receiving a parent's last embrace. His health was now totally ruined. Constant rheumatism, and the pain arising from a neglected ulcer, which had got into a bad state, rendered him a victim to excruciating agonies. He afterwards recovered in a great degree, by applying mercurial ointment, and using the solution of corrosive sublimate. He gives a full account of the process of the cure in a letter to Dr Moore, which concludes thus: "Had I been as well in summer, I should have exquisitely enjoyed my expedition to Scotland, which was productive of nothing to me but misery and disgust. Between friends, I am now convinced that my brain was in some measure affected; for I had a kind of coma vigil upon me from April to November without intermission. 1 In consideration of

1 [“ The remarkable expression of a Coma Vigil," says D'Israeli," difficult to explain, may be described by a verse of Shakspeare, in his antithetical account of love, a passion made up of contrarieties. Thus the Coma Vigil was

"Still-waking sleep! that is not what it is."

Calamities of Authors, vol. i., p. 22. "Pope partook of a calamity not uncommon in the family of genius, and fell into that state of exhaustion, which Smollett once experienced during half a year, of a Coma Vigil,' an affection of the brain, where the principle of life is so reduced, that all external objects appear to be passing in a dream; a sort of torpid indistinct existence. This curious circumstance is related by Spence. His perpetual application (after he set to study of himself) reduced him in four years to so bad a state of health, that after trying physicians in vain, he resolved to give way to his distemper, and sat down calmly in a full expectation of death in a short time. Under this thought he wrote letters to take a last farewell of some of his more particular friends, and amongst the rest one to the Abbé Southcot. The Abbé was extremely concerned, both for his very ill state of health, and the resolution he said he had taken,

these circumstances, I know you will forgive all my peevishness and discontent; and tell good Mrs Moore, to whom I present my most cordial respects, that, with regard to me, she has as yet seen nothing but the wrong side of the tapestry."

Finding himself at liberty to resume his literary labours, Smollett published, in 1769, the political satire, called The Adventures of an Atom, in which are satirized the several leaders of political parties, from 1754 till the dissolution of Lord Chatham's administration. His inefficient patron, Lord Bute, is not spared in this work; and Chatham is severely treated under the name of Jowler. The inconsistency of this great minister, in encouraging the German war, seems to have altered Smollett's opinion of his patriotism; and he does his acknowledged talents far less than justice, endeavouring by every means to undervalue the successes of his brilliant administration, or to impute them to causes independent of his measures. chief purpose of the work (besides that of giving the author the opportunity to raise his hand, like that of Ishmael, against every man) is to inspire a national horror of continental connexions.

The

Shortly after the publication of The Adventures of an Atom, disease again assailed Smollett with redoubled violence. Attempts being vainly made He thought there might yet be hopes, and went immediately to Dr Radcliffe, with whom he was well acquainted, told him Mr Pope's case, got full directions from him, and carried them down to Mr Pope in Windsor Forest. The chief thing, the doctor ordered him, was to apply less, and to ride every day; the following his advice soon restored him to his health.” —Quarterly Review, July, 1820.]

to obtain for him the office of Consul, in some port of the Mediterranean, he was compelled to seek a warmer climate, without better means of provision than his own precarious finances could afford.1 The kindness of his distinguished friend and countryman, Dr Armstrong, (then abroad,) procured for Dr and Mrs Smollett a house at Monte Novo, a village situated on the side of a mountain overlooking the sea, in the neighbourhood of Leghorn; a romantic and salutary abode, where he prepared for the press the last, and, like music "sweetest in the close," the most pleasing of his compositions, The Expedition of Humphry Clinker. This delightful work was published in 1771, in three volumes, 12mo, and very favourably received by the public.

The very ingenious scheme of describing the various effects produced upon different members of the same family by the same objects, was not original, though it has been supposed to be so. Anstey, the facetious author of the New Bath Guide, had employed it six or seven years before Humphry Clinker appeared. But Anstey's diverting satire was but a light sketch, compared to the finished and elaborate manner in which Smollett has, in the first place, identified his characters, and then fitted them with language, sentiments, and

["Smollet had written both for and against ministers, perhaps not always from independent motives; but to find the man whose genius has given exhilaration to millions, thus reduced to beg, and to be refused the means that might have smoothed the pillow of his death-bed in a foreign country, is a circumstance which fills the mind rather too strongly with the recollection of Cervantes."-CAMPBELL.]

powers of observation, in exact correspondence with their talents, temper, condition, and disposition. The portrait of Matthew Bramble, in which Smollett described his own peculiarities, using towards himself the same rigid anatomy which he exercised upon others, is unequalled in the line of fictitious composition. It is peculiarly striking to observe, how often, in admiring the shrewd and sound sense, active benevolence, and honourable sentiments combined in Matthew, we lose sight of the humorous peculiarities of his character, and with what effect they are suddenly recalled to our remembrance, just at the time and in the manner when we least expect them. All shrewish old maids, and simple waiting-women, which shall hereafter be drawn, must be contented with the praise of approaching in merit to Mrs Tabitha Bramble and Winifred Jenkins. The peculiarities of the hot-headed young Cantab, and the girlish romance of his sister, are admirably contrasted with the sense and pettish half-playful misanthro py of their uncle; and Humphry Clinker (who by the way resembles Strap, supposing that excellent person to have a turn towards methodism) is, as far as he goes, equally delightful. Captain Lismahago was probably no violent caricature, allowing for the manners of the time. We can remember a good and gallant officer who was said to have been his prototype, but believe the opinion was only entertained from the striking resemblance which he bore in externals to the doughty captain.

When Humphry Clinker appeared in London, the popular odium against the Scotch nation, which Wilkes and Churchill had excited, was not yet appeased, and Smollett had enemies amongst the periodical critics, who failed not to charge him with undue partiality to his own country. They observed, maliciously, but not untruly, that the cynicism of Matthew Bramble becomes gradually softened as he journeys northward, and that he who equally detested Bath and London, becomes wonderfully reconciled to walled cities and the hum of men, when he finds himself an inhabitant of the northern metropolis. It is not worth defending so excellent a work against so weak an objection. The author was a dying man, and his thoughts were turned towards the scenes of youthful gaiety and the abode of early friends, with a fond partiality, which, had they been even less deserving of his attachment, would have been not only pardonable, but praiseworthy.

Moritur, et moirens dulces reminiscitur Argos.

Smollett failed not, as he usually did, to introduce himself, with the various causes which he had to complain of the world, into the pages of this delightful romance. He appears as Mr Serle, and more boldly under his own name, and in describing his own mode of living, he satirizes without mercy the book-makers of the day, who had experienced his kindness without repaying him by gratitude. It does not, however, seem perfectly fair to make them atone for their ungracious return to his hos