LETTER XXII. TO THE REV. DAVID WILLIAMS. DEAR DAVID, I BELIEVE I have already hinted to you, that the students in this University are very fond of Debating Societies, and, indeed, the nature of their favourite studies might prepare one abundantly to find it so. They inhale the very atmosphere of doubt, and it is in the course of nature that they should exhale the very breath of disputation. They are always either actually struggling, vi et armis, to get over some quagmire or another, or, after establishing themselves once more on what they conceive to be a portion of the Terra Firma, falling out among themselves, which of the troop had picked his way along the neatest set of stepping-stones, or made his leap from the firmest knot of rushes. Before they have settled this mighty quarrel, it is possible they may begin to feel the ground giving way beneath their feet, and are all equally reduced once again to hop, stride, and scramble, as they best may for themselves. The first of the institutions, however, which I visited, is supposed to be frequented by persons who have already somewhat allayed their early fervour for disputation, by two or three years' attendance upon Debating Societies, of an inferior and of a far more ephemeral character. While he attends the prælections of the Professor of Logic, the student aspires to distinguish himself in a club, constituted chiefly or entirely of members of that class. The students of Ethics and of Physics are, in like manner, provided with separate rooms, in which they canvass at night the doctrines they have heard promulgated in the lecture of the morning. It is not till all this apprenticeship of discipline has been regularly gone through, that the juvenile philosopher ventures to draw up a petition, addressed to the president and members of the Speculative Society of Edinburgh, which humbly sheweth forth, that he would fain be permitted to give to his polemical and oratorial faculties the last finish of sharpness and elegance under the high auspices of their venerable body.* The names of some of the minor Debating Clubs are amusing enough-these are, among others, the Didactic, the Polemical, the Philomathic, the Dialectic, the Philalethic, the Select, the Select Forensic-and last not least, the Pansophical! Without sending in such a petition as this, and being admitted formally a member of the Society, it is not possible to be present at one of their meetings. These sages will scarcely allow a poor passing stranger to catch even one sidelong odour of their wisdom. No-it is necessary to assume the regular garb of the initiated, before these Hierophants will expand the gates of their Adytus, and reveal to you the inspiring glories of their mysteries. Although I could not help feeling some qualmish suspicions, that this arrangement might, in part at least, have been dictated by a due reverence for the old maxim, omne ignotum pro magnifico, yet the way in which I heard the Society spoken of, by persons for whose opinion I could not but entertain a high respect, and the curiosity which I certainly felt, to witness for myself all possible manifestation of the rising genius of Scotland, were enough to counterbalance any little scruples I might have, and I resolved, since less might not avail, to affix the name of Peter Morris, M. D. to the regular formula of supplication. It was attested by Mr, who is an honorary member of the Society, and by his nephew, a young man of considerable promise, that the said Peter Morris, M. D., was, in their judgment, possessed of such a measure of learning and ability, as might justify the Society in admitting him into their bosom; and after the usual ceremonies of doubt, delay, examination, and panegyric, the said Peter was ballotted for and admitted as aforesaid. I rather grudged a fee of three guineas, which, I was given to understand, formed an essential preliminary to my taking my seat; but, however, as I had been pretty fortunate at loo the evening before, I did not allow this to form any lasting impediment to my honours. As the poet sings, "I prize not treasure for itself, But what it can procure; So I paid my three guineas, and prepared to make my appearance next Tuesday evening. For the sake of being near the scene of action, I agreed to the proposal of the gentlemen who had recommended me to the society, viz. to having a snug dinner with one or two friends in addition, in a tavern immediately adjoining. The name of the house is the Lord Nelson, and it is kept by one Barclay. We went at half past four, in order that we might have time to drink our bottle comfortably before the meeting; and I assure you, I have very seldom enjoyed either a better dinner or a better bottle. There is an ordinary in the house every day at that very hour, which is attended, as I was informed, by a considerable number of students, besides a host of bagmen, and other travellers of all descriptions, and many half-pay officers of the naval, military, and, above all, of the medical establishments. We had a glimpse of them and their dinner, en passant, and I promise you both made a very joyous appearance. As for us, we dined apart in a room of very magnificent proportions, which of old, it seems, had been the dining-room of a celebrated President of the Court of Session;* a lofty hall, with a rich ceiling in the French style of stucco work, and decorated at one extremity with a huge portrait of the Hero whose name the tavern bears-evidently a genuine production of the sign-post school. The princely size of the room, however, and elevation of the roof, were sufficient to give the whole affair an air of gentility, and even of splendour, such as is not often to be met * Dundas. |