1810.

He gave his countenance against his name, To laugh at gybing boys, and stand the push Of every beardless vain comparative.—

SIR,

TO THE SPY.

SHAKESPEARE.

IN my young days I was esteemed a man of the world, but succeeding to a handsome estate on the death of my father, I acquired a relish for country life, and my habits gradually became retired and fixed. I have a good library, which has been an elegant source of amusement to me; and I enjoy the society of a few pleasant neighbours, whose manners and modes of thinking are congenial to my own. I married the daughter of a neighbouring proprietor, a young lady of good sense, and the sweetest temper in the world, who has blessed me with a lovely family; and I have always found so much true happiness within my own walls, that I have seldom been tempted to venture at a distance from them. Tom, my eldest boy, is seventeen years of age, and promises to be a man rather of solid than brilliant talents. Induced to prefer a private to a public education, I have had him educated under a domestic tutor, a man of worth and learning; and I purpose next winter to send him to the University of Edinburgh. My nephew Jack has recently returned from thence, after having the finish given to his education, as it is called; and although a good natured sprightly

No XIV.

fellow, has turned out such an egregious fop, that I am extremely desirous my son Tom may not form himself after the same model. Jack pressed me so much to take a trip into Edinburgli with him, last winter, to see the "flowers of chivalry," as he stiles the fashionable young gentlemen of the day, that I was prevailed upon to accompany him. The desire of seeing what kind of company my son was likely to meet with in town, united to the wish of knowing something of the present mode of genteel education, were my chief motives for absenting myself for a few days from the unmingled felicity of my domestic circle. My disappointment, however, in this trip, Mr Editor, will be best conceived when I acquaint you with the different description of young gentlemen I had the misfortune to meet with during my visit.

The first and the most numerous description of those I encountered, are, in modern slang, denominated Quizzers. The art of these accomplished young gentlemen consists, in interrupting you in the middle of a sentence, and giving some absurd meaning to your words, so different from what you intended, as to raise the laugh against you. The replies are commonly delivered with a dry sneer, with the attempt at a witticism or a point. In short, their whole skill is in a play on your words, and in the effort to make you ridicu

lous. Its origin may be traced to the refined seminaries of Eton and Westminster, where to this the young gentlemen seem to pay a great deal more attention than to their studies; and from which they come forth, at the age of seventeen or eighteen years, remarkable only for an accomplishment that reflects so great credit on themselves, and honour on their country. It was some years ago transplanted into our Scottish universities, where it appears to flourish as luxuriantly as in its natural soil; and it doubtless sheds as fair a lustre on our modern youths as another fashionable accomplishment, I mean that of sparring, to which indeed it is sometimes a preliminary. This bestows the finish on genteel education, gives life and zest to conversation, and supersedes the necessity of more solid acquirements-the cultivation of the understanding and the taste. No wonder, said I to myself, why so great a number of our young gentlemen make so eminent a figure in the church and state! No wonder that in these times, rich in the means of improvement, so many accomplished souls have arisen to sparkle as constellations in the firmament of their country!

I must acknowledge, however, that when I was first introduced into the company of these quizzing gentlemen, I was filled with indignation at their conceit and impertinence, and considered them more proper subjects for correction than advice. But I soon found that to lose my temper was only to afford new matter of ridicule to these impertinent young fops, and that there was nothing for it, but to stand on the defensive, to parry the thrusts of

my antagonists, and to push in my turn. But one of the old school like myself, who had all my life-time (thank God) mixed with a very different kind of society, had infinitely the disadvantage, and generally came off from these skir mishes of words with mortification and confusion. And then, for a person of my years to be foiled in a contest with boys-Sir, it was quite intolerable. If any son of mine attempt to quiz any of his Majesty's lieges, he shall have a flogging instead of a lecture. Besides, these young dogs have no reverence for grey hairs and experience. Whoever enters not into their humour is a Quiz, and may certainly expect to be quizzed, whether he enters into it or not. In short, Sir, I resolved to avoid a society where I was perpetually called to blush for the perversion of the human intellect, and what is now reckoned the charm of conversation, appears to me only fitted to nourish all the bad passions, and to make the possession of it as useless to themselves, as they must be disagree-able to every person of taste and reflection.

The next set of "pleasant young fellows" I met with, and who reflect so great an honour upon human nature and our metropolis, are the "the Punsters." I need not inform you, Sir, that the punning art consists in one person's affixing a different, and generally an absurd meaning to a word of the same sound which has been used by another person; or, as Addison defines it," it is a conceit arising from the use of two words that agree in sound, but differ in sense." This has justly been termed the lowest species of wit, (if wit it may be called), which is certainly more fit

"A liberal art that costs no pains

Of study, industry, or brains."-HUD. Excellence, however, is only to be attained by unremitted practice, and I had unfortunately neglected the cultivation of what I conceived to be better suited to the old monkish rhyme, in which it is so much used, than to the enlightened spirits of the eighteenth century. As the looker-on has sometimes more pleasure from the game than those who are engaged in it, I amused myself in the company of those refined wits, by observing the rapidity and success with which the pun went round. But I was mortified to find, that the most dexterous did not succeed above once in a dozen attempts to excite a laugh, and nothing gives so humiliating a view of human intellect as an abortive pun. And though this amusementthis game of sound, may be quite as suitable to grown gentlemen as hunting the slipper, or playing at shuttle cock, it is insufferably trifling to any man of learning, solidity, or reflection. Not to mention, that it causes an obliquity of mind in those who practise it; for, instead of attending to the natural consequence which flowed from any observation, how important soever; I perceived, from the expressive counte nances of my young friends, that all

I soon found the company of these "pleasant young gentlemen," as intolformer my erably fatiguing as that of quizzing acquaintance, and becoming grave and stupid, I took my leave as speedily as was consistent with politeness. As I marched off, I had the mortification to overhear myself called a testy old fellow, too dull for a wit myself, and too insipid to relish it in another. I own I felt the full force of the remark, and whenever I wish to be out of humour with human nature, I shall pass an evening in a company of pun

sters.

66

My nephew Jack, who, to do him justice, did every thing in his power to make my time in town pass away as pleasantly as possible, and to afford me the opportunity of accomplishing the chief object of my visit, next prevailed on me to dine with a party of his "pleasant young fellows," at the house of a particular friend of his, a gentleman of fortune, elegant manners and accomplishments." "You will there," says he, " find amusement enough to compensate the ennui and disappointment you seemed to experience at our two last parties, "The young gentlemen are the first wits in town, and are invited purely on your account," I own, I have always found more true enjoyment in the society of learned and sensible persons, than in that of wits, punsters, and buffoons. The constant affectation of brilliancy, and attempt at repartee, which distinguishes the fashionable young men of our metropolis, are extremely fatiguing to an old fellow like me, whose intercourse has

ed anecdote, and, to my utter mortification, I found myself in a company of mere story-tellers; whom, of all the race of self-constituted wits, I have ever considered the most tiresome and provoking. I have never seen one man in twenty, who did not make himself ridiculous, by attempting to sing a song, or to tell a story. True wit is a gem, as rare and valuable as the diamond, and humour is generally confounded with mere farce and buffoonery. But, your story-tellers are rarely possessed of either of these qualities, without taste or invention themselves, they repeat over like parrots, a thousand times, what they have heard from others; or what is worse, endeavour to set off every little incident with taudry embellishments of their own, equally offensive to good taste and veracity. And, so anxi. ous are they to make a display of their powers, and to establish their claim as amusing companions, that their impatience makes them break in upon the natural current of conversation, and thrust in their anecdotes, head and shoulders, be their connection ever so slight with the subject upon the carpet. Occasional anecdotes, illustrative of the topics of conversation, when well chosen and in place, both instruct and amuse, but these require talents of a peculiar kind to do them justice, of which, those to whom we allude, are seldom possessed; who generally engross the whole conversation to themselves, and serve up the stale jests of Joe-Miller, with the utmost self-importance, as though they were quite new to every person in company. But, I was most struck to perceive, that they were all

so ambitious of displaying their talents, by the recital of some foolish story, that it sometimes became a question with my host who should be first heard. At first I laughed as loud as any of the company, particularly on perceiving that my garrulous friend could not find room to introduce one circumstance about his pidgeon-house; but I soon found the truth of the adage, "that it is not always fine weather when the sun shines," and that one may wear a smile on his countenance, while inwardly he is sick at the heart. It may be assumed as a maxim, that every teller of stories is a drinker of wine; drinker of wine; and, in process of

time, as the bottle began to take effect, the anecdotes passed from fun to farce, from farce to obscenity, and though I left the room the first in the company, I heard enough to convince me, that the society of such " the society of such "pleasant young fellows," is by no means suited to my son Tom. It has been sometimes remarked, that weak men are distinguished from men of talents, from their delighting in narrative rather than in observation, in repetition rather than in reasoning. The former can relate facts, but the latter only know to make a proper use of them. Nor was I surprised to learn, that these Anecdote-mongers, were more distinguished in company, than in their professions, and were rather courted as companions, than esteemed as men.

It is not my wish Sir, to fatigue you or your reader with the description of feelings, peculiar perhaps, to my age and habits. Like most old fellows, I look back with fond partiality to the days of my youth, and if our gentle