possible to read the affecting narrative The almost miraculous escapes of Park, Byron, Bruce, and many others, demonstrate that the arms of God are around individuals, as well as nations and empires. How enobling to human nature to think, that man is the object of the peculiar care and favour of that Being, whose power created those stupendous masses of matter with which all space seems to be filled ; and whose wisdom devised those laws by which ten thousand times ten thousand worlds roll in magnificence and order, through the boundless regions of sky! SCOTTISH SONG. Tune-Royal Highlander's March. Ah Peggy! since thou'rt gane away I canna fend anither day In sic regretfu' anguish. My mind's the aspin i' the vale I downa bide to see the moon When I think on thy cheerfu' smile, Ah! Peggy, thou art gane away, I dinna blush to swear an' say, O! in the slippery paths o' love, May still thy heart be kind an' true, May heav'n distill its purest dew, May flowrets spring, an' wild birds sing Around thee late an' early; An' oft to thy remembrance bring The lad that loe'd thee dearly. EDINBURGH-Printed at the Star Office, (price 4d. a single Number, 4s. 6d. per quarter, deliverable in town, and 5s. when sent to the country), by A. AIKMAN, for the PROPRIETORS ; here Subscriptions, and Communications, (post paid), will be received, 1811. SIR, Experto crede. TO THE SPY. The Spy. SATURDAY, MAY 18. IN drawing the character of an individual, it is necessary that we should be capable of giving a just and strong colouring to that predominant feature by which the greater part of mankind are distinguished from each other. But when we pass from individuals to classes of men, and select a figure from the group, with the view of exhibiting those peculiarities which are common to the whole class, the difficulties are considerably increased.-The loquaci ous barrister, the starved apothecary, the Bond street beau, are characters which have often been exhibited, yet in how many instances has the colouring been given with too bold, or too sparing a hand. In how many cases have we been able to discover in the loquacity of the lawyer, the pedantry of the apothecary, or the trifling importance of the beau, any thing more than mere vice and folly. If these observations be just, I may perhaps lay claim to some degree of indulgence, if in endeavouring to give a distinctive picture of a Scots Tutor, I shall fail of my aim; yet, if experience be allowed to teach wisdom, I have some little title to be heard, as I can safely say with the Trojan hero: "All this I saw, and part of which I was." A Scotch tutor is a being in a state of transition from that humble obscurity No. 38. in which he was born and educated, to the dignity and usefulness of a country clergyman.-Ascending by regular gradations from rusticity and ignorance, through all the modifications of middle. and of higher life, his experience of the world is considerable.-He has not unfrequently exhibited in succession, the sheepishness of the clown, the conceit of the pedant, the smartness of the witling, and all the morbid sensibility of the man of feeling and genius. From his peculiar situation as a tutor he usually contracts a kind of jealous and surly independence, which accompanies him through all his wanderings, and more than any other circumstance, stamps and classifies his character.-It is as an individual of this class, that I presume to offer this short narrative of my life, and tutorage to your notice. At the usual period I was sent to school, and after the expiration of seven years of the most vivid pleasures and the most severe sorrows, I entered upon life with much skill in analysis, great readiness in declensions, and a complete knowledge of promiscuous questions. There were indeed a few passages in the classics, which I could not construe, some questions in Hutton's Arithmetic, which I could not solve, and a certain long rule in Ruddiman's Grammar, which I could never repeat.-But these deficiences were re deemed by a mass of information and knowledge, of which the reader has perhaps a very imperfect conception.For many seeming irregularities in my author, I had at hand a list of hard names, at the sound of which every difficulty vanished. Before this talisman, many errors of the press, many blundering corrections, many an untoward construction received in an instant, sense, expression, elegance.— Along with these more shewy and imposing accomplishments, I had almost unconsciously acquired others much more substantial; a small spark of that fire which burnt so brightly on the altars of Greece and Rome, had been stolen; a certain portion of that honest manliness of spirit which characterised a Roman citizen had been imbibed; the amusements of the school, and the labours of the class, had laid the foundation of a sturdy independence.In our hours of relaxation, as well as of study, we were estimated by our teacher, and playmates not from our birth, or pocket money, but according to the rank which we supported in the class, our mettle at a game, or our spirit in a quarrel. Enduring fatigue, patient of hunger, and indefatigable in their pursuit of pleasure, school boys become men, and whilst their only object is amusement, they are gradually acquiring habits which will qualify them for discharging with respectability the duties of life. With all this knowledge, however, of the classics, and with all these useful habits, I was as ignorant of myself and of the world, as if I had been born and educated in the ring of Jupiter. The estimate which I had formed of my own powers was highly flattering to my vanity, and I had the happiness to hear myself mentioned at several respectable gossipings, in terms of approbation. My mother heard me speak Latin in my sleep, and was beginning to entertain some serious apprehensions for her son's intellects. That my knowledge of the world' was not very extensive, may be guessed from this consideration, that, excepting once, when dispatched with a basket of gooseberries to a widow lady, a distant relation of my mother's, I had never in my life set my foo. on a carpet. It was my good fortune to find my first employer as a teacher, in a relation of my mother, a widow lady of respectability, and the mother of a large family of children. When I arrived at the house of my relation, it was near the dinner hour, and much to my satisfaction, an old acquaintance, and predecessor in office, was requested to stay on my account. This school friend had been two winters at college, and had in my opinion acquired all those graces of manner and conversation, of which I was entirely ignorant. To him therefore, I resolved to look, as to the living example, according to which, I was to eat my dinner, drink my beer, and portion out my conver sation. Unfortunately, for me this paragon of good manners had acquired a habit, whilst engaged in conversation, of lifting the one leg over the other; and of passing his hand regularly, every other sentence he pronounced from his knee to his ankle. No sooner did I observe this, than resolved to improve my time, I plaited my legs, and in the gravest inanner imaginable, set to rub up bing my shins, and delivering opinions. Rousseau I think recommends a ball and a socket to fill the awful pauses in genteel conversation; perhaps the device I have been attempting to de. scribe, might answer the same purpose with the additional recommendation of being always at hand. It was about this period of my life, and stage of my taste, that accident brought me acquainted with the works of Hervey. I cannot well describe my feelings, on this occasion. It was as if one had beat a drum, or fired a cannon at my ear. My whole soul in a state of fermentation, gradually heaved and expanded. The heavens were in view, and disdaining earth, it asserted a sisterhood, with the denizens of Venus; with the resplendent inhabitants of the milky-way.. Misled by the glitter, and the sound of a turgid and affected writer, I raved to the moon-beam, watched the sun rise, and moralized by turns, on flowers, and grave-stones.There is a pleasure they say, in madness which none but madmen know, so, if your readers Mr. Spy, are all sensible peo. ple, they can form but a very imperfect idea of the exquisite happiness I experienced whilst this lunacy continued. From the church yard, to night thoughts, was an easy transition. In the Works of Young, I found more taste, and equal fire.. I had so overheated my brain, with the wild rhapsodies of Hervey, that the chaster exuberances of Young were necessary, to admit me, by an easy, and imperceptible declivity, to the cooler, and clearer atmosphere of true passion, and chaste embellishment. Yet still my taste was very incorrect: on the quaint and over. strained conceits of that great author, This was exactly to the tune of Ralph. "And with less equals to compare, “An ugly toad, an angel fair.” a book which yielded me great delight.. "Disease thou long my guest, "That plucks my nerves, those tender strings of life, Two lines containing twice the number The grain, however, was not the worse for being mixed with a smallquantity of chaff. And that reader must be fastidious indeed, who, for a few such instances, would condemn a poet whom genius, religion, and humamanity, are proud to recognize as their own. With the works of Smollet and of Fielding, I became, about this time acquainted. These writings contained pictures of life, and manners which pleased me, by their novelty and the brilliancy of their colours, but they tended, at the same time, to generate hopes of ultimate success in worldly concerns, which experience does not realize. A man may be born a Tom |