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 anything unbecoming the rank of gentlemen, and the character of men of honour.We do not assemble such numerous meetings as the Saints, theWhigs, 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 other's 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 organisation.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 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 acerbities 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 anything 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 G-.He isone 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 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.Bankes gives, I suppose officially, a public breakfast weekly, and opens his house for conversations 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 anything 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 somuch 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 undoubtedly 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 offensively; for that ninety-nine out of the hundred in the world would deem an evening spent at the conversations of Sir Joseph Bankes a 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."Oh," said Saunders, "there's naething to pay but my ain trouble, for it's frankit; but aiblins the mistress will gie me a bit drappie, and so I'll come betimes i' the morning."
