his natural obfcurity, by an open attack upon the moral characters of men, who are an honour to their country, and an ornament to polite literature; and who, I am convinced, are as much above the reach of my praife, as Mr. Shaw is below their contempt?

Mr. Shaw proceeds, and fays, "A collection "has lately been made up and publifhed at "Edinburgh, three years ago, by an ingenious "translator, Mr. Clarke, entitled, The Caledonian "Bards. It has been reviewed at London, and adduced as an argument for the genuineness "of Fingal. Mr. Clarke, when I charged him "with it, confeffed, that it was entirely made "up. One of the poems of that collection is "happily fet off with the title of The Words "of Woe. The author told me, all he had for "the ground-work of it, was a fong called Jur"ram na truaidhe, compofed on a late emigra"tion of the Highlanders to America. In the "fame manner the rest of the collection was. "made up. It, however, does Mr. Clarke's in"genuity credit; although, in general, for the "honour of his country, he alfo wishes to carry on the fraud of Offian." P. 30.

I take up the reader's attention, in what concerns nyfelf in this pamphlet, with particu

lar

lar reluctance. When I prefumed to lay a finall fpecimen of translations, exfecuted in the courfe of my private hours, before the public, I little imagined, that they would have produced an open attack upon my moral character. Criticifins of a different nature Mr. Shaw might have extended through pages, without giving the fmalleft uneafinefs to me, or the public having been troubled with any defences of mine. Here, however, is a serious charge; and I fhall give it a very serious answer, That it is FALSE

grossly falfe, and without the least foundation in truth. I have had converfations with many hundreds, on the fubject of the Gaelic poetry; and if one honeft man (for I place my opponent in a different clafs) will fay, that ever he heard me utter words fimilar to thefe, which he puts into my mouth, I fhall readily permit my name to be branded with eternal infamy.

Juram na truaidhe is here faid to have been compofed on a late emigration of the Highlanders to America. Now, if the reader will take the trouble to look into Mr. Macdonald's collection of original Gaelic poems, p. 251, he will find this beautiful elegy there; and that

it

it contains nothing of that nature, but abounds with the overflowings of forrow, poured forth by a lady on the death of a chief. This poem was currently known in the Highlands, for years before the people of that country ever thought of emigrating from their native land. We need not therefore be furprised, to hear our Inquirer denying the exfiftence of poems orally recited, when he has the unmatched asfurance, to write falfehoods concerning those published in the original language, and in every Celtic reader's hands, long before my translations were either made or publifhed.

I am tired, and I fear I have tired the reader much more, with joining falfehood to the name of Mr. William Shaw; tho' downright fictions merit little more than flat contradictions: and yet I am roufed to a repetition of those disagreeable contradictions in every page of his pamphlet; for there is not a page, that is not replete with the most impudent falfehoods. Amidst the agitation, which an honeft mind feels at every daring violation of veracity, I fometimes hefitate, whether the refpect due to truth, or the good manners to which the reader is entitled, fhould predominate. But as an at

ten

tention to truth is in itself commendable, truft I fhall be excufed for expreflions, which under that confideration cannot be deemed too fevere. Without making ufe of harfh epithets, I flatly contradict the following paragraph in p. 18. of Mr. Shaw's pamphlet. "I can eafily pro"ve, that these lines (the original of the 7th "book of Temora) have never been known to "any Highlander in Scotland, before he (Mr. "Macpherson) published them: but to my cer"tain knowledge, within these few years, an "illiterate Highland porter, or cady, of Edin"burgh, has got them by heart, being frequent"ly read to him by a gentleman (Mr. Clark) "zealous to fupport the impofture. This gent"leman is himself an ingenious translator."

*

In a converfation with Mr. Shaw, on the fubject of Gaelic poetry, he observed, that, amongst all the poems of Offian, which he had found in the Highlands, he had never met with the 7th book of Temora, publifhed by Mr. Macpherson. I replied, that an illiterate Highlander, refiding in Edinburgh, had rehearsed it to me, much in the fame words, that Mr. Macpherson had published it; and therefore, that I had not taken it down, as I was pof

feffed

feffed of the book.

He wished to hear him;

and he was fent for to a tavern, where he rehearfed fome part of this poem, along with many others. This is all that I know of the matter. I have not spoken to this man, fince Mr. Shaw's pamphlet appeared. He is a foldier in the city-guard; and if any perfon will take the trouble to inquire after him, he will find it to be a truth, that he had learned that poem, long before he ever faw me.

It is very remarkable, that, though I had confeffed myself an impoftor, I fhould have fubmitted to fo much drudgery, to fupport the credit of Mr. Macpherfon. To love our neighbour as ourselves, is a very well-known injunction; but to love him better, is a fpecies of morality, which mankind have yet to learn.

Mr. Smith is next brought forward. This gentleman, by his ingenious hiftory of the Druids, and his very elegant translations from the Gaelic, has drawn upon him the virulence and fcurrility of our inquirer. Mr. Smith's character, as an honeft man, is too firmly eftablifhed, to require any fupport from me; and his abilities as a writer, ftand confeffed among the friends of genuine tafte.

The