said my uncle Toby, and here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant. I shall get it all out of him, said the corporal, shutting the door. My uncle Toby filled his second pipe, and had it not been that he now and then wandered from the point, with considering whether it was not full as well to have the curtain (1) of the tenaille (2) a straight line as a crooked one, he might be said to have thought of nothing else but poor Le Fever and his boy the whole time he smoked it. It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe, that corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following ac count: I despaired at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick lieutenant.-Is he in the army then? said my uncle Toby.-He is, said the corporal. And in what regiment? said my uncle Toby.-I'll tell your honour, replied the corporal, every thing straight forwards, as I learnt it. -Then, Trim, I'll fill another pipe, said my uncle Toby, and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thy ease, Trim, in the window-seat, and begin thy story again. The corporal made his old bow, which generally spoke, as plain as a bow could speak it- Your honour is good:-And having done that, he sat down, as he was ordered, and began the story to my uncle Toby over again in pretty near the same words. I despaired at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back any intelligence to your honour about the lieutenant and his son; for when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of knowing every thing which was proper to be asked,-(That's a right distinction, Trim, said my uncle Toby)-I was answered, an' please your honour, that he had no servant with him; that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, (1) Parapet joining two bastions. (2) Outwork in front of the curtain. upon finding himself unable to proceed, (to join, I suppose, the regiment,) he had dismissed the morning after he came. If I get better, my dear, said he, as he gave his purse to his son to pay the man, we can hire horses from hence.-But, alas! the poor gentleman will never get from hence, said the landlady to me, for I heard the deathwatch all night long:-and when he dies, the youth, his son, will certainly die with him; for he is broken-hearted already. I was hearing this account, continued the corporal, when the youth came into the kitchen, to order the thin toast the landlord spoke of;-but I will do it for my father myself, said the youth.Pray let me save you the trouble, young gentleman, said I, taking up a fork for the purpose, and offering him my chair to sit down upon by the fire, while I did it.-I believe, Sir, said he, very modestly, I can please him best myself.-I am sure, said I, his honour will not like the toast the worse for being toasted by an old soldier. The youth took hold of my hand, and instantly burst into tears.-Poor youth! said my uncle Toby, he has been bred up from an infant in the army, and the name of a soldier, Trim, sounded in his ears like the name of a friend; I wish I had him here. -I never in the longest march, said the corporal, had so great a mind to my dinner, as I had to cry with him for company. What could be the matter with me, an' please your honour?Nothing in the world, Trim, said my uncle Toby, blowing his nose,-but that thou art a good-natured fellow. When I gave him the toast, continued the corporal, I thought it was proper to tell him I was Captain Shandy's servant, and that your honour (though a stranger) was extremely concerned for his father; and that if there was any thing in your house or cellar-(and thou might'st have added my purse too, said my uncle Toby)-he was heartily welcome to it. He made a very low bow (which was meant to your honour), but no answer;-for his 1 heart was full;-so he went up stairs | gets time to pray, he prays as heartily with the toast.-I warrant you, my as a parson-though not with all his dear, said I, as I opened the kitchen- fuss and hypocrisy. Thou shouldst not door, your father will be well again. have said that, Trim, said my uncle Mr. Yorick's curate was smoking a Toby, for God only knows who is a pipe by the kitchen fire; but said not hypocrite, and who is not.-At the a word good or bad to comfort the great and general review of us all, youth.-I thought it was wrong, added corporal, at the day of judgment, (and the corporal.-I think so too, said my not till then)-it will be seen who have uncle Toby. done their duty in this world,-and who have not; and we shall be advanced, Trim, accordingly. I hope we shall, said Trim.-It is in the Scripture, said my uncle Toby; and I will show it thee to-morrow. In the mean time we may depend upon it, Trim, for our comfort, said my uncle Toby, that God Almighty is so good and just a governor of the world, that if we have but done our duties in it,-it will never be inquired into whether we have done them in a red coat or a black one. I hope not, said the corporal.-But go on, Trim, said my uncle Toby, with thy story.-— When the lieutenant had taken his glass of sack and toast, he felt himself a little revived, and sent down into the kitchen, to let me know, that in about ten minutes he should be glad if I would step up stairs. I believe, said the landlord, he is going to say his prayers; for there was a book laid upon the chair by his bed-side; and as I shut the door, I saw his son take up a cushion. When I went up, continued the corporal, into the lieutenant's room, which I did not do till the expiration of the ten minutes-he was lying in his bed with his head raised upon his hand, with his elbow upon the pillow, and a clean white cambric handkerchief beside it.-The youth was just stooping down to take up the cushion, upon which I suppose he had been kneeling the book was laid upon the bed-and, as he rose, in taking up the cushion with one hand, he reached out his other to take it away at the same time.-Let it remain there, my dear, said the lieutenant. I thought, said the curate, that you gentlemen of the army, Mr. Trim, never said your prayers at all. I heard the poor gentleman say his prayers last night, said the landlady, very devoutly, and with my own ears, or I could not have believed it.-Are you sure of it? replied the curate.-A soldier, an' please your reverence, said I, prays as often (of his own accord) as a parson;-and when he is fighting for his king, and for his own life, and for his honour too, he has the most reason to pray to God of any one in the whole world. 'Twas well said of thee, Trim, said my uncle Toby. But when a soldier, said I, an' please your reverence, has been standing for twelve hours together in the trenches, up to his knees in cold water, or engaged, said I, for months He did not offer to speak to me, till together, in long and dangerous marches, I had walked up close to his bed-side. harassed, perhaps, in his rear to-day; If you are Captain Shandy's servant, harassing others to-morrow;-detached said he, you must present my thanks here; countermanded there;-resting to your master, with my little boy's this night out upon his arms;-beat up in his shirt the next;-benumbed in his joints; perhaps without straw in his tent to kneel on;-he must say his prayers how and when he can--I believe, said I, for I was piqued, quoth the corporal, for the reputation of the army, I believe, an't please your reverence, said I, that when a soldier thanks along with them, for his courtesy to me.-If he was of Leven's (1)—said the lieutenant-I told him your honour was.-Then, said he, I served three campaigns with him in Flanders, and remember him;-but 'tis most likely, as I had not the honour of any ac (1) Leven's regiment. quaintance with him, that he knows sake of those, who, when cooped in nothing of me.-You will tell him, betwixt a natural and a positive law, however, that the person his good-nature know not for their souls which way in has laid under obligation to him, is the world to turn themselves, that one Le Fever, a lieutenant in Angus's; notwithstanding my uncle Toby was but he knows me not, said he, a warmly engaged at that time in carrying second time, musing;--possibly he may on the siege of Dendermond, parallel my story, added he: Pray tell the with the allies, who pressed theirs on captain, I was the ensign at Breda, so vigorously, that they scarce allowed whose wife was most unfortunately him time to get his dinner:-that neverkilled with a musket-shot, as she lay theless he gave up Dendermond, though in my arms in my tent.-I remember he had already made a lodgment upon the story, an't please your honour, said the counterscarp, (1) and bent his whole I, very well.-Do you so? said he, thoughts toward the private distresses wiping his eyes with his handkerchief, at the inn; and except that he or-then well may I. In saying this, he dered the garden gate to be bolted up, drew a little ring out of his bosom, by which he might be said to have which seemed tied with a black riband turned the siege of Dendermond into a about his neck, and kissed it twice. blockade, he left Dendermond to itHere, Billy, said he; the boy flew self, to be relieved or not by the across the room to the bed-side, and French king, as the French king thought falling down upon his knee, took the good; and only considered how he himring in his hand, and kissed it too, self should relieve the poor lieutenant -then kissed his father, and sat down and his son. upon the bed and wept. I wish, said my uncle Toby, with a deep sigh, I wish, Trim, I was asleep. Your honour, replied the corporal, is too much concerned.-Shall I pour your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe?-Do, Trim, said my uncle Toby. -That kind Being, who is a friend to the friendless, shall recompense thee for this. Thou hast left this matter short, said my uncle Toby to the corporal, as he was putting him to bed, and I will tell thee in what, Trim. In the first place, when thou madest an offer of I remember, said my uncle Toby, my services to Le Fever,-as sickness sighing again, the story of the ensign and travelling are both expensive; and and his wife, with a circumstance his thou knowest he was but a poor lieumodesty omitted; and particularly well tenant, with a son to subsist (2) as well that he, as well as she, upon some as himself out of his pay,--that thou account or other, (I forget what), was didst not make an offer to him of my universally pitied by the whole regi- purse; because, had he stood in need, ment;--but finish the story thou art upon. thou knowest, Trim, he had been as -"Tis finish'd already, said the corporal, welcome to it as myself. Your hon-for I could stay no longer,-so wished our knows, said the corporal, I had no his honour a good night; young Le orders.-True, quoth my uncle Toby, Fever rose from off the bed, and saw-thou didst very right, Trim, as શ me to the bottom of the stairs: and as soldier,-but certainly very wrong as we went down together, told me they a man. had come from Ireland, and were on their route to join the regiment in Flanders. But alas! said the corporal, -the lieutenant's last day's march is over! Then what is to become of his poor boy? cried my uncle Toby. In the second place, for which, indeed, thou hast the same excuse, continued my uncle Toby,-when thou offeredst him whatever was in my house, thou shouldst have offered him my house too. A sick brother-officer should It was to my uncle Toby's eternal honour, though I tell it only for the (1) Exterior slope of the ditch. (2) Support. have the best quarters, Trim; and if we had him with us, we could tend and look to him.-Thou art an excellent nurse thyself, Trim;-and what with thy care of him, and the old woman's, and his boy's and mine together we might recruit him again at once, and set him upon his legs. -In a fortnight or three weeks, added my uncle Toby, smiling,-he might march. He will never march, an' please your honour, in this world, said the corporal.-He will march, said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the bed with one shoe off.An' please your honour, said the corporal, he will never march but to his grave. He shall march, cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch, he shall march to his regiment. -He cannot stand it, said the corporal. -He shall be supported, said my uncle Toby. He'll drop at last, said the corporal, and what will become of his boy? He shall not drop, said my uncle Toby, firmly.-Ah well-a-day,-do what we can for him, said Trim, maintaining his point, the poor soul will die. He shall not die, by G-d! cried my uncle Toby. -The Accusing Spirit, which flew up to Heaven's chancery with the oath, blush'd as he gave it in; and the Recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropp'd a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever. -My uncle Toby went to his bureau, -put his purse into his breeches pocket, and, having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a physician, -he went to bed, and fell asleep. The sun look'd bright the morning after to every eye in the village but Le Fever's, and his afflicted son's; the hand of Death pressed heavy upon his eyelids, and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle, when my uncle Toby, who had rose up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without pre face or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by the bed-side, and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother-officer would have done it, and asked him how he did,-how he had rested in the night, what was his complaint,-where was his pain, and what he could do to help him?-and without giving him time to answer any one of the inquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting with the corporal the night before for him. - You shall go home directly, Le Fever, said my uncle Toby, to my house,and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter;-and we'll have an apothecary,-and the corporal shall be your nurse, and I'll be your servant, Le Fever. There was a frankness in my uncle Toby,-not the effect of familiarity,but the cause of it, which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature. To this, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, superadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father, had the son insensibly pressed up close to his knees, and had taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it towards him. The blood and spirits of Le Fever, which were waxing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart, rallied back,-the film forsook his eyes for a moment,- he looked up wistfully in my uncle Toby's facethen cast a look upon his boy,-and that ligament, fine as it was, was never broken. Nature instantly ebb'd again;-the film returned to its place;-the pulse flutter'd,-stopp'd,-went on,-throbb'd, stopp'd again,-mov'd,--stopp'd.Shall I go on?—No! TOBIAS SMOLLET. TOBIAS SMOLLET, the author of 'Peregrine Pickle' and Roderick Random,' was born in Dumbartonshire, in the year 1721. At an early age he went to London with the intention of living by his pen, but his efforts not being successful he joined the naval expedition to Carthagena. In 1746 he returned to England and wrote pamphlets, chiefly of a political nature; he also published some poetry consisting of satires and odes. In 1748, Smollet published 'Roderick Random, which established his reputation. The most prominent features of this work are the wit and humour displayed in it, and the great variety of comic adventures which it contains. Peregrine Pickle' was the next novel which Smollet brought before the public; its style is similar to that of the former; but the scenes into which we are conducted are of a less genteel nature, than those in Roderick Random. Yet RODERICK RANDOM'S JOURNEY TO LONDON. There is no such convenience as a waggon in this country, and my finances were too weak to support the expense of hiring a horse; I determined therefore, to set out with the carriers, who transport goods from one place to another on horseback; and this scheme I accordingly put in execution, on the first day of November 1739, sitting upon a pack-saddle between two baskets; one of which contained my goods in a knapsack. But by the time we arrived at Newcastle upon Tyne, I was so fatigued with the tediousness of the carriage, and benumbed with the coldness of the weather, that I resolved to travel the rest of my journey on foot, rather than proceed in such a disagreeable manner. The hostler of the inn, at which we put up, understanding I was bound for London, advised me to take my passage in a collier, which would be both cheap and expeditious, and withal much easier than to walk upwards of three hundred miles through deep roads in the wintertime; a journey which he believed I had not strength enough to perform. I was almost persuaded to take his advice, when one day stepping into a barber's shop to be shaved, the young man, while he lathered my face, accosted me thus: Sir, I presume you are a Scotchman.' I answered in the affirmative. Pray,' continued he, 'from what part of Scotland?' I no sooner these faults are overbalanced by the never-censing wit, and drollery of the book. His next work was "The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom' which appeared in 1754, and is certainly written in a somewhat higher moral tone than its predecessors. His translation of Don Quixote is considered in general a failure; he has not been uniformly successful in conveying the meaning of the original. In 1762 appeared his 'Launcelot Greaves,' which is perhaps the worst of his productions. After this Smollet published a continuation of Hume's History of England, in which composition he is said only to have employed two months. His last work was 'Humphrey Clinker,' which although written in the last year of the author's life, shows no diminution of talent. Smollet died at Leghorn, in 1771, to which place he had repaired for the sake of his health. told him than he discovered great emotion, and not confining his operation to my chin and upper lip, he smeared my whole face with great agitation. I was so offended at his profusion, that starting up I asked him what the devil he meant by using me so?-He begged pardon, telling me his joy at meeting with a countryman had occasioned some confusion in him, and craved my name.-But when I declared my name was Random, he exclaimed in a rapture: 'How, Rory Random?' The same, I replied, looking at him with astonishment. 'What,' cried he, 'don't you know your old school-fellow, Hugh Strap? At that instant recollecting his face, I flew into his arms, and in the transport of my joy, gave him back one half of the suds he had so lavishly bestowed on my countenance; so that we made a very ludicrous appearance, and furnished a great deal of mirth for his master and shopmates, who were witnesses of this scene.When our mutual caresses were over, I sat down again to be shaved, but the poor fellow's nerves were so discomposed by this unexpected meeting, that his hand could scarcely hold the razor, with which nevertheless he found means to cut me in three places in as many strokes. His master, perceiving his disorder, bade another supply his place, and after the operation was performed, gave Strap leave to pass the rest of the day with me.-We retired immediately to my lodgings, where, calling |