the middle ages, that we are indebted for the fullest developement of the character of Ossian as drawn by the Irish bards. This piece also, like the former, displays a glowing picture of the head and heart of the king of Morven, to whom, as the fair translator has remarked, every quality is attributed that is either interesting, amiable, or great *. The delineation, indeed, either of Ossian or his royal father, being precisely such as we find drawn in the poems translated by Macpherson, would answer the purpose which I have in view; but as the character of the bard is, from the splendor of his genius, from his blindness, and his being the last of his race, perhaps still more endeared to us than that of the warrior, I shall confine myself principally to the picture which has been given us of the former. The saint and the poet are represented as ́usual, conversing familiarly together, when the latter exclaims with his customary courtesy, O son of Calphruin !-sage divine! * Reliques, p. 99. Did e'er my tale thy curious ear The story of that chase to hear, The chase, which singly o'er the plain, Nor one of all his valiant train Its wond'rous progress view'd? A query to which the holy anchorite replies, O royal bard! to valour dear, But let me now, O bard, prevail ! Now let the song ascend; And through the wonders of the tale, The insinuation which the saint here throws out against the veracity of the bard very naturally and very deservedly calls forth a rebuke, but delivered in a tone of energy and moral dignity which has seldom been surpassed: O Patrick! to the Finian race A falsehood was unknown; No lie, no imputation base On our clear fame was thrown; But by firm truth and manly might That fame established grew, Our foes before us flew. Not thy own clerks, whose holy fect With thee to hymn, in concert sweet, Not thy own clerks in truth excell'd By honour train'd, by fame impell'd O Patrick of the placid mien, And voice of sweetest sound! Not one more faithful didst thou know The chief who gloried to bestow The prize the bards had won! Were Morni's* valiant son alive, O could my wish from death revive The celebrated Gaul Mac Mevrni, well known to the reader of Ossian's Poems. "Great as is Oisin's partiality," remarks the translator," in favour of the heroes of his own race, yet we find him, on all occasions, doing ample justice VOL. II. E Or Mac O'Dhuivne, graceful form, Joy of the female sight; The hero who would breast the storm, Or he whose sword the ranks defy'd, Or could Mac-Ronan now appear, Or,-Oh my Osgar* ! wert thou here, Not then, as now, should Calphruin's son With bells and psalms the land o'er-run, If Fergus + lived, again to sing As erst, the Fennii's fame; Or Daire, who sweetly touch'd the string, to the character and valour of a chief, who was not allied to his family, and whose tribe had even, at different times, been their very bitterest enemies."-Reliques, p. 76, 77. * Oscar the son of Ossian, who is said by the Irish bards to have been killed at the battle of Gabhra. + Fergus, one of the brothers of Ossian, and equally celebrated in the poetical annals of Ireland for the gift of song. He is beautifully and characteristically distinguished in the poem of Magnus the Great, to whom he had been sent Your bells, for me, might sound in vain, Or Fallan's generous worth remain, The ceaseless boon to give; Or Conan bald, though oft his tongue Or Finn's small dwarf, whose magic song Sweeter to me their voice would seem Than that thy clerks maintain ! This recollection of his departed friends and compatriots in arms is, if we except a few modern allusions, precisely in the spirit of almost innumerable passages in the Scottish Ossian, and blended too with the same sense of conscious superiority on the part of the unhappy bard. The lofty character, however, of Oisin's retort seems to have by Fingal, to inquire the motive of his landing with an hostile intention. Having replied to the insolent language of Magnus with great but dignified courtesy, the poet tells us, Mild Fergus then, his errand done, His mind, like the unchanging sun, RELIQUES, p. 47. |