stride on the heath! The beam of east is poured around. He saw his grey host on the field, wide-spreading their ridges in light. He rejoiced, like a spirit of heaven, whose steps come forth on the seas, when he beholds them peaceful round, and all the winds are laid **. But soon he awakes the waves, and rolls them large to some echoing shore.

1

24

On the rushy bank of a stream, slept the daughter of Inis-huna. The helmet had fallen

Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasant light
Spread o'er the plain.

Id. iv. 53.

And will you fight against a pleasant flame. Macpherson's versification in the Highlander was partly formed upon Dryden's translation of Virgil; but how could the flame of valour glowing, or gleaming in the breast, have ever been mistaken for ancient poetry?

24 Like a spirit of heaven, whose steps come forth on the seas, when he beholds them peaceful round, and all the winds are laid.] POPE's Iliad, xiv. 21.

As when old ocean's silent surface sleeps,

The waves just heaving on the purple deeps:
While yet th' expected tempest hangs on high,
Weighs down the cloud, and blackens in the sky,
The mass of waters will no wind obey;

Jove sends one gust, and bids them roll away.

"But soon he awakes the waves, and rolls them large to some echoing shore." And in the preceding paragraph, "Where broken hosts are rolled away, like seas before the wind."

from her head. Her dreams were in the lands of her fathers. THERE morning is on the field. Grey streams leap down from the rocks. The breezes, in shadowy waves, fly over the rushy fields. THERE is the sound that prepares for the chace. THERE the moving of warriors from the hall. But tall above the rest is seen the hero of streamy Atha 25. He bends his eye of love on Sul-malla, from his stately steps. SHE turns, with pride, her face away, and careless bends the bow.

Such were the dreams of the maid, when Cathmor of Atha came. He saw her fair face before him, in the midst of her wandering locks.

25 There morning is on the field.-There is the sound that prepares for the chace. There the moving of warriors from the hall. But tall above the rest is seen the hero of streamy Atha.] From the preparations of Dido and Æneas for the chace. DRYDEN'S Eneid, iv. 182.

The rosy morn was risen from the main,

And horns and hounds awake the princely train;
They issue early from the city gate,
Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait-
Then young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace,
Leads on the Trojan youth to view the chace;
But ar above the rest in beauty shines
The great Eneas, when the troop he joins.
See Book i. n. 6.

He knew the maid of Lumon.

What should

Cathmor do? His sighs arise. His tears come down. But straight he turns away. "This is no time, king of Atha, to awake thy secret soul. The battle is rolled before thee, like a troubled stream."

He struck the warning boss 26, wherein dwelt the voice of war. Erin rose around him, like the sound of eagle-wings. Sul-malla started from sleep, in her disordered locks. She seized the helmet from earth. She trembled in her place. "Why should they know in Erin of the daughter of Inis-húna?" She remembered the race of kings. The pride of her soul arose! Her steps are behind a rock, by the blue-winding stream of a vale: where dwelt the dark-brown hind ere yet the war arose. Thither came the voice of Cathmor, at times, to Sul-malla's ear. Her soul is darkly sad. She pours her words on wind.

"The dreams of Inis-huna departed. They

26 In order to understand this passage, it is necessary to look to the description of Cathmor's shield in the seventh book. This shield had seven principal bosses, the sound of each of which, when struck with a spear, conveyed a particular order from the king to his tribes. The sound of one of them, as here, was the signal for the army to assemble. MACPHERSON.

are dispersed from my soul. I hear not the chace in my land. I am concealed in the skirt of war. I look forth from my cloud. No beam appears to light my path. I behold my warrior low; for the broad-shielded king is near, he that overcomes in danger, Fingal from Selma of spears! Spirit of departed Conmor! are thy steps on the bosom of winds? Comest thou, at times, to other lands, father of sad Sul-malla? Thou dost come! I have heard thy voice at night; while yet I rose on the wave to Erin of the streams. The ghost of fathers, they say "7, call away the

27 It was the opinion of the times, when a person was reduced to a pitch of misery, which could admit of no alleviation, that the ghosts of his ancestors called his soul away. This supernatural kind of death was called the voice of the dead; and is believed by the superstitious vulgar to this day.

There is no people in the world, perhaps, who give more universal credit to apparitions, and the visits of the ghosts of the deceased to their friends, than the ancient Scots. This is to be attributed as much, at least, to the situation of the country they possess, as to that credulous disposition which distinguishes an unenlightened people. As their business was feeding of cattle, in dark and extensive deserts, so their journeys lay over wide and unfrequented heaths, where, often, they were obliged to sleep in the open air, amidst the whistling of winds, and roar of water-falls. The gloominess of the scenes around them was apt to beget that melancholy disposition of mind, which most readily receives impressions of the extraordinary and su

souls of their race, while they behold them lonely in the midst of woe 28. Call me, my father, away! When Cathmor is low on earth. Then shall Sul-malla be lonely in the midst of woe!"

pernatural kind. Falling asleep in this gloomy mood, and their dreams being disturbed by the noise of the elements around, it is no matter of wonder that they thought they heard the voice of the dead. This voice of the dead, however, was, perhaps, no more than a shriller whistle of the winds in an old tree, or in the chinks of a neighbouring rock. It is to this cause I ascribe those many and improbable tales of ghosts, which we meet with in the Highlands; for, in other respects, we do not find that the inhabitants are more credulous than their neighbours. MACPHERSON.

28 I have heard the voice of night.-The ghosts of fathers, they say, call away the souls of their race, while they behold them lonely in the midst of woe.] In the first editions, "Can seize the souls of their race." to conceal the imitation of Virgil's Dido. En. iv. 459.

Hinc exaudiri voces et verba vocantis

Visa viri; nor cum terras obscura teneret.
Oft when she visited this lonely dome,
Strange voices issued from her husband's tomb;
She thought she heard him summon her away,
Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay.

In the Treatise on the Second Sight, published in 1763, and as well attested as Ossian's poems, there is not a single instance of the voice of the dead calling the soul away. But every poetical incident of a classical origin, is converted into some Highland superstition, custom, or opinion of the times.