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My hours, that laughing wont to fleet away,

Move heavily along;
Where's now the sprightly jest, the jocund

l'ime creeps unconscious of delight:
How shall. I cheat the tedious day?

And 0—the joyless night! Where shall I rest my weary

head? How. shall I find repose on a sad widow'd bed ?

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Sickness and sorrow hovering round my bed,

Who now with anxious haste shall bring relief, With lenient hand support my drooping head,

Assuage my pains, and mitigate my grief? Should worldly business call away,

Who now shall in my absence fondly mourn, Count every minute of the loitering day,

Impatient for my quick return?
Should aught my bosom discompose,

Who now with sweet complacent air
Shall smooth the rugged-brow of care,

And soften all my woes?
Too faithful

memory- -Cease, O cease How shall I e'er regain my peace ? (O to forget her)-but how vain each art, Whilst every virtue lives imprinted on my heart.

And thou, my little cherub, left behind,

To hear a father's plaints, to share his woes,

When reason's dawn informs thy infant mind, And thy sweet-lisping tongue shall ask the cause, How oft with sorrow shall mine eyes run o'er,

When, twining round my knees, I trace

Thy mother's smile upon thy face? How oft to my full heart shalt thou restore Sad memory of my joys-ah now no more ! By blessings once enjoy'd now more distrest, More beggar by the riches once possest. My little darling !dearer to me grown By all the tears thou'st caus'd-(0 strange to

Bought with a life yet dearer than thy own,
Thy cradle purchas'd with thy mother's bier :

Who now shall seek, with fond delight,
Thy infant steps to guide aright?
She who with doating eyes would gaze
On all thy little artless ways,

By all thy soft endearments blest,
And clasp thee oft with transport to her breast,
Alas! is gone

-Yet shalt thou
A father's dearest, tenderest love;
And O sweet.senseless smiler (envied state !)
As yet unconscious of thy hapless fate,

When years thy judgment shall mature,
And reason shows those ills it cannot cure,

Wilt thou, a father's grief to assuage, Por virtue prove the phænix of the earth? (Like her, thy mother died to give thee birth)

And be the comfort of my age !


When sick and languishing I lie,
Wilt thou my Emma's wonted care supply?

And oft as to thy listening ear
Thy mother's virtues and her fate I tell,

Say, wilt thou drop the tender tear,
Whilst on the mournful theme I dwell?
Then, fondly stealing to thy father's side,

Whene'er thou seest the soft distress,
Which I would vainly seek to hide,

Say, wilt thou strive to make it less ?
To sooth my sorrows all thy cares employ,
And in my cup of grief infuse one drop of joy?


BORN 1721.-DIED 1771.

Tobias SMOLLETT was the grandson of Sir James Smollett, of Bonhill, a member of the Scottish parliament, and one of the commissioners for the union, The father of the novelist was a younger son of the. knight, and had married without his consent. He died in the prime of life, and left his children dependent on their grandfather. Were we to trust to Roderick Random's account of his relations, for authentic portraits of the author's family, we should entertain no very prepossessing idea of the old gentleman; but it appears that Sir James Smollett supported his son, and educated his grandchildren.

Smollett was born near Renton, in the parish of Cardross, and shire of Dumbarton, and passed his earliest years among those scenes on the banks of the Leven, which he has described with some interest in the Adventures of Humphrey Clinker. He received his first instructions in classical learning at the school of Dumbarton. He was afterwards removed to the college of Glasgow, where he pursued the study of medicine; and, according to the practice then usual in medical education, was bound apprentice to a Mr. Gordon, a surgeon in that city. Gordon is generaily said to have been the original of Potion in Roderick Random. This has been denied by Smollett's biographers; but their conjec ture is of no: more weight than the tradition which it contradicts. In the characters of a work, so compounded of truth and fiction, the author alone could have estimated the personality which be in. tended, and of that intention he was not probably communicative. The tradition still remaining at Glasgow is, that Smollett was a' restive apprentice, and a mischievous stripling. While at the university he cultivated the study of literature, as well as of medicine, and shewed a disposition for poetry, but very often in that bitter vein of satire which he cars ried so plentifully into the temper of his future years: He had also, before he was eighteen, composed a tragedy, entitled the “Regicide." This tragedy

was not published till after the lapse of ten years, and then it probably retained but little of its juvenile shape. When printed, “ to shame the rogues," it was ushered in by a preface, abusing the stage. managers, who had rejected it, in a strain of indignation, with which the perusal of the play itself did not dispose the reader to sympathize.

The death of his grandfather left Smollett without provision, and obliged him to leave his studies at Glasgow prematurely. He came to London, and obtained the situation of a surgeon's mate on board a ship of the line, which sailed in the unfortunate expedition to Carthagena. The strong picture of the discomforts of his naval life, which he afterwards drew, is said to have attracted considerable attention to the internal economy of our ships of war, and to have occasioned the commencement of some salu. tary reformations. But with all the improvements which have been made, it is to be feared that the situation of an assistant surgeon in the navy is still left less respectable and comfortable than it ought to be made. He is still without equal advantages to those of a surgeon's mate in the army, and is put too low in the rank of officers.

Smollett quitted the naval service in the West Indies, and resided for some time in Jamaica. He returned to London in 1746, and in the following year married a Miss Lascelles, whom he had courted in Jamaica, and with whom he had the promise of 30001. : Of this sum, however, he obtained but a

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