[398:2] An early acquaintance with this characteristic, might have saved the present writer some fruitless investigations.
[399:1] There are two letters from Blacklock to Hume, remarkably characteristic of the timid and excitable character of the blind genius. After an exordium on the tone which he hopes their intercourse will maintain, full of nervous susceptibility; the fear of being too profuse in correspondence alternating with the dread that he may be thought cold, negligent, or ungrateful; he gives an account of the education of his pupil, Joseph, and then turns towards his own dark prospects.
"It was not indeed without some fear that I undertook the office. The vivacity of his disposition, and even the quickness of his genius, inspired me with terror that I should not be able to manage the one, or make any lasting impression upon the other. But how agreeable was my disappointment to find his temper, though lively, extremely amiable and flexible, and his apprehension, though quick, yet distinct and retentive. He applies with a diligence not often found in people of his age and character. As during this winter we had a pretty numerous family, most of whom were gentlemen of parts and spirit, I have seen numberless instances in which his passions, though warm and sensible, were governed with a discretion worthy of mature age and experience, yet in such a manner as to preserve his dignity, and betray no degree of complaisance unworthy of his spirit, or inconsistent with his ingenuity. You cannot imagine but such an object must pre-engage every susceptible heart. He is really admired by all the young gentlemen of our family who know him. I love him, and Mrs. Blacklock doats on him; yet there are not, perhaps, two in the human species who have it in their power to vex me in the same degree, if at any time he should be more remiss and careless than usual. He is now reading French with Monsr Cauvin, and the Satires of Horace, and Homer's Iliad, with me.
"Mr. Alexander's account of my situation, in general, was right. I have indeed got clear of a parish where I could have never been happy, even though their malice had been less implacable than I found it. But when I left that vindictive place, my poetical vanity was not quite extinguished; and it is natural for those who have felt the oppressive hand of unprovoked injury, to expect a kinder and more human reception, where civility, politeness, and gentler manners prevail. These sentiments, too sanguinely indulged, might perhaps have raised my hopes too high, and taught me to anticipate a greater degree of notice from the people of taste and learning in this place, than I have either obtained or deserved. Be that as it will, I am at present almost an absolute recluse; and when I meet with any of the virtuosi in public places, (where, indeed, I do not commonly appear,) their behaviour seems more cool and reserved than I could have thought. Not that all my self-importance can flatter me with any degree of merit in this way; but surely it was not unnatural to hope the enterprises which I attempted in the circumstances in which I was involved, might have attracted some degree of attention, and impressed some faint prepossessions in my favour, when not opposed by any vice or immorality in my character. For these reasons, as well as the private and disinterested attachment of my heart, you will naturally imagine the pleasure I feel from the prospect of your arrival in Edinburgh, and from my promised intercourse with one, who, though he might do honour to the republic of letters in any period, yet descends to honour me with the name of a Friend."
In the other letter, dated 2d May, 1767, he states that he has been overworking himself; and says, "My old nervous complaints have been like to return, and unhinge all our schemes; but, thank God, they are a little better again." He then details, with some minuteness, the reasons for feeling that his pecuniary prospects are precarious; and ascribes his exertions to his wish "to do something, if possible, for these approaching contingencies," which, he says, "the natural gloom" of his mind has made "not very distant." He continues:—
"You was so kind as hint your friendly intention towards a church settlement. That, I begin to think, I am unfit to encounter with again; for the ten thousand hardships and disagreeable things which I met with in my short but dear-bought experience of that kind of life, brought me a great way on in my journey down hill; so that if any one of them should again occur in another trial, I would certainly soon reach the foot of the precipice. This event is matter of no great thought to myself, but as it may concern one not undeservedly dear to me."
These letters are written with great precision, in a small, neat, regular hand; and, though duly signed, "Thos. Blacklock," it is clear that they cannot be the penmanship of their sightless author.
Appended to the second, and in a bolder and more masculine looking hand, is the following:—
"Mrs. Blacklock begs leave to offer her compliments to Mr. Hume, herself; and to supplicate some easy thing, if it can be procured, (without giving Mr. Hume much trouble,) for her friend, whom she has been a good deal apprehensive for this spring, by reason of his close study. Our college has acquired a new professor for natural history. Do you think one for poetry could be added, with a moderate salary to it?"—MSS. R.S.E.
[401:1] The dates of the births of John Home's children, as entered in the Kirk-session Record of Chirnside, are:—Joseph, 24th June, 1752; John, 21st April, 1754; Helen, 22d August, 1755; David, 27th February, 1757; John, 29th April, 1758; Catherine, 9th November, 1760; Agnes, 7th October, 1763; Agatha, 31st December, 1764. His wife was Agnes Carre, daughter of Robert Carre of Cavers, in Roxburghshire.