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race on thy fide. Fingal is bending, in night, over Duth-maruno's tomb. Near him are the fteps of his heroes, hunters of the boar.By Turthor's ftream the host of Lochlin is

fecond and third duan of Cath-loda. Their interpolations are so easily distinguished from the genuine remains of Offian, that it took me very little time to mark them out, and totally to reject them. If the modern Scotch and Irish bards have shewn any judgment, it is in afcribing their own compofitions to names of antiquity, for, by that means, they themselves have efcaped that contempt, which the authors of fuch futile performances muft, neceffarily, have met with, from people of true taste.

I was led into this obfervation, by an Irish poem, just now before me. It concerns a defcent made by Swaran, king of Lochlin, on Ireland, and is the work, fays the traditional preface prefixed to it, of Offian Mac-Fion. It however appears, from feveral pious ejaculations, that it was rather the compofition of fome good prieft, in the fifteenth or fixteenth century, for he fpeaks, with great devotion, of pilgrimage, and more particularly, of the blue-eyed daughters of the convent. Religious, however, as this poet was, he was not altogether decent, in the fcenes he introduces between Swaran and the wife of Congcullion, both of whom he reprefents as giants. It happening unfortunately, that Congcullion was only of a moderate ftature, his wife, without hesitation, preferred Swaran, as a more adequate match for her own gigantic fize. From this fatal preference proceeded fo much mifchief, that the good poet altogether loft fight of his principal action, and he ends the piece, with an advice to men, in the choice of their wives, which, however good it may be, I shall leave concealed in the obfcurity of the original,

deep in shades. The wrathful kings flood on two hills; they looked forward from their boffy shields. They looked forward on the ftars of night, red-wandering in the weft, Cruth-loda bends from high, like a formless meteor in clouds. He fends abroad the winds, and marks them, with his figns. Starno forefaw, that Morven's king was never to yield in war.

He twice ftruck the tree in wrath. He rushed before his fon. He hunimed a furly fong; and heard his hair in wind. Turned (1) from one another, they ftood, like two oaks, which different winds had bent; each hangs over its own loud rill, and shakes its boughs in the courfe of blafts.

Annir, faid Starno of lakes, was a fire that confumed of old. He poured death from his eyes, along the ftriving fields. His joy

(1) The furly attitude of Starno and Swaran is well adapted to their fierce and uncomplying dif pofitions. Their characters, at firft fight, teem little different; but, upon examination, we find, that the poet has dexterously diftinguished between them. They were both dark, ftubborn, haughty and referved: but Starno was cunning, revengeful, and cruel, to the highest degree; the difpofition of Swaran, though favage, was lefs bloody, and fomewhat tinctured with generofity. It is doing injuftice to Ollian, to fay, that he has not a great yariety of characters,

was in the fall of men. Blood, to him, was a fummer ftream, that brings joy to withered vales, from its own mofly rock. He came forth to the lake Luth-cormo,

to meet

the tall Corman - trunar, he from Urlor of ftreams, dweller of battle's wing.

The chief of Urlor had come to Gormal, with his dark-bofomed ships; he saw the daughter of Annir, white armed Foinarbragal. He faw her: nor carelefs rolled her eyes, on the rider of ftormy waves She fled to his ship in darkness, like a moon-beam thro' a nightly vale. -Annir purfued along the deep; he called the winds of heaven. - Nor alone was the king; Starno was by his fide. Like U-thorno's young eagle, I turned my eyes on my father.

We came to roaring Urlor. With his people came tall Corman-trunar. We fought; but the foe prevailed. In his wrath ftood Annir of lakes He lopped the young trees, with his fword. His eyes rolled red in his rage. I marked the foul of the king, and I retired in night.-From the field I took a broken helmet: a shield that was pierced with fteel pointless was the fpear in my hand. I went to find the foe.

On a rock fat tall Corman-trunar, befide his burning oak; and near him, beneath

a tree, fat deep-bofomed Foinar-bragal. I threw my broken shield before her; and fpoke the words of peace. - Befide his rolling sea, lies Annir of many lakes. The king was pierced in battle; and Starno is to raise his tomb. Me, a fon of Loda, he fends to white-handed Foinar-bragal, to bid her send a lock from her hair, to reft with her father, in earth. And thou, king of roaring Urlor, let the battle ceafe, till Annir receive the sheil, from fiery-eyed Cruth-loda.

(1) Bursting into tears, she rofe, and tore a lock from her hair; a lock, which wandered, in the blast, along her heaving breaft. Corman-trunar gave the shell; and bade me to rejoice before him.-I refted in the shade of night; and hid my face in my helmet deep. -Sleep defcended on the foe. I rofe, like a ftalking ghoft. I pierced the fide of Cormantrunar. Nor did Foinar-bragal efcape. She rolled her white bofom in blood. Why then, daughter of heroes, didit thou wake my

(1) Offian is very partial to the fair fex. Even the daughter of the cruel Annir, the fifter of the revengeful and bloody Starno, partakes not of thofe difagreeable characters fo peculiar to her family. She is altogether tender and delicate. Homer of all ancient poets, ufes the fex with leaft ceremony. His cold contempt is even worse, than the downright abufe of the moderns; for to draw abuse implies the poffeffion of fome merit.

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rage Morning rofe. The foe were fled, like the departure of mift. Annir ftruck his boffy shield. He called his dark-haired fon. I came, ftreaked with wandering blood: thrice rofe the shout of the king, like the burfting forth of a fquall of wind, from a cloud, by night. We rejoiced, three days, above the dead, and called the hawks of heaven. They came, from all their winds, to feast on Annir's foes. Swaran !-Fingal is alone (1), on his hill of night. Let thy fpear pierce the king in fecret; like Annir, my foul shall rejoice.

Son of Annir of Gormal, Swaran shall not flay in shades. I move forth in light the hawks rush from all their winds. They are wont to trace my courfe: it is not harmless thro' war.

Burning rofe the rage of the king. He thrice raifed his gleaming fpear. But ftarting, he fpared his fon; and rushed into the night. - By Turthor's ftream a cave is dark, the

(1) Fingal, according to the cuftom of the Caledonian kings, had retired to a hill alone, as he himself was to refume the command of the army the next day. Starno might have fome intelligence of the king's retiring, which occafions his request to Swaran, to ftab him; as he forefaw, by his art of divination that he could not overcome him in open battle.

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