produce conviction; and the first book of Fingal is selected for that purpose, being part of a poem, in the translation of which, it was supposed, that Macpherson had taken particular pains, and in which, some of the finest passages in Ossian are to be met with. Those who may wish to compare the English translation, with the original Gaelic, and with the Latin translation by Macfarlan, will find that book of Fingal at the commencement of the second volume. It is only necessary, therefore, in this place, to print opposite to each other, 1. Macpherson's translation; and 2. A new translation, done as literally from the original as is consistent with the language of poetry; after which, some observations will follow, for the purpose of ascertaining, how far the particulars above alluded to, regarding the inferiority of Macpherson's translation, can be proved, by a critical examination of this book of Fingal.

The new translation is executed by the Rev. Thomas Ross, now one of the ministers of the Scotch church in Rotterdam, by whom the original poems were transcribed for this publication.

It may be proper here to observe, that in the notes will be found a more literal translation of what has been already differently expressed

in the text. The words inclosed in parentheses (thus) ought always to be read, as they are necessary either to complete the sense, or to add to the perspicuity of the English version, though they are not to be found in the original Gaelic.

MACPHERSON'S TRANSLATION.

FROM THE CORRECTED EDITION OF 1773.

FINGAL.

BOOK I.

CUTHULLIN sat by Tura's wall:
By the tree of the rustling sound.
His spear leaned against a rock.
His shield lay on grass, by his side.
Amid his thoughts of mighty Cairbar,
A hero slain by the chief in war;
The scout of ocean comes,

Moran, the son of Fithil!

"Arise," says the youth, "Cuthullin, arise. "I see the ships of the north!

"Many the heroes of the sea-borne Swaran !"

"Moran," replied the blue-eyed chief,

"Thou ever tremblest, son of Fithil!

Thy fears have increased the foe.

"It is Fingal, king of desarts,

"With aid to green Erin of streams."

5

10

15

A NEW TRANSLATION FROM THE ORIGINAL GAELIC,

BY THE REV. THOMAS ROSS.

[The attention of the reader is particularly requested, to those passages in this translation which are printed in Italics, as clearly proving the superiority of the new translation.]

FINGAL.

BOOK I.

CUCHULLIN sat by the wall of Tura,
In the shade of a rustling tree;

His spear leaned against the rock of caves;
His great shield by his side on the grass.

The thoughts of the chief dwelt on Cairbar,*
A hero he had slain in war,

When the scout of the ocean came,
The swift, high-bounding son of Fithil.
"Rise! Cuchullin, rise!

"I see a mighty fleet from the north!
"Haste, haste, thou chief of the feast ;†
"Great is Swaran, numerous his host."

"Moran," replied the blue-eyed chief,
"Feeble thou art, and ever trembling :
"In thy fear the foe is numerous. ‡
"Son of Fithil, it is Fingal,

MACPHERSON'S TRANSLATION.

"I beheld their chief," says Moran,

"Tall as a glittering rock.

"His spear is a blasted pine.

"His shield the rising moon!

"He sat on the shore!

"Like a cloud of mist on the silent hill!

"Many are our hands of war.

“Well art thou named the Mighty Man:
"But many mighty men are seen
"From Tura's windy walls."

20

25

He spoke, like a wave on a rock, "Who in this land appears like me? "Heroes stand not in my presence:

30

"They fall to earth from my hand.

"Who can meet Swaran in fight?

"Who but Fingal, king of Selma of storms?

"Heroes stood at a distance, and trembled.

"On the fourth, Fingal says,

"That the king of the ocean fell!

"But Swaran says, he stood!

"Let dark Cuthullin yield to him,

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"That is strong as the storms of his land.!”