Note 59 — EDGAR, 74

There are not so many readers of Ossian now as there were a hundred years ago, and the description given of this Spirit may be novel. ‘Connal lay by the sound of the mountain stream, beneath the aged tree.... At distance from the heroes he lay; the son of the sword feared no foe. The hero beheld, in his rest, a dark-red stream of fire rushing down from the hill. Crugal sat upon the beam, a chief who fell in fight.... His face is like the beam of the setting moon. His robes are of the clouds of the hill. His eyes are two decaying flames. Dark is the wound of his breast....’—Fingal, ii.