CHAPTER VIII.

TOBIAS SMOLLETT.

"IN February was tried a criminal of a still different complexion. Dr. Smollett was convicted, in the King's Bench, of publishing scurrilous abuse on Admiral Knowles in the 'Critical Review.' Smollett was a worthless man, and only mentioned here because author of a History of England,' of the errors in which, posterity ought to be warned. Smollett was bred a sea-surgeon, and turned author. He wrote a tragedy, and sent it to Lord Lyttelton, with whom he was not acquainted, Lord Lyttelton, not caring to point out its defects, civilly advised him to try comedy. He wrote one, and solicited the same lord to recommend it to the stage. The latter excused himself; but promised, if it should be acted, to do all the service in his power for the author. Smollett's return was drawing an abusive portrait of Lord Lyttelton in Roderick Random,' a novel-of which sort he published two or three. His next attempt was on the History of England,' a work in which he engaged for booksellers, and finished, though four volumes in quarto, in two years; yet an easy task, as being pilfered from other histories. Accordingly, it was little noticed till it came down to the present times; then, though compiled of the libels of the age and the most paltry materials, yet, being heightened by personal invectives, strong Jacobitism and the worst representations of the Duke of Cumberland's conduct in Scotland, the sale was prodigious. Eleven thousand copies of that trash were instantly sold; while, at the same time, the University of Oxford ventured to print but

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Lord Clarendon's

two thousand of that inimitable work, Life' a reflection on the age sad to mention, and yet too true to be suppressed. Smollett's work was again printed, and again tasted; it was adorned with wretched prints, except two or three by Strange, who could not refuse his admirable graver to the service of the Jacobite cause. Smollett then engaged in a monthly magazine, called the 'Critical Review,' the scope of which was to decry any work that appeared favourable to the principles of the Revolution. Nor was he single in that measure. The Scotch in the heart of London assumed a dictatorial power of reviling every book that censured the Stuarts, or upheld the Revolution-a provocation they ought to have remembered when the tide rolled back upon them. Smollett, while in prison, undertook a new magazine; and, notwithstanding the notoriety of his dissatisfaction, obtained the King's patent for it by the interest of Mr. Pitt, to whom he had dedicated his history. In the following reign he was hired to write a scurrilous paper, called 'The Briton,' against that very patron, Mr. Pitt.”

Such is Horace Walpole's picture of Smollett.

There is another side to the story. Disraeli, in his "Calamities of Authors," says, "Of most authors by profession,' who has displayed a more fruitful genius, and exercised a more intense industry, with a loftier sense of his independence than Smollett ?"

Tobias George Smollett was born in the year 1721, about two years after the death of Joseph Addison, and about fourteen years after the birth of Fielding. The place of his birth was the old house of Dalquhurn, in the valley of Leven, unquestionably one of the most lovely parts of Britain. His paternal grandfather was Sir James Smollett, of Bonhill, who was educated for the Bar, was advanced to the dignity of a Commissary (Consistorial Judge) of Edinburgh, and when member of the Scottish Parliament for

the burgh of Dumbarton, lent his aid to dissolve that representative body for ever, being one of the commissioners appointed for framing the union with England. Sir James married a daughter of Sir Aulay Mac Auley, of Ardincaple, and had by her four sons of whom Archibald was the youngest.

This youngest son, Archibald, was guilty of the greatest act of iniquity short of parricide a son can be guilty of; he married a young lady against his father's will. She was endowed with no fortune in the shape of coin, and, what made the son's disobedience yet more aggravating to the father, she was virtuous, beautiful, and of a true womanly mind. Sir James did not forthwith cut his wayward boy, for society would have cried shame on such a violent proceeding; he allowed him the farmhouse of Dalquhurn for a residence, and bestowed on him something approaching sufficient means. Archibald, however, did not tax his father's liberality many years, for he died soon after he had constructed two sons and a daughter.

Of this young family, left dependent on their learned grandpapa, the eldest embraced the military life, and perished at sea by the wrecking of a transport; the girl, Jane, married a certain Mr. Telfer, and had a son who eventually inherited the Judge's estate, Bonhill; and the youngest, Tobias, worked hard, and became celebrated; and, as a consequence of his merit, was represented by one half the world as everything that was infamous, and died worth not very many pence.

Sir James punished the disobedience of his dead son by not leaving his offspring any provision. The old Commissary, doubtless, had a great admiration for patriarchal prerogative, and held that a man ought to be the god of his own household; anyhow he visited the sin of the father on the children. Tobias was fully revenged on the old wretch, for in his novel of "Roderick Random" he called his grand

father back into the life beneath the sun, and after rating him plentifully for the hardness of his heart, packed him off to that place which is never mentioned, and very rarely thought about, in polite society.

Little Toby, as a child, was reared like Fielding, in accordance with the sentiments of the age, being well whipped every day, whether he deserved it or not; the only difference in his punishments being, that he was flogged a good deal worse when he had not misconducted himself than when he had. After passing some years at the Dumbarton Grammar School, he went to the University of Glasgow, where he studied with more than average diligence. In that city, also, he was bound apprentice to Mr. John Gordon, a respectable surgeon, et cetera.

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In Glasgow, the youth Tobias commenced the exercise of his talent for sarcasm and ridicule, holding all the “ unco guid" of the city up to laughter, and making himself generally disagreeable, as a clever lad of sixteen or seventeen years is too apt to do. He was commonly spoken of as lacking decorum," and being the exact reverse of proper. 66 On a winter evening," says Dr. Moore, "when the streets were covered with snow, Smollett happened to be engaged in a snow-ball fight with a few boys of his own age. Among his associates was the apprentice of that surgeon who is supposed to have been delineated under the name of Crab, in "Roderick Random." He entered his shop while his apprentice was in the heat of the engagement. On the return of the latter, the master remonstrated severely with him for his negligence in quitting the shop. The youth excused himself by saying that, while he was employed making up a prescription, a fellow had hit him with a snow-ball, and he had been in pursuit of the delinquent. "A mighty probable story truly," said the master, in an ironical tone, "I wonder how long I should stand here," added he, "before it would enter any mortal's head to throw a snow ball at me." While

he

he was holding his head erect, with a most scornful air, received a very severe blow in the face with a snow-ball. Smollett, who stood behind the pillar at the shop door, had heard the dialogue; and perceiving that his companion was puzzled for an answer, he extricated him by a repartee equally smart and à propos." I don't well see how it was possible for Mr. Crab, or Mrs. Crab, or the little Crabs to like Tobias after this! But he was a great favourite with the girls of the place. Girls always have a penchant for a naughty boy; and then this naughty boy wrote poetry about their eyelashes, and kissed them on all safe occasions without being so rude as to ask their leave.

In his eighteenth year, Smollett found himself penniless, for his amiable grandfather died in that year without leaving him even a shilling to buy a rope with, and of course his well-to-do relations declined to assist him. They all said that poverty was a fine thing for a young man, and comforted their luckless kinsman with the assurance that adversity would "bring out all the stuff that was in him." To hear rich relations talk to a needy petitioner, induces the belief that the best thing a young man of fortune can do, is to make over his wealth to his enemy, or, if he has no enemy, get rid of it by placing it in the hands of a prodigiously religious banker. In his nineteenth year Smollett went to London, without patronage and without money, but with a wonderful tragedy, called "The Regicide," in his pocket. This drama ought, of course, in the author's estimation, to have made his fortune; but, what with the folly of noble patrons who wouldn't take it up, and the stupidity of managers who wouldn't present it, it did not do any such thing. Finding society did not just at that time stand in need of his dramatic genius, and that he ran a good chance of starving, unless he turned lacquey or pickpocket, he gladly accepted the appointment of surgeon's mate, on board a