mor. His towers rofe on the banks of Atha: feven paths led to his halls. Seven chiefs ftood on and enlarge the ideas of the ancient Scots. It is to this caufe, we must attribute that fagacity and fenfe, which the common people, in the highlands, posfefs, still, in a degree fuperior even to the vulgar of more polifhed countries. When men are crowded together in great cities, they see indeed many people, but are acquainted with few. They naturally form themselves into small focieties, and their knowledge fcarce extends beyond the alley or ftreet they live in; add to this that the very employment of a mechanic tends to contract the mind. The ideas of a peafant are ftill-1 1-more confined. His knowledge is circumfcribed within the compass of a few acres; or, at moft, extends no further than the nearest market-town. The manner of life among the inhabitants of the highlands is very different from thefe. As their fields are barren, they have fcarce any domestic employment. Their time is spent therefore in an extenfive wilderness, where they feed their cattle, and thefe, by ftraying far and wide, carry their keepers after them, at times, to all the different fettlements of the clans. There they are received with hofpitality and good cheer; which, as they tend to display the minds of the hofts, afford an opportunity to the guests 1 on the paths, and called the ftranger to the feaft. But Cathmor dwelt in the wood, to avoid the voice of praise, Olla came with his fongs. Cairbar's feaft. Three hundred Ofcar went to warriors ftrode. along Moi-lena of the ftreams. The grey dogs bounded on the heath, their howling reached afar. Fingal law the departing hero: the foul of the king was fad. He dreaded Cairbar's gloomy thoughts, amidft the feast of shells. My fon raised high the fpear of Cormac; an hundred bards met him with fongs. Cairbar concealed with fmiles the death, that was dark in his foul. The feaft is fpread, the fhells refound: joy brightens the face of the hoft. But it was like the parting beam, of the fun, when he is to hide his red head in a storm. Cairbar to make their observations on the different characters of men; which is the true fource of knowledge and acquired fenfe. Hence it is that a common highlander is acquainted with a greater number of characters, than any of his own ank living in the most populous cities. Cairbar rofe in his arms; darkness gathered on his brow. The hundred harps ceafed at once. The clang) of fhields was heard. Far distant on the heath, Olla raised his fong of woe. My fon knew the fign of death; and rising seized his fpear. Ofcar! faid the dark red Cairbar, I behold the spear **) of Inisfail The fpear of Temo ra *) glitters in thy hand, fon of woody Mor ven! *) When a chief was determined to kill a perfon already in his power, it was usual to fignify that his death was intended, by the found of a shield ftruck with the blunt end of a fpear; at the fame time that a bard at a diftance raised the death-fong. A ceremony of another kind was long ufed in Scotland upon fuch occafions. Every body has heard, that a bull's head was ferved up to Lord Douglas in the castle of Edinburgh, as a certain fignal of his approaching death. **) Corinac, the fon of Arth, had given the spear, which is here the foundation of the quarrel, to Ofcar, when he came to congratulate him, upon Swaran's being expelled from Ireland. *) Ti - mor- rath, the house of good fortune, the name of the royal palace of the fupreme kings of Ireland, ven! It was the pride of an hundred **) kings, the death of heroes of old. Yield it, fon of Osfian, yield it to car-borne Cairbar, Shall I yield, Ofcar replied, the gift of Erin's injured king; the gift of fair - haired Cormac, when Ofcar fcattered his foes? I came to Cormac's halls of joy, when Swaran fled from Fingal. Gladnefs rofe in the face of youth: he gave the spear of Temora. Nor did he give it to the feeble, a Cairbar, neither to the weak in foul. The darknefs of thy face is no ftorm to me; nor are thine eyes the flames of death. Do I fear thy clanging fhield? Tremble I at Olla's fong? No: Cairbar, frighten the feeble; Ofcar is a rock. And wilt thou not yield the fpear? replied the rifing pride of Cairbar. Are thy words fo mighty, that **) Hundred here is an indefinite number, and is mighty, because Fingal is near? Fingal with aged locks, from Morven's hundred groves! He has fought with little men. But he must vanish before Cairbar, like a thin pillar of mist before the winds of Atha *). Were he who fought with little men, near Atha's darkening chief: Atha's darkening chief would yield green Erin to his rage. Speak not of the mighty, o Cairbar! but turn thy fword on me. Our strength is equal: but Fingal is renowned the firft of mortal men! Their people faw the darkening chiefs. Their crowding fteps are heard around. Their eyes roll in fire. A thousand fwords are halfunfheathed. Red-haired Olla raifed the fong of battle the trembling joy of Ofcar's foul arofe; the wonted joy of his foul, when Fingal's horn was heard. Dark as the fwelling wave of ocean before the rifing winds, when it bends its head near a coaft, *) Atha, fhallow river: the name of Cairbar's feat in Connaught. |