Sharp often reminds one of Heine, with his intensely human love of life,
both in its brightness and in its darkness. Where that love is so
intense as it was in these hearts, it is almost inevitable that it
should sometimes eclipse the sense of the divine. Thus Sharp tells us
that "Celtic paganism lies profound still beneath the fugitive drift of
Christianity and civilisation, as the deep sea beneath the coming and
going of the tides." He was indeed so aware of this underlying paganism,
that we find it blending with Christian ideas in practically the whole
of his work. Nothing could be quoted as a more distinctive note of his
genius than that blend. It is seen perhaps most clearly in such stories
as _The Last Supper_ and _The Fisher of Men_. In these tales of
unsurpassable power and beauty, Fiona Macleod has created the Gaelic
Christ. The Christ is the same as He of Galilee and of the Upper Room in
Jerusalem, and His work the same. But he talks the sweet Celtic
language, and not only talks it but _thinks_ in it also. He walks among
the rowan trees of the Shadowy Glen, while the quiet light flames upon
the grass, and the fierce people that lurk in shadow have eyes for the
helplessness of the little lad who sees too far.
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