finished. He thus found himself under a stern necessity of quitting the land
of his fathers, that he might find the means of living elsewhere a necessity as
grievous to a literary Scot as it is to the literary man of any country whatever.
The direction of his pilgrimage alone was in question, and that was quickly
settled. His father and four brothers, who had followed the occupation of
agriculture, had been as unfortunate as himself, and were equally ready to embark with him in the bold enterprise of commencing life anew, while South
Africa was at present the favourite quarter of Scottish emigration. A grant of
land was soon obtained from government, at this time desirous of colonizing
the unoccupied districts of the Cape of Good Hope, and Thomas Pringle, accompanied by his father, two brothers, and several friends comprising, in all,
twelve men, six women, and six children, embarked for the Cape in February, 1820.
Of all possible governments, that of Sancho Panza's island of Barataria not excepted, the most difficult of management, and the most prolific of political discontent and quarrel, is that of a British colony. We well know that it is neither the most contented nor the most moral of our population who leave their native land for the purpose of becoming colonists. On the contrary, every one who has made his country too hot for him—every one who hates the powers that be, and wishes to escape their restrictions—every one who dreams some impossible theory of liberty, which he hopes to realize at the greatest possible distance from the home-government—hoists sail for the new land, as if everything were to be reversed for the better the nearer he approaches the antipodes. With such a population, what system of rule short of martial law can be available? A soldier-governor is therefore commonly imposed upon our colonies; one who, having been accustomed to implicit military obedience, will have no toleration either for mutiny or murmur. In such a case the result will be misunderstanding and discontent between the ruler and the ruled. The former, while he cries "Eyes right !" is only looked at the more askew; and while he thinks of the summary processes of the black hole or the triangles, his mutinous brigades are talking about the rights of man, the liberty of the subject, Brutus and Hampden, and Magna Charta. Such is the origin of nine-tenths of our colonial quarrels; and, in most cases, they may be traced to misunderstanding rather than misrule. These explanations it would perhaps be well to keep in mind, when we read of the injuries sustained by Thomas Pringle at the hands of our Cape government.
The emigrant party landed at Algoa Bay, on the 5th of June, 1820, and proceeded to their location, a wild and lonely district, to which they gave the name of Glen-Lynden. It comprised twenty thousand acres of land a magnificent idea when applied to the rich fields of England or even of Scotland, but very different in South Africa, where everything was to be grown, and where, in perhaps half the territory at least, nothing could be made to grow. Here Thomas Pringle, whose lameness precluded him from more active employment, officiated as mechanic, gardener, physician, teacher, and occasionally as chaplain, to the emigrants and their neighbours. After having remained with them till 1822, when they were comfortably settled, Pringle travelled by land for the purpose of residing at Cape Town, and during this journey his observant eye saw much of what was strange and interesting, a full account of which he afterwards published in his "Narrative." The situation of librarian to the government library at Cape Town had been already awarded him, and
