ain oaks shall roar,
The mountain rocks shall fall his face before,
As by the lightning's gleam his form is spied
Stalking from hill to hill with giant stride.
More terrible in fight my father seemed
When in his hand of might his weapon gleamed,
On his own youth the king with gladness thought
When in the furious highland wars he fought.--_Fingal B. III._

The notion that Ossian drew in part, at least from real life, is
favoured by the wonderful calmness and absence of effort evinced in
delineating so great a character. Expressions that go far to heighten
our admiration of Fingal are employed in a quiet matter of course way.
"The silence of the king is terrible," is an expressive sentence. Or
this again, "The heroes ... looked in silence on each other marking the
eyes of Fingal."

Nor are the gentler feelings less fully brought out in Ossian's
favourite character. Nothing could speak more for his affability than
the attachment shown by his followers. "Fear, like a vapour winds not
among the host! for he, the king, is near; the strength of streamy
Selma. Gladness brightens the hero. We hear his words with joy."[A]

Gallantry and philanthropy we might expect to find in his composition,
but the tenderness he frequently displays strikes us as remarkable in an
uncivilized chief. His lamentation over the British city on the Clyde is
as pathetic as any similar passage in our language.

Another surprising trait is the generosity he invariably displays to his
vanquished foes. All the more surprising is it that a "savage" should
show magnanimity when the heroes of civilized Greece, Rome, and Judea,
counted it virtuous to torture their captured enemies. "None ever went
sad from Fingal," he says himself. Over and over he is represented as
lamenting the death of enemies when they fall, or granting them freedom
and his friendship when they yield--"Come to my hill of feasts," he says
to his wounded opponent Cathmor, "the mighty fail at times. No fire am I
to lowlaid foes. I rejoice not over the fall of the brave."

A notable fact about Fingal is, that though he lived in times of war, in
disposition he was a man of peace. "Fingal delights not in battle though
his arm is strong." "When will Fingal cease to fight?" he complains, "I
was born in the midst of battles, and my steps must move in blood to the
tomb." Under the influence of this desire for peace he formally gave up
his arms to Ossian--

My