the lights it, before the nightly stranger. Shuddering, he stops in his journey, and looks up for the beam of the morn.

(1) Why delights Foldath, faid the king, to pour the blood of foes, by night? Fails his arm in battle, in the beams of day? Few are the foes before us, why should we clothe us in mift? The valiant delight to shine, in the battles of their land.

Thy counfel was in vain, chief of Moma; the eyes of Morven do not fleep. They are watchful, as eagles, on their moffy rocks. Let each collect, beneath his cloud, the ftrength of his roaring tribe. To-morrow I move, in light, to meet the foes of Bolga!Mighty (2) was he, that is low, the race of Borbar-duthul!

(1) From this paffage, it appears, that it was Foldath who had advised the night-attack. The gloomy character of Foldath is properly contrafted to the generous, the open Cathmor. Offian is peculiarly happy in oppofing different characters and, by that means, in heightening the features of both. Foldath appears to have been the favourite of Cairbar, and it cannot be denied but he was a proper enough minifter to fuch a prince. He was cruel and impetuous, but feems to have had great maṛtial

merit.

(2) By this exclamation Cathmor intimates that he intends to revenge the death of his brother Cairbar.

Not unmarked, faid Foldath, were my fteps before thy race. In light, I met the foes of Cairbar; the warrior praised my deeds. But his ftone was raised without a tear? No bard fung (1) over Erin's king; and shall his foes rejoice along their moffy hills?No they must not rejoice: he was the friend of Foldath. Our words were mixed, in fecret, in Moma's filent cave; whilft thou, a boy in the field, purfuedft the thiftle's beard. With Moma's fons I shall rush abroad, and find the foe, on his dusky hills. Fingal shall lie without his fong, the grey-haired king of Selma.

Doft thou think, thou feeble man, replied the chief of Atha; doft thou think that he can fall, without his fame, in Erin? Could the bards be filent, at the tomb of the mighty Fingal? The fong would burft in fecret; and the fpirit of the king rejoice.-It is when thou shalt fall, that the bard shall forget the fong. Thou art dark, chief of Moma, tho' thine arm is a tempeft in war.-Do I forget the king of Erin, in his narrow houfe? My foul is not loft to Cairbar, the brother of my

I

(1) To have no funeral elegy fung over his tomb, was, in thofe days, reckoned the greatest misfortune that could befal a man; as his foul could not otherwise be admitted to the airy hall of his fathers.

love. I marked the bright beams of joy which travelled over his cloudy mind, when I returned, with fame, to Atha of the ftreams.

Tall they removed, beneath the words of the king; each to his own dark tribe; where, humming, they rolled on the heath, faint-glittering to the ftars: like waves, in the rocky bay, before the nightly wind.Beneath an oak, lay the chief of Atha: his shield, a dusky round, hung high. Near him, against a rock, leaned the stranger (1) of Inis-huna: that beam of light, with wandering locks, from Lumon of the roes. -At distance rofe the voice of Fonar, with the deeds of the days of old. The fong fails, at times, in Lubar's growing roar.

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(2) Crothar, begun the bard, firft dwelt

(1) By the ftranger of Inis-huna, is meant Sulmalla, the daughter of Conmor king of Inis-huna, the ancient name of that part of South-Britain, which is next to the Irish coaft.- She had followed Cathmor in difguife. Her story is related at large in the fourth book.

(2) Crothar was the ancestor of Cathmor, and the firft of his family, who had fettled in Atha. It was in his time, that the first wars were kindled between the Fir-bolg and Caël. The propriety of the epifode is evident; as the conteft which originally rofe between Crothar and Conar, fubfifted afterwards

at Atha's moffy ftream. A thousand (1) oaks, from the mountains, formed his echoing hall. The gathering of the people was there, around the feaft of the blue-eyed king.But who, among his chiefs, was like the ftately Crothar? Warriors kindled in his prefence. The young figh of the virgins rofe. In Alnecma ( 2 ) was the warrior honoured; the first of the race of Bolga.

between their posterity, and was the foundation of the ftory of the poem.

(1) From this circumftance we may learn that the art of building with tone was not known in Ireland fo early as the days of Crothar. When the colony were long fettled in the country, the arts of civil life began to increafe among them; for we find mention made of the towers of Atha in the time of Cathmor, which could not well be applied to wooden buildings. In Caledonia they begun very early to build with ftone. None of the houfes of Fingal, excepting Ti-foirmal, were of wood. Ti-foirmal was the great hall where the bards met to repeat their compofitions annually, before they fubmitted them to the judgment of the king in Selma. By fome accident or other, this wooden houfe happened to be burnt, and an ancient bard, in the character of Offian, has left us a curious catalogue of the furniture which it contained. The poem is not just now in my hands, otherwife I would lay here a tranflation of it before the reader. It has little poetical merit, and evidently beats the marks of a period much later than that wherein Fingal lived.

(2) Alnecmay or Alnecmacht, was the ancient

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He purfued the chace in Ullin on the mofs-covered top of Drumardo. From the wood looked the daughter of Cathinin, the blue-rolling eye of Con-lama. Her figh rofe in fecret. She bent her head, midst her wandering locks. The moon looked in, at night, and faw the white-toffing of her arms; for she thought of the mighty Crothar, in the season of her dreams.

Three days feafted Crothar with Cathmin. On the fourth they awaked the hinds. Conláma moved to the chace, with all her lovely fteps. She met Crothar in the narrow path. The bow fell, at once, from her hand. She turned her face away, and half-hid it with her locks. The love of Crothar rofe. He brought the white-bofomed maid to Atha. -Bards raifed the fong in her prefence; joy dwelt round the daughter of Ullin.

The pride of Turloch rofe, a youth who loved the white-handed Con-lama. He came, with battle, to Alnecma; to Atha of the roes. Cormul went forth to the ftrife, the brother of car-borne Crothar. He went forth,

name of Connaught. Ullin is ftill the Irish name of the province of Uliter. To avoid the multiplying of notes, I shall here give the fignification of the names in this epifode. Drumardo high-ridge. Cathmin, calm in battle. Cón-lamha, foft hand Turloch, man of the quiver. Cormul, blue eye.