"the race. Observe the foes of Fingal from that "woody hill. But approach them not, your fa"thers are not near to shield you. Let not your "fame fall at once. The valour of youth may "fail!"

We heard the words of the chief with joy. We moved in the clang of our arms. Our steps are on the woody hill. Heaven burns with all its stars. The meteors of death fly over the field. The distant noise of the foe reached our ears. It was then Gaul spoke, in his valour: his hand half unsheathed his sword.

"Son of Fingal!" he said, "why burns the "soul of Gaul? My heart beats high. My steps

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are disordered: my hand trembles on my sword. "When I look towards the foe my soul lightens "before me. I see their sleeping host. Tremble "thus the souls of the valiant in battles of the " spear? How would the soul of Morni rise if

we should rush on the foe! Our renown would "grow in song; our steps would be stately in the of the brave."

eyes

"Son of Morni," I replied, " my soul delights "in war. I delight to shine in battle alone, to give my name to the bards. But what if the "foe should prevail, can I behold the eyes of the

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king? They are terrible in his displeasure, and "like the flames of death. But I will not behold "them in his wrath! Ossian shall prevail or fall. "But shall the fame of the vanquished rise? They

"pass like a shade away.

But the fame of Os

"sian shall rise! His deeds shall be like his fa "ther's. Let us rush in our arms; son of Morni, "let us rush to fight. Gaul, if thou shouldst re "turn, go to Selma's lofty hall. Tell to Everallin "that I fell with fame; carry this sword to Bran"no's daughter. Let her give it to Oscar, when "the years of his youth shall arise.”

"Son of Fingal," Gaul replied with a sigh, "shall I return after Ossian is low? What would "my father say: what Fingal the king of men? "The feeble would turn their eyes and say, "Behold Gaul who left his friend in his blood!' "Ye shall not behold me, ye feeble, but in the "midst of my renown! Ossian, I have heard "from my father the mighty deeds of heroes; "their mighty deeds when alone! for the soul in"creases in danger!"

"Son of Morni," I replied, and strode before him on the heath, 66 our fathers shall praise our "valour when they mourn our fall. A beam of gladness shall rise on their souls, when their eyes "are full of tears. They will say, 'Our sons "have not fallen unknown: they spread death "around them.' But why should we think of the 66 narrow house? The sword defends the brave. "But death pursues the flight of the feeble; their "renown is never heard."

We rushed forward through night; we came to the roar of a stream, which bent its blue course

round the foe, through trees that echoed to its sound. We came to the bank of the stream, and saw the sleeping host. Their fires were decayed on the plain; the lonely steps of their scouts were distant far. I stretched my spear before me to support my steps over the stream. But Gaul took my hand, and spoke the words of the brave. "Shall the son of Fingal rush on the sleeping foe! "Shall he come like a blast by night, when it "overturns the young trees in secret? Fingal "did not thus receive his fame, nor dwells renown "on the grey hairs of Morni for actions like

these. Strike, Ossian, strike the shield, and let "their thousands rise! Let them meet Gaul in "his first battle, that he may try the strength of " his arm."

My soul rejoiced over the warrior: my bursting tears came down. "And the foe shall meet thee, "Gaul," I said: "the fame of Morni's son shall "arise. But rush not too far, my hero: let the

gleam of thy steel be near to Ossian. Let our "hands join in slaughter. Gaul! dost thou not "behold that rock? Its grey side dimly gleams "to the stars. Should the foe prevail, let our "back be towards the rock. Then shall they "fear to approach our spears; for death is in "our hands!"

I struck thrice my echoing shield. The starting foe arose. We rushed on in the sound of our arms. Their crowded steps fly over the heath. They

thought that the mighty Fingal was come. The strength of their arms withered away. The sound of their flight was like that of flame, when it rushes through the blasted groves. It was then the spear of Gaul flew in its strength; it was then the sword arose. Cremor fell; and mighty Leth. Dunthormo struggled in his blood. The steel rushed through Crotho's side, as bent, he rose on his spear; the black stream poured from the wound, and hissed on the half-extinguished oak. Cathmin saw the steps of the hero behind him: he ascended a blasted tree; but the spear pierced him from behind. Shrieking, panting, he fell. Moss and withered branches pursue his fall, and strew the blue arms of Gaul.

Such were thy deeds, son of Morni, in the first of thy battles. Nor slept the sword by thy side, thou last of Fingal's race! Ossian rushed forward in his strength; the people fell before him; as the grass by the staff of the boy, when he whistles along the field, and the grey beard of the thistle falls. But careless the youth moves on; his steps are towards the desert. Grey morning rose around us; the winding streams are bright along the heath. The foe gathered on a hill ; and the rage of Lathmon rose. He bent the red eye of his wrath: he is silent in his rising grief. He often struck his bossy shield; and his steps are unequal on the heath. I saw the distant darkness of the hero, and I spoke to Morni's son.

"Car-borne chief of Strumon, dost thou be"hold the foe? They gather on the hill in their "wrath. Let our steps be towards the king.* "He shall rise in his strength, and the host of "Lathmon vanish. Our fame is around us, war"rior, the eyes of the aged+ will rejoice. But "let us fly, son of Morni, Lathmon descends the "hill." "Then let our steps be slow," replied the fair-haired Gaul; "lest the foe say, with a "smile, Behold the warriors of night. They

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are like ghosts, terrible in darkness; they melt away before the beam of the east.' Ossian, "take the shield of Gormor who fell beneath thy " spear. The aged heroes will rejoice beholding "the deads of their sons."

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Such were our words on the plain, when Sulmath came to car-borne Lathmon: Sulmath chief of Dutha at the dark-rolling stream of Duvranna. § Why dost thou not rush, son of Nuäth, with a thousand of thy horoes? Why "dost thou not descend with thy host, before the "warriors fly? Their blue arms are beaming to "the rising light, and their steps are before us on "the heath!?

* Fingal.

+Fingal and Morni.

+ Suil-mhath, a man of good eye-sight.

§ Dubh-bhranna, dark mountain stream. A river in Scotland which falls into the sea at Banff, still retains the name of Duvranna. If that is meant in this passage, Lathmon must have been a prince of the Pictish nation, or those Caledonians who inhabited of old the eastern coast of Scotland.