Fingal, an Ancient Epic Poem, in six books, with other lesser poems. This he followed in the next year with Temora, an Epic Poem, in eight books, with other poems. Of the tremendous literary controversy to which these publications at once gave rise, it is impossible here to give an account. They were published at a time when, owing to the recent terrors of the Raid to Derby, everything Scottish was anathema in the metropolis, and when Dr. Johnson, with his violent anti-Scottish prejudices, reigned supreme in the coffee-houses. Further, they appeared under the patronage of the head of an unpopular administration. But for these circumstances there would probably have been no uproar, and but for Macpherson's false self-pride the uproar might have been immediately silenced. Both sides, however, appear to have lost temper, and the result was confusion. The final judgment of experts on the subject, backed by the evidence of more recent collections of poetry made in the Highlands, appears to be that Macpherson's translations are in the main authentic, though liberties may have been taken here and there in matters of detail. The poems of Ossian, as they were called, were immediately translated into every continental language, and the reputation of Macpherson may be said to have become European. The rest of his career was that of the prosperous man of letters of his time. In 1764 he went out to Pensacola as private secretary to the Governor. A difference, however, arising, he gave up the position, made a tour through the West India Islands, and returned to London in 1766 with a pension of £200 a year. In 1771 he published a volume of Gaelic antiquities under the title of An Introduction to the History of Great Britain and Ireland, and two years later, in the style of his Ossian, a somewhat hasty translation of Homer's Iliad. Both of these were attacked with much virulence, and regarding the latter, Johnson remarked that " Macpherson's abilities, since his Homer, are not so formidable." For his History of Great Britain, from the Restoration to the Accession of the House of Hanover, with its companion volumes of Original Papers, he is said to have received the sum of £3000. Government also employed him to write two pamphlets in defence of their action in the dispute and rupture with America. And on being appointed agent in Britain for the Nabob of Arcot, he was provided with a seat in Parliament. Failing at last in health, he retired to Belleville, a mansion he had built in his native district on Speyside, and there he died in February, 1796. He was buried in Westminster Abbey. THE EARL MARISCHAL'S WELCOME TO HIS NATIVE COUNTRY.* 'TWAS when the full-eared harvest bowed Beneath the merry reaper's hand; When here the plenteous sheaves were strewed, When on each side the loadened ground, Breathing her ripened scents, the joval season crowned; The villagers, all on the green, Th' arrival of their lord attend; The blithesome shepherds haste to join, Once more to bless his native plains. * George, 10th Earl Marischal of Scotland, Lord Keith and Altre, forfeited after the Rebellion of 1715, became Governorgeneral to the King of Prussia of the principalities of Neufchatel and Vallenguin. An Act of Parliament was passed to enable him to inherit the estate of John, Earl of Kintore, of whom he was heir, in 1762. Each hoary sire, with gladdened face, How he with Tyrcis at the chase Their hoary heads with rapture glow, While each to each repeats How well he knew where to bestow, Was to oppression still a foe; Still mixing with their praise his youthful feats. Then from the grass Melanthus rose, The arbitrator of the plains, And silent all stood fixed to hear The Tityrus of Mernia's swains. For with the Muse's fire his bosom glowed, "Now the wished-for day is come, Dunnottar's towers resound the peal That echoes o'er the hill and dale. At length, what time the ploughman leads At yon old tree the roebuck fell: The huntsmen's jocund mingled shouts his downfall tell. "The mem'ry of those happy days Still in my breast must transport raise— Thus as he spoke, each youthful breast In each eye rapture stands confessed; And manages the fiery steed, And hears the beagles' cries. The sage Melanthus now again Stretched forth his hand, and thus resumed the strain. "Now my youthful heat returns, My breast with youthful vigour burns. Methinks I see that glorious day When, to hunt the fallow-deer, Three thousand marched in grand array, Three thousand marched with bow and spear, All in the light and healthy dress Our brave forefathers wore In Kenneth's wars and Bruce's days, And when the Romans fled their dreadful wrath of yore. "O'er every hill, o'er every dale, All by the winding banks of Tay, Resounds the hunter's cheerful peal; Their armour glittered to the day." Big with his joys of youth the old man stood. Dunnottar's ruined towers then caught his eye; He stopped and hung his head in pensive mood, And from his bosom burst the unbidden sigh. Then turning, with a warrior look, Shaking his hoary curls the old man spoke. 66 Virtue, O Fortune! scorns thy power; Thou canst not bind her for an hour! Virtue shall ever shine; And endless praise, her glorious dower, The kings of th' earth, with open arms, See warlike Cyrus,† great and wise, And all his breast unveil. * The Earl Marischal and his brother James, one of the most distinguished generals of the age. + Frederick, King of Prussia. |