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The above mentioned Mr Alexander Macauly, Mr Adam Fergusson, professor of moral philosophy, and Mr Alexander Fraser, governor to Francis Stuart, Esq. inform me, that at several different times they were with Mr Macpherson, after he had returned from his journey through the Highlands, and whilst he was employed in the work of translating, that they looked into his manuscripts, several of which had the appearance of being old; that they were fully satisfied of their being genuine Highland poems: that they compared the translation in many places with the original; and they attest it to be very just and faithful, and remarkably literal.

It has been thought worth while to bestow this attention on establishing the authenticity of the works of Ossian, now in possession of the public: because whatever rank they are allowed to hold as works of genius; whatever different opinions may be entertained concerning their poetical merit, they are unquestionably valuable in another view; as monuments of the taste and manners of an ancient age, as useful materials for enlarging our knowledge of the human mind and character; and must, beyond all dispute, be held as at least one of the greatest curiosities, which have at any time enriched the republic of letters. More testimonies to them might have been produced by a more enlarged correspondence with the Highland countries: but I apprehend, if any apology is necessary, it is for producing so many names, in a question where the consenting silence of a whole country, was to every unprejudiced person the strongest proof, that spurious compositions, in the name of that country, had not been obtruded upon the world.

AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM,

IN SIX BOOKS.

The Argument.

Cuthullin (general of the Irish tribes, in the minority of Cormac, king of Ireland) sitting alone beneath a tree at the gate of Tura, a castle of Ulster, (the other chiefs having gone on a hunting party to Cromla, a neighbouring hill, is informed of the landing of Swaran, king of Lochlin, by Moran, the son of Fithil, one of his scouts. He convenes the chiefs; a council is held, and disputes run high about giving battle to the enemy. Connal, the petty king of Tongorma, and an intimate friend of Cuthullin, was for retreating, till Fingal, king of those Caledonians who inhabited the northwest coast of Scotland, whose aid had been previously solicited, should arrive; but Calmar the son of Matha, lord of Lara, a country in Connaught, was for engaging the enemy immediately. Cuthullin, of himself willing to fight, went into the opinion of Calmar. Marching towards the enemy, he missed three of his bravest heroes, Fergus, Duchomar, and Cathbat. Fergus arriving, tells Cuthullin of the death of the two other chiefs; which introduces the affecting episode of Morna, the daughter of Cormac. The army of Cuthullin is descried at a distance by Swaran, who sent the son of Arno to observe the motions of the enemy, while he himself ranged his forces in order of battle. The son of Arno returning to Swaran, describes to him Cuthullin's chariot and the terrible appearance of that hero. The armies engage, but night coming on, leaves the victory undecided. Cuthullin, according to the hospi tality of the times, sends to Swaran a formal invitation to a feast, by his bard Carril, the son of Kinfena. Swaran refuses to come. Carril relates to Cuthullin the story of Grudar and Brassolis. A party, by Connal's advice, is sent to observe the enemy; which closes the action of the first day.

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BOOK I.

CUTHULLIN * sat by Tura's wall; by the tree of the rustling sound. His spear leaned against the mossy rock. His shield lay by him on the grass. As he thought of mighty Cairbar, a hero whom he slew in war, the scout< of the ocean came, Moran & the son of Fithil!

a Cuthullin or rather Cuth-Ullin, the voice of Ullin,' a poetical name given the son of Semo, grandson to Caithbat, a druid celebrated by the bards for his wisdom and and valour, from his commanding the forces of the province of Ulster against the Filong, or Belge, who were in possession of Connaught. Cuthullin, when very young, married Bragela, the daughter of Sorglan, and passing over into Ireland, lived for some time with Connal, grandson by a daughter to Congal the petty king of Ulster. His wisdom and valour in a short time gained him such reputation, that in the minority of Cormac the supreme king of Ireland, he was chosen guardian to the young king, and sole manager of the war against Swaran king of Lochlin. After a series of great ac tions he was killed in battle somewhere in Connaught, in the twenty-seventh year of his age. He was so remarkable for his strength, that to describe a strong man it has passed into a proverb, He has the strength of Cuthullin.' They show the remains of his palace at Dunscaith in the Isle of Sky; and a stone, to which he bound his dog Luath, goes still by his name.

Cairbar, Cairbre, signifies a strong man.

We may conclude from Cuthullin's applying so early for foreign aid, that the Irish were not then so numerous as they have since been; which is a great presumption against the high antiquities of that people. We have the testimony of Tacitus, that one legion only was thought sufficient, in the time of Agricola, to reduce the whole island unde the Roman yoke; which would not probably have been the case had the island been i habited for any number of centuries before.

4 Moran signifies many; and Fithil, or rather Fili, an inferior bard.'

"Rise," said the youth," Cuthullin, rise; I see the ships of Swaran. Cuthullin, many are the foe; many the heroes of the dark-rolling sea.'

Moran!" replied the blue-eyed chief, a thou ever tremblest, son of Fithil: thy fears have much increased the foe. Perhaps it is the king of the lonely hills coming to aid me on green Ullin's plains."

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"I saw their chief," says Moran, " tall as a rock of ice. His spear is like that blasted fir; his shield like the rising moon. He sat on a rock on the shore: his dark host rolled, like clouds, around him. Many, chief of men! I said, many are our hands of war. Well art though named, The Mighty Man ; but many mighty men are seen from Tura's winding walls.",

He answered, like a wave on a rock, "who in this land appears like me? Heroes stand not in my presence; they fall to earth beneath my hand. None can meet Swaran in the fight but Fingal, king of stormy hills. Once we wrestled on the heath of Malmor, and our heels overturned the wood. Rocks fell from their place; and rivulets, changing their course, fled murmuring from our strife. Three days we renewed our strife, and heroes stood at a distance and trembled. On the fourth, Fingal says, that the king of the ocean fell; but Swaran says he stood. Let dark Cuthullin yield to him that is strong as the storms of Malmor.

"No!" replied the blue-eyed chief, "I will never yield to man! Dark Cuthullin shall be great or dead! Go, Fithil's son, and take mý spear. Strike the sounding shield of Cabait. It hangs at Tura's rustling gate; the sound of peace is not its voice. My heroes shall hear on the hill."

e Fingal the son of Comhal, and Morna the daughter of Thaddu. His grandfather was Trathal, and great-grandfather Trenmor, both of whom are often mentioned in the poem. Trenmor, according to tradition, bad two sons; Trathal who succeeded him in the kingdom of Morven, and Connar, cailed by the bards Connar the Great, who was elected king of all Ireland, and was the ancestor of that Cormac who sat on the Irish throne when the invasion of Swaran happened. It may not be improper here to observe, that the accent ought always to be placed on the last syllable of Fingal. f Meal-mor, a great hill.'

g Cabait, or rather Caithbat, grandfather to the hero, was so remarkable for his va lour, that his shield was made use of to alarm his posterity to the battles of the family. We find Fingal making the same use of his own shield in the 4th book. A horn was the most common instrument to call the army together, before the invention of bagspipes.

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He went and struck the bossy shield. The hills and their rocks replied. The sound spread along the wood: deer start by the lake of roes. Curach leapt from the sounding rock and Connal of the bloody spear. Cru gal's breast of snow beats high. The son of Favi leaves the dark-brown hind. It is the shield of war, said Ronnar! The spear of Cuthullin, said Lugar! Son of the sea, put on thy arms! Calmar, lift thy sounding steel! Puno, dreadful hero, rise! Cairbar from thy red tree of Cromla! Bend they white knee, O Eth! and descend from the streams of Lena. Ca-olt stretch thy white side as thou movest along the whistling heath of Mora: thy side that is white as the foam of the troubled sea, when the dark winds pour it on the murmuring rocks of Cuthon *.

Now I behold the chiefs, in the pride of their former deeds! Their souls are kindled at the battles of old, and the actions of other times. Their eyes are like flames of fire, and roll in search of the foes of the land. Their mighty hands are on their swords. And lightning pours from their sides of steel. They come like streams from the mountains; each rushes roaring from his hill. Bright are the chiefs of battle, in the armour of their fathers. Gloomy and dark their heroes follow like the gathering of the rainy clouds behind the red meteors of heaven. The sounds of crashing arms ascend. The grey dogs howl between. Unequally bursts the song of battle. And rocking Cromla/echoes round. On Lena's dusky heath they stand, like mist that shades the hills of autumn: when broken and dark it settles high and lifts its head to heaven!

"Hail," said Cuthullin, "sons of the narrow vales! hail, ye hunters of the deer! Another sport is drawing near it is like the dark rolling of that wave on the

Cu-raoch signifies the madness of battle. i Cruth-geal fair complexioned.'

Cuthon, the mournful sound of waves.

Cromleach signified a place of worship among the druids. It is here the proper name of a hill on the coast of Ullin, or Ulster.

Im So when th' embattled clouds in dark array,
Along the skies their gloomy lines display
The low hung vapours motionless and still
Rest on the summit of the shaded hill,

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coast! Shall we fight, ye sons of war! or yield green Inisfail to Lochlin! O Connal, speak thou first of men! thou breaker of the shields! thou hast often fought with Lochlin: wilt thou lift thy father's spear?" "Cuthullin!" calm the chief replied, "the spear of Connal is keen. It delights to shine in battle, and to mix with the blood of thousands. But though my hand is bent on war, my heart is for the peace of Erin?. Behold, thou first in Cormac's war, the sable fleet of Swaran. His masts are as numerous on our coast as reeds in the lake of Lego. His ships are like forests clothed with mist, when the trees yield by turns to the squally wind. Many are his chiefs in battle. Connal is for peace! Fingal would shun his arm, the first of mortal men! Fingal who scatters the mighty, as stormy winds the heath, when the streams roar through echoing Cona, and night settles with all her clouds on the hill!"

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Fly, thou chief of peace," said Calmar, the son of Matha; "fly, Connal, to thy silent hills, where the spear of battle never shone! Pursue the dark-brown deer of Cromla: and stop with thine arrows the bounding roes of Lena. But blue-eyed son of Semo, Cuthullin, ruler of the war, scatter thou the sons of Lochlin"! and roar through the ranks of their pride. Let no vessel of the kingdom of snow bound on the dark-rolling waves of Inistore. O ye dark winds of Erin rise! roar ye whirlwinds of the heath! Amidst the tempest let me die, torn in a cloud by angry ghosts of men; amidst the tempest let Calmar die, if ever chase was sport to him, so much as the battle of shields."

Ireland, so called from a colony who settled there, calied Falans. Inisfail, i. e. the island of the Fa-il, or Falans.

Connal, the friend of Cuthullin, was the son of Caithbat, prince of Tongorma, of the island of blue waves, probably one of the Hebrides. His mother was Fion-coma the daughter of Congal. He had a son by Foba of Conachar-nessar, who was afterwards king of Ulster. For his services in the war against Swaran, he had lands conferred on him, which, from his name, were called Tir-chonnuil or Tirconnel, i. e. the land of

Connal.

Erin, a name of Ireland; from ear' or 'iar' west, and in' an island. This name was not always confined to Ireland, for there is the highest probability that the lerne of the ancients was Britain to the north of the Forth. For lerne is said to be the north of Britain, which could not be meant of Ireland. Strabo, lib. 2. et 4. Casaub. lib. 1. 9 Calm-er, a strong man.'

The Gaelic name of Scandinavia in general; in a more confined sense, that of the peninsula of Jutland.

Anistore, the island of whales,' the ancient name of the Orkney işglands.

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