ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED SON.

"May angels guard thee, dearest boy, with care,"
(Said the fond mother, with her daily prayer)
"Through happy paths securely mayst thou tread,
By sense, and health, and virtue, ever led;
May all thy future life give joy to me,
Supremely blest thy happiness to see ;
Grateful each day to lift my heart to heaven
With thanks for thee, my dearest blessing given."
Thus spoke the mother void of every fear,
And thus, a guardian Spirit, ever near :—
"O! sanguine parent! art thou not aware
That life is full of misery and care?

And must thy guardian angel warn thy mind,
That bitter grief and anguish thou wilt find:
Art thou exempt from sorrow? Or, what claim
Hast thou for any happiness supreme?

O full of imperfection, weak and vain,

If thou expect escape from grief and pain:
And, if thou art a mother and a wife,

Anticipate the common lot of life.

Of disappointment, many real woes,
Thy future life may hardly know repose:
Yet fear not; if thou trust in Truth Divine,
Eternal goodness, more or less, will shine
On all who feel assured that the Most High
Is infinite in power, and ever nigh.

To all who trust and hope, with love and fear,
Supreme Omniscience is ever near;
Be thou all Patience, never feel despair,
With steady fortitude support thy share
Of good and evil; say Thy will be done,
And trust His goodness when thy race is run,
Conscious of mercy from Almighty power
To strengthen, guide, and bless thy dying hour;
And thou shalt rise delighted to survey
The glorious goodness of immortal day."

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE, L.L.D.

JUDGE OF THE COURT OF KING'S BENCH.

THIS very illustrious lawyer was born in London, in June, 1723, after the death of his respected father. His mother also died soon after, and left four young children. But the goodness of divine Providence never did forsake the orphan, and particularly when parents were virtuous. The care of the education and fortune of young Blackstone fell to his maternal uncle, Thomas Bigge, Esq. of Chilton-Foliote, in Wiltshire, who placed his nephew in the Charter-House School, in 1730, and he was admitted there upon the foundation in 1735. At seven years of age he was a most promising boy. In November, 1738, he was entered a commoner of Pembroke College, Oxford, and elected by the Governors of the Charter-House to one of their exhibitions, in December that year; on which occasion, young Blackstone spoke with eloquence the Annual Oration of that school; and about the same time he obtained the gold prize medal for his fine verses on the talents of Milton. He had early in life been distinguished by both eloquence, good taste, and talents in poetry. He wrote verses on various subjects, some of which

were printed; yet he pursued his graver studies with great ardour, not only in the Greek, and Latin, and French authors, but also in logic and mathematics. He had also, at twenty-two years of age, written a Treatise on the Elements of Architecture, which he only intended for his own private use; but some friends who had perused it, and who were able judges of its merits, praised it highly. All this success and eclat did not fill the mind of the young man with vanity or self-conceit. He was endowed with great good sense, which would not listen to flattery, or even just praise, if it tended to mislead his mind from his profession. He had determined early to devote himself to the study of law. To prepare his mind for such grave, serious, and profound labour and mental exertion, he had very seriously reasoned with himself, convinced that the study of the laws of his country would be the surest road to fair fame and honour. Therefore, whatever regrets he had felt at renouncing the more cheerful and amusing pursuits of poetry, he resolved to write a final adieu to rhyme and verses. He wrote The Lawyer's Farewell to his Muse, which has been printed in the fourth volume of Dodsley's Collection. It is impossible to read these verses without feeling a lively sense of the struggle which the excellent Author must have had in his own mind, when he bade Farewell to Poetry, and all the rural pleasures which are combined with it. The decided proof of his talents for verse, which the following poem

exhibits, must strike every reader of good taste. It is a poem which every young lawyer should read, to fortify his resolution, and to impress upon his heart a just sense of the importance of his profession. He sees that the same great man who wrote the valuable Commentaries on the Laws of England, full of grave, profound, legal knowledge, had loved the more cheerful, light, and gay ideas of poetry. But he had wisdom to know that human life was a grave and serious affair. He was determined not to say with the Frenchman Vive la Bagatelle. Sir William Blackstone had elevated hopes of gaining high and honourable distinction by the study of

the law.

It is remarkable that no Biographical Memoir of this great man recorded his early talent for poetry, till Mr. Dodsley had inserted in his excellent volumes of Original Poetry, the following verses, which had been preserved by the family of Sir William Blackstone.

THE LAWYER'S FAREWELL TO HIS MUSE.

"As by some tyrant's stern command,

A wretch forsakes his native land,

In foreign climes condemn'd to roam
An endless exile far from home,
Pensive he treads the destin'd way,
Each step takes pleasure far away,
Till on some mountain's rugged brow
He stops, and turns his eye below;
There melted by the well-known view,
Drops the last tear, and says, "Adieu!

So I from thee, thus doom'd to part,
Gay queen of fancy, and of art,
Reluctant move, with doubtful mind,
Oft stop, and often look behind.

Companion of my tender age,

Serenely gay, and sweetly sage;

O, cheerful were we wont to rove
By verdant hill or shady grove;

How blest my days! my thoughts how free!
In sweet society with thee!

Then all was joyous, all was young,

And years unheeded roll'd along.

But now the pleasing dream is o'er,

These scenes must charm me now no more. Lost woods and fields, Ah! torn from you! Farewell! a long and last adieu !

Me wrangling courts and cities draw
To smoke, and crowds, and stubborn law.
Where selfish faction rules the day,
And pride and avarice throng the way;
Diseases taint the foggy air,

And midnight conflagrations glare ;
Audacious vice, and riot bold,

In frighted streets their empire hold;
Or where in silence, all are drown'd,
Fell murder walks his nightly round;
No room for poetry and you,
Adieu! celestial love, adieu!

I now must seek the close retreat,
Where law and justice keep their seat;
O let me pierce the sacred shade,
Where dwells the venerable maid;
O let me see the sacred ground
Where wise Minerva may be found,