that fome of the principal charaeters are not equally well delineated and fuftained. Śwaran is dark, fullen, and inflexible; Cuchullin is diftinguished by a fenfibility exquifitely delicate. delicate. Connal is cool and prudent; Gaul difcovers all the ardour of youthful intrepi dity; and in the fingle character of Fingal, all the qualities are united, which can make us either love the man or admire the hero; " in peace he is the gale of fpring; in war, the mountain ftorm." Here let it be observed in favour of poetry, that at a time, and among a people, involved in the profoundeft ignorance, we find thefe illuftrious barbarians fo more than humanized by the fongs of their bards, that the noble spirit and elevated fentiments, which they fo eminently display, would do honour to the regular education, and elegant manners of the most polished age. From what has been faid, it is plain we think very highly of this performance. Yet we are not fo partial to it, as to put it in competition with the more confummate work of the father of epic poetry. A work which for its fuperior excellence was, at its first appearance in the world, deemed rather a divine, than human compofition! A work, from the due confideration of which are deduced thofe rules, that conftitute to this very hour the ftandard of epic perfection! To make a comparison therefore between Fingal and the Iliad, were to make Homer himself the judge between Homer and Offian. Many ftriking resemblances there are how ever between them; fo many indeed, as to induce a fufpicion among fcrupulous critics, that Offian understood the Grecian as well as the Gaulic language; and, which is more extraordinary, there may be fome reason to think, he was not wholly unacquainted with our modern Milton, But this only infers, that, with great geniuses, fimilar grand occafions will often excite the like fublime conceptions, and call forth the fame enthufiaftic expreffions. Hence, in many beautiful inftances which the elegant tranflator has pointed out, our Celtic poet feems to have caught the Mæonian infpiration. His fimiles, like thofe of Homer, and fome in the facred writings, though not minutely exact, yet feldom fail wonderfully to heighten whatever they are defigned to illuftrate. And if in the allufions with which the poem abounds, the images of trees, rocks, waves ftorms, beams of fire, and the great luminaries of heaven feem too of ten repeated; it is because they are at once the most obvious to an unenlightened genius, and the grandest objects in nature. On the whole, the imperfections of this poem, which will not bear the teft of critical examination, are naturally accounted for by the difadvantages of an ignorant and barbarous age. And instead of feeking in the works of Offian for the hitherto unequalled merit of Homer or Virgil; we fhould rather afk, whether in Offian's circumftances the greater of the two could have produced a more exquifite compofition? But if we owe his imperfections to the times in which he lived, we are also not a little indebted to them, for the numberless beauties by which our author is peculiarly diftinguished. Among thefe, are that native fimplicity, that wild luxuriance, that roman T a romantic air, fo ftriking, fo de- From the curiofity which fo un fcriptive, and fo happily adapted common a production must natuto this fublime fpecies of writing. rally have excited, it is probable To the manners of the times, may that the merit of it is already be likewife afcribed the frequent very well known to most of our intervention of the fofter fex, readers.. To those who have not whofe tragical loves furnish thofe yet perufed it, the following fpeaffecting episodes, which, blended cimen will recommend it much with the heroic ftory of the work more strongly than any thing we at large, form fuch a rare and ir- can add, to what has been already refiftible union of the pathetic and faid in its favour. It is a defcrip-. the terrible. Indeed both its de- tion of the battle between Swafects and excellencies fpeak loudly ran and Cuchullin, which we give in favour of its antiquity; its de-not as the beft, but as the first that fects, as the natural refult of bar- occurs in the work. barifm; its excellencies, as the efforts of a great genius, which like light bursting from darkness, thine the brighter for the night of ignorance through which, they blaze. But if, notwithstanding thefe marks of antique genuinenes, which add fo much weight to the editor's af fertion, this extraordinary piece fhould prove, after all, a modern compofition; then, would its faults admit of little extenuation, its beauties fink in that peculiar value which they derive from primitive fimplicity; and the poem, however well imagined, and happily executed, and with, all the merit of a fine original, be nevertheless efteemed but as a grand imposture, v "As rufhes a ftream of foam from the dark fhady steep of Cromla; when the thunder is rol ling above, and dark brown night on half the hill. So fierce, fo vait, and fo terrible rushed on the fons, of Erin. The chief like a whale of ocean, whom all his billows follow, poured valour forth as a fiream, rolling his might along the fhore. The fons of Lochlin heard the noife as the found of a winterftream. Swaran ftruck his boffy fhield, and called the fon of Arno. What murmur rolls along the hill like the gathered flies of evening? The fons of Innis-fail defcend, or ruling winds † roar in the dif tant wood, Such is the noife of τον Ως δ' ότι χείμαρ οι ποταμοί, κατ ̓ ὄρεσφι ρέοντες, Ες μισγα κείαν συμβάλλετον ἔβριμον ύδωρ, Gormal MILTON. Gormal before the white tops of my waves arife. O fon of Arno, afcend the hill, and view the dark face of the heath. He went, and trembling, fwift returned. His eyes rolled wildly round. His heart beat high against his fide. His words were faultering, broken, flow. Rife, fon of ocean, rife chief of the dark-brown fhields. I fee the dark, the mountain-ftream of the battle: The deep moving ftrength of the fons of Erin. The car, the car of battle comes, like the flame of death; the rapid car of Cuchullin, the noble fon of Semo. It bends behind like a wave near a rock; like the golden mift of the heath. Its fides are emboffed with ftones, and fparkle like the fea round the boat of night. Of polifhed yew is its beam, and its feat of the fmootheft bone. The fides are replenished with fpears; and the bottom is the foot-ftool of heroes. Before the right fide of the car is feen the fnorting horfe. The high-maned, broad breafted, proud, high-leaping ftrong fteed of the hill. Loud and refounding is his hoof; the fpreading of his mane above is like that ftream of smoke on the heath. Bright are the fides of the fteed, and his name is SulinSifadda. Before the left fide of the car is feen the fnorting horse. The thin-maned, high-headed, ftrong hoofed, fleet, bounded fon of the hill his name is Dufronnal among the ftormy fons of the fword.. A thoufand thongs bind the car on high. Hard polished bits fhine in a wreath of foam. Thin thongs bright ftudded with gems, bend on the stately necks of the feeds. -The fteeds that like wreaths of mist fly over the ftreamy vales. The wildnefs of deer is in their courfe, the ftrength of the eagle defcending on her prey. Their noife is like the blaft of winter on the fides of the fnow-headed Gormal. Within the car is feen the chief; the ftrong ftormy fon of the fword; the hero's name is Cuchullin, fon of Semo king of fhells. His red cheek is like my polished yew. The look of his blue-rolling eye is wide beneath the dark arch of his brow. His hair flies from his head like a flame, as bending forward he wields the fpear. Fly, king of ocean, fly; he comes, like a ftorm, along the streamy vale. When did I fly, replied the king, from the battle of many fpears? When did I fly, fon of Arno, chief of the little foul? I met the ftorm of Gormal when the foam of my waves was high; I met the form of the clouds, and fhall I fly from a hero? Were it Fingal himself my foul fhould not darken before him. Rife to the battle, my thoufands; pour round me like the echoing main. Gather round the bright fteel of your king; ftrong as the rocks of my land; that meet the ftorm with joy, and ftretch their dark woods to the wind. As autumn's dark storms pour from two echoing hills, towards each The reader may compare this paffage with a fmilar one in Homer, Iliad. 4. ver. 446. Τ Now death of the noble Sithallin*. Let the fighs of Fiona rife on the dark heaths of her lovely Ardan.They fell, like two hinds of the defart, by the hands of the mighty Swaran; when, in the midst of thousands he roared; like the fhrill fpirit of a storm, that fits dim, on the clouds of Gormal, and enjoys the death of the mariner. Nor flept thy hand by thy fide, chief of the ifle of mift §; many were the deaths of thine arm, Cuchullin, thou fon of Semo. His fword was like the beam of heaven when it pierces the fons of the vale; when the people are blafted and fall, and all the hills are burning around. Dufronnal + fnorted over the bodies of heroes; and Sifadda || bathed his hoof in blood. The battle lay behind them as groves overturned on the defart of Cromla; when the blast has paffed the heath laden with the spirits of night. Now fhield with fhield, with helmet helmet clos'd, With ftreaming blood the flipp'ry fields are dy'd, Statius has very happily imitated Homer. Jam clypeus clypeis, umbone repellitur umbo, Enfe minax enfis, pede pes, & cufpide cuspis, &c. , Weep Fiona, a fair Maid: and Ardan, The ifle of Sky; not improperly called the ifle of mift, as its high hills, which catch the clouds from the western ocean, occafion almost continual rains. + One of Cuchullin's horfes. Dubhfron gheal, Sith fadda,. i. e. long fride, Weep on the rocks of roaring winds, O maid of Iniftore, bend thy fair head over the waves, thou fairer than the ghost of the hills; when it moves in the fun-beam at noon over the filence of Morven. He is fallen thy youth is low pale beneath the fword of Cuchullin. No more fhall valour raife the youth to match the blood of kings. Trenar, lovely Trenar died, thou maid of Iniftore. His gray dogs are howling at home, and fee his paffing ghoft. His bow is in the hall unftrung, No found is in the heath of his hinds. As roll a thousand waves to the rocks, fo Swaran's hoft came on; as meets a rock a thousand waves, fo Inisfail met Swaran. Death raifes all his voices round, and mixes with the found of fhields.Each hero is a pillar of darknefs, and the sword a beam of fire in his hand. The field echoes from wing to wing, as a hundred hammers that rife by turns on the red fon of the furnace. Who are these on Lena's heath that are fo gloomy and dark? Who are these like two clouds*, and their fwords like lightning above them? The little hills are troubled around, and the rocks tremble with all their mofs. Who is it but Ocean's fon and the car-borne chief of Erin ? Many are the anxious eyes of their friends, as they fee them dim on the heath. Now night conceals the chiefs in her clouds, and ends the terrible fight." As most of the fmaller pieces in this collection were taken notice of in the last year's Register under the title of Fragments of ancient poetry, it is unneceffary to dwell particularly upon them here. They are either tragical or warlike, and admirable in their kind. In one of them is an addrefs to the Sun, which we think remarkably fine. The reader is to know that our poet, like Homer and Milton, was at this time blind. "O thou that rolleft above t, round as the fhield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O fun! thy everlafting light? Thou comeft forth, in thy aweful beauty, and the ftars hide themselves in the fky; the moon, cold and pale, finks in the western wave. But thou thyfelf moveft alone who can be a companion of thy courfe! The oaks of the mountains fall: the mountains themfelves decay with years; the ocean fhrinks and grows again the moon herself is loft in heaven; but thou art for ever the fame; rejoicing in the brightnefs The maid of Iniftore was the daughter of Gorlo king of Iniftore or Orkney iflands. Trenar was brother to the king of Inifcon, fuppofed to be one of the iflands of Shetland. The Orkneys and Shetland were at that time fubject to the king of Lochlin. We find that the dogs of Trenar are fenfible at home of the death of their mafter, the very inftant he is killed.. It was the opinion of the times, that the fouls of heroes went immediately after death to the hills of their country, and the fcenes they frequented the most happy time of their life. It was thought too that dogs and hoifes faw the ghosts of the deceased. As when two black clouds With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on MILTON. + This paffage is fomething fimilar to Satan's addrefs to the Sun, in the fourth book of Paradife loft, thou |