Ossian Collection > Authenticity of the poems of Ossian

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are traditions which, I am aware, some would distort
from their natural bearing-, to make of them the foun-
dation on which the iujposture (still persisted in) was
based, but wliicli, in my opinion, speak the other
way ; for if traditions are to go for anything, it must
be for that which they imply. Fionnghal an righ —
Fingal the king. Fionnghal more — great Fingal. Cho
treun ri Fionnghal — as mighty as Fin<j:al. Cho glic
ri Fionnghal — as wise as Fingal. Ossian Mac Fhionngal
— Ossian the son of Fingal. Ossian dall — blind
Ossian. Ossian am bard — Ossian the bard. Cho
binn ri Ossian — as sweet as Ossian.
These are sayings that may still be heard on the
lips of old people in the Highlands, who know little of
English, and never heard of MTherson nor his trans-
lation. Now, depend on it, these sayings testify truly
of the existence, at some far removed ])eriod, of such
men who must also have been characterized by the
qualities thus ascribed to them. Observe the virtues
attributed to each are very distinct and definite.
Fingal is great, and strong, and wise, such as a
leader of his people in war, and a ruler of them in
peace, was likely to have been. Ossian, on the other
hand, is not distinguished by any of these regal quali-
ties. He is simply a great, a sweet, melodious bard.
It is agonizing to think that it should come to this.
That these slender records should be all that remain
of the renowned of . their day ; but they convey a
great amount of meaning. Both the names and deeds
of the subordinate characters of their times are blotted
out, erased from the scroll of fame. But these two
names, and the qualities that respectively belonged to
them, tradition will hold by, albeit it should be in
nursery ejaculations, to frighten fretful children — a
purpose to which, I know, they are at this day applied
in the sister isle.
We go next to those from whom the poems were
collected, and the uniform testimony we receive is, that
they held them as the compositions of Ossian, the son
of Fingal.
We have thus far threaded our way through the
long night of tradition, with only one or two small
stars — small, owing to the distance through which
they send their light — to guide us ; but the east
brightens — the sun is up with his eftulgent beams.
The poems have burst on our astonished gaze, reveal-