Mr. Snodgrass was obliged to walk into Irvine one evening, to get rid of

a raging tooth, which had tormented him for more than a week. The

operation was so delicately and cleverly performed by the surgeon to whom

he applied--one of those young medical gentlemen, who, after having been

educated for the army or navy, are obliged, in this weak piping time of

peace, to glean what practice they can amid their native shades--that the

amiable divine found himself in a condition to call on Miss Isabella Tod.

During this visit, Saunders Dickie, the postman, brought a London letter

to the door, for Miss Isabella; and Mr. Snodgrass having desired the

servant to inquire if there were any for him, had the good fortune to get

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the following from Mr. Andrew Pringle:-

LETTER XXIX

Andrew Pringle Esq., to the Rev. Mr. Charles Snodgrass

My Dear Friend--I never receive a letter from you without experiencing a

strong emotion of regret, that talents like yours should be wilfully

consigned to the sequestered vegetation of a country pastor's life. But

we have so often discussed this point, that I shall only offend your

delicacy if I now revert to it more particularly. I cannot, however, but

remark, that although a private station may be the happiest, a public is

the proper sphere of virtue and talent, so clear, superior, and decided

as yours. I say this with the more confidence, as I have really, from

your letter, obtained a better conception of the queen's case, than from

all that I have been able to read and hear upon the subject in London.

The rule you lay down is excellent. Public safety is certainly the only

principle which can justify mankind in agreeing to observe and enforce

penal statutes; and, therefore, I think with you, that unless it could be

proved in a very simple manner, that it was requisite for the public

safety to institute proceedings against the queen--her sins or

indiscretions should have been allowed to remain in the obscurity of her

private circle.

I have attended the trial several times. For a judicial proceeding, it

seems to me too long--and for a legislative, too technical. Brougham, it

is allowed, has displayed even greater talent than was expected; but he

is too sharp; he seems to me more anxious to gain a triumph, than to

establish truth. I do not like the tone of his proceedings, while I

cannot sufficiently admire his dexterity. The style of Denman is more

lofty, and impressed with stronger lineaments of sincerity. As for their

opponents, I really cannot endure the Attorney-General as an orator; his

whole mind consists, as it were, of a number of little hands and

claws--each of which holds some scrap or portion of his subject; but you

might as well expect to get an idea of the form and character of a tree,

by looking at the fallen leaves, the fruit, the seeds, and the blossoms,

as anything like a comprehensive view of a subject, from an intellect so

constituted as that of Sir Robert Gifford. He is a man of application,

but of meagre abilities, and seems never to have read a book of travels

in his life. The Solicitor-General is somewhat better; but he is one of

those who think a certain artificial gravity requisite to professional

consequence; and which renders him somewhat obtuse in the tact of

propriety.




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