NOVEMBER. 305 



recess, filled with books, and, amongst them, upon 

 Ossian ; and if I remember any hours of peculiar 

 enjoyment, I do those thus occupied. The days 

 and feelings of my boyhood are at once brought 

 back again. I connect the scenes and the heroes of 

 the " Voice of Cona" in some mysterious manner 

 with the memory of those with whom I was wont 

 to admire them ; and am snatched from a world of 

 cold calculation and selfishness, in which we all 

 too willingly participate, to one of glory and gene- 

 rosity. We are often asked wherein consists the 

 peculiar charm of Ossian. It is in the graceful 

 delicacy and refined affection of his female charac- 

 ters ; the reckless bravery, lofty sentiment, and 

 generous warmth of his warriors, and the wildness 

 of the scenery in which they dwell. We are 

 delighted to find his lovely and noble beings on 

 their rude heaths, or in their rude halls, exhibiting a 

 poetical refinement of mind far transcending the 

 tone of modern society, with all the beautiful set-off 

 of the simplicity of ancient manners. And then, 

 what a pathos is in their sorrows ! The harp of 

 Ossian is truly a " harp of sorrow." It breathes 

 perpetually of melancholy tenderness. It is the 

 voice of age lamenting over departed glory over 

 beauty and strength cut down in their prime ; and 

 it comes to us from the dimness of antiquity, and 

 from a land of hills and woods, of mists and meteors, 

 from the heath of mossy and gray stones, the 

 roaring of mountain-streams, the blasted tree, the 

 withered leaves, and the thistle's beard, that flies on 

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