ARGUMENT TO BOOK I,

Cuthullin, (general of the Irish tribes, in the minority of Cormac, king of Ireland) sitting alone beneath a tree, at the gate of Tura, a castle of Ulster (the other chiefs having gone on a hunting party to Cromla, a neighbouring hill), is informed of the landing of Swaran, king of Lochlin, by Moran, the son of Fithil, one of his scouts. He convenes the chiefs; a council is held, and disputes run high, about giving battle to the enemy. Connal, the petty king of Togorma, and an intimate friend of Cuthullin, was for retreating till Fingal, king of those Caledonians who inhabited the north-west coast of Scotland, whose aid had been previously solicited, should arrive; but Calmar, the son of Matha, lord of Lara, a country in Connaught, was for engaging the enemy immediately. Cuthullin, of himself willing to fight, went into the opinion of Calmar. Marching towards the enemy, he missed three of his bravest heroes, Fergus, Duchomar, and Cathba. Fergus arriving, tells Cuthullin of the death of the other two chiefs; which introduces the affecting episode of Morna, the daughter of Cormac. The army of Cuthullin is descried at a distance by Swaran, who sent the son of Arno to observe the motions of the enemy, while he himself ranged his forces in order of battle. The son of Arno, returning to Swaran, describes to him Cuthullin's chariot, and the terrible appearance of that hero. The armies engage, but night coming on, leaves the victory undecided. Cuthullin, according to the hospitality of the times, sends to Swaran a formal invitation to a feast, by his bard Carril, the son of Kinfena. Swaran Carril relates to Cuthullin the story of

refuses to come.

Grudar and Brassolis. A party, by Connal's advice, is sent

to observe the enemy; which closes the action of the first day. MACPHERSON.

The opening of Fingal adheres strictly to the Horatian precept;

Semper ad eventum festinat; et in medias res,

Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit:

which Blair, with an evasive simplicity, terms a most happy coincidence of thought. But the supposed translator maintains, that "there are certain general rules in the conduct of an epic poem, which, as they are natural, are therefore universal; and in these the two poets (Homer and Ossian) exactly correspond."-Temora, viii. Note.

As a siege, or voyage, of ten years duration, was incompatible with an epic poem, intended for public recitation, Homer himself was reduced to the necessity of selecting the most important event for the Iliad, and the most important period of the voyage for the Odyssey; in which last alone, the narrative of preceding transactions is introduced, as an episode. Succeeding epic poets, from Virgil to Milton, have adopted the same rule from imitation, and begin invariably in the midst of things. That the rule itself is neither universal nor obviously natural, appears from the opposite conduct, not only of the Cyclic poets, and of every rhyming chronicler in the dark ages, but of Apollonius Rhodius, who adheres to the regular course of events, and of Ariosto and Spenser, who, neglecting Homer, pursue some fantastical plan of their Trissino and Tasso were the first moderns who revived the classical model of epic poetry, the chief excellence of which is, not that it is natural or obvious, and therefore universal, but that it is the best, and most artificial arrangement which it is possible to conceive. The arrangement most natural and obvious, perhaps, to the genuine Ossian, if not the origin of the war with Swaran, of which we are still ignorant, was Cuthullin's application to Fingal for aid; the voyage of the latter to

own.

5

Ireland; his arrival there on the defeat of his friends; in short, the transactions which the poet himself had witnessed, not those of which he had heard from others. But the supposed translator, to whom, in arranging his " brief Epic," all parts of the poem were equally present, begins abruptly in the middle, with Cuthullin reclined under Tura's wall; and invokes no muse, because, says Blair, he acknowledges none. He invokes no muse in the Highlander, which, if the first six lines were retrenched, would begin abruptly like Fingal, without any formal introduction of the subject; and, "The man I sing," the common exordium of epic poems, would have betrayed as plain imitation as the invocation of a muse.