fully aware of the impetuosity and obstinacy of my temper, but she wanted firmness to resist them. In all the little disputes which occurred betwixt her and me, I was sure to prevail, and I very soon discovered my superiority. I shall never forget a very singular instance of my obstinacy, which happened about this time; and, as it marks my character in strong colours, I shall relate it.

A goldfinch had built its nest on the top of a lofty bough in our garden hedge. My father had prohibited the cruel practice of robbing birds of their young, under the most severe penalties; but I set my heart on the younglings, and was determined to possess them at all risks. For this purpose, I rose early one morning; went, unperceived, to the place; ascended the tree, and with a heart panting withexpectation and delight, I had almost reached the object of my wishes; and, in imagination, was already in possession of the golden prize, when I fell and fractured one of the small bones of my left arm. John, who happened to be abroad that morning earlier than usual, came up just in time to witness the accident. He carried me instantly into the house, where my father examined the hurt, and soon ascertained the extent of the mischief. I bore the pain of the examination with fortitude; but, stung with grief and disappointment, I refused to submit to the operation of setting, unless the young birds were brought me.

My father, who had not before learnt the cause of the accident, made the discovery with very serious uneasiness, and began to expostulate with me on the unreasonableness and cruelty of my demand. Nothing, however, could satisfy me but the goldfinch's nest. I burst into tears,

and declared that I would rather die than yield on any other terms.

My mother, who stood beside me bathed in tears, interceded, and I prevailed. Would to heaven that my father had broke my other arm too; it would have been an act of mercy compared to this weak compliance, this dangerous submission to the despotism of an infant!

I had hitherto stood in some awe of him, but my victory was now complete, and I knew well how to improve the advantage.

A cure was very soon performed upon my arm, but the injury which my mind received from this triumph over both my parents, was deep-rooted and inveterate.

During my confinement I was indulged in all my whims and caprices, and I soon became the master, or rather tyrant of the whole family. After my recovery I did not choose to relinquish the ground I had gained during my illness.

Every day, nay every hour, brought a new demand, more unreasonable than the last, and I had recourse to every possible mode of extorting compliance.

At one time I cajoled, at another I stormed, and now I wept! If one of these modes of attack failed, another was sure of success. My father often resisted my importunities, and sometimes even proceeded to corporal punishment; but as he had not nerves to go through with it, this only made the evil worse. My mother, whose tenderness of heart was such that she could not endure to see the meanest living being suffer torture, by tears and entreaties often rescued me from the chastisement which my delinquencies had justly merited. Yet, with all these vices, I was kind, benevolent, and possessed of unbounded generosity.

It was not then, Mr Spy, the fashion to spurn the poor man from the door of the wealthy; the sick, the lame, the blind, the infirm and the aged, were permitted to crave alms at the abode of benevolence and charity. If these children of wretchedness are not permitted to seek relief of those who may be disposed to grant it, let our lawgivers enact a law to banish sickness, disease, decrepitude, poverty, and old age from the land!

For many years, Sir, I have been compelled to seek a precarious subsistence in a foreign land. Often, during my pilgri mage, I have been proud to hear my native country stiled the land of charity;' but, Sir, in this boasted land, and boasted acts of charity, it has been my fate, for several days past, in my afternoon walk along Prince's Street, to have my feelings wounded by the sight of several unfortunate females, who had scarcely a rag to defend them from the cold and rain; with sometimes one infant in their arms and another at their side, casting a wishful look upon the extravagance and profusion of the kitchens of the rich, or, if they venture down into the areas, driven away with curses, by some proud, unfeeling lackey. I have seen this, and my heart has swelled with indignation; for, whatever my faults have been, hardness of heart has not been of the number. Amid all my difficulties, dangers and distresses, I have ever been ready to share my crust of bread with the hungry, my cup of cold water with the thirsty, and, when I had neither, at least to address a fellow-sufferer with the soothing language of consolation.

But, to return to my story-though my father and mother were charitable, in an uncommon degree, and never sent

the poor man away empty, I was seldom contented with their charities, but used to run into the kitchen, steal a hand ful of meal, and, unseen by any of the family, pour it into his bag. By these means my liberality became famous all over the country, and I would not have exchanged the music of "God bless the laddie," which often sounded in my ears, for an empire.

At eight years of age, I was sent to the parish school to study latin. The master, though placed in an obscure station, and struggling all his life with poverty, and a feeble constitution, was a man of great originality of mind, and very uncommon acquirements. He had a correct taste, was thoroughly acquainted with ancient and modern literature, but his admiration of the ancients perhaps bordered on extravagance. He seemed, indeed, to consider an extensive knowledge of the Greek and Roman authors, as the summit of all human excellence. He was by nature an enthusiast in all his pursuits, and possessed the rare talent of infusing his own enthusiasm into the minds of his scholars.

I caught a spark of this enthusiasm, and soon became a very great favourite. of the master. The promptitude, the ease, and correctness, with which I performed every task, delighted him; and on this account, he forgave me occasional fits of turbulence and obstinacy. My ruling passion was ambition; and while I considered any boy in the school superior to myself, there was no degree of labour and exertion to which I would not have cheerfully submitted; but my superiority was soon acknowledged, and my industry relaxed. Before the end of three years, I had acquired a tolerably

correct knowledge of the principles of the latin language, and during that time, I never received a harsh word, or even a severe look. It was the system of our master to govern by love rather than fear.

One day I was accused of an act of outrageous cruelty to a little boy who had just newly come to school. He was standing on the brink of a pool, his foot slipt, he fell into the water, and it was only by the exertions of a gentleman who happened to pass by at the moment, that his life was saved. Two other boys and myself were present when the accident happened. These boys either from malice, or an idea that the fact really was so, accused me of having pushed him into the water, and as I stood next to him when he fell, made an involuntary motion forwards, the accusation had an air of truth. The boys were firm and consistent in their statement, the proof seemed clear, and the crime was of a nature not to be pardoned. After a very narrow scrutiny into the whole affair, I was found guilty,, and bore the punishment with fortitude; but indignation swelled within my bosom at the injustice, not the pain of the punishment, and I at last burst out into ungovernable rage. I proceeded so far as to call the master tyrant, rushed out of the room, and made a vow never again to enter it. Not even the prayers and entreaties of my father and mother, the apologies and even the tears of the maeter, who soon discovered my innocence, could shake my constancy; and 1 adhered with the greatest firmness to a resolution taken in a paroxism of rage.

A stubborn temper was the radical vice of my nature, and has been the cause of by far the greater number of my failures and misfortunes.

Inflexibility of character must be guided by consummate wisdom, to entitle it to the name of virtue. Without this guidance it is a most dangerous vice. It may exalt a Cato or an Epaminondas above the common level of humanity; if it enter as an element into the character of Nero, he degenerates into the worst of demons.

My father, after an ineffectual struggle, was at last compelled to take upon himself the sole charge of my education; for the small income of a Scotch minister did not enable him to employ a domestic tutor; and, though his avocations were numerous, he discharged this duty with more than paternal fidelity. Of all the hours of my life, I look back on those 1 spent with him in the perusal of the Greek, Roman, and English classics, with the most pure delight. I have often seen the beam of joy pass over his countenance as I read of any great or generous action, of the exaltation, the prosperity and the independence of nations. I have seen him turn pale, and the tear swell in his eye, when the theme was their slavery and degradation! When, on any occasion, I seemed to be under the influence of the same emotions, he would catch me in his arms and embrace me.

Every morning, before the lesson was begun, he laid his hand upon my head, and offered up a short prayer, that the Giver of all Good would bless the instructions which he was about to communicate. This was not the cold unmeaning prayers of the formalist; they were warm from the heart, devout and varied as the bounties of Providence and the existing wants and circumstances of each rising day.

(To be Continued.)

1810.

As you are no doubt on the watch for

grievances and mistakes of every kind, private as well as public, I wish you would be so kind as make some observations upon one which takes place at our house three times in four out of all the nights in the year that we have company; and of which I have seen innumerable instances eslewhere.

There are certainly many people in this town, who have a clearer head than my husband, but there are very few who have a better heart; of which, our long acquaintance has only tended still more and more to confirm my opinion. His intimate friends, not inappropriately, characterize him as a good, bonest, blunI dering fellow; and indeed, Mr Spy, think his greatest foible is an enthusiastic admiration of men of genius. He holds no communication with any other class, nor invites any other to our table; and from this circumstance proceeds my greatest grievance, and consequent appeal to you. Previous to any of these literary parties, my husband takes care to impress upon the mind of each individual invited a deep sense of the great perfections with which those that he is to associate with are endowed, and

NUMB. VII.

how highly he will be entertained and edified by their enlightened conversation.

I dare say, Sir, you can very easily explain the cause, why the purpose for which these parties are assembled is ever completely defeated, unless in some very few instances, and I really wish you would do it. In general, of all the parties I ever saw, those that assemble avowedly for the purpose of conversation are the most insipid and dull, every individual appearing as if under some restraint. What can ail them, Mr Spy? Do they think more is expected of them than they can easily or conveniently advance; or do they all wish to listen to others rather than speak themselves? I know from experience that this cannot be the case; but whatever it be, I have heard more good sense, more wit and humour, pass in one hour between my husband and myself than among fourteen whom he had picked out as the brightest luminaries of the age during a whole evening: A discussion on the state of the weather, the news ofthe day, or any general subject, is commonly all that can be wrung out of them as long as I remain in their company, and even this not gained without an effort.

I hate disputations yet would often be glad to obviate the restraint, which so evidently pervades our parties, at the expense of a little controversy;