Ossian Collection > Temora, an ancient epic poem, in eight books

An epic poem. 79
fiiielded king is near ; he that overcomes in danger j Fingal of the
fpears. — Spirit of departed Conmor, are thy fteps on the bofom of
winds ? Comeft thou, at times, to other lands, father of fad Sul-
malla ? Thou doft come, for I have heard thy voice at night ;
while yet I rofe on the wave to flreamy Inis-fail. The ghoft of
fathers, they fay *, can feize the fouls of their race, while they
behold them lonely in the midft of woe. Call me, my father,
when the king is low on earth ; for then I fhall be lonely in the-
midfl: of woe.
* Con-mor, the father of Sul malla,
was killed in that war, from which Cath-
mor delivered Inishuna. Lormar his Con
fucceeded Conmor. It was the opinion of
the times, when a perfon was reduced to a
pitch of mifery, which could admit of no
alleviation, that the ghofts of his anceflors
called bis foul avcay. This fupernatura!
kind of death was called ths vsice of the
dead; and is believed by the fuperflitious
vulgar to this day.
There is no pecple in the world, per-
haps, who gave more univerfal credit to
apparitions, and the vifits of the ghorts of
the deceafed to their friendsj than the com-
mon highlanders. This is to be attributed
as much, at leaft, to the fituation of the
country they poffefs, as to that credulous
difpofition which diftinguifhes an unen-
lightened people. As their bufincfs was
feeding of cattle, in dark and extenfive de-
farts, io their journeys lay over wide and
unfrequented heath?, where, often, they
were obliged to fleep in the open air, amidfl
the whiffling of winds, and roar of water-
falls. The gloominefs of the fcenes around
them was apt to beget that melancholy dif-
pofition of mind, which moft readily re-
ceives impreffions of the extraordinary and
fupernatural kind. Falling afleep in this
gloomy mood, and their dreams being dif-
turbed by the noife of the elements around,
it is no matter of wonder, that they thought
they heard the voice of the dead. This
voice of the dead, however, was, perhaps,
no more than a fbriller whiftle of the winds
in an old tree, or in the chinks of a neigh-
bouring rock. It is to this caufe I afcribe
thofe many and improbable tales of ghofls,
which we meet with in the highlands: for,
in other refpefls, we do not find that the
highlanders are more credulous than their
neighbours.
T E M O R A