I came to think of the loss of time a newspaper every day would occasion to my people, I considered it would be very wrong of me to send you any at all. For I do not think that honest folks in a far off country-parish, should make or meddle with the things that pertain to government, the more especially, as it is well known, that there is as much falsehood as truth in newspapers, and they have not the means of testing the statements. Not, however, that I am an advocate for passive obedience, God forbid, on the When Mr Snodgrass had perused this epistle, he paused sometime, seemingly in doubt, and then he said to Mr Micklewham, that, considering the view which the doctor had taken of the matter, and that he had not gone to the play-house for the motives which usually take bad people to such places, he thought there could be no possible harm in reading the letter to the elders, and that Mr Craig, so far from being displeased, would doubtless be exceedingly rejoiced to learn, that the play-houses of London were occasionally so well employed as on the night when the doctor was there. Mr Micklewham then inquired if Mr Snodgrass had heard from Mr Andrew, and was answered in the affirmative; but the letter was not read. Why it was withheld, our readers must guess for themselves; but the following copy was obtained by Mr M'Gruel, when, in the course of the week, he called at the manse, to inquire respecting the health and welfare of the reverend doctor and his worthy family. LETTER XVII. Andrew Pringle, Esq. to the Rev. Mr Charles Snodgrass. MY DEAR FRIEND, As the season advances, London gradually unfolds, like nature, all the variety of her powers and pleasures. By the Argents we have been introduced effectually into society, and have now only to choose our acquaintance among those whom we like best. I should employ another word than choose, for I am convinced that there is no choice in the matter. In his friendships and affections, man is subject to some inscrutable moral law, similar in its effects to what the chemists call affinity. While under the blind influence of this sympathy, we, forsooth, suppose ourselves free agents! But a truce with philosophy. The amount of the legacy is now ascertained. The stock, however, in which a great part of the money is vested, being shut, the transfer to my father cannot be made for some time; and till this is done, my mother cannot be persuaded that we have yet got any thing to trust to-an unfortunate no London. tion, which renders her very unhappy. The old gentleman himself takes no interest now in the business. He has got his mind at ease by the payment of all the legacies; and having fallen in with some of the members of that political junto, the saints, who are worldly enough to link, as often as they can, into their association, the powerful by wealth or talent, his whole time is occupied in assisting to promote their humbug: and he has absolutely taken it into his head, that the attention he receives from them for his subscriptions is on account of his eloquence as a preacher, and that hitherto he has been altogether in an error with respect to his own abilities. The effect of this is abundantly amus ing; but the source of it is very evident. Like most people who pass a sequestered life, he had formed an exaggerated opinion of public characters; and on seeing them in reality so little superior to the generality of man kind, he imagines that he was all the time nearer to their level than he had ventured to suppose; and the discovery has placed him on the happiest terms with himself. It is impossible that I can respect his manifold excellent qualities and goodness of heart more than I do; but there is an innocency in this simplicity which, while it often compels me to smile, makes me feel towards him a degree of tenderness somewhat too familiar for that filial reverence that is due from a son. Perhaps, however, you will think me scarcely less under the influence of -a similar delusion when I tell you, that I have been somehow or other drawn also into an association, not indeed so public or potent as that of the saints, but equally persevering in the objects for which it has been formed. The drift of the saints, as far as I can comprehend the matter, is to procure the advancement to political power of men distinguished for the purity of their lives and the integrity of their conduct; and in that way, I presume, -they expect to effect the accomplishment of that blessed epoch, the millenium, when the saints are to rule the whole earth. I do not mean to say that this is their decided and determined object; I only infer, that it is the necessary tendency of their proceedings: and I say it with all possible respect and sincerity, that, as a public party, the saints are not only perhaps the most powerful, but the party which, at present, best deserves power. The association, however, with which I have happened to become connected, is of a very different description. Their object is, to pass through life with as much pleasure as they can obtain, without doing any thing unbecoming the rank of gentlemen, and the character of men of honour. We do not assemble such numerous meetings as the saints, the whigs, or the radicals, nor are our speeches delivered with so much vehemence. We even, I think, tacitly exclude oratory. In a word, our meetings seldom exceed the perfect number of the muses; and our object on these occasions is not so much to deliberate on plans of prospective benefits to mankind, as to enjoy the present time for ourselves, under the temperate inspiration of a well-cooked dinner, flavoured with elegant wine, and just so much of mind as suits the fleeting topics of the day. T whom I formerly mentioned, introduced me to this delightful society. The members consist of about fifty gentlemen, who dine occasionally at each others' houses; the company being chiefly selected from the brotherhood, if that term can be applied to a circle of acquaintance, who, without any formal institution of rules, have gradually acquired a consistency that approximates to organization.-But the universe of this vast city contains a plurality of systems, and the one into which I have been attracted may be described as that of the idle intellects. In a general society, the members of our party are looked up to as men of taste and refinement, and are received with a degree of deference that bears some resemblance to the respect paid to the hereditary endowment of rank. They consist either of young men who have acquired distinction at college, or gentlemen of fortune who have a relish for intellectual pleasures, free from the ascerbities of politics, or the dull formalities which so many of the pious think essential to their religious pretensions. The wealthy furnish the entertainments, which are always in a superior style, and the ingredient of birth is not requisite in the qualifications of a member, although some jealousy is entertained of professional men, and not a little of merchants. T to whom I am also indebted for this view of that circle of which he is the brightest ornament, gives a felicitous explanation of the reason. He says, professional men, who are worth any thing at all, are always ambitious, and endeavour to make their acquaintance subservient to their own advancement; while merchants are liable to such casualties, that their friends are constantly exposed to the risk of being obliged to sink them below their wonted equality, by granting them favours in times of difficulty, or, what is worse, by refusing to grant them. I am much indebted to you for the introduction to your friend GHe is one of us, or rather, he moves in an eccentric sphere of his own, which crosses, I believe, almost all the orbits of all the classed and classifiable systems of London. I found him exactly what you described; and we were on the frankest footing of old friends in the course of the first 1 quarter of an hour. He did me the honour to fancy that I belonged, as a matter of course, to some one of the literary fraternities of Edinburgh, and that I would be curious to see the associations of the learned here. What he said respecting them was highly characteristic of the man. "They are," said he, "the dullest things possible. On my return from abroad I visited them all, expecting to find something of that easy disengaged mind which constitutes the charm of those of France and Italy. But in London, among those who have a character to keep up, there is such a vigilant circumspection, that I should as soon expect to find nature in the ballets of the Opera-house, as genius at the established haunts of authors, artists, and men of science. B-k gives, I suppose officially, a public breakfast weekly, and opens his house for conversation on the Sundays. I found at his breakfasts, tea and coffee, with hot rolls, and men of celebrity afraid to speak. At the conversations there was something even worse. A few plausible talking fellows created a buzz in the room, and the merits of some paltry nick-nack of mechanism or science was discussed. The party consisted undoubtedly of the most eminent men of their respective lines in the world; but they were each and all so apprehensive of having their ideas purloined, that they took the most guarded care never to speak of any thing that they deemed of the slightest consequence, or to hazard an opinion that might be called in question. The man who either wishes to augment his knowledge or to pass his time agreeably, will never expose himself to a repetition of the fastidious exhibitions of engineers and artists who have their talents at market. But such things are among the curiosities of London; and if you have any inclination to undergo the initiating mortification of being treated as a young man who may be likely to interfere with their professional interests, I can easily get you introduced." I do not know whether to ascribe these strictures of your friend to humour or misanthropy; but they were said without bitterness, indeed so much as matters of course, that, at the moment, I could not but feel persuaded they were just. I spoke of them to T who says, that un doubtedly G's account of the exhibitions is true in substance, but that it is his own sharp-sightedness which causes him to see them so of fensively; for that ninety-nine out of the hundred in the world, would deem an evening spent at the conversations of Sir J- Ba very high intellectual treat. G——————— has invited me to dinner, and I expect some amusement; for T- -, who is acquainted with him, says, that it is his fault to employ his mind too much on all occasions, and that, in all probability, there will be something, either in the fare or the company, that I shall remember as long as I live. However you shall hear all about it in my next. Yours, ANDREW PRINGLE. On the same Sunday on which Mr Micklewham consulted Mr Snodgrass as to the propriety of reading the doctor's letter to the elders, the following epistle reached the post office of Irvine, and was delivered by Saunders Dickie himself, at the door of Mrs Glibbans, to her servan lassie, who, as her mistress had gone to the relief church, told him, that he would have to come for the postage the morn's morning. O," said Saunders, "there's naething to pay but my ain trouble, for it's frankit, but aiblins the mistress will gic me a bit drappie, and so I'll come betimes i' the morning." LETTER XVIII. MY DEAR MRS GLIBBANS,-The breking up of the old parlament has been the cause why I did not right you before, it having taken it out of my poor to get a frank for my letter London. till yesterday, and I do ashure you, that I was most extraordinar uneasy at the great delay, wishing much to let you know the decayt state of the gospel in thir perts, which is the plea sure of your life to study by day, and meditate on in the watches of the night. There is no want of going to church, and, if that was a sign of grease and peese in the kingdom of Christ, the toun of London might hold a high head in the tabernacles of the faithful and true witnosses. But saving Dr Nichol of Swallo street, and Dr Manuel of Londonwall, there is nothing sound in the way of preeching here, and when I tell you that Mr John Gant, your friend, and some other flea-lugged fallows, have set up a Heelon congregation, and got a young man to preach Erse to the English, ye maun think in what a state sinful souls are left in London. But what I have been the most consarned about, is the state of the dead. I am no meaning those who are dead in trespasses and sins, but wha are dead to this world, and all the miseries thereof. Ye will hardly think, that they are buried in a popish-like manner, with prayers, and white gowns and ministers, and spadefuls of yerd cast upon them, and laid in vauts, like kists of orangers in a grocery sillerand I am told, that after a time, they are taken out when the vaut is shur feeted, and their bones brunt, if they are no made into lamp-black by a secret wark-which is a clean proof to me that a right doctrine cannot be established in this land-there being so little respec shone to the dead. The wase point, howsomever, of all is, what is done with the prayers, and I have heard you say, that although there was nothing more to objec to the wonderful Doctor Chammers of Glasgou, that his reading of his sermons was testimony against him in the great controversy of sound doctrine; but what will you say to reading of prayers, and no only reading of prayers, but printed prayers, as if the contreet heart of the sinner had no more to say to the Lord in the hour of fasting and humiliation, than what a bishop can indite, and a bookseller make profit o'. "Verily," as I may say, in a word of scripter, I doobt if the glad tidings of salvation have yet been preeched in this land of London; but the ministers have good stipends, and where the ground is well manur ed, it may in time bring forth fruit meet for repentance. There is another thing that behoves me to mention, and that is, that an elder is not to be seen in the churches of London, which is a sore signal that the piple are left to themselves; and in what state the morality can be, you may guess with an eye of pity. But on the Sabbath nights, there is such a going and coming, that its mae like a cried fair than the Lord's night all sats of poor people, instead of me ditating on their by-gane toil and misery of the week, making the Sunday their own day, as if they had not a greater Master to serve on that day than the earthly man whom they served in the week days. It is, howsomever, past the poor of nature to tell you of the sinfulness of Londonand you may well think what is to be the end of all things, when I ashure you, that there is a newspaper sold every Sabbath morning, and read by those that never look at their Bibles. Our landlady asked us if we would take one, but I thought the doctor would have fired the house, and you know it is not a small thing that kindles his passion. In short, Lon don is not a place to come to hear the tidings of salvation preeched, no that I mean to deny that there is not herine more than five righteous persons in it, and I trust the Cornal's hagent is one, for if he is not, we are undone, having been obligated to take on already more than a hundred pounds of debt, to the account of our living, and the legacy yet in the dead thraws. But as I mean this for a spiritual letter, I will say no more about the root of all evil, as it is called in the creeds of truth and holiness, so referring you to what I have told Miss Mally Glencairn about the legacy and other things nearest my heart, I remain, my dear Mrs Glibbans, your fellou christian and sinner, JANET PRINGLE. Mrs Glibbans received this letter between the preachings-and it was ob served by all her acquaintance during the afternoon service, that she was a laden woman. Instead of standing up at the prayers, as her wont was, she kept her seat, sitting with downcast eyes, and ever and anon her left hand, which was laid over her book on the reading board of the pew, was raised and allowed to drop with a particular moral emphasis, bespeaking the mournful cogitations of her spirit. On leaving the church, somebody whispered to Mr Rn, the minister, that surely Mrs Glibbans had heard some sore news, upon which that meek, mild, and modest good soul hastened towards her, and inquired, with more than his usual kindness, how she was-her answer was brief and mysterious-and she shook her head in such a manner, that Mr Rn perceived all was not right." Have you heard lately of your friends the Pringles?" said he, in his sedate manner" when do they think of leaving London ?" "I wish they may ever get out o't;" was the agitated reply of the afflicted Lady. "I'm very sorry to hear you say so," responded the minister; "I thought all was in a fair way to an issue of the settlement-I'm very sorry to hear this." "Mr R―n," said the mourner-" Mr R-n, don't think that I am grieved for them and their legacy-filthy ware-no, sir; but I have had a letter that has made my hair stand on end. Be none surprised if you hear of the earth opening, and London swallowed up; and a voice crying in the wilderness, 'Woe,' woe.'" The gentle priest was not much surprised by this information; it was evident that Mrs Glibbans had received a terrible account of the wickedness of London; and that the weight upon her pious spirit was owing to that cause. He therefore accompanied her home, and administered all the consolation he was able to give, assuring her, that it was in the power of Omnipotence to convert the stony heart into one of flesh and tenderness, and to raise the British metropolis out of the miry clay, and place it on a hill, as a city that could not be hid in the kingdom Christ; which Mrs Glibbans was so thankful to hear, that, as soon as he had left her, she took her tea in a satisfactory frame of mind, and went the same night to Miss Mally Glencairn, to hear what Mrs Pringle had said to her. No visit ever happened more opportunely, for just as Mrs Glibbans knocked at the door, Miss Isabella Todd made her appearance. She had also received a letter from Rachel, in which it will be seen, that reference was made likewise to Mrs Pringle's epistle to Miss Mally. LETTER XIX. Miss Rachel Pringle to Miss Isabella Todd. MY DEAR BELL,-How delusive are the flatteries of fortune. The wealth that has been showered upon us, beyond all our hopes, has brought no pleasure to my heart, and I pour my unavailing sighs for your absence, when I would communicate the cause of my unhappiness. Captain Sabre has been most assiduous in his attentions, and I must confess to your sympathising bosom, that I do begin to find, that he has an interest in mine. But my mother will not listen to his proposals, nor allow me to give him any encouragement, till the fatal legacy is settled. What can be her motive for this I am unable to divine, for the Captain's fortune is far beyond what I could ever have expected without the legacy, and equal to all I could hope for with it. If, therefore, there is any doubt of the legacy being paid, she should allow me to accept him; and if there is none, what can I do better? In the meantime, we are going about seeing the sights, but the general mourning is a great draw back on the splendour of gayety. It VOL. VII. London. ends, however, next Sunday, and then the ladies, like the spring flowers, will be all in full blossom. I was with the Argents at the opera on Saturday last, and it far surpassed my ideas of grandeur. But the singing was not good-I never could make out the end or the beginning of a song, and it was drowned with the violins; the scenery, however, was lovely, but I must not say a word about the dancers, only that the females behaved in a manner so shocking, that I could scarcely believe it was possible for the delicacy of our sex to do. They are, however, all foreigners, who are, you know, naturally of a licentious character, especially the French women. We have taken an elegant house in Baker Street, where we go on Monday next, and our own new carriage is to be home in the course of the week. All this, which has been done by the advice of Mrs Argent, gives my mother great uneasiness, in case any thing should yet happen to the legacy. My brother, however, who knows the law better than her, only 4 G |