Then in England people began to say that there never had been an Ossian at all, and that Macpherson had invented both the poems and all the people that they were about.  For the English knew little of the Highlanders and their customs.  Even after the ’15 and the ’45 people in the south knew little about the north and those who lived there.  They thought of it as a land of wild mountains and glens, a land of mists and cloud, a land where wild chieftains ruled over still wilder clans, who, in their lonely valleys and sea-girt islands, were for ever warring against each other.  How could such a people, they asked, a people of savages, make beautiful poetry?

Dr. Samuel Johnson, a great writer of whom we shall hear more later, was the man of his day whose opinion about books was most thought of.  He hated Scotland and the Scottish folk, and did not believe that any good thing could come from them.  He read the poems and said that they were rubbish, such as any child could write, and that Macpherson had made them all up.

So a quarrel, which has become famous, began between the two men.  And as Dr. Johnson was far better known than Macpherson, most people agreed with him and believed that Macpherson had told a “literary lie,” and that he had made up all the stories.

There is no harm in making up stories.  Nearly every one who writes does that.  But it is wrong to make up stories and then pretend that they were written by some one else more famous than yourself.

Dr. Johnson and Macpherson were very angry with and rude to each other.  Still that did not settle the question as to who had written the stories; indeed it has never been settled.  And what most men believe now is that Macpherson did really gather from among the people of the Highlands many scraps of ancient poetry and tales, but that he added to them and put them together in such a way as to make them beautiful and touching.  To do even that, however, a true poet was needed, so people have, for the most part, given up arguing about whether Macpherson wrote Ossian or not, and are glad that such a beautiful book has been written by some one.

I do not think that you will want to read Ossian for yourself for a long time to come, for the stories are not always easy to follow.  They are, too, often clumsy, wandering, and badly put together.  But in spite of that there is much beauty in them, and some day I hope you will read them.

In the next chapter you will find one of the stories of Ossian called Fingal.  Fingal was a great warrior and the father of Ossian, and the story takes place in Ireland.  It is told partly in Macpherson’s words.

Chapter V THE STORY OF FINGAL

“Cathullin sat by TURA’s wall, by the tree of the rustling sound.  His spear leaned against a rock.  His shield lay on grass, by his side.  And as he thus sat deep in thought a scout came running in all haste and cried, ’Arise!  Cathullin, arise!  I see the ships of the north.  Many, chief of men, are the foe!  Many the heroes of the sea-born Swaran!’