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tion. Paternal affection is finely touched in the following paffage: "Son of Combal," replied the chief, “ the frength of Morni's arm hath failed. I attempt to "draw the fword of my youth, but it remains in its "place: I throw the fpear, but it falls fhort of the "mark; and I feel the weight of my shield. We de

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cay like the grafs of the mountain, and our ftrength returns no more. I have a fon, O Fingal! his foul has "deli hted in the actions of Morni's youth; but his "fword has not been lifted against the foe, neither has "his fame begun. I come with him to battle, to di"rect his arm. His renown will be a fun to my foul, in "the dark hour of my departure. O that the name of "Morni were forgot among the people, that the heroes "would only fay, Behold the father of Gaul (e)." And no lefs finely touched is grief for the lofs of children: "We faw Ofcar leaning on his fhield: we faw his blood "around. Silence darkened on the face of every hero: "each turned his back and wept. The King ftrove

to hide his tears. He bends his head over his fon;

and his words are mixed with fighs. And art thou "fallen, Ofcar, in the midst of thy courfe? The heart "of the aged beats over thee. I fee thy coming battles. "I behold the battles that ought to come, but they 46 are cut off from thy fame. When fhall joy dwell at "Selma? when fall the fong of grief ceafe on Morven ? My fons fall by degrees, Fingal will be the laft of The fame I have received fhall pass away: my age fhall be without friends: I fhall fit like a grey "cloud in my hall: nor fhall I expect the return of a

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fon with his founding arms. Weep, ye heroes of "Morven; never more will Ofcar ife (f)." Crothar fpeaks: Son of Fingal! deft thou not behold the "darkness of Crothar's hall of thells? My foul was not "dark at the feaft, when my people lived. I rejoiced

in the prefence of strangers, when my fon fhone in "the hall. But, Offian, he is a beam that is departed, "and left no ftreak of light behind. He is fallen, fon of Fingal, in the battles of his father.-Rothmar, the chief of graffy Tromlo, heard that my eyes had

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"failed; he heard, that my arms were fixed in the hall, "and the pride of his foul arofe. He came toward Croma; my people fell before him. I took my arms in "the hall; but what could fightlefs Crothar do? My fteps were unequal; my grief was great. I wished for "the days that were paft, days wherein I fought and

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won in the field of blood. My fon returned from the "chace, the fair-hair'd Fovar-gormo. He had not lifted "his fword in battle, for his arm was young. But the "foul of the youth was great; the fire of valour burnt "in his eyes. He faw the difordered fteps of his fa"ther, and his figh arofe. King of Croma," he said, ❝is it because thou haft no fon; is it for the weakness "of Fovar-gormo's arm that thy fighs arife? I begin, "my father, to feel the ftrength of my arm; I have "drawn the fword of my youth; and I have bent the "bow. Let me meet this Rothmar with the youths of "Croma: let me meet him, O my father; for I feel my burning foul, and thou shalt meet him, I faid, fon "of the fightlefs Crothar! But let others advance before "thee, that I may hear the tread of thy feet at thy re"turn; for my eyes behold thee not, fair-hair'd Fovar"gormo!He went, he met the foe; he fell. The "foe advances towards Croma. He who flew fon is "near, with all his pointed spears (g).”

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The following fentiments, about the shortness of human life, are pathetic: "Defolate is the dwelling of Moina, "filence in the house of her fathers. Raife the fong of mourning over the ftrangers. One day we must fall; "and they have only fallen before us. Why dost thou "build the ball, fon of the winged days! thou lookest "from thy towers to-day: foon will the blast of the de"fert come. It howls in thy empty court, and whistles

over thy half worn fhield (b)" How long fhall we <s weep on Lena, or pour our tears in Ullin! The mighty "will not return; nor Ofcar rife in his ftrength: the ❝ valiant muft fall one day, and be no more known. "Where are our fathers, O warriors, the chiefs of the "times of old! They are fet, like stars that have shone : "we only hear the found of their praife. But they were renowned

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renowned in their day, and the terror of other times. "Thus fhall we pafs, O warriors, in the day of our fall. Then let us be renowned while we may ; and leave our fame behind us, like the laft beams of the "fun, when he hides his red head in the weft (k),"

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In Homer's time heroes were greedy of plunder, and, like robbers, were much difpofed to infult a vanquished foe. According to Ollian, the ancient Caledonians had no idea of plunder and, as they fought for fame only, their humanity overflowed to the vanquished. American favages, it is true, are not addicted to plunder, and are ready to beflow on the first comer what trifles they force from the enemy. But they had no notion of a pitched battle, nor of fingle con bat: on the contrary, they value themfelves upon flaughtering their enemies by furprife, without rifking their own fweet perfons. Ágreeable to the magnanimous character given by Offian of his countrymen, we find humanity blended with courage in all their actions. "Fingal pitied the "white armed maid: he stayed the uplifted fword. "The tear was in the eye of the King, as bending for"ward he fpoke: King of ftreamy Sora, fear not the "fword of Fingal: it was never ftained with the blood "of the vanquished; it never pierced a fallen foe. "Let thy people rejoice along the blue waters of Tora: "let the maids of thy love be glad. Why fhould't "thou fall in thy youth, King of fireamy Sora (1) !” ^ Fingal fpeaks: "Son of my ftrength, he said, take the

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fpear of Fingal: go to Teutha's mighty ftream, and "fave the caiborne Colmar. Let thy fame return be"fore thee like a pleasant gale : that my foul may "rejoice over my fon, who renews the renown of our "fathers. Oflian! be thou a ftorm in battle, but "mild where thy foes are low. It was thus my fame "arofe, O my fon; and be thou like Selma's chief. "When the haughty come to my hall, my eyes behold "them not; but my arm is ftretched forth to the unhappy, my fword defends the weak (m)." "Ofcar! bend the strong in arm, but fpare the feeble "hand. Be thou a ftream of inany tides against the "foes

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(*) Temora, (1) Carric-thura. (m) Calthon and Colmal.

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"foes of thy people, but like the gale that moves the grafs to thofe who afk thy aid. Never fearch for the "battle, nor fhun it when it comes. So Trenmor lived; "fuch Trathal was; and fuch has Fingal been. My arm was the fupport, of the injured; and the weak "refted behind the lightning of my fteel (n)."

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Humanity to the vanquished is difplayed in the following paffages. After defeating in battle Swaran, King of Lochlin, Fingal fays, Raife, Ullin, raise the "fong of peace, and footh my foul after battle, that my "ear may forget the noife of arms. And let an

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"hundred harps be near, to gladden the King of Loch"lin he muft depart from us with joy; none ever "went fad from Fingal. Olcar, the lightning of my "fword is against the strong; but peaceful it hangs by my fide when warriors yield in battle (o).” "Uthal "fell beneath my fword, and the fons of Berrathon "fied. It was then I faw him in his beauty, and the tear hung in my eye. Thou art fallen, young tree, "I faid, with all thy budding beauties round thee. The winds come from the defert, and there is no "found in thy leaves. Lovely art thou in death, fon "of car-borne Lathmor (p)."

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After the scenes above exhibited, it will not be thought that Offian deviates from the manners reprefented by him, in defcribing the hospitality of his chieftains: "We heard the voice of joy on the coaft, and we

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thought that the mighty Cathmor came; Cathmor, "the friend of strangers, the brother of red-hair'd "Cairbar. But their fouls were not the fame; for "the light of heaven was in the bofom of Cathmor. "His towers rofe on the banks of Atha: feven paths "led to his hall: feven chiefs ftood on these paths, "and called the ftranger to the feaft. But Cathmor ❝ dwelt in the wood, to avoid the voice of praise (9).” "Rathmor was a chief of Clutha. The feeble dwelt "in his hall. The gates of Rathmor were never "closed his feaft was always fpread. The fons of "the ftranger came, and bleffed the generous chief "of Clutha. Bards raised the song, and touched the

(n) Fingal, book 3. () Fingal, book 6. (4) Temora.

harp:

(p) Berrathon.

Book I. "harp joy brightened on the face of the mournful. "Dunthalmo came in his pride, and rushed into com"bat with Rathmor. The chief of Clutha overcame. "The rage of Dunthalmo rofe: he came by night "with his warriors; and the mighty Rathmor fell: "he fell in his hall, where his feaft had been often "fpread for ftrangers (r)." It seems not to exceed the magnanimity of his chieftains, intent upon glory only, to feast even their enemies before a battle. Cuchullin, after the first day's engagement with Swaran, King of Lochlin of Scandinavia, fays to Carril, one of his bards, "Is this feaft fpread for me alone, and the King of "Lochlin on Ullin's fhore; far from the deer of his "hills, and founding halls of his feafts? Rife, Carril "of other times, and carry my words to Swaran; tell "him from the roaring of waters, that Cuchullin gives "his feaft. Here let him liften to the found of my groves amid the clouds of night: for cold and bleak "the bluftering winds rush over the foam of his feas. "Here let him praife the trembling harp, and hear "the fongs of heroes (s)." The Scandinavian King, lefs polished, refufed the invitation. Cairbar fpeaks: "Spread the feat on Lena, and let my hundred bards "attend. And thou, red-haird Olla, take the harp "of the King. Go to Ofcar, King of Swords, and "bid him to our feat. To-day we feaft and hear the "fong; to-morrow break the fpears (1)." "Olla "came with his fongs. Ofcar went to Cairbar's feast. "Three hundred heroes attend the chief, and the clang of their arms is terrible. The gray dogs bound "on the heath, and their howling is frequent. Fin-1 "gal faw the departure of the hero: the foul of the King was fad. He dreads the gloomy Cairbar; but "who of the race of Trenmor fears the foe (u) ?”

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Cruelty is every where condemned as an infamous vice. Speaking of the bards, "Cairbar feared to stretch "his fword to the bards, tho' his foul was dark; but "he clofed us in the midst of darkness. Three days we pined alone: on the fourth, the noble Cathmor came. He heard our voice from the cave, and turned

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(r) Calthon and Colmal. (s) Fingal, book 1, (†) Temora. (x) Temora.

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