ghlands, are forgeries, Smith's Ossianic poems,
which, according to his account, were also collected in the Highlands,
must be also forged, and have been imitated from those published by the
other. Now as it is well known that Smith did not possess sufficient
poetic power to produce any imitation of Macpherson's Ossian, with a
tenth part the merit which the "Sean Dana" possess, and that even if he
had possessed it, his principles would not have allowed him to attempt to
deceive the world by imposing forgeries upon it, as the authentic poems
of another, he being a highly respectable clergyman, the necessary
conclusion is that the Ossianic poems which both published are genuine,
and collected in the manner in which both stated they were."

After a little more discourse about Ossian, the old gentleman asked me if
there was any good modern Gaelic poetry. "None very modern," said I:
"the last great poets of the Gael were Macintyre and Buchanan, who
flourished about the middle of the last century. The first sang of love
and of Highland scenery; the latter was a religious poet. The best piece
of Macintyre is an ode to Ben Dourain, or the Hill of the Water-dogs--a
mountain in the Highlands. The master-piece of Buchanan is his La
Breitheanas or Day of Judgment, which is equal in merit, or nearly so, to
the Cywydd y Farn, or Judgment Day of your own immortal Gronwy Owen.
Singular that the two best pieces on the Day of Judgment should have been
written in two Celtic dialects, and much about the same time; but such is
the fact."

"Really," said the old church clerk, "you seem to know something of
Celtic literature."

"A little," said I; "I am a bit of a philologist; and when studying
languages dip a little into the literature which they contain."

As I had heard him say that he had occasionally given lessons in the
Welsh language, I inquired whether any of his pupils had made much
progress in it. "The generality," said he, "soon became tired of its
difficulties, and gave it up without making any progress at all. Two or
three got on tolerably well. One, however, acquired it in a time so
short that it might be deemed marvellous. He was an Oxonian, and came
down with another in the vacation in order to study hard against the
yearly collegiate examination. He and his friend took lodgings at
Pengwern Hall, then a farm-house, and studied and walked about for some
time, as other young men from college, who come down here, are