It is this which gives its peculiar
charm and spell to Celtic folklore in general. The Saxon song of Beowulf
is a rare song, and its story is the swinging tale of a "pagan gentleman
very much in the rough," but for the most part it is quite destitute of
spiritual significance. It may be doubted if this could be said truly of
any Celtic tale that was ever told. Fiona Macleod describes _The Three
Marvels_ as "studies in old religious Celtic sentiment, so far as that
can be recreated in a modern heart that feels the same beauty and
simplicity in the early Christian faith"; and there is a constant sense
that however wild and even wicked the tale may be, yet it has its
Christian counterpart, and is in some true sense a strayed idealism.
At this point we become aware of one clear distinction between William
Sharp and Fiona Macleod. To him, literature was a craft, laboured at
most honestly and enriched with an immense wealth both of knowledge and
of cleverness; but to her, literature was a revelation, with divine
inspirations behind it--inspirations authentically divine, no matter by
what name the God might be called.
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