stance, no misfortune. By the patronage of the Earl of Selkirk, he was presented to the living of Kirkudbright; but, in consequence of the violent objections that were made by the parishioners to having a blind man for their clergyman, he resigned the living, and accepted of a small annuity in its stead. With this slender provision, he returned to Edinburgh ; and subsisted, for the rest of his life, by taking young gentlemen as boarders in his house, whom he occasionally assisted in their studies.

He published an interesting article on Blindness in the Encyclopædia Britannica, and a work entitled “ Paraclesis, or Consolations of Religion,” in two dissertations, the one original, the other translated from a work which has been sometimes ascribed to Cicero, but which is more generally believed to have been written by Vigonius of Padua. He died of a nervous fever, at the age of seventy.

Blacklock was a gentle and social being, but prone to melancholy; probably more from constitution than from the circumstance of his blindness, which he so often and so deeply deplores. From this despondent disposition he sought refuge in conversation and music. He was a tolerable performer on the flute, and used to carry a flageolet in his pocket, on which he was not displeased to be solicited for a tune.

His verses are extraordinary for a man blind from his infancy; but Mr. Henry Mackenzie, in his elegant biographical account of him, has certainly over-rated his genius : and when Mr. Spence, of Oxford, submitted Blacklock's descriptive powers as a problem for metaphysicians to resolve, he attributed to his writings a degree of descriptive strength which they do not possess. Denina' carried exó aggeration to the utmost when he declared, that Blacklock would seem a fable to posterity, as he had been a prodigy to his contemporaries. It is no doubt curious, that his memory should have retained so many forms of expression for things which he had never seen; but those who have conversed with intelligent persons, who have been blind from their infancy, must have often remarked in them a familiarity of language respecting the objects of vision which, though not easy to be accounted for, will be found sufficiently common to make the rhymes of Blacklock' appear far short of marvellous. Blacklock, on more than one occasion, betrays something like marks of blindness.

THE AUTHOR'S PICTURE.

While in my matchless graces wrapt I stand,
And touch each feature with a trembling hand;
Deign, lovely self! with art and nature's pride,
To mix the colours, and the pencil guide.

Self is the grand pursuit of half mankind:
How vast a crowd by self, like me, are blind!

In his Discorso della Literatura.

... - VOL. VÍ.

By self the fop in magic colours shown, . ::
Though scorn’d by ev'ry eye, delights his own:
When age and wrinkles seize the conqu’ring maid,
Self, not the glass, reflects the flatt'ring shade.
Then, wonder-working self! begin the lay;
Thy charms to others as to me display.

Straight is my person, but of little size;
Lean are my cheeks, and hollow are my eyes :
My youthful down is, like my talents, rare;
Politely distant stands each single hair. .'.
My voice too rough to charm a lady's ear;
So smooth a child may listen without fear;
Not form'd in cadence soft and warbling lays, '
To sooth the fair through pleasure's wanton ways.
My form so fine, so regular, so new,
- My port so manly, and so fresh my hue;
Oft, as I meet the crowd, they laughing say,
“ See, see Memento Mori cross the way.”
The ravish'd Proserpine at last, we know,
Grew fondly jealous of her sable beau;
But thanks to nature! none from me need Ay,
One heart the devil could wound—90 cannot I.

Yet, though my person fearless may be seen, There is some danger in my graceful mien: For, as some vessel toss'd by wind and tide, Bounds o'er the waves, and rocks from side to

side; dis , In just vibration thus I always move: This who can view and not be forc'd to love?

Hail! charming self! by whose propitious aid My form in all its glory stands display'd: Be present still; with inspiration kind, Let the same faithful colours paint the mind.

Like all mankind, with vanity I'm bless’d, Conscious of wit I never yet possess'd. To strong desires my heart an easy prey, Oft feels their force, but never owns their sway. This hour, perhaps, as death I hate my foe; The next I wonder why I should do so. Though poor, the rich I view with careless eye; Scorn a vain oath, and hate a serious lie. I ne'er for satire torture common sense; Nor. show my wit at God's nor man's expense. Harmless I live, unknowing and unknown; Wish well to all, and yet do good to none. Unmerited contempt I hate to bear; Yet on my faults, like others, am severe. Dishonest flames my bosom never fire; The bad I pity, and the good admire: . Fond of the Muse, to her devote my days, : And scribble--not for pudding, but for praise.

These careless lines, if any virgin hears, Perhaps, in pity to my joyless years, «ix. She may consent a gen'rous flame to own ; And I no longer sigh the nights alone. But, should the fair, affected, vain, or nice, Scream with the fears inspir!d by frogs or mice; Cry,“ save us, heav'n! a spectre, not a man!” Her hartshorn snatch, or interpose her fan:

If I my tender overture repeat;
0! may my vows her kind reception meet!
May she new graces on my form bestow,
And with tall honours dignify.my brow!

ODE TO AURORA.

ON MELISSA'S BIRTH-DAY.

Of time and nature eldest born,
Emerge, thou rosy-finger'd morn,
Emerge, in purest dress array'd,
And chase from Heav'n night's envious shade,
That I once more may, pleas’d, survey,
And hail Melissa's natal day.

Of time and nature eldest born,
Emerge, thou rosy-finger'd morn:
In order at the eastern gate
The Hours to draw thy chariot wait ;
Whilst Zephyr, on his balmy wings,
Mild nature's fragrant tribute brings,
With odours sweet to strew thy way,
And grace the bland, revolving day.

But as thou lead'st the radiant sphere,
That gilds its birth, and marks the year,
And as his stronger glories rise,
Diffus'd around th' expanded skies,