit their objects more grand 
 and beautiful than they are in reality. That Os- 
 sian has followed this course, and building upon 
 true history, has sufficiently adorned it with poe- 
 tical fiction for aggrandizing his characters and 
 facts, will not, I believe, be questioned by most 
 readers. At the same time, the foundation 
 which those facts and characters had in truth, 
 and the share which the poet himself had in the 
 transactions which he records, must be consider- 
 ed as no small advantage to his work. For 
 truth makes an impression on the mind far be- 
 yond any fiction ; and no man, let his imagina- 
 tion be ever so strong, relates any events so feel- 
 ingly as those in which he has been interested ; 
 paints any scene so naturally as one which he has 
 seen ; or draws any characters in such strong 
 colours as those which he has personally known. 
 It is considered as an advantage of the epic sub- 
 ject to be taken from a period so distant, as bj
 
 142 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OST 
 
 being involved in the darkness of tradition, may 
 give licence to fable. Though Ossian's subject 
 may at first view appear unfavourable in this re- 
 spect, as being taken from his own times, yet 
 when we reflect that he lived to an extreme old 
 age ; that he relates what had been transacted 
 in another country, at the distance of many 
 years, and after all that race of men who had 
 been the actors were gone oft' the stage ; we shall 
 find the objection in a great measure obviated. 
 In so rude an age, when no written records were 
 known, when tradition was loose, and accuracy 
 of any kind little attended to, what was great 
 and heroic in one generation, easily ripened into 
 the marvellous in the next. 
 
 The natural representation of human characters 
 in an epic poem is highly essential to its merit : 
 and in respect of this there can be no doubt of 
 Homer's excelling all the heroic poets who have 
 ever wrote. But though Ossian be much inferior 
 to Homer in this article, he will be found to be 
 equal at least, if not superior, to Virgil ; and has 
 indeed given all the display of human nature, 
 which the simple occurrences of his times could 
 be expected to furnish. No dead uniformity of 
 '.-haracter prevails in Fingal ; but, on the con-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 143 
 
 Crary, the principal characters are not only clear- 
 ly distinguished, but sometimes artfully contrast- 
 ed, so as to illustrate each other. Ossian's he- 
 roes are, like Homer's, all brave ; but their bra- 
 very, like those of Homer's too, is of different 
 kinds. For instance, the prudent, the sedate, the 
 modest and circumspect Connal, is finely oppo- 
 sed to the presumptuous, rash, overbearing, but 
 gallant and generous Calniar. Calmar hurries 
 Cuthullin into action by his temerity ; and when 
 he sees the bad effect of his counsels, he will not 
 survive the disgrace. Connal, like another Ulys- 
 ses, attends Cuthullin to his retreat, counsels, 
 and comforts him under his misfortune. The 
 fierce, the proud, the high-spirited Swaran is ad- 
 mirably contrasted with the calm, the moderate, 
 und generous Fingal. The character of Oscar 
 is a favourite one throughout the whole poems. 
 The amiable warmth of the young warrior ; his 
 eager impetuosity in the day of action ; his pas- 
 sion for fame ; his submission to his father ; his 
 tenderness for Malvina, are the strokes of a mas- 
 terly pencil ; the strokes are few; but it is the 
 hand of nature, and attracts the heart. Ossian's 
 own character, the old man, the hero, and the 
 bard, all in one, presents to us through the
 
 14-4- A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 whole work a most respectable and venerable 
 figure, which we always contemplate with plea- 
 sure. Cuthullin is a hero of the highest class ; 
 daring, magnanimous, and exquisitely sensible to 
 honour. We become attached to his interest, 
 and are deeply touched with his distress ; and af- 
 ter the admiration raised for him in the first part 
 of the poem, it is a strong proof of Ossian's mas- 
 terly genius that he durst adventure to produce to 
 us another hero, compared with whom, even the 
 great Cuthullin should be only an inferior per- 
 sonage ; and who should rise as far above him, 
 as Cuthullin rises above the rest. 
 
 Here indeed, in the character and description 
 of Fingal, Ossian triumphs almost unrivalled : 
 for we may boldly defy all antiquity to shew us 
 any hero equal to Fingal. Homer's Hector posses- 
 ses several great and amiable qualities ; but Hec- 
 tor is a secondary personage in the Iliad, not the 
 hero of the work. We sec him only occasionally ; 
 we know much less of him than we do of Fingal ; 
 who not only in this Epic poem, but in Tenvora, 
 and throughout the rest of Ossian's works, is pre- 
 sented in all that variety of lights, which give 
 the full display of a character. And though 
 Hector faithfully discharges his duty to hiscouu- 
 5
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 145 
 
 try, his friends, and his family, he is tinctured, 
 however, with a degree of the same savage feroci- 
 ty, which prevails among all the Homeric heroes. 
 For we find him insulting over the fallen Patro- 
 clus, with the most cruel taunts, and telling him, 
 when he lies in the agony of death, that Achilles 
 cannot help him now ; and that in a short time 
 his body, stripped naked, and deprived of funeral 
 honours, shall be devoured by the vultur- 
 "Whereas in the character of Fingal, concur al- 
 most all the qualities that can ennoble human 
 nature ; that can either make us admire the he- 
 ro, or love the man. He is not only uncon- 
 querable in war, but he makes his people happy 
 by his wisdom in the days of peace. He is tru- 
 ly the father of his people. He is known by the 
 epithet of " Fingal of the mildest look ;" and dis- 
 tinguished, on every occasion, by humanity and 
 generosity. He is merciful to his foesf; full of 
 
 * Iliad, xvi. 830. TI. xvii. 127. 
 
 t When he commands his sons, after Swaran is taken 
 prisoner, to " pursue the rest of Lochlin, over the heath 
 " of Lena; that no vessel may hereafter bound on the 
 " dark rolling waves of Inistore j" he means not assured- 
 Jy, as some have misrepresented him, to order a general 
 slaughter of the foes, and to prevent their saving thein- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 146' 
 
 affection to his children ; full of concern about 
 his friends ; and never mentions Agandecca, his 
 first love, without the utmost tenderness. 11. 
 is the universal protector of the distressed ; 
 " None ever went sad from Fingal." " O Os- 
 " car! bend the strong inarms; but spare the 
 " feeble hand. Be thou a stream of many tides 
 " against the foes of thy people ; but like the 
 " gale that moves the grass to those who ask 
 " thine aid. So Trenmor lived ; such Trathal 
 " was ; and such has Fingal been. My arm was 
 " the support of the injured; the weak rested 
 " behind the lightning of my steel." ' These were 
 the maxims of true heroism, to which he formed 
 his grandson. His fame is represented as every 
 where spread ; the greatest heroes acknowledge 
 his superiority ; his enemies tremble at his name ; 
 and the highest encomium that can be bestowed 
 on one whom the poet would most exalt, is to 
 say, that his soul was like the soul of Fingal. 
 
 To do justice to the poet's merit, in support- 
 ing such a character as this, I must observe, 
 
 selves by flight ; "but, like a wise general, he commands 
 his chiefs to reuder the victory complete, by a total 
 rout of the enemy; that they might adventure no more 
 for the future, to fit out any fleet against him or l.is allies.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAK. 147 
 
 what is not commonly attended to, that there is 
 no part of poetical execution more difficult, 
 than to draw a perfect character in such a man- 
 ner, as to render it distinct and affecting to the 
 mind. Some strokes of human imperfection and 
 frailty, are what usually give us the most clear 
 view, and the most sensible impression of a cha- 
 racter ; because they present to us a man, such 
 as we have seen ; they recal known features of 
 human nature. When poets attempt to go be- 
 yond this range, and describes a faultless hero, 
 they, for the most part, set before us a sort of 
 vague undistinguishablc character, such as the 
 imagination cannot lay hold of, or realize to it- 
 self, as the object of affection. We know how 
 much Virgil has failed in this particular. His 
 perfect hero, /Eneas, is an unanimated, insipid 
 personage, whom we may pretend to admire, but 
 whom no one can heartily love. But what 
 Virgil has failed in, Ossian, to our astonishment, 
 has successfully executed. His Fingal, though 
 exhibited without any of the common human 
 failings, is nevertheless a real man ; a character 
 which touches and interests every reader. To 
 this it has much contributed, that the poet has 
 represented him as an old man j and by this has
 
 148 A CRITICAL DISSERTATIOK ON 
 
 gained the advantage of throwing around him a 
 great many circumstances, peculiar to that age, 
 which paint him to the fancy in a more distinct 
 light. He is surrounded with his family : he in- 
 structs his children in the principles of virtue : he 
 is narrative of his past exploits ; he is venerable 
 with the grey locks of age; he is frequently dis- 
 posed to moralize, like an old man, on human 
 vanity and the prospect of death. There is more 
 art, at least more ielicity, in this, than may at 
 first be imagined. For youth and old age, are 
 the two states of human life, capable of being 
 placed in the most picturesque lights. Middle 
 age is more general and vague ; and has fewer 
 circumstances peculiar to the idea of it. And 
 when any object is in a situation that admits it 
 to be rendered particular, and to be cloathed 
 with a variety of circumstances, it always stands 
 out more clear and full in poetical description. 
 
 Besides human personages, divine or superna- 
 tural agents are often introduced into epic poe- 
 try ; forming what is called the machinery of it ; 
 which most critics hold to be an essential part. 
 The marvellous, it must be admitted, has always 
 a great charm for the bulk of readers. It gra- 
 tifies the imagination, and affords room for
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAST. 149 
 
 striking and sublime description. No wonder, 
 therefore, that all poets have a strong propensi- 
 ty towards it. But I must observe, that nothing 
 is more difficult, than to adjust properly the 
 marvellous with the probable. If a poet sacri- 
 fice probability, and fill his work with extrava- 
 gant supernatural scenes, he spreads over it an 
 appearance of romance and childish fiction ; he 
 transports his reader from this world, into a fan- 
 tastic, visionary region ; and loses that weight 
 and dignity which should reign in epic poetry 
 No work, from which probability is altogether 
 banished, can make a lasting and deep impres- 
 sion. Human actions and manners, are always 
 the most interesting objects which can be pre- 
 sented to a human mind. All machinery, there- 
 fore, is faulty which withdraws these too much, 
 from view ; or obscures them under a cloud of in- 
 credible fictions. Besides being temperately em- 
 ployed, machinery ought always to have some 
 foundation in popular belief. A poet is by no 
 means at liberty to invent what system of the 
 marvellous he pleases : he must avail himself 
 either of the religious faith, or the superstitious 
 credulity of the country wherein he lives ; so as
 
 150 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 to give an air of probability to events which are 
 most contrary to the common course of nature. 
 
 In these respects, Ossian appears to me to 
 have been remarkably happy. lie has indeed 
 followed the same course with Homer. For it is 
 perfectly absurd to imagine, as some critics have 
 done, that Homer's mythology was invented by 
 liim, in consequence of profound reflections on 
 the benefit it would yield to poetry. Homer 
 was no such refining genius. He found the tra- 
 ditionary stories on which he built his Iliad, 
 mingled with popular legends concerning the in- 
 tervention of the gods ; and he adopted these, 
 because they amused the fancy. Ossian, in 
 like manner, found the tales of his country full 
 of ghosts and spirits: It is likely he believed 
 them himself; and he introduced them, because 
 they gave his poems that solemn and marvellous 
 cast, which suited his genius. This was the on- 
 ly machinery he could employ with propriety ; 
 becajuse it was the only intervention of superna- 
 tural beings, which agreed with the common be- 
 lief of the country. It was happy ; because it 
 did not interfere in the least with the proper dis- 
 play of human characters and actions ; because 
 it had less of the incredible than most other
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 151 
 
 kinds of poetical machinery ; and because it 
 served to diversify -the scene, and to heighten the 
 subject by an awful grandeur, which is the great 
 design of machinery. 
 
 As Ossian's mythology is peculiar to himself, 
 and makes a considerable figure in his other 
 poems, as well as in Fingal, it may be proper to 
 make some observations on it, independent of its 
 subserviency to epic composition. It turns, for 
 the most part, on the appearances of departed 
 spirits. These, consonantly to the notions of 
 every rude age, are represented not as purely 
 immaterial, but as thin airy forms, which can be 
 visible or invisible at pleasure; their voice is 
 feeble ; their arm is weak ; but they are endow- 
 ed with knowledge more than human. In a se- 
 parate state, they retain the same dispositions 
 which animated them in life. They ride on the 
 wind; they bend their airy bows; and pursue 
 deer formed of clouds. The ghosts of departed 
 bards continue to sing. The ghosts of departed 
 heroes frequent the fields of their former fame. 
 " They rest together in their caves, and talk of 
 " mortal men. Their songs are of other worlds. 
 " They come sometimes to the ear of rest, and 
 " raise their feeble voice." All this presents
 
 152 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 to us much tlie same set of ideas, concerning 
 spirits, as wo lind in the eleventh book of the 
 Odyssey, where Ulysses visift the regions of the 
 dead : and in the twenty-third book of the Iliad, 
 the ghost of Patroclus, after appearing to Achil- 
 les, vanishes precisely like one of Ossian's, emit- 
 ting a shrill, feeble cry, and melting away like 
 smoke. 
 
 But though Homer's and Ossian's ideas con- 
 cerning ghosts were of the same nature, we can- 
 not but observe, that Ossian's ghosts are drawn 
 with much stronger and livelier colours than 
 those of Homer. Ossian describes ghosts with 
 all the particularity of one who had seen and 
 conversed with them, and whose imagination was 
 full of the impression they had left upon it. He 
 calls up those awful and tremendous ideas which 
 the 
 
 Simulacra modis pallentia miris, 
 
 are fitted to raise in the human mind; and 
 which, in Shakespeare's style, " harrow up the 
 " soul." Crugal's ghost, in particular, in the 
 beginning of the second book of Fingal, may vie 
 with any appearance of this kind, described by 
 any epic or tragic poet whatever. Most poets
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 155 
 
 would have contented themselves with telling us, 
 that he resembled, in every particular, the living 
 Crugal ; that his form and dress were the same, 
 only his face more pale and sad ; and that he 
 bore the mark of the wound by which he fell. 
 But Ossian sets before our eyes a spirit from the 
 invisible world, distinguished by all those fea- 
 tures, which a strong astonished imagination 
 would give to a ghost. " A dark red stream of 
 " fire comes down from the hill. Crugal sat up- 
 " on the beam ; he that lately fell by the hand 
 " of Swaran, striving in the battle of heroes. 
 " His face is like the beam of the setting moon. 
 " His robes are of the clouds of the hill. His 
 " eyes are like two decaying flames. Dark is 
 " the wound of his breast. The stars dim-twink- 
 " led through his form ; and his voice was like 
 " the sound of a distant stream." The circum- 
 stance of the stars being beheld, " dim-twinkling 
 " through his form," is wonderfully picturesque ; 
 and conveys the most lively impression of his 
 thin and shadowy substance. The attitude in 
 which he is afterwards placed, and the speech 
 put into his mouth, arc full of that solemn and 
 awful sublimity, which suits the subject. " Dim, 
 " and in tears, he stood, and stretched his pale
 
 154 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " hand over the hero. Faintly he raised his 
 " feeble voice, like the gale of the reedy Lego. 
 " ^ty g' los t, O Connal ! is on my native hills ; 
 " but my corse is on the sands of Ullin. Thou 
 " shall never talk with Crugal, or find his lone 
 " steps in the heath. I am light as the blast of 
 " Cromla ; and I move like the shadow of mist. 
 " Connal, son of Colgar ! I see the' dark cloud 
 *' of death. It hovers over the plains of Lena. 
 " The sons of green Erin shall fall. Remove 
 " from the field of ghosts. Like the darkened 
 " moon he retired in the midst of the whistling 
 " blast." 
 
 Several other appearances of spirits might be 
 pointed out, as among the most sublime passa- 
 ges of Ossian's poetry. The circumstances of 
 them are considerably diversified ; and the sce- 
 nery always suited to the occasion. " Oscar 
 " slowly ascends the hill. 1 he meteors of night 
 " set on the heath before him. A distant tor- 
 " rent faintly roars. Unfrequent blasts rush 
 *' through the aged oaks. The half-enlightened 
 " moon sinks dim and red behind her hill. Fee- 
 " ble voices are heard on the heath. Oscar 
 " drew his sword." Nothing can prepare the 
 fancy more happily for the awful scene that is to
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 155 
 
 follow. " Trenmor came from his hill, at the 
 " voice of his mighty son. A cloud like the 
 " steed of the stranger, supported his airy limbs. 
 " His robe is of the mist of Lano, that brings 
 " death to the people. His sword is a green me- 
 " teor, half-extinguished, His face is without 
 " form, and dark. He sighed thrice over the 
 " hero : And thjice, the winds ot the night roar- 
 " ed around. Many were his words to Oscar. 
 " He slowly vanished, like a mist that melts on 
 " the sunny hill." To appearances of this kind, 
 we can find no parallel among the Greek or Ro- 
 man poets. They bring to mind that noble de- 
 scription in the book of Job : " In thoughts 
 " from the visions of the night, when deep sleep 
 " fallcth on men, fear came upon me, and trem- 
 " bling, which made all my bones to shake. 
 " Then a spirit passed before my face. The hair 
 " of my flesh stood up. It stood still ; but I 
 " could not discern the form thereof. An image 
 " was before mine eyes. There was silence ; and I 
 " heard a voice Shall mortal man be more just 
 " than God *!" 
 
 As Ossian's supernatural beings are described 
 
 * Job. iv. 13. 17.
 
 156 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 with a surprising force of imagination, so they 
 arc introduced with propriety. We have only 
 three ghosts in Fingal : That of Crugal, which 
 comes to warn the host of impending destruction, 
 and to advise them to save themselves by retreat ; 
 that of Evirallin, the spouse of Ossian, which calls 
 him to rise and rescue their son from danger ; 
 and that of Agandecca, which, just before the 
 last engagement with Swaran, moves Fingal to' 
 pity, by mourning for the approaching destruc- 
 tion of her kinsmen and people. In the other 
 poems, ghosts sometimes appear when invoked 
 to foretell futurity ; frequently, according to the 
 notions of these times, they come as forerunners 
 of misfortune or death, to those whom they vi- 
 sit; sometimes they inform their friends at a 
 distance, of their own death ; and sometimes 
 they are introduced to heighten the scenery on 
 some great and solemn occasion. " A hundred 
 " oaks burn to the wind ; and faint light gleams 
 " over the heath. The ghosts of Ardven pass 
 " through the beam ; and shew their dim and 
 " distant forms. Comala is half unseen on her 
 
 " meteor ; and Hidallan is sullen and dim." 
 
 " The awful faces of other times, looked from 
 " the clouds of Crona." Fercuth ! I saw the
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 15 
 
 ' ghost of night. Silent he stood on that bank, 
 " his robe of mist flew on the wind. I could be- 
 " hold his tears. An aged man he seemed, and 
 " full of thought." 
 
 The ghosts of strangers mingle not with those 
 of the natives. " She is seen ; but not like the 
 " daughters of the hill. Her robes are from 
 " the strangers land ; and she is still alone." 
 When the ghost of one whom we had formerly 
 .known is introduced, the propriety of the living 
 character is still preserved. This is remarkable 
 in the appearance of Calmar's ghost, in the poem 
 entitled The Death of Cuthullin. He seems to 
 forebode Cuthullin's death, and to beckon him to 
 his cave. Cuthullin reproaches him for suppo- 
 sing that he could be intimidated by such prog- 
 nostics. " Why dost thou bend thy dark eyes 
 " on me, ghost of the car-borne Calmar ? 
 " Wouldst thou frighten me, O Matha's son ! 
 " from the battles of Cormac ? Thy hand was 
 " not feeble in war ; neither was thy voice for 
 " peace. How art thou changed, chief of La- 
 " ra ! if now thou dost advise to fly! Retire. 
 " thou to thy cave : Thou are not Calmar's 
 " ghost : He delighted in battle ; and his arm 
 " was like tke thunder of heaven." Calmar
 
 158 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 makes no return to this seeming reproach: But, 
 " He retired in his blast with joy; for he had 
 " heard the voice of his praise." This is pre- 
 cisely the ghost of Achilles in Homer ; who, 
 notwithstanding all the dissatisfaction he expres- 
 ses with his state in the region of the dead, as 
 soon as he had heard his son Neoptolemus prai- 
 sed for his gallant behaviour, strode away with 
 silent joy to rejoin the rest of the shades*. 
 
 It is a great advantage of Ossian's mythology, 
 that it is not local and temporary, like that of 
 most other ancient poets ; which of course is apt 
 to seem ridiculous, after the superstitions have 
 passed away on which it was founded. Ossian's 
 mythology is, to speak so, the mythology of hu- 
 man 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 ap- 
 pearances of departed spirits. Homer's machi- 
 nery is always lively and amusing ; but far from 
 being always supported with proper dignity. 
 The indecent squabbles among his gods, surely 
 do no honour to epic poetry. Whereas Ossian's 
 machinery has dignity upon all occasions. It is 
 
 * Odyss. Lib. 11.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAW. 159 
 
 indeed a dignity of the dark and awful kind ; 
 but this is proper ; because coincident with the 
 strain and spirit of the poetry. A light and gay 
 mythology, like Homer's, would have been per- 
 fectly unsuitable to the subject on which Os- 
 sian's genius was employed. But though his 
 machinery be always solemn, it is not, however, 
 alway% dreary or dismal ; it is enlivened, as 
 much as the subject would permit, by those 
 pleasant and beautiful appearances, which he 
 sometimes introduces, of the spirits of the hill. 
 These are gentle spirits ; descending on sun- 
 beams ; fair-moving on the plain ; their forms 
 white and bright ; their voices sweet ; and their 
 visits to men propitious. The greatest praise 
 that can be given, to the beauty of a living wo- 
 man, is to say, " She is fair as the ghost of the 
 " hill ; when it moves in a sun-beam at noon, 
 " over the silence of Morven." " The hunter 
 " shall hear my voice from his booth. He shall 
 " fear, but love my voice. For sweet shall my 
 " voice be for my friends ; for pleasant were 
 " they to me." 
 
 Besides ghosts, or the spirits of departed men, 
 we find in Ossian some instances of other kinds 
 of machinery. Spirits of a superior nature to
 
 l60 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 ghosts are sometimes alluded to, which have 
 power to embroil the deep ; to call forth winds 
 and storms, and pour them on the land of the 
 stranger ; to overturn forests, and to send death 
 among the people. We have prodigies too ; a 
 shower of blood ; and when some disaster is be- 
 ialling at a distance, the sound of death heard 
 on the strings of Ossian's harp : all perfectly 
 consonant, not only to the peculiar ideas of 
 northern nations, but to the general current of a 
 superstitious imagination in all countries. The 
 description of Fingal's airy hall, in the poem cal- 
 led Berrathon, and of the ascent of Malvina in- 
 to it, deserves particular notice, as remarkably 
 noble and magnificent.. But above all, the en- 
 gagement of Fingal with the spirit of Loda, in 
 Carric-thura, cannot be mentioned without ad- 
 miration. I forbear transcribing the passage, as 
 it must have drawn the attention of every one 
 who has read the works of Ossian. The un- 
 daunted courage of Fingal, opposed to all the 
 terrors of the Scandinavian God ; the appear- 
 ance and the speech of that awful spirit ; the 
 wound which he receives, and the shriek which 
 he sends forth, " as, rolled into himself, he rose 
 " upon the wind ;" are full of the most amazing 
 5
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. l6\ 
 
 and terrible majesty. I kno\v no passage more 
 sublime in the writings of any uninspired author. 
 The fiction is calculated to aggrandize the hero ; 
 which it does to a high degree ; nor is it so un- 
 natural or wild a fiction, as might at first be 
 thought. According to the notions of those 
 times, supernatural beings were material, and 
 conseqtfcntly, vulnerable. The spirit of Loda 
 was not acknowledged as a deity by Fingal ; he 
 did not worship at the stone of his power ; he 
 plainly considered him as the God of his enemies 
 alone ; as a local deity, whose dominion extend- 
 ed no further than. to the regions where he was 
 worshipped ; who had, therefore, no title to 
 threaten him, and no claim to his submission. 
 We know there arc poetical precedents of great 
 authority, for fictions fully as extravagant ; and 
 if Homer be forgiven for making Diomed attack 
 and wound in battle, the gods whom that chief 
 himself worshipped, Ossian surely is pardonable 
 for making his hero superior to the god of a fo- 
 reign territory*. 
 
 * The scene of this encounter of Fingal wit!) the spi- 
 rit of Loda is laid at Inistore, or the islands of Orkney ; 
 and in the description of Fingal's landing there, it is 
 said, " A rock bends along the coast with all its echoing 
 VOL. I. I*
 
 1&2 A CRITICAL UISSERTATION ON 
 
 Notwithstanding the poetical advantages which 
 I have ascribed to Ossian's machinery, I ac- 
 knowledge it would have been much more beau- 
 tiful and perfect, had the author discovered 
 some knowledge of a Supreme Being. Although 
 his silence on this head has been accounted for 
 by the learned and ingenious translator in a 
 very probable manner, yet still it mu& be held 
 
 " wood. On the top is the circle of Loda, with the raos- 
 " sy stone of power." In confirmation of Ossian's to- 
 pography, it is proper to acquaint the reader, that in 
 these islands, as I have been well informed, there are 
 many pillars, and circles of stones, still remaining, known 
 by the name of the stones and circles of Loda, or Lodeu ; 
 to which some degree of superstitious regard is annexed 
 to this day. These islands, until the 3'ear 1-163, made a 
 part of the Danish dominions. Their ancient language, 
 of which there are yet some remains among the natives, 
 is called the Norse ; and is a dialect, not of the Celtic, 
 but of the Scandinavian tongue. The manners and the 
 superstitions of the inhabitants are quite distinct from 
 those of the Highlands and western isles of Scotland. 
 Their ancient songs, too, are of a different strain and 
 character, turning upon magical incantations and evoca- 
 tions from the dead, which were the favourite subjects 
 of the old Runic poetry. They have many traditions a- 
 inong them, of wars in former times with the inhabitant* 
 of the western islands.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 
 
 ift 
 
 a considerable disadvantage to the poetry. For 
 the most august and lofty ideas that can embel- 
 lish poetry are derived from the belief of a di- 
 vine administration of the universe : And hence 
 the ^vocation of a Supreme Being, or at least 
 of some superior powers who are conceived as 
 presiding over human affairs, the solemnities of 
 religious worship, prayers preferred, and assis- 
 tance implored on critical occasions, appear with 
 great dignity in the works of almost all poets as 
 chief ornaments of their compositions. The ab- 
 sence of all such religious ideas from Ossian's 
 poetry, is a sensible blank in it ; the more to be 
 regretted, as we can easily imagine what an il- 
 lustrious figure they would have made under the 
 management of such a genius as his ; and how 
 finely they would have been adapted to many si- 
 tuations which occur in his works. 
 
 After so particular an examination of Fingal, 
 it were needless to enter into as full a discussion 
 of the conduct of Temora, the other epic poem. 
 Many of the same observations, especially with 
 regard to the great characteristics of heroic poe- 
 try, apply to both. The high merit, however, 
 of Temora, requires that we should not pass it 
 by without some remarks.
 
 lO-i A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 The scene of Temora, as of Fingal, is laid in 
 Ireland ; and the action is of a posterior date. 
 The subject is, an expedition of the hero, to de- 
 throne and punish a bloody usurper, and to re- 
 store the possession of the kingdom to tlift pos- 
 terity of the lawful prince ; an undertaking 
 worthy of the justice and heroism of the great 
 Fingal. The action is one, and complete. The 
 poem opens with the descent of Fingal on the 
 coast, and the consultation held among the chiefs 
 of the enemy. The murder of the young prince 
 Cormac, which was the cause of the war, being 
 antecedent to the epic action, is introduced with 
 great propriety as an episode in the first book. 
 In the progress of the poem, three battles are de- 
 scribed, which rise in their importance above 
 one another ; the success is various, and the is- 
 sue for some time doubtful ; till at last, Fingal 
 brought into distress, by the, wound of his great 
 general, Gaul, and the death of his son Fillan, 
 assumes the command himself, and having slain 
 the king in single combat, restores the rightful 
 heir to his throne. 
 
 Temora has perhaps less fire than the other 
 epic poem ; but in return it lias more variety, 
 more tenderness, and more magnificence. The
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 165 
 
 reigning idea, so often presented to us of " Fin- 
 " gal in the last of his fields," is venerable and 
 affecting ; nor could any more noble conclusion 
 be thought of, than the aged hero, after so many 
 successful atchievements, taking his leave of bat- 
 tles, and with all the solemnities of those times 
 resigning his spear to his son. The events are 
 less crouded in Temora than in Fingal ; actions 
 and characters are more particularly displayed ; 
 we are let into the transactions of both hosts ; 
 and informed of the adventures of the night as 
 well as of the day. The still pathetic, and the ro- 
 mantic scenery of several of the night adventures, 
 so remarkably suited to Ossian's genius, occasion 
 a fine diversity in the poem ; and are happily 
 contrasted with the military operations of the 
 day. 
 
 In most of our author's poems, the horrors of 
 war arc softened by intermixed scenes of love 
 and friendship. In Fingal, these are introduced 
 as episodes ; in Temora, we have an incident of 
 this nature wrought into the body of the piece ; 
 in the adventure of Cathmor and Sulmalla. 
 This forms one of the most conspicuous beau- 
 ties of that poem. The distress of Sulmalla, 
 disguised and unknown among strangers, her 
 tender and anxious concern for the safety of
 
 166 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 Cathmor, her dream, and her melting remem- 
 brance of the land of her fathers ; Cathmor's 
 emotion when he first discovers her, his strug- 
 gles to conceal and express his passion, lest 
 it should unman him in the midst of war, 
 " though his soul poured forth in secret, when 
 " he beheld her fearful eye ;" and the last inter- 
 view between them, when overcome by her ten- 
 derness, he lets her know he had 'discovered her, 
 and confesses his passion ; are all wrought up 
 with the most exquisite sensibility and delicacy. 
 Besides the characters which appeared in Fin- 
 gal, several new ones are here introduced ; and 
 though, as they are all the characters of war- 
 riors, bravery is the predominant feature, they 
 are nevertheless diversified in a sensible and stri- 
 king manner. Foldath, for instance, the general 
 of Cathmor, exhibits the perfect picture of a sa- 
 vage chieftain : bold, and daring, but presump- 
 tuous, cruel, and overbearing. He is distinguish- 
 ed, on his first appearance, as the friend of the 
 tyrant Cairbar ; " Ilis stride is haughty ; his red 
 eye rolls in wrath." In his person and whole de- 
 portment, he is contrasted with the mild and 
 wise Hidalla, another leader of the same army, 
 on whose humanity and gentleness he looks with 
 great contempt. He professedly delights in strife
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. l67 
 
 and blood. He insults over the fallen. He is 
 unrelenting in all his schemes of revenge, even 
 to the length of denying the funeral song to the 
 dead ; which, from the injury thereby done to 
 their ghosts, was, in those days, considered as the 
 greatest barbaiity. Fierce to the last, he com- 
 forts himself in his dying moments, with think- 
 ing that his ghost shall often leave its 'blast to 
 rejoice over the graves of those he had slain. 
 Yet Ossian, ever prone to the pathetic, has con- 
 trived to throw into his account of the death 
 even of this man, some tender circumstances ; by 
 the moving description of his daughter Dardule- 
 na, the last of his race. 
 
 The character of Folclath tends much to exalt 
 that of Cathmor, the chief commander, which is 
 distinguished by the most humane virtues. He 
 abhors all fraud and cruelty, is famous for his 
 hospitality to strangers, open to every generous 
 sentiment, and to every soft and compassionate 
 feeling. lie is so amiable as to divide the rea- 
 der's attachment between him and the hero of the 
 poem ; though our author has artfully managed 
 it so, as to make Cathmor himself indirectly ac- 
 knowledge Fingal's superiority, and to appear 
 somewhat apprehensive of the event, after the 
 death of Fillan, which he knew would call forth
 
 l6S A CRITICAL DISSERTATION O^f 
 
 Fingal in all his might. It is very remarkable, 
 that although Ossian has introduced in his poems 
 three complete heroes, Cuthullin, Cathmor, and 
 Fingal, he has, however, sensibly distinguished 
 each of their characters. Cuthullin is particu- 
 larly honourable ; Calhmor particularly amiable ; 
 Fingal wise, and great, retaining an ascendant 
 peculiar to himself in whatever light he is viewed. 
 
 But the favourite figure in Temora, and the 
 one most highly finished, is Fillan. His charac- 
 ter is of that sort, for which Ossian shews a par- 
 ticular fondness : an eager, fervent, young war- 
 rior, fired with all the impatient enthusiasm for 
 military glory, peculiar to that time of life. lie 
 had sketched this in the description of his own 
 son Oscar; but as he has extended it more fully 
 in Fillan, and as the character is so consonant 
 to the epic strain, though, so far as I remember, 
 not placed in such a conspicuous light by any 
 other epic poet, it may be worth while to attend 
 a little to Ossian's management of it in this in- 
 stance. 
 
 Fillan was the youngest of all the sons of Fin- 
 gal ; younger, it is plain, than his nephew Os- 
 car, by whose fame and great deeds in war, we 
 may naturally suppose his ambition to have been
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. lp 
 
 highly stimulated. Withal, as he is younger, he 
 is described as more rash and fiery. His first 
 appearance is soon after Oscar's death, when he 
 was employed to watch the motions of the foe by 
 night. In a conversation with his brother Os- 
 sian, on that occasion, we learn that it was not 
 long since he began to lift the spear. " Few are 
 " the marks of my sword in battle ; but my soul 
 *' is fire." He is with some difficulty restrained 
 by Ossian from going to attack the enemy; and 
 complains to him, that his father had never al- 
 lowed him any opportunity of signalizing his va- 
 lour. " The king hath not remarked my sword ; 
 " I go for^h with the crowd ; 1 return without 
 " my fame." Soon after, when Fingal according 
 to custom was to appoint one of his chiefs to 
 command the army, and each \\as standing forth, 
 and putting in his claim to this honour, Fillan 
 is presented in the following most picturesque 
 and natural attitude. " On his spear stood 
 " the son of Clatho, in the wandering of his 
 " locks. Thrice he raised his eyes to Fingal : 
 " his voice thrice failed him as he spoke. Fil- 
 " Ian could not boast of battles, at once he strode 
 " away. Bent over a distant stream he stood ; 
 " the tear hung in his eye. lie struck, at times,
 
 170 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " the thistle's head, with his inverted spear." 
 No less natural and beautiful is the description 
 of Fingal's paternal emotion on this occasion. 
 " Nor is he unseen of Fingal. Side-long he be- 
 " held his son. He beheld him with bursting 
 " joy. He hid the big tear with his locks, and 
 " turned amidst his crouded soul." The com- 
 mand, for that day, being given to Gaul, Fillan 
 rushes amidst the thickest of the foe, saves Gaul's^ 
 life, who is wounded by a random arrow, and 
 distinguishes himself so in battle, that " the days 
 " of old return on Fingal's mind, as he beholds 
 " the renown of his son. As the sun rejoices 
 " from the cloud, over the tree his beams have 
 " raised, whilst it shakes its lonely head on the 
 " heath, so joyful is the king over Fillan/' Se- 
 date however and wise, he mixes the praise which 
 he bestows on him with some reprehension of his 
 rashness. " My son, I saw thy deeds, and my 
 " soul was glad. Thou art brave, son of Cla- 
 " tho, but headlong in the strife. So did not 
 " Fingal advance, though he never feared a foe. 
 " Let thy people be a ridge behind thce ; they 
 ' are thy Strength in the field. Then shall thou 
 " be long renowned, and behold the tombs of 
 " thy fathers."
 
 THE POEMS OP OSSIAN. 1/1 
 
 On the next day, the greatest and the last of 
 Fillan's life, the charge is committed to him of 
 leading on the host to battle. Fingal's speech to 
 his troops on this occasion is full of noble sen- 
 timent ; and where he recommends his son to 
 their care, extremely touching. " A young 
 " beam is before you ; lew are his steps to war. 
 " They are few, but he is valiant; defend my 
 " dark-haired son. Bring him back with joy ; 
 " hereafter he may stand alone. His form is 
 " like his fathers ; his soul is a flame of their 
 " fire.'"' When the battle begins, the poet puts 
 forth his strength to describe the exploits of the 
 young hero ; who, at last encountering and kil- 
 ling with his own hand Foldath the opposite ge- 
 neral, attains the pinnacle of glory. In what 
 follows, when the fate of Fillan is drawing near, 
 Ossian, if any where, excels himself. Foldath 
 being slain, and a general rout begun, there was 
 no resource left to the enemy but in the great 
 Cathmor himself, who in this extremity descends 
 from the hill, where, according to the custom of 
 those princes, he surveyed the battle. Observe 
 how this critical event is wrought up by the pqet. 
 " Vude spreading over echoing Lubar, the flight 
 " of Bolga is rolled alonz. Fillan hung forward
 
 172 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " on their steps ; and strewed the heath with 
 " dead. Fingal rejoiced over his son. Blue- 
 " shielded Cathmor rose. Son of Alphin, bring 
 " the harp ! Give Fillan's praise to the wind ; 
 " raise high his praise in my hall, while yet he 
 " shines in war. Leave, blue-eyed Clatho ! leave 
 " thy hall ; behold that early beam of thine ! 
 " The host is withered in its course. No farther 
 " look it is dark light-trembling from the 
 " harp, strike, virgins ! strike the sound." The 
 sudden interruption, and suspense of the narra- 
 tion on Cathmor's rising from his hill, the ab- 
 rupt bursting into the praise of Fillan, and the 
 passionate apostrophe to his mother Clatho, are 
 admirable efforts of poetical art, in order to in- 
 terest us in Fillan's danger ; and the whole is 
 heightened by the immediately following simile, 
 one of the most magnificent and sublime that is 
 to be met with in any poet, and which if it had 
 been found in Homer, would have been the fre- 
 quent subject of admiration to critics ; " Fillan 
 " is like a spirit of heaven, that descends from 
 " the skirt of his blast. The troubled ocean 
 " feels his steps, as he strides from wave to wave; 
 " his path kindles behind him ; islands shake 
 " their heads on the heaving seas/'
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 173 
 
 But the poet's art is not yet exhausted. The 
 fall of this noble young warrior, or, in Ossian's 
 style, the extinction of this beam of heaven, 
 could not be rendered too interesting and affect- 
 ing. Our attention is naturally drawn towards 
 Fingal. He beholds from his hill the rising of 
 Cathraor, and the danger of his son. But what 
 shall he do ? " Shall Fingal rise to his aid, and 
 *' take the sword of Luno ? What then should 
 " become of thy fame, son of white-bosomed 
 " Clatho ? Turn not thine eyes from Fingal, 
 " daughter of Inistorc ! I shall not quench thy 
 " early beam. No cloud of mine shall rise, my 
 " son, upon thy soul of fire." Struggling be- 
 tween concern for the fame, and fear for the safe- 
 ty of his son, he withdraws from the sight of the 
 engagement ; -and dispatches Ossian in haste to 
 the field, with this affectionate and delicate in- 
 junction : " Father of Oscar !" addressing him by 
 a title which on this occasion has the highest 
 propriety, " Father of Oscar ! lift the spear ; 
 <f defend the young in arms. But conceal thy 
 " steps from Fillan's eyes : He must not know 
 " that I doubt his steel." Ossian arrived too 
 late. .But unwilling to describe Fillan vanquish- 
 ed, the poet suppresses all the circumstances of
 
 174 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 the combat with Cathmor; and only shews us 
 the dying hero. We see him animated to the 
 end with the same martial and ardent spirit ; 
 breathing his last in bitter regret for being so 
 early cut off from the field of glory. " Ossian, 
 " lay me in that hollow rock. Raise no stone 
 " above me, lest one should ask about my fame. 
 " I am fallen in the first of my fields ; fallen 
 " without renown. Let thy voice alone, send 
 "joy to my flying soul. Why should the bard 
 " know where dwells the early-fallen Fillan." 
 He who, after tracing the circumstances of this 
 story, shall deny that our bard is possessed of 
 high sentiment and high art, must be strangely 
 prejudiced indeed. Let him read the story of 
 Pallas in Virgil, which is of a similar kind ; and 
 after all the praise he may justly bestow on the 
 elegant and finished description of that amiable 
 author, let him say which of the two poets un- 
 fold most of the human soul. I wave insisting 
 on any more of the particulars in Temora ; as 
 my aim is rather to lead the reader into the ge- 
 nius and spirit of Ossian's poetry, than to dwell 
 on all his beauties. 
 
 The judgment and art discovered in conduct- 
 ing works of such length as Fingal and Temora,
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAtf. 175 
 
 distinguish them from the other poems in this 
 collection. The smaller pieces, however, con- 
 tain particular beauties no less eminent. They 
 are historical poems, generally of the elegiac 
 kind ; and plainly discover themselves to be the 
 work of the same author. One consistent face 
 of manners is every where presented to us ; one 
 spirit of poetry reigns ; the masterly hand of 
 Ossian appears throughout ; the same rapid and 
 animated style ; the same strong colouring of 
 imagination, and the same glowing sensibility of 
 heart. Besides the unity which belongs to the 
 compositions of one man, there is moreover a 
 oertain unity of subject, which very happily con- 
 nects all these poems. They form the poetical 
 history of the age of Fingal. The same race of 
 heroes whom we had met with in the greater 
 poems, Cuthullin, Oscar, Connal, and Gaul, re- 
 turn again upon the stage ; and Fingal himself 
 is always the principal figure, presented OR every 
 occasion, with equal magnificence, nay rising 
 upon us to the last. The circumstances of Os- 
 sian's old age and blindness, his surviving all his 
 friends, and his relating their great exploits to 
 Malvina, the spouse or mistress of his beloved 
 son Oscar, furnish the finest poetiqal situations 
 4
 
 176 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 that fancy could devise for that tender pathetic 
 which reigns in Ossian's poetry. 
 
 On each of these poems, there might be room 
 for separate observations, with regard to the con- 
 duct and disposition of the incidents, as well as 
 to the beauty of the descriptions and sentiments. 
 Carthon is a regular and highly finished piece. 
 The main story is very properly introduced by 
 CIcssammor's relation of the adventure of his 
 youth ; and this introduction is finely heighten- 
 ed by Fingal's song of mourning over Moina ; in 
 which Ossian, ever fond of doing honour to his 
 father, has contrived to distinguish him, for be- 
 ing an eminent poet, as well as warrior. Fin- 
 gal's song upon this occasion, when " his thou- 
 " sand bards leaned forward from their seats, to 
 " hear the voice of the king," is inferior to no 
 passage in the whole book ; and with great 
 judgment put in his mouth, as the seriousness, 
 no less than the sublimity of the strain, is pecu- 
 liarly suited to the hero's character. In Dar- 
 thula, are assembled almost all the tender ima- 
 ges tliatcan touch the heart of man ; friendship, 
 love, the affections of parents, sons, and brothers, 
 the distress of the aged, and the unavailing bra- 
 very of the young. The beautiful address to 
 5
 
 TJlE POEMS OF OS9IAX. 1/7 
 
 liie moon, with which the poem opens, and the 
 transition from thence to the subject, most hap- 
 pily prepare the mind for that train of affecting 
 events that is to follow. The story is regular, 
 dramatic, interesting to the last. He who can 
 read it without emotion may congratulate him- 
 self, if he pleases, upon being completely armed 
 against sympathetic sorrow. As Fingal had no 
 occasion of appearing in the action of this poem. 
 Ossian makes a very artful transition from his 
 narration, to what was passing in the halls of 
 Selma. The sound heard there on the strings of 
 his harp, the concern which Fingal shews on 
 hearing it, and theinvocation of the ghosts of their 
 fathers, to receive the heroes falling in a distant 
 land, arc introduced with great beauty of imagi- 
 nation to increase the solemnity, and to diversify 
 the scenery of the poem. 
 
 Carric-thura is full of the most sublime digni- 
 ty ; and has this advantage of being more cheer- 
 ful in the subject, and more happy in the catas- 
 trophe than most of the other poems : Though 
 tempered at the same time with episodes in that 
 strain of tender melancholy, which seems to have 
 been the great delight of Ossian and the bards 
 of his age. Lathmon is peculiarly distinguished, 
 
 VOL. i. M
 
 1/8 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 by high generosity of sentiment. This is carried 
 so far, particularly in the refusal of Gaul, on 
 one side, to take the advantage of a sleeping foe ; 
 and of Lathmon, on the other, to overpower by 
 numbers the two young warriors, as to recal in- 
 to one's mind the manners of chivalry ; some re- 
 semblance to which may perhaps be suggested 
 by other incidents in this collection of poems. 
 Chivalry, however, took rise in an age and coun- 
 try too remote from -those of Ossian, to admit 
 the suspicion that the one could have borrowed 
 any thing from the other. So far as chivalry 
 had any real existence, the same military enthu- 
 siasm, which gave birth to it in the feudal times, 
 might, in the days of Ossian, that is, in the in- 
 fancy of a rising state, through the operation of 
 the same cause, very naturally produce effects 
 of the same kind on the minds and manners of 
 men. So far as chivalry was an ideal system ex- 
 isting only in romance, it will not be thought 
 surprising, when we reflect on the account be- 
 fore given of the Celtic bards, that this imaginary 
 refinement of heroic manners should be found 
 among them, as much, at least, -as among the 
 Trobadores, or strolling Provciifal Bards, in the 
 10th or llth century; whose songs, it is said,
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. !/<} 
 
 first gave rise to those romantic ideas of heroism, 
 which for so long a time enchanted Europe *. 
 -Ossian's heroes have all the gallantry and gene- 
 rosity of those fabulous knights, without their 
 ^extravagance ; and his love scenes have native 
 tenderness, without any mixture of those forced 
 and unnatural conceits which abound in the old 
 romances. The adventures related by oar poet 
 which resemble the most those of romance, con- 
 cern women who follow their lovers to war dis- 
 guised in the armour of men ; and these are so 
 managed as to produce, in the discovery, seve- 
 ral of the most interesting situations ; one beau- 
 tiful instance of which may be seen in Carric- 
 thura, and another in Calthon and Colmal. 
 
 Oithona presents a situation of a different na- 
 ture. In the absence of her lover Gaul, she had 
 been carried off and ravished by Dunrommath. 
 Gaul discovers the place where she is kept con- 
 cealed, and comes to revenge her. The meeting 
 of the two lovers, the sentiments and the behaviour 
 of Oithona on that occasion, are described with 
 such tender and exquisite propriety, as does the 
 greatest honour both to the art and to the delicacy 
 
 * Vid. Huelius de origine fabularum Romanensium.
 
 ISO A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 of our author : and would have been admireu 
 in any poet of the most refined age. The con- 
 duct of Croma must strike every reader as re- 
 markably judicious and beautiful. We are to 
 be prepared for the death of Malvina, which i> 
 related in the succeeding poem. She is there- 
 lore introduced in person; " she has heard a 
 " voice in a dream ; she feels the fluttering ot 
 " her soul ;" and in a most moving lamentation 
 addressed to her beloved Oscar, she sings her 
 own death song. Nothing could be calculated 
 with more art to sooth and comfort her, than 
 the story which Ossian relates. In the young 
 and brave Fovargormo, another Oscar is intro- 
 duced ; his praises are sung ; and the happiness 
 is set before her of those who die in their youth, 
 " when their renown is around them ; before the 
 " feeble behold them in the hall, and smile at 
 ' their trembling hands." 
 
 But no where does Ossian's genius appear tr> 
 greater advantage, than in Berrathon, which is 
 reckoned the conclusion of his songs, " The last* 
 " sound of the voice of Cona." 
 
 Quails olor noto positurus littore vitatu, 
 Inrzemtt, et nr.rstis uiulcens conceutibus aura; 
 Prci'sagu quaeritur vcnieutia jfuucra cautu.
 
 'ilIE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 181 
 
 The whole train of ideas is admirably suited 
 to the subject. Every thing is full of that invi- 
 sible world, into which the aged bard believes 
 himself now ready to enter. The airy hall of 
 Fingal presents itself to his view ; " he sees the 
 " cloud that shall receive his ghost ; he beholds 
 " the mist that shall form his robe when he ap- 
 " pears on his hill ;" and all the natural objects 
 .around him seem to carry the presages of death. 
 " The thistle shakes its beard to the wind. The 
 " flower hangs its heavy head ; it seems to say, 
 " I am covered with the drops of heaven ; the 
 " time of my departure is near, and the blast 
 " that shall scatter my leaves." Malvina's 
 death is hinted to him in the most delicate man- 
 ner by the son of Alpin. His lamentation over 
 her, her apotheosis, or ascent to the habitation 
 of heroes, and the introduction to the story 
 which follows from the mention which Ossian 
 supposes the father of Malvina to make of him in 
 the hall of Fingal, are all in the highest spirit of 
 poetry. " And dost thou remember Ossian, O 
 " Toscar son of Comloch ? The battles of our 
 " youth were many ; our swords went together 
 " to the field." Nothing could be more proper 
 than to end his songs with recording an exploit
 
 'IS'2 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 of the father of that Malvina, of whom his heart 
 was now so full ; a. d \vho, from first to last, 
 had been such a favourite object throughout all 
 his poems. 
 
 The scene of most of Ossian's poems is laid in 
 Scotland, or in the coast of Ireland opposite to 
 the territories of Fingal. When the scene is in 
 Ireland, we perceive no change of manners from 
 those of Ossian's native country. For as Ireland 
 was undoubtedly peopled with Celtic tribes, the 
 language, customs, and religion of both nations 
 were the same. They had been separated from 
 one another by migration, only a few generations, 
 as it should seem, before our poet's age; and 
 they still maintained a close and frequent nter- 
 course. But when the poet relates the expedi- 
 tions of any of his heroes to the Scandinavian 
 coa?t, or to the islands of Orkney, which were 
 then part of the Scandinavian territory, as he 
 does in Carric-thura, Sulmalla of Lumon, and 
 Cathloda, the case is quite altered. Those coun- 
 tries were inhabited by nations of the Teutonic 
 descent, who in their manners and religious rites 
 differed widely from the Celt;r; and it is curious 
 and remarkable, to find this difference clearly 
 pointed out in the poems of Ossian. His de-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 183 
 
 scriptions bear the native marks of one who was 
 present in the expeditions which he relates, and 
 who describes what he had seen with his own 
 eyes. No sooner are we carried to Lochlin, or 
 the islands of Imstorc, than we perceive that we 
 are in a foreign region. New objects begin to 
 appear. We meet every where with the stones 
 and circles of Loda, that is, Odin, the Scandina- 
 vian deity. We meet with the divinations and 
 inchantments, for which it is well known those 
 northern nations were early famous. " There, 
 " mixed with the murmur of waters, rose the 
 " voice of aged men, who called the forms of 
 " night to aid them in their war ;" whilst the 
 Caledonian chiefs who a-sisted them, are descri- 
 lx-d as standing at a distance, heedless of their 
 ritos. That ferocity of manners which distin- 
 guished those nations, also becomes conspicuous. 
 In the combats of their chiefs there is a peculiar 
 savagencss ; even their women are bloody and 
 fierce. The spirit, and the very ideas of Regner 
 Lodbrog, that northern Scalder whom I former- 
 merly quoted, occur to us again. " The hawks," 
 Ossian makes one of the Scandinavian chiefs say, 
 " rush from all their winds ; they are wont to 
 " trace my course. We rejoiced three days a-
 
 iS-i A CRITICAL DISSERTATION O^ 
 
 " bove the dead, and called the hawks of hea- 
 '' ven. They came from all their winds, to feast 
 " on the foes of Annir." 
 
 Dismissing now the separate consideration of 
 any of our author's works, I proceed to make 
 some observations on his manner of writing, un- 
 der the general heads of Description, Imagery, 
 and Sentiment. 
 
 A poet of original genius is always distinguish- 
 ed by his talent for description *.' A second- 
 rate writer discerns nothing new or peculiar in 
 the object he means to describe. His concep- 
 tions of it are vague and loose ; his expressions 
 feeble ; and of course the object is presented to 
 us indistinctly and as through a cloud. But a 
 true poet makes us imagine that we see it before 
 our eyes : he catches the distinguishing features ; 
 he gives it the colours of life and reality ; he 
 places it in such a light that a painter could co- 
 py after him. This happy talent is chiefly owing 
 to a lively imagination, which first receives a 
 strong impression of the object ; and then, by a 
 proper selection of capital picturesque circum- 
 
 * See the rules of poetical description excellently il- 
 lustrated by Lord Kaiins, in his Elements of Criticism, 
 vol. iii. chap. 21. Of narration and description.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 18.5 
 
 stances employed in describing it, transmits that 
 impression in its full force to the imaginations of 
 others. That Ossian possesses this descriptive 
 power in a high degree, wt have a clear proof 
 from the effect which his descriptions produce 
 upon the imaginations of those who read him 
 with any degree of attention and taste. Fev,- 
 poets are more interesting. We contract an in- 
 timate acquaintance with his principal heroes. 
 The characters, the manners, the face of the 
 country become familiar : we even think -we 
 could draw the figure of his ghosts : in a word, 
 whilst reading him we are transported as into a 
 new region, and dwell among his objects as if 
 they were all real. 
 
 It were easy to point out several instances of 
 exquisite painting in the works of our author. 
 Such, for instance, as the scenery with which Te- 
 nora opens, and the attitude in which Cairbar is 
 There presented to us ; the description of the 
 joung prince Cormac, in the same book ; and the 
 nins of Balclutha in Carthon. " I have seen 
 "the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. 
 "The fire had resounded in the halls ; and the 
 "voice of the people is heard no more. The 
 ' trcam of Clutha was removed from its place
 
 1'8<5 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook there 
 " its lonely head : The moss whistled to the wind. 
 " The fox looked out from the windows ; the 
 " rank grass of the nvall waved round his head. 
 " Desolate is the dwelling of Moina ; silence is 
 " in the house of her fathers.". Nothing, also, 
 can be more natural and lively, than the manner 
 in which Carthon afterwards describes how the 
 conflagration of his city affected him when a 
 child: " Have I not seen the fallen Balclutha ? 
 " And shall I feast with Combat's son ? Com- 
 " hal ! who threw his fire in the midst of my fa- 
 '' ther's hall ! I was young, and knew not the 
 " cause why the virgins wept. The columns of 
 " smoke pleased mine eye, when they rose above. 
 " my walls : I often looked back with gladness, 
 " when my friends fled above the hill. But wher 
 " the years of my youth came on, I beheld tin 
 " moss of my fallen walls. My sigh arose witi 
 "the morning; and my tears descended will 
 " night. Shall I not fight, I said to my sou, 
 " against the children of my foes ? And I wll 
 " fight, O bard ! I feel the strength of my soul" 
 In the same poem, the assembling of the chiefs 
 round Fingal, who had been warned of some rn- 
 pcnding danger by the appearance of a prodgy,
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. ISf 
 
 is described with so many picturesque circum- 
 stances, that one imagines himself present in the 
 assembly. " The king alone beheld the terrible 
 " si^ht, and he foresaw the death of his people. 
 " He came in silence to his hall, and took his 
 " father's spear.; the mail rattled on his breast. 
 " The her >es rose around. They looked, in si- 
 " leuce, on each other, marking the eyes of Fin- 
 " gal. They saw the battle in his face. A thou- 
 " sand shields are placed at once on their arms; 
 " and they drew a thousand swords. The hall 
 " oi Selma brightened around. The clang of 
 " arms ascends. The grey dogs howl in their 
 " place. No word is among the mighty chiefs. 
 " Each marked the eyes of the king ; and half 
 " assumed his spear." 
 
 It has been objected to Ossian, that his de- 
 scriptions of military actions are imperfect, and 
 much less diversified by circumstances than those 
 of Homer. This is in some measure true. The 
 amazing fertility of Homer's invention is no where 
 so much displayed as in the incidents of his bat- 
 tles, and in the liltle history pieces he gives of 
 the persons slain. Nor indeed, with regard to 
 the talent of description, can too much be said 
 in praise of Homer. Every thing is alive in his
 
 i8S A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 writings. The colours with which he paints are 
 those of nature. But Ossian's genius w r as of a 
 different kind from Homer's. It led him to hur- 
 ry towards grand objects, rather than tO ( amuse 
 himself with particulars of less importance. He 
 could dwell on the death of a favourite hero ; 
 but that of a private man seldom stopped his ra- 
 pid course. Homer's genius was more compre- 
 hensive than Ossian's. It included a wider circle 
 of objects ; and could work up any incident into 
 description. Ossian's was more limited ; but the 
 region within which it chiefly exerted itself was 
 the highest of all, the region of the pathetic and 
 sublime. 
 
 We mast not imagine, however, that Ossian's 
 battles consist only of general indistinct descrip- 
 tion. Such beautiful incidents are sometimes in- 
 troduced, and the circumstances of the persons 
 slain so much diversified, as show that he could 
 have embellished his military scenes with an 
 abundant variety of particulars, if his genius had 
 led him to dwell upon them. " One man is 
 " stretched in the dust of his native land ; he 
 " fell, where often he had spread the feast, and 
 " often raised the voice of the harp." The maid 
 of Inistore is introduced, in a moving apostrophe,
 
 THE I'OEMS OF O3SIA^ r . 18</ 
 
 as weeping for another; and a third, " as rolled 
 " in the dust he lilted his faint eyes to the king," 
 is remembered and mourned by Fingal as the 
 friend of Agandccca. The blood pouring from 
 the wound of one who is slain by night, is heard 
 " hissing on the half-extinguished oak/' which 
 had been kindled for giving light : Another, 
 climbing a tree to escape from his foe, is pierced 
 by his spear from behind ; "shrieking, panting, 
 "he fell; whilst moss and withered branches 
 " pursue his fall, and strew the blue arms of 
 "'Gaul." Never was a finer picture drawn of 
 ihe ardour of two youthful warriors than the fol- 
 lowing : " I saw Gaul in his armour, and my 
 " soQl was mixed with his : for the lire of the 
 " battle was in his eyes : he looked to the foe 
 ' with joy. We spoke the words of friendship in 
 " secret; and the lightning of our swords pour- 
 " ed together. We drew them behind the wood, 
 " and tried the strength of our arms on the emp- 
 " ty air." 
 
 Ossian is always concise in his descriptions, 
 which adds much to their beauty and force. For 
 it is a great mistake to imagine, that a crowd of 
 particulars, or a very full and extended style, is 
 of advantage to description. On the contrary,
 
 J^Q A CKITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 such a diffuse manner for the most part weaken* 
 it. Any one redundant circumstance is a nui- 
 sance. It encumbers and loads the fancy, and 
 renders the mam image indistinct. " Obstat," 
 as Quintilian says with regard to style, " qtiic- 
 " quid non adjuvat." To be concise in descrip- 
 tion, is one thing ; and to be general, is another. 
 No description that rests in generals can possibly 
 be good ; it can convey no lively idea ; for it is 
 of particulars only that we have a distinct con- 
 ception. But, at the same time, no strong ima- 
 gination dwells long upon one particular ; or 
 heaps together a mass of trivial ones. By the 
 happy choice of some one, or of a few that are 
 the most striking, it presents the image rnore 
 complete, shows us more at one glance, than a 
 feeble imagination is able to do, by turning its 
 
 / 
 
 object round and round into a variety of lights. 
 Tacitus is of all prose writers the most concise. 
 He has even a degree of abruptness resembling 
 our author : Yet no writer is more eminent for 
 lively description. When Fingal, after having 
 conquered the haughty Swaran, proposes to dis- 
 miss him with honour : " Raise to-morrow thy 
 " white sails to the wind, thou brother of Agan- 
 " decca \" He conveys, by thus addressing his
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 1^1 
 
 enemy, a stronger impression of the emotions 
 then passing within his mind, than if whole pa- 
 ragraphs had been spent in describing the conflict 
 between resentment against Swaran, and the ten- 
 der remembrance of his ancient love. No am- 
 plification is needed to give us the most full idea 
 of a hardy veteran, after the few following words : 
 " His shield is marked with the strokes of battle; 
 " his red eyes despise danger." When Oscar, 
 left alone, was surrounded by foes, " he stood," 
 it is said, " growing in his place, like the flood 
 " of the narrow vale ;" a happy representation of 
 one, who, by daring intrepidity in the midst of 
 danger, seems to increase in his appearance, and 
 becomes more formidable every moment, like the 
 sudden rising of the torrent hemmed in by the 
 valley. And a whole crowd of ideas, concerning 
 the circumstances of domestic sorrow, occasion- 
 ed by a young warrior's first going forth to battle, 
 is poured upon the mind by these words : " Cal- 
 " mar leaned on his father's spear ; that spear 
 " which he brought from Lara's hall, when the 
 " soul of his mother was sad." 
 
 The conciseness of Ossian's descriptions is the 
 more proper on account of his subjects. De- 
 scriptions of gay and smiling scenes may, with-
 
 ]$2 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 out any disadvantage, be amplified and prolong 
 ed. Force is not the predominant quality ex- 
 pected in these. The description may be weak- 
 ened by being diffuse, yet, notwithstanding, may 
 be beautiful still. Whereas, with respect to 
 grand, solemn, and pathetic subjects, which arc 
 Ossian's chief field, the case is very different. In 
 these, energy is above all things required. The 
 imagination must be seized at once, or not at 
 all ; and is far more deeply impressed by one 
 strong and ardent image, than by the anxious 
 minuteness of laboured illustration. 
 
 But Ossian's genius, though chiefly turned to- 
 wards the sublime and pathetic, was not confined 
 to it : In subjects, also, of grace and delicacy, 
 he discovers the hand of a master. Take, for an 
 example, the following elegant description of 
 Agandecca, wherein the tenderness of Tibullus 
 seems united with the majesty of Virgil. " The 
 *' daughter of the snow overheard, and left the 
 " hall of her secret sigh. She came in all her 
 " beauty ; like the moon from the cloud of the 
 " east. Loveliness was around her as light. Her 
 " steps were like the music of songs. She saw 
 " the youth, and loved him. He was the stolen 
 '*' sigh of her soul. Her blue eyes rolled on him
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIA^. 13 
 
 " in secret : And she blest the chief of Morven." 
 Several other instances might be produced of the 
 feelings of love and friendship, painted by our 
 author with a most natural and happy delicacy. 
 
 The simplicity of Ossian's manner adds great 
 beauty to his descriptions, and indeed to his whole 
 poetry. We meet with no affected ornaments; no 
 forced refinement ; no marks, either in style or 
 thought, of a studied endeavour to shine and 
 sparkle. Ossian appears every where to be promp- 
 ted by his feelings ; and to speak from the abun- 
 dance of his heart. I remember no more than 
 one instance of what can be called quaint thought 
 in this whole collection of his works. It is in the 
 first book of fingal, where, from the tombs of 
 two lovers, two lonely yews are mentioned to 
 have sprung, " whose branches wished to meet 
 " on high." This sympathy of the trees with the 
 lovers, may be reckoned to border on an Italian 
 conceit ; and it is somewhat curious to find this 
 single instance of that sort of wit in our Celtic 
 poetry. 
 
 The "joy of grief," is one of Ossian's remark- 
 able expressions, several times repeated. If any 
 one shall think, that it needs to be justified by a 
 precedent, he may find it twice used by Homer ; 
 
 VOL. i. N
 
 19-t A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 in the Iliad, when Achilles is visited by the ghost' 
 of Patroclus ; and in the Odyssey, when Ulysses 
 meets his mother in the shades. On both these 
 occasions, the heroes, melted with tenderness, la- 
 ment their not having it in their power to throw 
 their arms round the ghost, " that we might," say 
 they, " in a mutual embrace, enjoy the delight 
 " of grief." 
 
 "Bui, in truth, the expression stands in need of 
 no defence from authority ; for it is a natural 
 and just expression ; and conveys a clear idea of 
 that gratification, which a virtuous heart often 
 feels in the indulgence of a tender melancholy. 
 Ossian makes a very proper distinction between 
 this gratification, and the destructive effect of 
 overpowering grief. " There is a joy in grief, 
 " when peace dwells in the breasts of the sad. 
 " But soi row wastes the mournful, O daughter 
 " of Toscar, and their clays are few." To " give 
 " the joy of grief," generally signifies to raise the 
 strain of soft and grave music ; and finely cha- 
 racterises the taste of Ossian's' age and country. 
 
 * Odyssey, is. 211. Iliad, x.\iii 98.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 19^ 
 
 In those days, when the songs of bards were the 
 great delight of heroes, the tragic muse was held 
 in chief honour ; gallant actions, and virtuous 
 sufferings, were -the chosen theme; preferably to 
 that light and trifling strain of poetry and music, 
 which promotes light and trifling manners, and 
 serves to emasculate the mind. " Strike the harp 
 " in my hall," said the great Fingal, in the midst 
 of youth and victory, " Strike the harp in my 
 " hall, and let Fingal hear the song. Pleasant 
 " is the joy of grief! It is like the shower of 
 " spring, when it softens the branch of the oak ; 
 " and the young leaf lifts its green head. Sing 
 ' on, O bards ! To-morrow we lift the sail." 
 
 Personal epithets have been much used by all 
 the poets of the most ancient ages, and when well 
 chosen, not general and unmeaning, they contri- 
 bute not a little to render the style descriptive and 
 animated. Besides epithets founded on bodily 
 distinctions, a-kin to many of Homer's, we find 
 in Ossian several which arc remarkably beauti- 
 ful and poetical. Such as, Oscar of the future 
 rights, Fingal of the mildest look, Carril of other 
 times, the mildly blushing Evirallin ; Bragela, 
 the lonely sun-beam of Dunscaich ; a Culdce, 
 .the son of the secret cell.
 
 l A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 But of all the ornaments employed in descrip- 
 tive poetry, comparisons, or similes, are the most 
 splendid. These chiefly form what is called the 
 imagery of a poem : And as they abound so 
 much in the works of Ossian, and are commonly 
 umong the favourite passages of all poets, it may 
 be expected that I should be somewhat ^particu- 
 lar in my remarks upon them. 
 
 A poetical simile always supposes two objects 
 brought together, between which there is some- 
 near relation, or connection, in the fancy. What 
 that relation ought to be, cannot be precisely de- 
 nned. For various, almost numberless, are the 
 analogies formed among objects, by a sprightly 
 imagination. The relation of actual similitude, 
 or likeness of appearance, is far from being the 
 only foundation of poetical comparison. Some- 
 times a resemblance, in the effect produced by 
 two objects, is made the connecting principle : 
 Sometimes a resemblance in one distinguishing 
 property or circumstance. Very often two ob- 
 jects are brought together in a simile, though 
 they resemble one another, strictly speaking, in 
 nothing, only because they raise in the mind a 
 train of similar, and what may be called, concor- 
 dant ideas ; so that the remembrance of the one,
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 1^7 
 
 viien recalled, serves to quicken and heighten 
 the impression made by the other. Thus, to give 
 an instance from our poet, the pleasure with 
 which an old man looks back on the exploits of 
 his youth, has certainly no direct resemblance to 
 the beauty of a fine evening; farther than that 
 both agree in producing a certain calm, placid 
 joy. Yet Ossian has founded upon this, one of 
 the most beautiful comparisons that is to be met 
 with in any poet. " Wilt thou not listen, son of 
 " the rock, to the song of Ossian ? My soul is 
 " full of other times ; the joy of my youth re- 
 " turns. Thus the sun appears in the west, af- 
 " ter the steps of his brightness have moved be- 
 " hind a storm. The green hills lift their dewy 
 " heads. The blue streams rejoice in the vale. 
 " The aged hero comes forth on his staff; and 
 " his grey hair glitters in the beam/' Never was 
 there a finer group of objects. It raises a strong 
 conception of the old man's joy and elation of 
 heart, by displaying a scene, which produces, in 
 very spectator, a corresponding train of plea- 
 sing emotions ; the declining sun looking forth 
 in his brightness after a storm; the cheerful face 
 of all nature ; and the still life, finely animated 
 by the circumstance of the aged hero, with his..
 
 19& A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 staff and his grey locks; a circumstance both ex- 
 tremely picturesque in itself, and peculiarly suit- 
 ed to the main object of the comparison. Such 
 analogies and associations of ideas as these, arc 
 highly pleasing to the fancy. They give oppor- 
 tunity for introducing many a fine poetical pic- 
 ture. They diversify the scene ; they aggrandize 
 the subject ; they keep the imagination awaka 
 and sprightly. .For as the judgment is principal- 
 ly exercised in distinguishing objects, and re- 
 marking the differences among those which seem 
 like; so the highest amusement of the imagina- 
 tion is to trace likenesses and agreements among 
 those which seem different. 
 
 The principal rules which respect poetical com- 
 parisons are, that they be introduced on pro- 
 per occasions, when the mind is disposed to re- 
 lish them ; and not in the midst of some severe 
 and agitating passion, which cannot admit this 
 play o^fancy ; that they be founded on a resem- 
 blance neither too near and obvious, so as to cive 
 
 7 O 
 
 little amusement to the imagination in tracing it, 
 nor too faint and remote, so as to be apprehend- 
 ed with difficulty ; that they serve either to il- 
 lustrate the principal object, and to render the 
 conception of it more cle:xr and distinct : ot, at
 
 THE POEMS OP'OSSIA5T. 199 
 
 least, to heighten and embellish it, by a suitable 
 association of images *. 
 
 Every country has a scenery peculiar to it- 
 self; and the imagery of a good poet will exhibit 
 it. For as he copies after nature, his allusions 
 will of course be taken from those objects which 
 he sees around him, and which have often struck 
 his fancy. For this reason, in order to judge of 
 the propriety of poetical imagery, we ought to 
 be, in some measure, acquainted with the natu- 
 ral history of the country where the scene of the 
 poem is laid. The introduction of foreign images 
 betrays a poet, copying not from nature, but 
 from other writers. ' Hence so many lions, and 
 tygers, and eagles, and serpents, which we meet 
 with in the similes of modern poets ; as if these 
 animals had acquired some right to a place in 
 poetical comparisons for ever, because employed 
 by ancient authors. They employed them with 
 propriety, as objects generally known in their 
 country ; but they are absurdly used for illustra- 
 tion by us, who know them only at second hand, 
 or by description. To most readers of modern 
 poetry, it were more to the purpose to describe 
 
 * Sec Elements of Criticism, ch. 39, \ A. III.
 
 200 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OK 
 
 lions or tygers, by similes taken from men, than 
 to compare men to lions. Ossian is very correct 
 in this particular. His imagery is, without ex- 
 ception, copied from that face of nature, which 
 he saw before his eyes ; and by consequence may 
 be expected to be lively. We meet with no Gre- 
 cian or Italian scenery ; but with the mists, and 
 clouds, and storms, of a northern mountainous 
 region. 
 
 No poet abounds more in similes than Ossian. 
 There are in this collection as many, at least, as 
 in the whole Iliad and Odyssey of Homer. I am 
 indeed inclined to think, that the works of both 
 poets are too much crowded with them. Similes 
 are sparkling ornaments; and, like all things 
 that sparkle, arc apt to dazzle and tire us by 
 their lustre. But if Ossiau's similes be too fre- 
 quent, they have this advantage, of being com- 
 monly shorter than Homer's ; they interrupt his 
 narration less ; he just glances aside to some re- 
 sembling object, and instantly returns to his for- 
 mer track. Homer's similes include a wider 
 range of objects. But in return, Ossian's are, 
 without exception, taken from objects of dignity, 
 which cannot be said for all those which Homer 
 employs. The sun, the moon, and the stars.,
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 201 
 
 clouds and meteors, lightning and thumler, seas 
 and whales, rivers, torrents, winds, ice, min, 
 sno\\, dews, mist, fire, and smoke, trees and fo- 
 rests, heath and grass and flowers, rocks and 
 mountains, music and songs, light and darkness, 
 spirits and ghosts ; these form the circle, within 
 which Ossian's comparisons generally run. Some, 
 not many, are taken from birds and beasts ; as 
 eagles, sea-fowl, the horse, the deer, and the 
 mountain-bee ; and a very few from such opera- 
 tions of art as were then known. Homer has 
 diversified his imagery by many more allusions to 
 the animal world ; to lions, bulls, goats, herds 
 of cattle, serpents, insects ; and to the various 
 occupations of rural and pastoral life. Ossian's 
 defect in this article, is plainly owing to the de- 
 sert, uncultivated state of his country, which 
 suggested to him few images beyond natural in- 
 animate objects, in their rudest form. The birds 
 and animals of the country were probably not 
 numerous ; and his acquaintance with them was 
 slender, as they were little subjected to the uses 
 of man. 
 
 The great objection made to Ossian's imagery, 
 s its uniformity, and the too frequent repetition 
 <f the same comparisons. In a work so thick
 
 202 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 sown with similes, one could not but expect ti> 
 find images of the same kind sometimes suggest- 
 ed to the poet by resembling objects ; especial- 
 ly to a poet like Ossian, who wrote from the im- 
 mediate impulse of poetical enthusiasm, and 
 without much preparation of study or labour. 
 Fertile as Homer's imagination is acknowledged 
 to be, who does not know how often his lions 
 and bulls and flocks of sheep, recur with little 
 or no variation : nay, sometimes in the very 
 same words ? The objection made to Ossian is, 
 however, founded, in a- great measure, upon a 
 mistake. It has been supposed, by inattentive 
 readers, that wherever the moon, the cloud, or the 
 thunder, returns in a simile, it is the same simile, 
 and the s?ame moon, or cloud, or thunder, which 
 they had met with a few passages before. Whereas 
 very often the similes are widely different. The 
 object, whence they are taken, is indeed in sub- 
 stance the same; but the image is new ; for the 
 appearance of the object is changed ; it is pre- 
 sented to the fancy in another attitude ; and 
 clothed with new circumstances, to make it suit 
 the different illustrations for which it is employ- 
 ed. In this lies Ossian's great art; in so happ- 
 ly varying the form of the few natural appe.-r-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAJT. 203 
 
 ances with which he was acquainted, as to make 
 them correspond to a great many different ob- 
 jects. 
 
 Let us take for one instance the moon, which is 
 very frequently introduced into his comparisons ; 
 as in northern climates, where the nights are 
 long, the moon is a greater object of attention, 
 than in the climate of Homer ; and let us view 
 how much our poet has diversified its appear- 
 ance. The shield of a warrior is like " the clark- 
 " ened moon when it moves a dun circle through 
 " the heavens." The face of a ghost, wan and 
 pale, is like " the beam of the setting moon." 
 And a different appearance of a ghost, thin and 
 indistinct, is like " the new moon seen through 
 " the gathered mist, when the sky pours down 
 *" its flaky snow, and the world is silent and 
 " dark ;" or in a different form still, is like " the 
 " watery beam of the moon, when it rushes from 
 " between two clouds, and the mid-night shower 
 " is on the field." A very opposite use is made 
 of the moon in the description of Agandecca : 
 " She came in all her beauty, like the moon from 
 " the cloud of the East." Hope, succeeded by 
 disappointment, is " joy rising on her face, and 
 " sorrow returning again, like/ith;^ clou.'! on
 
 204 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 "" the moon." But when Swaran, after his de- 
 feat, is cheered by Fingal's generosity, " His 
 " face brightened like the full moon of heaven, 
 " when- the clouds vanish away, and leave her 
 " calm and broad in the midst of the sky." Vin- 
 vela is " bright as the moon \\hcn it trembles 
 " o'er the western wave ;" but the soul of the 
 guilty. Uthul is " dark as the troubled face of 
 " the moon, when it foretels the storm." And 
 by a very fanciful and uncommon allusion, it is 
 said of Cormac, who was to die in his early 
 yeavs, " Nor long shalt thou lift the spear, 
 " mildly shining beam of youth ! Death stands 
 *' dim behind thee, like the darkened half of the 
 " moon behind its growing light." 
 
 Another instance of the same nature may be 
 taken from mist, which, as being a very familiar 
 appearance in the country of Ossian, he applies 
 to a variety Of purposes, and pursues through a 
 great many forms. Sometimes, which one would 
 hardly expect, he employs it to heighten the ap- 
 pearance of a beautiful object. The hair of 
 Morna is " like the mist of Cromla, when it 
 " curls on the rock, and shines to the beam of 
 
 " the west." " The song comes with its mu- 
 
 " sic to melt and please the ear. It is like soft
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAV. 205 
 
 <e mist, that rising from a lake pours on the si- 
 " lent vale. The green flowers are filled with 
 " dew. The sun returns in its strength, and the 
 " mist is gone." * But, for the most part, mist 
 is employed as a similitude of some disagreeable 
 or terrible object. " The soul of Nathos was 
 " sad, like the sun in the day of mist, when his 
 " face is watery and dim." " The darkness of 
 " old age comes like the mist of the desert." 
 The face of a ghost is " pale as the mist of Crom- 
 " la." " The gloom, of battle is rolled along as 
 " mist that is poured on the valley, when storms 
 " invade the silent sun-shine of heaven." Fame 
 suddenly departing, is likened to " mist that flies 
 
 * There is a remarkable propriety in this comparison. 
 It is intended to explain the effect of soft and mournful 
 music. Armin appears disturbed at a performance of 
 this kind. Carmor says to him, " Why bursts the sigh 
 " of Armin ? Is there a cause to mourn ? The song comes 
 " with its music to melt and please the ear. It is like 
 " soft mist, &c." that is, such mournful songs have a hap- 
 py effect to soften the heart, and to improve it by tender 
 emotions, as the moisture of the mist refreshes and nour- 
 ishes the flowers ; whilst the sadness they occasion is on- 
 ly transient, and soon dispelled by the succeeding occu- 
 pations and amusements of life : " The sun returns in 
 " its strength, and the mist is gone."
 
 206 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 " away before the rustling wind of the vale." A 
 ghost, slowly vanishing, to " mht that melts by 
 " degrees on the sunny hill." Cairbar, after his 
 treacherous assassination of Oscar, is compared 
 to a pestilential fog. " I love a foe like Cath- 
 " mor," says Fingal, " his soul is great ; his arm 
 " is strong; his battles are full of fame. But 
 " the little soul is like a vapour that- hovers 
 " round the marshy lake. It never rises on the 
 "green hill, lest the winds meet it there. Its 
 ' dwelling is in the cave ; and it sends forth the 
 " dart of death." This is a simile highly finish- 
 ed. But there is another which is still more 
 striking, founded also on mist, in the 4th book 
 of Tcmora. Two factious chiefs are contending ; 
 Cathmor the king interposes, rebukes, and si- 
 lences them. The poet intends to give us the 
 highest idea of Cathmor's superiority ; and most 
 effectually accomplishes his intention by the fol- 
 lowing happy image. " They sunk from the 
 " king on either side ; like two columns of morn- 
 " ing mist, when the sun rises between them, on 
 f his glittering rocks. Dark is their rolling oil 
 " either side ; each towards its reedy pool." 
 These instances may sufficiently shew with what 
 richness of imagination Oseian's comparisons a-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 207 
 
 bound, and at the same time, with what proprie- 
 ty of judgment they are. employed. If his field 
 was narrow, it must be admitted to have been as 
 well cultivated as its extent would allow. 
 
 As it is usual to judge of poets from a compa- 
 rison oi their similes more than of other passages, 
 it will perhaps be agreeable to the reader, to see 
 how Homer and Ossian have conducted some 
 images of the same kind. This might be shewn 
 in many instances. For as the great objects of 
 nature are common to the poets of all nations, 
 and make the general store-house of all imagery, 
 the ground-work of their comparisons must of 
 course be frequently the same. I shall select 
 only a few of the most considerable from both 
 poets. Mr Pope's translation of Homer can be 
 of no use to us here. The parallel is altogether 
 unfair between prose, and the imposing harmony 
 of flowing numbers. It is only by viewing Ho- 
 mer in the simplicity of a prose translation, that 
 we can form any comparison between the two 
 bards. 
 
 The shock of two encountering armies, the 
 noise and the tumult of battle, afford one of the 
 most grand and awful subjects of description ; 
 ?n which all epic poets have exerted their
 
 908 
 
 strength. Let us first hear Homer. The fol- 
 lowing description is a favourite one, for we find 
 it twice repeated in the same words *. " When 
 " now the conflicting hosts joined in the field of 
 " battle, then were mutually opposed shields, 
 " and swords, and the strength of armed men. 
 " The bossy bucklers were dashed against each 
 " other. The universal tumult rose. Ther0 
 " were mingled the triumphant shouts and the 
 " dying groans of the victors and the vanquished. 
 " The earth streamed with blood. As when 
 " winter torrents, rushing from the mountains, 
 " pour into a narrow valley, their violent waters. 
 " They issue from a thousand springs, and mix 
 " in the hollowed channel. The distant shepherd 
 " hears on the mountain, their roar from afar. 
 " Such was the terror and the shout of the en- 
 " gaging armies." In another passage, the poet, 
 much in the manner of Ossian, heaps simile on 
 simile, to express the vastness of the idea, with 
 which his imagination seems to labour. " With 
 " a mighty shout the hosts engage. Not so 
 " loud roars the wave of ocean, when driven 
 " against the shore by the whole force of the 
 
 Iliad, iv. 446. and Iliad, viii. 60.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 20) 
 
 " boisterous north ; not so loud in the woods of 
 " the mountain, the noise of the flame, when ri- 
 " sing in its fury to consume the forest ; not so 
 " loud the wind among the lofty oaks, when the 
 " wrath of the storm rages; as was the clamour 
 " of the Greeks and Trojans, when, roaring ter- 
 " rible, they rushed against each other." * 
 
 To these descriptions and similes, we may op- 
 pose the following from Ossian, and leave the 
 reader to judge between them. He will find 
 images of the same kind employed ; commonly 
 less extended ; but thrown forth with a glowing 
 rapidity which characterises our poet. " As 
 " Autumn's dark storms pour from two echoing 
 " hills, towards each other, approached the he- 
 " roes. As two dark streams from high rocks 
 " meet and mix, and roar on the plain ; loud, 
 " rough, and dark in battle, meet Lochlin and 
 " Inisfail. Chief mixed his strokes with chief, 
 " and man with man. Steel clanging, sound- 
 " ed on steel. Helmets are cleft on high ; blood 
 " bursts and smokes around. As the troubled 
 " noise of the ocean, when roll the waves 
 " on high ; as the last peal of the thunder of 
 
 * Iliad, xiv. 398. 
 VOL. I. O
 
 'JIO A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " heaven, such is the noise of buttle." " As roll 
 " a thousand waves to the rock, so Swaran's host 
 " came on ; as meets a rock a thousand waves. 
 " so Inisfa.il met Swaran. Death raises all his 
 " voices around, and mixes with the sound of 
 " shields. 1 he field echoes from wing to wing, 
 " as a hundred hammers that rise by turns on the 
 " red son of the furnace." As a hundred winds 
 " on Morven ; as the streams of a hundred hills ; 
 " as clouds fly successive over heaven ; or as 
 " the dark ocean assaults the shore of the de- 
 " sert ; so roaring, so vast, so terrible, the armies 
 " mixed on Lena's echoing heath." In several 
 of these images, there is a remarkable similarity 
 to Homer's; but what follows is superior to any 
 comparison that Homer uses on this subject. 
 " The groan of the people spread over the hills ; 
 " it was like the thunder of night, when the 
 " cloud bursts on Cona ; and a thousand ghosts 
 " shriek at once on the hollow wind." Never 
 was an image of more awful sublimity employed 
 to heighten the terror of battle. 
 
 Both poets compare the appearance of an ar- 
 my approaching, to the gathering of dark clouds. 
 " As when a shepherd," says Homer, " beholds 
 ' : from the rock a cloud borne along the sea bv
 
 TB1IE POKM3 QY OSSIAX. 211 
 
 " the western wind ; black as pitch it appears 
 " from afar sailing over the ocean, and carrying 
 " the dreadful storm. He shrinks at the sight, 
 " and drives his flock into the cave : Such, 
 " under the Ajaccs, moved on, the dark, the 
 
 " thickened phalanx to the war." " They 
 
 " came," says Ossian, '' over the desert like 
 '* stormy clouds, Avhen the winds roll them 
 " over the heath ; their edges are tinged with 
 " lightning ; and the echoing groves foresee the 
 " storm." The edges of the cloud tinged with 
 lightning, is a sublime idea ; but the shepherd 
 and his flock, render Homer's simile more pictu- 
 resque. This is frequently the difference between 
 the two poets. Ossian gives no more than the 
 main image, strong and full : Homer adds cir- 
 cumstances and appendages, which amuse the 
 fancy by enlivening the scenery. 
 
 Home-.- compares the regular appearance of an 
 army, to " clouds that are settled on the moun- 
 " tain top, in the day of calmness, when the 
 " strength of the north wind sleeps/' * Ossian, 
 with full as much propriety, compares the ap- 
 pearance of a disordered army, to "' the moun-
 
 '21:2 A CKITICAL DISSERTATION ow 
 
 " tain cloud, when the blast hath entered its 
 " womb ; and scatters the curling gloom on eve- 
 " ry side/' Ossian's clouds assume a great many 
 forms ; and, as we might expect from his climate, 
 are a fertile source of imagery to him. " The 
 "' warriors followed their chiefs, like the gather- 
 " ing of the rainy clouds, behind the red meteors 
 ." of heaven." An army retreating without co- 
 ming to action, is likened to " clouds, that ha- 
 " ving long threatened rain, retire slowly behind 
 " the hills." The picture of Oithona, after she 
 had determined to die, is lively and delicate. 
 " Her soul was resolved, and the tear was dried 
 " from her wildly-looking eye. A troubled joy 
 " rose on her mind, like the red path of the 
 " lightning on a stormy cloud." The image al- 
 so of the gloomy Cairbar, meditating, in silence, 
 the assassination of Oscar, until the moment 
 came when his designs were ripe for execution, 
 is extremely noble, and complete in all its parts. 
 " Cairbar heard their words in silence, like the 
 " cloud of a shower; it stands dark on Cromla, 
 " till the lightning bursts its side. The valley 
 " gleams with red light ; the spirits of the storm 
 " rejoice. So stood the silent king of Temora ; 
 " at length his words are heard."
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 213 
 
 Homer's comparison of Achilles to the Dog 
 Star, is very sublime. " Priam beheld him rush- 
 " ing along the plain, shining in his armour, 
 " like the star of autumn : bright are its beams, 
 " distinguished amidst the multitude of stars in 
 " the dark hour of night. It rises in its splen- 
 *' dour ; but its splendour is fatal ; betokening 
 " to miserable men, the destroying heat *." The 
 first appearance of Fingal, is, in like manner, 
 compared by Ossian, to a star or meteor. u Fin- 
 " gal, tall in his ship, stretched his bright lance 
 " before him. Terrible was the gleam of his 
 " steel ; it was like the green meteor of death, 
 " setting in the heath of Malmor, when the tra- 
 " veller is alone, and the broad moon is darken- 
 " ed in heaven." The hero's-appearance in Ho- 
 mer, is more magnificent ; in Ossian, more ter- 
 rible. 
 
 A tree cut down, or overthrown by a storm, 
 is a similitude frequent among poets for descri- 
 bing the fall of a warrior in battle. Homer em- 
 ploys it often. But the most beautiful, by far, 
 of his comparisons, founded on this object, in- 
 deed one of the most beautiful in the whole Iliad, 
 
 * Iliad, xxii. 26.
 
 $214 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 is that on the death of Euphorbus : " As the 
 " young and verdant olive, which a man hath 
 " reared with care in a lonely field, where the 
 " springs of water bubble around it ; it is fair 
 " and flourishing ; it is fanned by the breath of 
 " all the winds, and loaded with white blossoms ; 
 " when the sudden blast of a whirlwind desccnd- 
 " ing, roots it out from its bed, and stretches it 
 " on the dust *." To this, elegant as it is, we 
 may oppose the following simile of Cssian's, re- 
 lating the death of the three sons of Uinoth. 
 " They fell, like three young oaks which stood 
 " alone on the hill. The traveller saw the love- 
 " ly trees, and wondered how they grew so lone- 
 " ly. The blast of the desert came by night, 
 " and laid their green heads low. Next day he 
 " returned ; but they were withered, and the 
 " heath was bare/' Malvina's allusion to the 
 same object, in her lamentation over Oscar, is 
 so exquisitely tender, that I cannot forbear gi- 
 ving it a place also. " I was a lovely tree in 
 " thy presence, Oscar ! with all my branches 
 " round me. But thy death came, like a blast 
 " from the desert, and laid my green head low. 
 
 * Iliad, xvii. 53.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 21J 
 
 "' The spring returned with its showers; but no 
 *' leaf of mine arose." Several of Ossian's simi- 
 les taken from trees, are remarkably beautiful, 
 and diversified with well chosen circumstances ; 
 such as that upon the death of Ryno and Orla : 
 " They have fallen like the oak of the desert ; 
 " when it lies across a stream, and withers in the 
 ''' wind of the mountains :" Or that which Os- 
 sian applies to himself; " I, like an ancient oak 
 " in Morven, moulder alone in my place ; the 
 " blast hath lopped my branches away; and I 
 " tremble at the wings of the north." 
 
 As Homer exalts his heroes by comparing them 
 to Gods, Ossian makes the same use of compa- 
 risons taken from spirits and ghosts. Swaran 
 " roared in battle, like the shrill spirit of a storm 
 " that sits dim on the clouds of Gormal, and en- 
 " joys the death of the mariner." " His people 
 " gathered around Erragon, like storms around 
 " the ghost of night, when he calls them from 
 " the top of Morven, and prepares to pour them 
 " on the land of the stranger." " They fell be- 
 " fore my son, like groves in the desert, when 
 " an angry ghost rushes through night, and takrs 
 " their green heads in 'his hand." Li such ima- 
 ges. Ossian appears in his strength ; for very si- 1-
 
 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 dom have supernatural beings been painted with 
 so much sublimity, and such force of imagina- 
 tion, as by this poet. Even Homer, great as he 
 is, must yield to him in similes formed upon 
 these. Take, f<5r instance, the following, whic' 
 is the most remarkable of this kind in the ! 
 "Meriones followed Idomeneus to battle, like 
 " Mars the destroyer of men, when he rushes to 
 " war. . Terror, his beloved son, strong and 
 " fierce, attends him ; who fills with dismay the 
 " most valiant hero. They come from Thrace, 
 " armed against the Ephyrians and Phlegyans; 
 *' nor do they regard the prayers of either ; but 
 " dispose of success at their will *." The idea 
 here, is undoubtedly noble: but observe what a 
 figure Ossian sets before the astonished imagina- 
 tion, and with what sublimely terrible circum- 
 stances he has heightened it. " He rushed in 
 " the sound of his arms, like the dreadful spirit 
 " of Loda, when he comes in the roar of a thou- 
 " sand storms, and scatters battles from his eyes. 
 " He sits on a cloud over Lochlin's seas. His 
 " mighty hand is on his sword. The winds lift 
 
 * Iliad, xiii. 298.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 2 IT 
 
 " his flaming locks. So terrible was Cuthullin 
 " in the day of his fame." 
 
 Homer's comparisons relate chiefly to martial 
 subjects, to the appearances and motions of ar- 
 mies, the engagement and death of heroes, and 
 the various incidents of war. In Ossian, we find 
 a greater variety of other subjects illustrated by 
 similes ; particularly, the songs of bards, the 
 beauty of women, the different circumstances of 
 old age, sorrow, and private distress ; which give 
 occasion to much beautiful imagery. What, for 
 instance, can be more delicate and moving, 
 than the following simile of Oithona's, in her la- 
 mentation over the dishonour she had suffered ? 
 " Chief of Strumon," replied the sighing maid, 
 " why didst thou come over the dark blue wave 
 " to Nuath's mournful daughter ? Why did not 
 " I pass away in secret, like the flower of the 
 " rock, that lifts its fair head unseen, and strews 
 " its withered leaves on the blast ?" The music 
 of bards, a favourite object with Ossian, is illus- 
 trated by a variety of the most beautiful appear- 
 ances that are to be found in nature. It is com- 
 pared to the calm shower in spring; to the dews 
 of the morning on the hill of roes ; to the face 
 of the blue and still lake. Two similes on this
 
 018 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION O^ 
 
 subject, I shall quote, because they would du 
 honour to any of the most celebrated classics. 
 The one is ; " Sit thou on the heath, O bard ! 
 " and let us hear thy voice; it is pleasant as the 
 " gale of the spring that sighs on the hunter's 
 " ear, when he wakens from dreams of joy, and 
 " has heard the music of .the spirits of the hill." 
 The other contains a short, but exquisitely ten- 
 der image, accompanied with the finest poetical 
 painting. " The music of Carril was like the 
 " memory of joys that are past, pleasant and 
 " mournful to the soul. The ghosts of depart- 
 " ed bards heard it from Slimora's side. Soft 
 " spunds spread along the wood; and the silent 
 " valleys of night rejoice." What a figure 
 would such imagery and such scenery have made, 
 had they been presented to us, adorned with the 
 sweetness and harmony of the Virgilian numbers ! 
 I have chosen all along to compare Ossian 
 with Ho:r.er, rather than Virgil, for an obvious 
 reason. There is a much nearer correspondence 
 between the times and manners of the two for- 
 mer poets. Both wrote in an early period of so- 
 ciety ; both are originals ; both are distinguish- 
 ed by simplicity, sublimity, and fire. The cor- 
 rect elegance of Virgil, his artful imitation el'
 
 THE POEMS 0FOSSI.i5f. 2^9 
 
 Homer, the Roman stateliness which he every- 
 where maintains, admit no parallel with the ab- 
 rupt boldness and enthusiastic warmth of the 
 Celtic bard. In one article, indeed, there is a 
 resemblance. Virgil is more tender than Ho- 
 mer ; and thereby agrees more with Ossian ; 
 with this difference, that the feelings of the one 
 are more gentle and polished, those of the other 
 more strong ; the tenderness of Virgil softens, 
 that of Ossian dissolves and overcomes the heart. 
 A resemblance may be sometimes observed 
 between Ossian's comparisons, ar.d those em- 
 ployed by the sacred writers. They abound 
 much in this figure, and they use it with the 
 utmost propriety*. The imagery of Scripture 
 exhibits a soil and climate altogether different 
 from those of Ossian ; a warmer country, a 
 more smiling face of nature, the arts of agricul- 
 ture and of rural life much farther advanced. 
 The wine press, and the threshing floor, are of- 
 ten presented to us, the cedar and the palm-tree, 
 the fragrance of perfumes, the voice of the turtle, 
 and the beds of lilies. The similes are, like Os- 
 sian's, generally short, touching on one point of 
 
 * See Dr Lowth, de Sacra Poesi Hebrfeoru:u.
 
 220 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 resemblance, rather than spread out into little 
 episodes. In the following example may be per- 
 ceived what inexpressible grandeur poetry re- 
 ceives from the intervention of the Deity. " The 
 " nations shall rush like the rush ings of many 
 " waters; but God shall rebuke them, and they 
 " shall fly far off, and shall be chased as the 
 " chaff of the mountains before the wind, and 
 " like the down of the thistle before the whirl - 
 " wind." * 
 
 Besides formal comparisons, the poetry of Os- 
 sian is embellished with many beautiful meta- 
 phors : Such as that remarkably fine one ap- 
 plied to Deugala ; " She was covered with the 
 " light of beauty ; but her heart was the house 
 " of pride." This mode of expression, which 
 suppresses the mark of comparison, and substi- 
 tutes a figured description in room of the object 
 described, is a great enlivener of style. It de- 
 notes that glow and rapidity of fancy, which, 
 without pausing to form a regular simile, paints 
 the object at one stroke. " Thou art to me the 
 " beam of the east, rising in a land unknown." 
 " In peace, thou art the gale of spring ; in war, 
 
 * Isaiah, xvii. 13.
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 221 
 
 " the mountain storm." " Pleasant be thy rest, 
 " O lovely beam, soon hast thou set on our hills! 
 " The steps of thy departure were stately, like 
 " the moon on the blue trembling wave. But 
 " thou hast left us in darkness, first of the maids 
 " of Lutha! Soon hast thou set, Malvina ! but 
 " thou risest, like the beam of the east, among 
 " the spirits of thy friends, where they sit in 
 " their stormy halls, the chambers of the thun- 
 " der." This is correct, and finely supported ; 
 but, in the following instance, the metaphor, 
 though very beautiful at the beginning, becomes 
 imperfect before it closes, by being improperly 
 mixed with the literal sense. " Trathal went 
 " forth with the stream of his people ; but they 
 " met a rock : Fingal stood unmoved ; broken 
 " they rolled back from his side. Nor did they 
 " roll in safety ; the spear of the king pursued 
 " their flight/' 
 
 The hyperbole is a figure which we might ex- 
 pect to find often employed by Ossian ; as the 
 undisciplined imagination of early ages generally 
 prompts exaggeration, and carries its objects to 
 excess; whereas longer experience, and farther 
 progress in the arts of life, chasten men's ideas 
 and expressions. Yet Ossian's hyperboles ap-
 
 22'2 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 pear not to me, cither so frequent or so harsh 
 as might at first have been looked for ; an ad- 
 vantage owing, no doubt, to the more cultivated 
 state, in which, as was before shewn, poetry 
 subsisted among the ancient Cclt;e, than among 
 most other barbarous nations. One of the most 
 exaggerated descriptions in the whole work, is 
 what meets us at the beginning of Fingal, where 
 the scout makes his report to Cuthullin of the 
 landing of the foe. But this is so far from de- 
 serving censure that it merits praise, as being, 
 on that occasion, natural and proper. The scout 
 arrives, trembling and full of fears ; and it is 
 well known, that no passion disposes men to hy- 
 perbolize more than terror. It both annihilates 
 themselves in their own apprehension, and mag- 
 nifies every object which they view th rough tho 
 medium of a troubled imagination. Hence all 
 those indistinct images of formidable greatness, 
 the natural marks of a disturbed and confused 
 mind, which occur in Moran's description of 
 Swaran's appearance, and in his relation of the 
 conference which they held together; not unlike 
 the report which the affrighted Jewish spies made 
 to their leader of the land of Canaan. " The 
 '* land through which we have gone to search
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 225 
 
 * it, is a land that catcth up the inhabitants 
 " thereof; and all the people that \vc saw in it, 
 " are men of a great stature : and there saw we 
 " giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the 
 " giants; and we were in our own sight as grass- 
 " hoppers, and so were we in their sight."* 
 
 With regard to personifications, I formerly ob- 
 served that Ossian was sparing, and I accounted 
 for his being so. Allegorical personages he has 
 none; and their absence is not to be regretted. 
 I-'or the intermixture of those shadowy beings, 
 which have not the support even of mythological 
 or legendary belief, with human actors, seldom 
 produces a good effect. The fiction becomes too 
 visible and phantastic ; and overthrows that im- 
 pression of reality, which the probable recital of 
 human actions is calculated to make upon the 
 mind. In the serious and pathetic scenes of Os 
 sian especially, allegorical characters would have 
 been as much out of place, as in tragedy; ser- 
 ving only unseasonably to amuse the fancy, 
 \vhilst they stopped the current and weakened 
 the force of passion. 
 
 With apostrophes, or addresses to persons ab- 
 
 * Numbers, iiii. 32, 33.
 
 224 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OIT 
 
 sent or dead, which have been, in all ages, the 
 language of passion, our poet abounds ; and they 
 are among his highest beauties. Witness the 
 apostrophe, in the first book of Fingal, to the 
 maid of Inistore, whose lover had fallen in battle; 
 and that inimitably fine one of Cuthullin to Bra- 
 gela, at the conclusion of the same book. He 
 commands the harp to be struck' in her praise; 
 and the mention of Bragela's name, immediately 
 suggesting to him a crowd of tender ideas ; " Dost 
 " thou raise thy fair face from the rocks," he 
 exclaims, " to find the sails of Cuthullin ? The 
 " sea is rolling far distant, and its white foam 
 " shall deceive thee for my sails." And now 
 his imagination being wrought up to conceive 
 her as, at that moment, really in this situation, 
 he becomes afraid of the harm she may receive 
 from the inclemency of the night; and, with an 
 enthusiasm, happy and affecting, though beyond 
 the cautious strain of modern poetry, " Retire," 
 he proceeds, " retire, for it is night, my love, 
 " and the dark winds sigh in thy hair. Retire 
 " to the hall of my feasts, and think of the times 
 " that are past ; for I will not return till the 
 " storm of war has ceased. O Connal, speak of 
 " wars and arms, and send her from my mind ;
 
 jliE POEMS OP OSSIAX. 
 
 <: for lovely with her raven hair is the whitc-bo- 
 " somed daughter of Sorglan." This breathes 
 all the native spirit of passion and tenderness. 
 
 The addresses to the sun, to the moon, and to 
 the evening star, must draw the attention of every 
 reader of taste, as among the most splendid orna- 
 ments of this collection. The beauties of each 
 are too great, and too obvious, to need any par- 
 ticular comment. In one passage only of the 
 address to the moon, there appears some obscu- 
 rity. " Whither dost tliou retire from thy course, 
 " when the darkness of thy countenance grows r 
 " Hast thou thy hall like Ossian-f Dwcllest thou 
 " in the shadow of grief ? Have thy sisters fallen 
 " from Heaven ? Are they who rejoiced with 
 " thee at night, no more? Yes, they have fallen, 
 " fair light ! and thou dost often retire to mourn." 
 We may be at a loss to comprehend, at first view, 
 the ground of these speculations of Ossian, con- 
 cerning the moon; but when all the circum- 
 stances arc attended to, they will appear to flow 
 naturally from the present situation of his mind. 
 A mind under the dominion of any strong pas- 
 sion, tinctures with its own disposition every ob- 
 ject which it beholds. The ol'd bard, with his 
 heart bleeding for the loss of his friends, is me- 
 
 VOJL. i. p
 
 226' A CRITICAL DISSERTATION O.V 
 
 dilating on the different phases of the moon. 
 Her waning and darkness presents to his melan- 
 choly imagination the image of sorrow ; and pre- 
 sently the idea arises, and is indulged, that, like 
 himself she retires to mourn over the loss of other 
 moons, or of stars, whom he calls her sisters, and 
 fancies to have once rejoiced with her at night, 
 now fallen from heaven. Darkness suggested the 
 idea of mourning, and mourning suggested no- 
 thing so naturally to Ossian as the death of be- 
 loved friends. An instance precisely similar of 
 this influence of passion, may be seen in a pas- 
 sage which has always been admired of Shak- 
 speare's King Lear. The old man on the point 
 of distraction, through the inhumanity of his 
 daughters, sees Edgar appear disguised like a 
 beggar and a madman. 
 
 Lear. Didst thou give all to thy daughters ? And art 
 
 thon come to this ? 
 Couldest thou leave nothing ; Didst thou give them all? 
 
 Kent. He hath no daughters, Sir. 
 
 Lear. Death, traitor ! nothing could have subdued 
 
 nature, 
 To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters. 
 
 KING LEAK, ACT III, SCENE V. 
 
 The apostrophe to the winds, in the opening 
 of Darthula, is in the highest spirit of poetry. 
 ' But the winds deceive thee, O Darthula: and
 
 THE POEMS OP eSSIAN. 
 
 " deny the woody Etha to thy sails. These arc 
 " not thy mountains, Nathos, nor is that t-h" 
 " roar of thy climbing waves. The halls of Cair- 
 " bar are near, and the towers of the foe liu 
 " their head. Where have ye been, ye southern 
 " winds, when the sons of my love were deceived ? 
 " But ye have been sporting on plains, and pur- 
 " suing the thistle's beard. O that ye had been 
 " rustling in the sails of Nathos, till the hills of 
 rt Etha rose ! till they rose in their clouds, and 
 " saw their coming chief." This passage is re- 
 markable for the resemblance it bears to an ex- 
 postulation with the wood nymphs, on their ab- 
 sence at a critical time; which, as a favourite 
 poetical idea, Virgil has copied from Theocritus, 
 and Milton has very happily imitated from both. 
 
 Where were ye, nymphs ! when the remorseless deey 
 
 Clos'd o'er the head of sour lov'd Ljcidas? 
 
 For neither were ye playing on the steep 
 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie ; 
 
 Nor on the shaggy top of Mona, high, 
 
 Xor yet where Deva spreads her wizard j-lrcam. * 
 
 * Milton's Lycidas. Snc Thcocrit. Idyii. i. 
 
 Tla Tfox.' 0.0 v,~ r> i V/M Az>;j iTciziTs ; TIU. irv/.oc,, 
 V-ixfau, &C. 
 
 And Virg. Eciog. 10. 
 Qua: neaiora, aut qni vos salar- habuere, put!! t,. 6c'.-.
 
 228 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OK 
 
 Having now treated fully of Ossian's talon'-. 
 with respect to description and imagery, it only 
 remains to make some observations on his senti- 
 ments. No sentiments can be beautiful without 
 being proper ; that isj suited to the character and 
 situation of those \vho utter them. In this re- 
 spect, Ossian is as correct as most writers. His 
 characters, as above observed, arc in genera! 
 well supported ; which could not have been the 
 case, had the sentiments been unnatural or out 
 of place. A variety of personages of different 
 ages, sexes, and conditions, arc introduced into 
 his poems; and they speak and act with a pro- 
 priety of sentiment and behaviour, which it is 
 surprising to find in so rude an age. Let the 
 poem of Darthula, throughout, be taken as aa 
 example. 
 
 But it is not enough that sentiments be natu- 
 ral and proper. In order to acquire any high 
 degree of poetical merit, they must also be sub- 
 lime and pathetic. 
 
 The sublime is not confined to sentiment alone. 
 It belongs to description also; and whether in 
 description or in sentiment, imports such ideas 
 presented to the mind, as raise it to an uncom- 
 mon degree of elevation, and fill it with admira-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSI.'.:-.'. 2 2$) 
 
 j.nd astonishment. This is the highest effect 
 dther of eloquence or poetry : and to produce 
 this effect, requires a genius glowing \vith the 
 strongest and warmest conception of some object 
 awful, great, or magnificent. That this charac- 
 ter of genius belongs to Ossian, may, I think, 
 sufficiently appear from many of the passages I 
 have already had occasion to quote. To pro- 
 duce more instances, were superfluous. If the 
 engagement of Fingal with the spirit of Loda, in 
 Carric-thura ; if the encounters of the armies, in 
 Fingal; if the address to the sun, in Carlhon; 
 if the similes founded on the ghosts and spirits of 
 the night, all formerly mentioned, be not admit- 
 ted as examples, and illustrious ones too, of the 
 true poetical sublime, I confess myself entirely 
 .ignorant of this quality in writing. 
 
 All the circumstances, indeed, of Ossian's com- 
 position, are favourable to the sublime, more per- 
 haps than to any other species of beauty. Ac- 
 curacy and correctness ; artfully connected nar- 
 ration ; exact method and proportion of parts, 
 we may look for in polished times. The gay 
 and the beautiful, will appear to more advan- 
 tage in the midst of smiling scenery and plea- 
 Curable themes. But amidst the rude scenes of
 
 V'30 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 nature, amidst rocks and torrents, and whirl- 
 winds and battles, dwells the sublime. It is the 
 thunder and the lightning of genius. It is the 
 offspring of nature, not of art. It is negligent 
 of all the lesser graces, and perfectly consistent 
 with a certain noble disorder. It associates na- 
 turally with that grave and solemn spirit, which 
 distinguishes our author. For the sublime is an 
 .iwful and serious emotion ; and is heightened 
 by all the images of trouble, and terror, and 
 darkness. 
 
 Ipse pater, media nimborum in nocte, coruscii 
 Fulmina mollitur dextra ; quo maxima motu 
 Terra tremit ; fugere ferae ; et mortalia corda 
 Per gentes, humilis stravit pavor ; ille, flagranti 
 Aut Atho, aut Rhodopen, aut alta Ceraunia tele 
 Dejicit. VIRG. GEORG. i. 
 
 Simplicity and conciseness are never-failing 
 characteristics of the style of a sublime writer. 
 Hte rests on the majesty of his sentiments, not on 
 the pomp of his expressions. The main secret 
 of being sublime, is to say great things in few, 
 and in plain words : for every superfluous deco- 
 ration degrades a sublime idea. The mind rises 
 and swells, when a lofty description or senti-
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 2J1 
 
 inentis presented to it, in its native form. But 
 no sooner does the poet attempt to spread out 
 this sentiment or description, and to deck it 
 round and round with glittering ornaments, than 
 the mind begins to fall from its high elevation ; 
 the transport is over ; the beautiful may remain, 
 but the sublime is gone. Hence the concise and 
 simple style of Ossian, gives great advantage to 
 his sublime conceptions ; and assists them in 
 seizing the imagination with full power.* 
 
 * The noted saying of Julius Caesar to the pilot in a 
 storm, " Quid times ': Cassarem vehis ;" is magnanimous 
 and sublime. Lucan, not satisfied with this simple con- 
 ciseness, resolved to amplify aud improve the thought. 
 Observe, how every time he twists it round, it departs 
 farther from the sublime, till, at last, it ends in tumid 
 detlamation. 
 
 Sperne minas, inquit, Pehigi, ventoqne furenti 
 Trade sinum. Italiam, si coclo aiu-tore, recusas. 
 Me, pete. Sola tibi causa ha?c est justa timoris 
 Vectorem non nossc tuum ; quern numina nunquam 
 Destituunt ; de quo male tune fortuna meretur, 
 Cum post vota venit ; niedias perrumpe procelia^ 
 Ttitcla secure mea. Cceli iste freticjite, 
 Nun puppis nostrse, labor est. HancCacsare pre5s<iu> 
 A iluctu del'endit onus. 
 
 Quid tanta strage paratur, 
 
 Tgnoias ? Quasrit pelagi cojlique tumultu 
 
 Quid prae^tL-t fortuna mihi. 
 
 PHARS vi. v. 578.
 
 ;JJ2 A CRITICAL DIS.SKI;T.-\TION o.v 
 
 Sublimity, as belonging to sentiment, coin- 
 cides in a great measure with magnanimity, he- 
 roism, and generosity of sentiment* Whatever 
 discovers human nature in its greatest elevation ; 
 whatever bespeaks a high effort of soul ; or shews 
 a mind superior to pleasures, to dangers, and to 
 death, forms what may be called the moral or 
 sentimental sublime. For this, Ossian is emi- 
 nently distinguished. No poet maintains a high- 
 er tone of virtuous and noble sentiment, through- 
 out all his works. Particularly in all the, senti- 
 ments of Fingal, there is a grandeur and loftiness 
 proper to swell the mind with the highest ideas 
 of human perfection. Wherever he appears, we 
 behold the hero. The objects which he pursues, 
 are always truly great; to bend the proud ; to 
 protect the injured; to defend his friends; to 
 overcome his enemies by generosity more than by 
 force. A portion of the same spirit actuates all 
 the other heroes. Valour reigns ; but it is a ge- 
 nerous valour, void of cruelty, animated by ho- 
 nour, not by hatred. We behold no debasing 
 passions among Fingal's warriors ; no spirit of 
 avarice or of insult; but a perpetual contention 
 for fame ; a desire of being distinguished and re- 
 membered for gallant actions ; a love of justice ;
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAX. 233 
 
 and a zcaious attachment to their friends and 
 their country. Such is the strain of sentiment in 
 the works of Ossian. 
 
 But the sublimity of moral sentiments, if they 
 wanted the softening of the tender, would be in 
 hazard of giving a hard and stiff air to poetry. 
 It is not enough to admire. Admiration is a 
 cold feeling, in comparison of that deep interest 
 which the heart takes in tender and pathetic 
 scenes ; where, by a mysterious attachment to the 
 objects of comparison, we are pleased and de- 
 lighted, even whilst we mourn. With scenes of 
 this kind Ossian abounds ; and his high merit in 
 these, is incontestible. He may be blamed for 
 drawing tears too often from our eyes ; but that 
 he has the power of commanding them, I believe 
 no man, who has the least sensibility, will ques- 
 tion. The general character of his poetry, is the 
 heroic mixed with the elegiac strain ; admira- 
 tion tempered with pity. Ever fond of giving, 
 as he expresses it, " the joy of grief," it is visi- 
 ble, that on all moving subjects, he delights to 
 exert his genius ; and accordingly, never were 
 there finer pathetic situations, than what his 
 works present. His great art in managing them 
 lies in giving vent to the simple and natural emo-
 
 234 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 tions of the heart. We meet with no exaggera- 
 ted declamation ; no subtle refinements on sor- 
 row ; no substitution of description in place of 
 passion. Ossian felt strongly himself; and the 
 heart when uttering its native language never 
 fails, by powerful sympathy, to affect the heart. 
 A great variety of examples might be produced. 
 We need only open the book to find them every 
 where. What, for instance, can be more mo- 
 ving, than the lamentations of Oithona, after her 
 misfortune ? Gaul, the son of Morni, her lover, 
 ignorant of what she had suffered, comes to her 
 rescue. Their meeting is tender in the highest 
 degree. He proposes to engage her foe, in single 
 combat, and gives her in charge what she is to 
 do, if he himself should fall. " And shall the 
 " daughter of Nuath live ?" she replied, with a 
 bursting sigh. " Shall I live in Tromathon and 
 " the son of Morni low ? My heart is not of 
 " that rock ; nor my soul careless as that sea, 
 ' which lifts its blue waves to every wind, and 
 '' rolls benoath the storm. The blast, which 
 " shall lay thc-c low, shall spread the branches 
 " of Oithona on earth. We shall wither toge- 
 " ther, son of car-borne Morni ! The narrow 
 " house is pleasant to me ; and the grey stone
 
 THE POEMS OF OSS1AN. 235 
 
 "of the dead ; for never more will I leave thy 
 " rocks, sea-surrounded Tromathon ! Chief 
 *' of Strumon, why earnest thou over the waves 
 " to Nuath's mournful daughter ? Why did I not 
 " pass away in secret, like the flower of the rock x 
 " that lifts its fair head unseen, and strews its 
 " withered leaves on the blast ? Why didst thou 
 " come, O Gaul ! to hear my departing sigh ? 
 " O had I dwelt at Duvranna, in the bright 
 " beams of my' fame ! Then had my years come 
 " on with joy ; and the virgins would bless my 
 " steps. But I fall in youth, son of Morni, and 
 " my father shall blush in his hall." 
 
 Oithona mourns like a woman ; in Cuthul- 
 ?in's expressions of grief after his defeat, we be- 
 hold the sentiments of a hero, generous but des- 
 ponding. The situation is remarkably fine. 
 Cuthullin, rouzed from his cave, by the noise of 
 battle, sees Fingal victorious in the field. He 
 is described as kindling at the sight. " His hand 
 " is on the sword of his fathers ; his red-rolling 
 " eyes on the foe. He thrice attempted to rush 
 " to battle; and thrice did Connal stop himj" 
 suggesting, that Fingal was routing the foe ; 
 md that he ought not, by the show of superflu-
 
 330' A CRITICAL DISSERTATION O Iv 
 
 ous aid, to dcprhe the king of any part of the 
 honour of a victory, which was owing to him tr- 
 iune. Cuthullin yields to this generous senti- 
 ment; but we sec it stinging him to the heart 
 with the sense of his own disgrace. " Then, 
 " Carril, go," replied the chief, " and greet the 
 " king of Morven. When Lochlin fa-lls away 
 " like a stream after rain, and the noise of the 
 " battle is over, then be thy voice sweet in his 
 " ear, to praise the king of swords. Give him 
 " the sword of Caithbat ; for Cuthullin is wor- 
 " thy no more to lift the arms of his fathers. 
 " But, O ye ghosts of the lonely Cromla ! Ye 
 " souls of chiefs that are no more ! Be ye the 
 " companions of Cuthullin, arid talk to him if.- 
 " the cave of his sorrow. For never more shall 
 " I be renowned among the mighty in the "land. 
 " I am like a beam that has shone : Like a mist 
 " that has fled away ; when the blast of the 
 " morning came, and brightened the shaggy side 
 " of the hill. Connal ! talk of arms no more : 
 " departed is my fame. My sighs shall be on 
 " Cromla's wind ; till my footsteps cease to be 
 " seen. And thou, white-bosomed Bragela ! 
 " mourn over the fall of my fame ; for vanquish-
 
 THE PO-MS OF GS.SIAV. 2jf 
 
 " ed, I will never return to thce, thou sun-beam 
 %: of Dunscaich !" 
 
 ingens 
 
 Uno in corde pudor, luctusque, et couscia virtus. 
 
 Besides such extended pathetic scenes, Ossian. 
 frequently pierces the heart by a single unex- 
 pected stroke. When Oscar fell in battle, " No 
 " father mourned his son slain in youth ; no bro- 
 " ther, his brother of love ; they fell without 
 " tears, for the chief of the people was low." 
 In the admirable interview of Hector with An- 
 dromache, in the s-ixth Iliad, the circumstance 
 of the cntld in his nurse's arms, has often been 
 remarked, as adding much to the tenderness of 
 the scene. In the following passage relating to 
 the death of Cuthullin, we find a circumstance 
 that must strike the imagination with still great- 
 er force. " And is the son of Semo fallen :" 
 said Carril with a sigh. " Mournful arc Tura's 
 " walls, and sorrow dwells at Dunscaich. Thy 
 " spouse is left alone in her youth ; the son of 
 " thy love is alone. He shall come to Bragela, 
 " and ask her why she weeps. He shall lift his 
 " eyes to the wall, and sec his father's sword. 
 " Whose sword is that ? he will say ; and the
 
 238 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ON 
 
 " soul of his mother is sad." Soon after Finga, 
 had shewn all the grief of a father's heart for 
 Ryno, one of his sons, fallen in battle, he is cal- 
 ling, after his accustomed manner, his sons to 
 the chase. " Call," says he, " Fillan and Ry- 
 " no " But he is not here My son rests on 
 " the bed of death." This unexpected start of 
 anguish is worthy of the highest tragic poets ; 
 
 If she comes in, she'll aure speak to my wife- 
 My wife ! my wife What wife ? T have ne wife 
 Oh insupportable ! Oh heavy hour ! 
 
 OTHELLO, Act v. Scene vii. 
 
 The contrivance of the incident in both poets 
 is similar ; but the circumstances are varied 
 with judgment. Othello dwells upon the name 
 of wife, when it had fallen from him, with the 
 confusion and horror of one tortured with guilt. 
 Fingal, with the dignity of a hero, corrects him- 
 self, and suppresses his rising grief. 
 
 The contrast which Ossian frequently makes 
 between his present and his former state, diffu- 
 ses over his whole poetry, a solemn pathetic air, 
 which cannot fail to make impression on every 
 heart. The conclusion of the Songs of Selma, is 
 particularly calculated for this purpose. No-
 
 THE POMS OF OSSIAN. 239 
 
 thing can be more poetical and tender, or can 
 leave upon the mind a stronger and more affect- 
 ing idea of the venerable and aged bard. " Such 
 " were the words of the bards in the days of the 
 " song ; when the king heard the music of harps, 
 " and the tales of other times. The chiefs ga- 
 " thered from all their hills, and heard the love- 
 " ly sound. They praised the voice of Cona ;*'' 
 " the first among a thousand bards. But age is 
 " now on my tongue, and my soul has failed. 
 " I hear, sometimes, the ghosts -of bards, and 
 " learn their pleasant song. But memory fails 
 " on my mind ; I hear the call of years. They 
 " say, as they pass along ; Why does Ossian 
 " sing ? .Soon shall he lie in the narrow house, 
 " and no bard shall raise his fame. Roll on, ye 
 " dark-brown years ! for ye bring no joy in 
 " your course. Let the tomb open to Ossian, 
 " for his strength has failed. The sons of the 
 " song are gone to rest. My voice remains, 
 *' like a blast, that roars lonely on a sea-sur- 
 " rounded rock, after the winds are laid. The 
 " dark moss whistles there, and the distant rna- 
 " riner sees the waving trees." 
 
 * Ossian himself is poetically (failed the voice of Cona.
 
 1240 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 Upon the \vhole ;, if to feel strongly, and tc- 
 describe naturally, be the two chief ingredients 
 in poetical genius, Ossian must, after fair exami- 
 nation, be held to possess that genius in a high 
 degree. The question is not, whether a few im- 
 proprieties may be pointed out in his works ; 
 whether this, or that passage, might not have 
 been worked up with more art and skill, by some 
 writer of happier times ? A thr&usand such cold 
 and frivolous criticisms, arc altogether indeci- 
 sive as to his genuine merit. But, has he the 
 spirit, the fire, the inspiration of a poet? Docs 
 he utter the voice of nature ? Docs he elevate by 
 his sentiments ? Docs he interest by his descrip- 
 tions ? Does he paint to the heart as well as to 
 the fancy ? Does he make his readers glow, and 
 tremble, and weep ? These arc the great charac- 
 teristics of true poetry. Where these are found, 
 he must be a minute critic indeed, who can 
 dwell upon slight defects. A few beauties of 
 this high kind, transcend whole volumes of fault- 
 less mediocrity. Uncouth and abrupt, Ossian 
 may sometimes appear, by reason of his concise- 
 ness ; but he is sublime, he is pathetic, in an emi- 
 nent degree. If he has not the extensive know- 
 ledge, the regular dignity of narration, the fut-
 
 THE POEMS OF U3SI AS. 241 
 
 uess and accuracy of description, which \ve find 
 in Homer and Virgil, yet in strength of imagina- 
 tion, in grandeur of sentiment, in native majesty 
 of passion, he is fully their equal. If he flows 
 not always like a clear stream, yet he breaks 
 forth often like a torrent of fire. Of art too, he 
 is far from being destitute ; and his imagination 
 is remarkable for delicacy as well as strength. 
 Seldom or never is he either trifling or tedious ; 
 and if he be thought too melancholy, yet he is 
 always moral. Though his merit were in other 
 respects much less than it is, this alone ought to 
 entitle him to high regard, that his writings arc 
 remarkably favourable to virtue. They awake 
 the tenderest sympathies, and inspire the most 
 generous emotions. No reader can rise from 
 him, without being warmed with the sentiments 
 of humanity, virtue, and honour. 
 
 Though unacquainted with the original lan- 
 guage, there is no one but must judge the trans- 
 lation to deserve the highest praise, on account 
 of its beauty and elegance. Of its faithfulness 
 and accuracy, I have been assured by persons 
 skilled in the Gaelic tongue; who, from their 
 youth, were acquainted with many o! these poems 
 of Ossian. To transfuse such spirited and fer- 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 '^42 A CRITICAL DISSERTATION OX 
 
 vid ideas from one language into another ; to 
 translate literally, and yet with such a glow of 
 poetry ; to keep alive so much passion, and sup- 
 port so much dignity throughout, is one of the 
 most difficult works of genius, and proves the 
 translator to have been animated with no small 
 portion of Ossian's spirit. 
 
 The measured prose which he has employed, 
 possesses considerable advantages above any sort 
 of versification he could have chosen. Whilst it 
 pleases and fills the ear with a variety of harmo- 
 nious cadences, being, at the same time, freer 
 from constraint in the choice and arrangement 
 of words, it allows the spirit of the original to be 
 exhibited with more justness, force, and simpli- 
 city. Elegant, however, and masterly as Mr 
 Macpherson's translation is, we must never for- 
 get, whilst we read it, that we are putting the 
 merit of the original to a severe test. For, we 
 are examining a poet stripped of his native dress : 
 divested 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 versification in their original languages. 
 If then, destitute of this advantage, exhibited in 
 a literal version, Ossian still has power to pleasr
 
 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN. 243 
 
 as a poet ; and not to please only, but often to 
 command, to transport, to melt the heart ; we 
 may very safely infer, that his productions are 
 the offspring of true and uncommon genius ; and 
 we may boldly assign him a place among those 
 whose works are to last for ages. 
 
 F.XD OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 Printed by Jan.es Balladry nt.
 
 6634 3
 
 6634 3
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 OC 1 16 
 

 
 A 000 1 50 663 3 
 
 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA