perienced in that country. The harbour, though three miles across, was frozen over for three weeks. The ship's company walked aboard and ashore, nay, all our provisions were got aboard on the ice (which in many places was thirty-six feet in thickness) notwithstanding the strong north-west winds which blow most of the winter.

When we arrived at Boston, we were ordered to this country, which has been as hot this summer as the former was cold in winter. Such a change of climate could not fail to create sickness in the ship's company: but, thank God, only three have died, one a natural death, and the other two drowned.

I had a very severe fit of sickness at our first coming here; but being so much given to sweating, it proved an effectual cure, although I am very weak through that means. I never lived so badly, as aboard here in point of provisions, every species being the worst of their kinds, and neither butter nor flour to be had.

I desire you will write by the pacquet on receipt; for if you lay hold of any other opportunity, your letter will be too late; the ship being positively ordered home early next spring, to my great satisfaction, being quite tired of a life that my past follies drove me to, and to which I have served too long an apprenticeship. If every thing does not succeed to my satisfaction, on my arrival in England, I am fully bent to return and settle in this country; having had the fairest offers imaginable, could my discharge have been procured. In Virginia and Maryland, in particular, I could do best by acting in a double capacity, by learning (teaching) the small sword, and the exercise of the small arms, there being no regular forces in either province, and

1

the officers of the militia being quite ignorant themselves of that part of their duty.

I desire it as a favour, you would often examine your poetical pieces before you commit them to the press. This advice I hope you will the more readily take, as most young authors are apt to be more criticised than those who have had a little experience. Pope himself, was one of the most careful in this respect, and none as yet ever surpassed him. When I arrive in England, I shall give you the necessary directions how to send your works, and make no doubt of selling them to advantage, when the ship is paid off. I am sorry to hear of J. Wright's death: he was a worthy young lad, and one I had a true regard for.

Thick Peter, I hope by this time is recovered. I should be glad to hear of Robertson and Addison's success: The latter, if in Edinburgh, I desire to be kindly remembered to. I should also be happy to hear how Sandie Young, and John Coomans do, having often experienced their kindness, and been happy in their company.

In our passage from Boston to Hampton, we had a very narrow escape with our lives, being surrounded with one of the largest water spouts ever seen, which blackened the sky for some leagues, and, had we not barely weathered it, would have sunk the ship and every soul aboard.

Remember me in the strongest manner to my mother, Peggy, Rarities, Father Parker, &c. &c. If you want either to succeed, or gain esteem, be very careful of what company you keep. This advice I hope you will take, as it comes from one who has lost him-,

self merely through inattention in that respect. Believe me, it is impossible to write you as I would chuse,

being environed with twenty thousand noisy plagues, not to mention execrations so horrid, that would make the greatest blackguard in Edinburgh's hair stand erect. I hope you'll make it your particular care, to study such branches of education as may prove most conducive to your future happiness, and appear at least once every Sunday in church (I mean the church of Scotland) for how can you spend your time better? I was, like many, fond of the church of England's forms, &c. But having been in many Romish churches since, find these forms are merely the *** of laziness, and differ but very little from one another: this you can be convinced of, in perusing a Romish massbook in English."

The following is also an extract of another of his letters to his brother. The date is torn away, but it appears to have been written from Edinburgh.

"I read with attention, the burial-letter you versified, and your poetical letter to the cripple laureat. The former I approve of, but cannot recommend the latter in point of rhyme. You'll please notice, that the three first and fifth, and the second and fourth lines in compositions of this kind, (such as Habbie Simpson, &c. chime with one another.

At first when I came here, I imagined when one spoke of entering at a precise time, that he was serious; but now I see the contrary, and that their promises are only to tantalize me: for ever since the year 1601, that the court sat here, the Edinburghers have retained some of its fashions, and among the rest, flattery to a high degree.

I have only eight scholars, but expect more*. God grant they may not prove like one Campbell, who bilk'd me out of 21. 2s. for instructions I gave him upon one foot. Although he has done me much evil, yet I shall not pray for him in the manner Paul, or some other apostle, did for Alexander the copper: smith."

* He occasionally taught the use of the sword; and likewise published a treatise on that subject.-For the above letter, as well as for several particulars contained in this narrative, I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. James Inverarity, one of Fergusson's ne phews.

CRITIQUE

ON

FERGUSSON'S WORKS.

THE reputation of Fergusson as a Poet rests almost solely upon the merit of his Scottish compositions. To such of his pieces as are written in English, very little praise is due: in some of them, indeed, it is easy to discover marks of genius; but the greater part appear to have been the earliest productions of his Muse, and are neither distinguished by originality of thought, nor superior harmony of versification.

His eclogues, entitled Morning, Noon, and Night, exhibit the general characteristics of the modern pastoral; the numbers are sufficiently smooth, but the sentiments trite and common. The reader meets with nothing that captivates his fancy, or interests his feelings. Many passages are extremely puerile. It would be difficult to produce from the writings of any poet whatsoever, a more tautological verse than the following:

Gentle in spring-time, and in summer mild.

The Complaint is likewise a very meagre production: it is scarcely superior to the strains of a free-mason

song.

There is something in the nature of pastoral poetry, which seems to preclude all hopes of succeeding in that species of composition: The life of a shepherd ad