out of his time, travelled to Loudon on foot, with occasional lifts in the waggon: the adventures in that vehicle are described with inimitable humour in his novel, his companion being a Scotch barber's boy, named Hugh Strap. In London he taught in a school, and then served a French apothecary; but unable to eke out a scanty subsistence, he was reduced to great shifts, living in a garret, where poor Strap came every evening to share with him the pittance earned by mowing grissly beards, as a journeyman barber. One evening, passing over Towerhill, he was seized by a press-gang, and sent on board a tender, from thence put on board a ship bound to the West Indies, and promoted to be a surgeon's mate. He was present at the unsuccessful attack upon Porto Bello, when Admiral Hosier and several hundreds of his men perished by the sword and the pestiTence he has justly animadverted upon this in his novel. Smollett was of a haughty, proud, and unconciliating temper: he gained no friends, and either quitted the navy in disgust, or was turned on shore, which, is not known. As a medical man he tried various schemes to raise his fortune without success, and failing at Bath, he resolved to quit 'the line of materia medica, and take up the pen. He commenced writer in the magazines and reviews, and met with great encouragement, both from the booksellers and the public, who admired his bold and sarcastic style, which was then new to the world-the freedom of the press being only in its infancy. "The Adventures of an Atom," now the least read of all his works, was collected into a volume, and sold so well, as to induce him to turn his mind to novel writing. "Roderick Random" amused his idle hours for three years, and when it and "Ferdinand Count Fathom" appeared, established his fame as a novellist above all his competitors. He now had ample employment from the booksellers, and edited the "Gentleman's Magazine with great success and profit. The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle came next, and were even more rapturously received than Roderick Random. "Sir Launcelot Greaves," "The British Quixote," kept pace with the fame he had obtained and his last novel, "The Journey of Humphrey Clinker,' completed his amusing labours: it was written to beguile a tedious illness, and shews the amazing strength of his mind, when he thus employed himself on the brink of the grave; for he died on the very day week after he had finished it, never having obtained that independence he so earnestly desired, and so assiduously toiled to obtain. When he was at the acme of his worldly fame, he used to feast, on a Sunday, a numerous set of old literary acquaintauces, whom he designated Sabbattarians, being kept in their garrets all the other days of the week. One of his friends, in tolerable circumstances, was inordinately fat; and, at one of these convivial entertainments, challenged a poor half-starved poet to run a race round the garden-the "lean and slippered pantaloon" to wear his huge, new, yellow-topped boots, and he the poet's slippers. The wager was put down, and they started; the poet took the lead; but as Smollett's back garden door was open, he darted out, and made clear off with the fat man's new bools. 6: Gil "Don Smollett was very kind to his old and poor friends, visiting and relieving them beyond what prudence dictated; several of them he released from prison, where they were confined for small debts; and one, to whom he lent a manuscript to copy for the press, and for which sum he paid him in advance, actually printed it under his own name, and made a handsome sum by his roguery. When it was told Smollett, he said, "I am glad my genius can get him a dinner. I find it cheaper than supplying him with one out of my purse.' He made a very handsome sum by translating Blas" from the French, and Quixote" from the Spanish: they are still accounted our best versions of these famous authors. His Continuation of Hume's History of England" is equal to his preceder, though both are clouded by the spirit of party. He was every way an elegant scholar; but wanted industry, and was too partial to the fair sex and the pleasures of the festive board. When his health began to decline, he travelled through France_and Italy, taking Rome in his way to Leghorn. It is him that Sterne has satirized in his "Sentimental Journey,' under the name of "Smelfungus." Had Sterne been as afflicted with bodily ailments-as poor Smollett, he also would have travelled from Dan to Beersheba, and found it all barren. 66 His letters from Rome, when he was unable to walk without assistance, are in his usual jocund style; and though he was sensible he had not long to live, he appeared not afraid or loath to depart, but speaks of his journey to another world, as if it were only going a stage from Rome. "I have had," says he, "my share of the good things of this life, and have no reason to do otherwise than thank God for all his mercies, hoping he will suffer me to quit this helpless state of being, without further pain than I at present endure." When he arrived at Leghorn he was hospitably received by all the British in the place, and the Grand Duke of Tuscany ordered him apartments in a palace near the sea-side-there he experienced a state of convalescence, and began to hope for a longer extension of his span. He removed from the city, where the fame of his merits brought him too many visitors, to a neat cottage on the banks of the River Arno, about nine miles from Leghorn, there he amused himself with reading, and wandering on its flowery banks for two summers. He was too weak for attempting any literary composition; and without any symptoms of having grown worse, he died as calmly as he wished. His old domestic found him on a turf seat, which stood under a fig tree, surrounded on three sides with flowering shrubs, leaning his head against the tree, with a book in his hand, and quite dead. His tomb is erected on the very spot, and was done at the expense of the British merchants and gentry resident at Leghorn and Florence. Inside of the tomb is an inscription, in Latin and Italian, implying Scotland gave him birth, The first Novelist of his age. The Plate represents his tomb as it stood in the year 1790; but in the desolations that have visited unhappy Italy, his tomb-the grave of genius-did not escape devastation. A great part of it is now thrown down, and the ruins are every where twined round with laurel and myrtle. When the French occupied Leghorn, Smollett's tomb was the head-quarters of a subaltern, who lived in it, and his small party in the cottages adjoining. There is a stone table in the centre, around which twenty persons may conveniently sit, and the roof is 10 feet high; the door is large, and the silver Arno flows majestically by, about fifty yards: from the frout. When the British fleet, commauded by Lords Hood and Hotham, made Leghorn roads a rendezvous, it was the fa shion to make parties up the Arno, and dine in the tomb of the British novelist. Sometimes twenty officers have sat down, and fired their pistols as a requiem over his grave, when they toasted his health. The writer was one of a party, where a Lieutenant (I decline mentioning his name) insisted upon bumpering Smollett's health three times over; he was asked the reason of his enthusiasm, and if he knew who Sinollett was. "Not exactly," was the reply; "for he kicked the bucket before my time, but I suppose he was some great Italian Admiral in the days of the Romans." Smollett's tomb has been the scene of much festivity-a Scotch sailor, belonging to the Diadem, Captain Towry, was taken thither with his sweetheart, by the officers, and married in the sepul chre of genius. A dance and a feast ensued; and had Smollett been able to pop his head above the earth, he would have witnessed a scene worthy of the most brilliant touches of his quaint and humorous pen; for no man ever pourtrayed sea characters to the life more truly and pleasingly than he did. When Lord Byron lived at Pisa, he often visited this most romantic spotso dear to every free-born Englishman; and it is much to be wondered at, that he never strung his lyre, and breathed an anthem to the memory of a kindred soul. His Lordship, no doubt, wrote much which has not yet seen the light, and never may; for I cannot persuade myself he would let such an opportunity escape of paying a tribute to the worth of a poet, a novelist, and a historian. It is not intended here to say any thing of the merits of Smollett as an author: they are well known, and properly appreciated, and his name will be as lasting as his "land's language." Smollett left no children; and, like Absalom, he has his pillar to perpetuate his name, near Dumbarton, on the banks of Loch Lomond, where he was born: it is almost as romantic and picturesque as his tomb on the banks of the Arno; and both were erected by strangers! his country has, as yet, awarded him "No storied urn or animated bust." But he lives in the heart's core of every one that truly loves, and honourably prides in the literature of his native land. His works have been recently translated into the Russian language, and a, humorous play written and performed, founded on his romance of Sir Lancelot Greaves. PUBLIC LIFE OF COMMODORE PORTER, OF THE AMERICAN NAVY. Commodore Porter, who has just been tried and censured for imprudent expressions, by a court martial in the American navy, is a man of very odd character. He is not an American by birth, but born near Bridport in Dorsetshire; his father died when he was an infant, and left him heir to a handsome fortune, with only one hundred a year to his widow. Young Roberts went to sea in the navy, and at once sailed on board L'Aigle frigate, commanded by Captain luglefield, who was so providentially preserved in a boat with five others when the Centaur, 74, foundered in the Atlantic Ocean. Roberts was soon an expert seaman, and at the age of seventeen came into possession of 8001. per annum-his father's will had fixed his majority at that period. He immediately made over to his mother for ever 3001. per annum, and to his only sister 2001., leaving himself with only three: and he often declared that he could make a fortune by his talents. He was rather of a dissipated character, and quite unmanageable on board; his disposition was always haughty and imperious when he was a lieutenant on board the Orion, 74, in the river Tagus, he struck a sailor severely with a rope's end; the man jumped overboard and was drowned; the tide was running too strong to save him: he was much censured for this, but it is presumed he was not in fault, as no notice was taken of it by the superior powers. He was sent in a small armed felucca, of 6 guns and 30 men, to pursue an Algerine Corsair, that had annoyed our trade in the straits of Gibraltar exceedingly, and committed many cruelties on the crews of neutral ships which he plundered. Mr. Roberts fell in with her near Melillo, and brought her to action; she resisted gallantly, and though he twice boarded her, he was driven back and himself wounded. This disaster only made him more desirous to meet her again, and after cruizing three weeks in dreadful winter weather, in a half-decked vessel, he again had the satisfaction to meet with her, having a prize in tow; he brought her to action, and finally drove her on shore to a place called Estora, on the coast of Barbary; her crew threw themselves into a battery of two guns, and tried to cover their vessel; but Mr. Roberts anchored his own vessel out of cannon shot, and putting his little crew of 26 men into two boats, he rowed in and set fire to the Corsair's galley, which blew up. and then took possession of her prize; it proved to be an English brig, and on board of her were the master and seven men in irons; these added to his crew made a complement of 36 men; and though it was night-fall, he pulled at once on shore. All the inhabitants of the town fled into the country. He landed under a heavy fire of grape shot, and glass bottles, which were rammed into the guns; a party of the enemy marched out of the fort to meet him, and this proved their ruin, for he charged them with the bayonet, an invincible weapon in the hands of an Englishman, and drove them before him; the gates of the fort were opened to admit the fugitives, and the English rushed in with them, Mr. Roberts leading the way, and cutting down the chief commander; they then surrendered, and he suffered them to take a boat from the beach and depart: there were 59 of them alive and 27 dead when he gained possession of the fort. Having secured a booty of 10,000 gold cobs and 30 bales of silk, he blew up the fort and re-embarked his men,one only being killed and nine wounded. Ile was fortunate, for a body of Turkish horse arrived on the beach and exchanged shots with him as he rowed away. The plunder was then equally divided betwixt his own crew and those of the merchant brig, who had so gallantly assisted him. After this, encouraged by his success, he boarded an Algerine schooner at anchor, under a battery near Cape Bon, and carried her, but with great difficulty, for he lost nine men, and was himself severely wounded by a sabre in the face; she mounted six carriage and four swivėl guns, and into her he removed himself and crew, selling his old vessel and recruiting his crew with a dozen of Maltese sailors. He recaptured a ship homeward bound from Smyrna, with a cargo on board valued at 30,0001: she was within two miles of Tunis, when he took her, engaging three galleys who convoyed her, one of which was sunk, and the others with great difficulty got into the Goleta, where the Bey, who had witnessed, the action, was so incensed at losing so very valuable a prize, he ordered the commanders of the galleys to have their heads struck off by a sabre, in his presence, on the decks of their own vessels. Mr. Roberts now rejoined his own ship at Gibraltar, and was by the admiral promised promotion the first vacancy that occurred. He was dissatis fed; and thought, with some degree of reason, that he should have been promoted as commander into the vessel he had brought back, instead of which a relative of the admiral's was made into her. At Syracuse, when Nelson's fleet were victualling, in order to pursue the French fleet to Egypt, Mr. Roberts was very active on shore, in collecting supplies of cattle; but his intemperate conduct induced him to draw his sword upon a Sicilian colonel, one of the best friends the British had, and whom it was their interest not to offend, as the supplies were reluctantly granted, and only to be had through his kind interference. For this offence, he was ordered into con finement, it being the admirals intention to release him, as soon as he sailed from Syracuse. Always led away by his passion, Mr. Roberts remonstrated with unbecoming warmth, and was ordered to be closely confined to his cabin, which was in the gun room, near the stern port. At night he lowered himself down into the sea and swam on shore, leaving a letter to say "his services were ill requited, and he would go into the American service," a threat he soon put into execution.— He was not molested on shore, though a deserter, and even might have been received on board again, if he had condescended to make an apology for his con. duct, but his proud spirit could not brook submission, and he was separated from the British navy for ever. He called out the Sicilian colonel, who had been the cause of his disgrace, and ran him through the body; he then escaped to Augusta and embarked for Naples, where he bought a schooner, and taking on board a cargo of fruit, sailed and arrived in safety at Plymouth. His mother, who had married again, received him very unkindly, and his sister, who had married an American gentleman, was settled at New York; this determined his fate, and he proceeded thither in his schooner, in possession of a handsome independence. He was received into the service of the United States upon his first application, and, after some little servitude as a volunteer, made a lieutenant, and put in command of a three masted schooner. He was chiefly employed in surveying, and making charts of the Bay of Fundy, which do high honour to his talents as a draftsman and a navigator. On his return he married a lady named Porter, and changed his name to her's immediately, to efface, it is supposed, all memory of his desertion from the British service. His hatred to this country is implac able; every order he issued during the war to his crews on board, or to his men on shore, are marked with bitter strokes of malignity against his native land. He was first lieutenant of Commodore Truscott's ship, when he fought and captured" the Iphigenia" of 44 guns,the first French ship of war taken by the Americans, and whose naval skill, the French, previous to this action had held in sovereign contempt-He was made a captain, and bore several commands, with honour to himself and the country he served. The loss of his wife, to whom he was devotedly attached, affected his mind, and he was for a long period in a hopeless state, approaching to a total deprivation of intellect. He recovered in time to do the English much damage in the late war. He it was who recommended the Torpedo system to Congress, and he directed in person the one which exploded a-head of Sir Thomas Hardy's ship: had the event been retarded two minutes, that 74 would have been shattered to atoms. He His noble and daring conduct, at the head of only 30 men, when Washington was burnt, entitles him to the gratitude of every true American; he was then severely wounded in three places. commanded on the Lakes, and took the lead of the gun-boats, carrying a broad pendant, at a schooner's mast head, when the British squadron were totally defeated, and Commodore Downie killed, His eminent merits caused him to be selected to cruise in the South Seas, against our ships engaged in the whale fishery. He hoisted his pendant on board the Essex of 36 guns, and in twelve months completely ruined our trade, taking and destroying 13 sail of whalers, valued at half a million of money. He fell in with the British ship Java, of 44 guns, whose crew, from dislike to their captain, surrendered the ship to him after a very feeble resistance. This gallantry in running alongside of a ship so superior in force (for half his crew were absent in prizes) was equally commendable as though she had offered a determined resistance.. He was himself, unfortunate in meet ing with three British ships, whoin turn captured the Essex, but not before he had made the fortunes of himself and crew, and nearly circumnavigated the globe. His conduct in ravaging and destroying the dwellings and fields of a whole island, leaving the natives in a state of starvation, because they could not, or would not, deliver up some of his crew who had deserted, merits severe reprobation it was cruel, disgraceful, and impolitlc, and casts a shade over Porter's brightest laurels. The illicit commerce betwixt his men and the females of the Society islands, encouraged by his own example, cannot be defended on any moral principle, and under trying circumstances at sea, when death rode upon every blast, he did not encourage his men to exert themselves, and rely upon divine Providence for succour; but in his notes addressed to them on these awful occasions, he holds out, as the reward of all their toils, the joys in store for them at the Society islands, in the arms of the most beautiful and voluptuous women in the world. He may live to repent of this debauchery of body and mind, which no one can think of without a sigh, or speak of without execration. Some disappointment about promotion was the cause of bis being lately tried by a Court Martial; but the submission with which he bowed to the sentence of the laws, proves that time has moderated his passions, and he may yet die as good a man, as he has lived an excellent officer. Commodore Porter is about 47 years of age, and in robust health; he is a single man, and lives in elegant style on a large fortune, which he shares with the poor around him. He has some claims to literary talent; and, divesting his History of the Voyage made by the Essex Frigate to the South Sea," of egotism, it will be read with pleasure by landsmen, and profit by sailors, as long as the fame of the author lives in America. THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS, AT SYRACUSE. This singular curiosity is situated near the city of Syracuse, on the eastern coast of the island of Sicily; it is a cave hewn in the solid rock, and entered by a small door, which on the outside has the appearance of being a natural perforation in the side of the mountain. When you are inside it appears fifty feet high, and three in circumference, and round it are small cells capable of holding three or four persons each: there are no doors to these caves, and in the sides are yet seen the bolts to which the chains of the prisoners were fastened. In the middle of the large cave are ruins of a marble table, and a circular seat, and beneath it are two wells of clear water. The prisoners, no doubt, had each a sufficient length of chain to reach this table, and there took their solitary meal in common. How many hundreds may have lived and died in this dismal state of captivity, where pleasure never dawned, and hope never smiled, is a reflection almost too strong for the mind to bear. The miseries that tyrants in all ages have inflicted on the human race, should make us rejoice that we live in an age when solitary imprisonment or lingering death, at the will of one man, cannot await us; but where laws are ever open by which alone the guilty can suffer, and extend their protection alike to the rich and poor. This cave was originally the prison where Dionysius the tyrant confined his state victims, and his palace was built over it. A small hole in the roof conveyed to his ear the slightest whisper uttered by the wretched beings below. This hole is still there: by placing one ear to it, a sentence spoken below, in the smallest voice, sounds as if it issued through a speaking trumpet, and a pistol fired echoes like the loudest cannon. This monument of the tyrant's cruelty bids fair never to perish-lie has passed away with all his grandeur, but the proof of his iniquity still remains, and calls for execration on his memory. The ground above the cave, where ́ his palace stood, is covered with the ruins of mouldering statues and broken pillars of the finest marble and most elegant construction, striking proofs of the vanity of all earthly splendour. This tyrant, it is said, placed his favorite Damocles, who wished to reign for one day, on a throne with a sword suspended over his head by a single hair, to shew the dangers which surrounded Royalty. The story of Damon and Pythias, so well known to every school boy, where one remained to be exccuted if the other did not return, happened also in this tyrant's reign, who appears to have been possessed of great good sense, which he prostituted at the shrine of false ambition, and quenched the bright radiance of his mind in blood. He was driven from his throne, and became an exile at Corinth, a city which he had often endeavoured to destroy. How generous must the Greeks have been to afford such a monster shelter, and leisure to repent of his crimes!Dionysius (so says Plutarch) bore his misfortunes with philosophy and resignation, and taught a school of boys for his support. When he was on the throne |