We cannot but respect the
vigorous faith of those heathen, who sternly believed somewhat,
and are inclined to say to the critics, who are offended by their
superstitious rites,--Don't interrupt these men's prayers. As if
we knew more about human life and a God, than the heathen and
ancients. Does English theology contain the recent discoveries!
Ossian reminds us of the most refined and rudest eras, of Homer,
Pindar, Isaiah, and the American Indian. In his poetry, as in
Homer's, only the simplest and most enduring features of humanity
are seen, such essential parts of a man as Stonehenge exhibits of
a temple; we see the circles of stone, and the upright shaft
alone. The phenomena of life acquire almost an unreal and
gigantic size seen through his mists. Like all older and grander
poetry, it is distinguished by the few elements in the lives of
its heroes. They stand on the heath, between the stars and the
earth, shrunk to the bones and sinews. The earth is a boundless
plain for their deeds. They lead such a simple, dry, and
everlasting life, as hardly needs depart with the flesh, but is
transmitted entire from age to age.
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