instruct in philosophy and the languages. Shortly after, the University of Aberdeen conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. In 1767, he published a work entitled Consolation, deduced from Natural and Revealed Religion. In 1773, he published a satirical poem at Edinburgh, in 8vo. He was also the author of a heroic ballad, in four cantos. It may not be generally known that the article "Blind," in the Encyclopedia Britannica, published in 1783, was written by him. He died in 1791, in the seventieth year of his age, and was interred in the burying-ground of Ease Chapel.
"Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest!
Bless'd in thy genius, in thy love, too, bless'd!”
We cannot place before our readers a richer literary feast, than our poet's beautiful soliloquy, copied from his Edinburgh edition:
Occasioned by the author's escape from falling into a deep well where he must have been irrecoverably lost, if a favorite lap-dog had not, by the sound of its feet upon the board with which the well was covered, warned him of danger.
แ "Quid quisque viret, nunquam homini satis
Cautum est in horus."
WHERE am I-O Eternal Power of Heaven!
Relieve me; or, amid the silent gloom,
Can Danger's cry approach no generous ear,
Prompt to redress the unhappy? O my heart!
What shall I do, or whither shall I turn?
Will no kind hand, benevolent as Heaven,
Save me, involv'd in peril and in night?
Erect with horror stands my bristling hair;
My tongue forgets its motion; strength forsakes
My trembling limbs; my voice, impell'd in vain,
No passage finds; cold, cold as death, my blood,
Keen as the breath of winter, chills each vein.
For on the verge, the awful verge of fate
Scarce fix'd I stand; and one progressive step
Had plunged me down, unfathomably deep
To gulfs impervious to the cheerful sun
And fragrant breeze; to that abhorr'd abode,
Where Silence and Oblivion, sisters drear!
With cruel Death confed'rate empire hold,
In desolation and primeval gloom.
Ha! What unmans me thus? What, more than horror, Relaxes every nerve, untunes my frame,
And chills my inmost soul?-Be still, my heart!
Nor fluttering thus in vain attempt to burst
The barrier firm, by which thou art confin'd,
Resume your functions, limbs! restrain those knees
From smiting thus each other. Rouse, my soul!
Assert thy native dignity, and dare
To brave this king of terrors; to confront
His cloudy brow, and unrelenting frown,
With steady scorn, in conscious triumph bold.
Reason that beam of uncreated day,
That ray of Deity by God's own breath
Infus'd and kindled, reason will dispel
Those fancied terrors: reason will instruct thee,
That death is Heaven's kind interposing hand,
To snatch thee timely from impending woe;
From aggregated misery, whose pangs
Can find no other period but the grave.
For, oh! while others gaze on Nature's face,
The verdant vale, the mountains, woods and streams;
Or, with delight ineffable, survey
The sun, bright image of his parent God;
The seasons, in majestic order, round
This varied globe revolving; young-eyed Spring,
Profuse of life and joy; Summer, adorn'd
With keen effulgence, brightening heaven and earth;
Autumn, replete with Nature's various boon,
To bless the toiling hind; and Winter, grand
With rapid storms, convulsing Nature's frame:
Whilst others view heaven's all-involving arch,
Bright with unnumber'd worlds; and lost in joy,
Fair Order and Utility behold;
Or, unfatigued, the amazing chain pursue,
Which in one vast, all-comprehending whole,
Unites th' immense, stupendous works of God,
Conjoining part with part, and through the frame
Diffusing sacred harmony and joy ;
To me those fair vicissitudes are lost,
And grace and beauty blotted from my view.
The verdant vale, the mountains, woods, and streams,
One horrid blank appear; the young-eyed Spring,
Effulgent Summer, Autumn decked in wealth
To bless the toiling hind, and Winter grand
With rapid storms, revolve in vain for me:
Nor the bright sun, nor all-embracing arch
Of heaven, shall e'er these wretched orbs behold.
O Beauty, Harmony! ye sister train
Of graces; you, who, in th' admiring eye
Of God your charms displayed, ere yet transcrib'd
On Nature's form, your heavenly features shone,
Why are you snatched forever from my sight,
Whilst in your stead, a boundless waste expanse
Of undistinguish'd horror covers all !
Wide o'er my prospect rueful darkness breathes
Her inauspicious vapor; in whose shade,
Fear, Grief, and Anguish, natives of her reign,
In social sadness, gloomy vigils keep:
With them I walk, with them still doom'd to share
Eternal blackness, without hope of dawn.
Hence, oft the hand of Ignorance and Scorn,
To barbarous Mirth abandon'd, points me out
With idiot grin: the supercilious eye
Oft, from the noise and glare of prosperous life;
On my obscurity diverts its gaze,
Exulting, and, with wanton pride elate,
Felicitates its own superior lot:
Inhuman triumph! Hence the piercing taunt
Of titled insolence inflicted deep.
Hence the warm blush that paints ingenuous shame,
By conscious want inspir'd; th' unpitied pang
Of love and friendship slighted. Hence the tear
Of impotent compassion, when the voice
Of pain, by others felt, quick smites my heart,
And rouses all its tenderness in vain.
All these, and more, on this devoted head,
Have with collected bitterness been pour'd.
Nor end my sorrows here. The sacred fane
Of knowledge, scarce accessible to me,
With heart-consuming anguish I behold;
Knowledge, for which my soul insatiate burns
With ardent thirst. Nor can these useless hands,
Untutored in each life-sustaining art,
Nourish this wretched being, and supply
Frail nature's wants, that short cessation know.
Where now, ah! where is that supporting arm
Which to my weak, unequal infant steps,
Its kind assistance lent?* Ah! where that love,
That strong assiduous tenderness, which watch'd
My wishes yet scarce form'd; and to my view,
Unimportun'd, like all-indulging Heav'n,
Their objects brought? Ah! where that gentle voice
* Which, with instruction, soft as summer dews
Or fleecy snows, descending on my soul,
Distinguish'd every hour with new delight?
Ah! where that virtue, which amid the storms
The mingled horrors of tumultuous life,
Untainted, unsubdued, the shock sustain'd?
So firm the oak which, in eternal night,
As deep its root extends, as high to Heaven
Its top majestic rises; such the smile
Of some benignant angel, from the throne
Of God dispatch'd, ambassador of peace;
*The character here drawn is that of the author's father, whoso unforeseen fate had just before happened: he was killed by the fall of a malt kiln.
Who on his look impress'd his message bears,
And pleas'd, from earth averts impending ill.
Alas! no wife thy parting kisses shar'd;
From thy expiring lips no child receiv'd
Thy last, dear blessing, and thy last advice.
Friend, father, benefactor, all at once,
In thee forsook me, an unguarded prey
For every storm, whose lawless fury roars
Beneath the azure concave of the sky,
To toss, and on my head exhaust its rage.
Dejecting prospect! soon the hapless hour
May come; perhaps this moment it impends,
Which drives me forth to penury and cold,
Naked, and beat by all the storms of heaven,
Friendless and guideless to explore my way;
Till on cold earth this poor unshelter'd head
Reclining, vainly from the ruthless blast
Respite I beg, and in the shock expire.
Me miserable! wherefore, O my soul!
Was, on such hard conditions, life desir'd?
One step, one friendly step, without thy guilt;
Had plac'd me safe in this profound recess,
Where, undisturb'd, eternal quiet reigns,
And sweet forgetfulness of grief and care.
Why, then, my coward soul! didst thou recoil?
Why shun the final exit of thy woe?
Why shiver at approaching dissolution?
Say, why, by nature's unresisted force,
Is every being, where volition reigns
And active choice, impell'd to shun their fate,
And dread destruction as the worst of ills;
Say, why they shrink, why fly, why fight, why risk
Precarious life, to lengthen out its state,
Which, lengthen'd, is at best protracted pain?
Say, by what mystic charms, can life allure
Unnumber'd beings, who, beneath me far
Plac'd in th' extensive scale of nature, want
Those blessings Heaven accumulates on me!
Blessings superior; though the blaze of day
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