But though the good people of these villages had this feeling in a very high and pure degree, yet it is not altogether confined to them; and if the Reverend Mr Darnley, in his vigintennial visits to London, has been rather angry and offended at the rude behaviour of the people in the streets who have jostled and driven against him, without having the grace to move their hats to him, that self-same Mr Darnley has in his turn inflicted upon a distinguished inhabitant of the great metropolis as serious a mortification as his reverence experienced from metropolitan neglect. We have introduced to our readers the Rev. Charles Pringle; we have now to introduce that gentleman's first-cousin, Zephaniah Pringle, Esq. This illustrious personage was not a native, but had long been an inhabitant, of the great metropolis, and, according to his own view of the matter, a great ornament to it. He was a literary man. He had been destined by his parents for agricultural pursuits, but his genius was above them. The circumstances, the trifling circumstances, which tend to develope the powers of the mind and to direct the energies into their proper channel, are always worthy of notice. Everybody knows the story of Sir Isaac Newton and the apple. But everybody does not know, but soon will know, the circumstances which made Zephaniah Pringle a critic. When Zephaniah was about twelve years old he was taken to Smatterton by his father, who had to make a call of business on Mr Kipperson. While Mr Pringle and Mr Kipperson were engaged in looking at some cattle which the latter had to dispose of, young Pringle was gaping about in the library, and admiring with great veneration all its literary wonders; but that which most powerfully arrested his attention was a plaister bust of Dr Johnson. And when the agricultural gentlemen returned to the library, Zephaniah, pointing to the bust, said, "Father, was that there thick-headed man a heathen philosopher?" Mr Kipperson, who was pleased with the young gentleman's manifestation of a taste for literature and philosophy, kindly corrected the misapprehension of the youth, and said, "No, my lad, the heathen philosophers did not wear wigs. That is a bust of Dr Johnson, the celebrated critic and lexicographer." Zephaniah, with open mouth and expanded eyes, stared his thanks to Mr Kipperson, who immediately asked the young gentleman if he was fond of reading. To which he replied in the affirmative. Whereupon Mr Kipperson kindly lent the youth Boswell's Life of Dr Johnson. From that moment young Pringle felt an irresistible impulse to become a man of letters; and with a view to gratify that ambition, his father was kind enough to let him have another quarter's Latin, in order to give him an opportunity to perfect himself in classical literature.