The Scotish [sic] biographical dictionary. Being lives of eminent natives of Scotland / by William Anderson.

  • Anderson, William, 1805-1866.
Date:
1845
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Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: The Scotish [sic] biographical dictionary. Being lives of eminent natives of Scotland / by William Anderson. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    till a short time previous to Iiis death, he never again applied to study; he enjoyed no society or amusement; even music, of which he had been pas- sionately fond, lost its charms for him, and he answered few letters from his friends. Yet he would sometimes express resignation to his childless condition. “ How could I have borne,” he would feelingly say, “ to see their elegant minds mangled with mad- ness!” He had been all his life sub- ject to headaches, which sometimes interrupted his studies; but now his spirits and his constitution were en- tirely gone. In Ajjril llSfl he was I struck with palsy, and, after some pa- ralytic strokes, he died at Aberdeen, -August IS, 1803. His metaphysic.al writings are clear,lively, and attract- ive, but not profound, and the “ Es- say on Truth,” once so much read and admired, has now fallen into compara- tive neglect, from its merits having been much overrated at the time it appeared. His poem of the “ Min- I strel,” his “ Odes to lletirement and , Hope,” and his “Hermit,” will perpe- tuate his name as one of the most po- pular and 'pleasing poets of the eighteenth century, when his philo- sophical productions are no longer read. “Of all his poetical works,” says Sir William Forbes, “ the Min- strel is beyond all question the best, whether we consider the plan or the execution. The language is extreme- ly elegant, the versification harmo- nious ; it exhibits the richest poetic imagery, with a delightful flow of the most sublime, delicate, aird jiathetic sentiment. It breathes the spirit of the pure.st virtue, the soundest phi- losophy, and the most exquisite taste. In a word, it is at once highly conceiv- ed and admirably fini8he<l.” The de- scription.s of n.atural scenery in this fine poem arc not exceeded in beauty by any of his contemporaries. The following stanza w.as declared by Gray to bo “ true poetry I O ! how can's! thou ronoiinrc boundless utore I 67 The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even. All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven; O 1 how can’s! thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven 1 In private life Dr Be.attie was a man of amiable and unassuming manners ; and a warm attacbmont to the prin- ciples of morality and religion per- vades all his writings. His Life, by Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo, Bart., an old and intimate friend of bis, wliicli appeared in two volumes quar- to in 1806, contains some interesting selections from his private corre- spondence. In his latter years Dr Beattie was assisted in the duties of his professorship by his relation, Mr George Glennie, afterwards D.D., and one of the ministers of Aberdeen, who succeeded him. BEATTIE, James Hay, son of the preceding, was born at Aberdeen, No- vember 6, 1768. “ He bad reached his fifth or sixth year,” says his father, “knew the alphabet, and could read a little; but bad received no particular information with respect to the Au- thor of bis being; because I thought be could not yet understand such in- formation; and because I bad learnt from my own experience, that to be m.ade to repeat words not understood, is extremely detriment.al to the facul- ties of a young mind. In a corner of a little garden, without informing any person of the circumstance, I wrote in the mould with my finger tlio three initial letters of bis n.ame; and sowing garden cresses in the furrows, covered up the seed, and smoothed the ground. Ten d.ays after, be came running up to me, and with astoni.siimcnt in his conntcn.aiicc, told mo that bis name was growing in tlid garden. I smiled at the report, and seemed inclined to disregard it; but lie insisted on my going to see what bad happened. Yes, said T, carelessly, I see it is so; but there is nothing in this worth