<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1>The Adventures of Roderick Random</h1>
<h2 class="no-break">by Tobias Smollett</h2>
<hr />
<h2>Contents</h2>
<table summary="" >
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#pref01">THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#pref02">APOLOGUE</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap01">CHAPTER I.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap02">CHAPTER II.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap03">CHAPTER III.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap05">CHAPTER V.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap10">CHAPTER X.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap35">CHAPTER XXXV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap36">CHAPTER XXXVI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap37">CHAPTER XXXVII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap38">CHAPTER XXXVIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap39">CHAPTER XXXIX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap40">CHAPTER XL.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap41">CHAPTER XLI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap42">CHAPTER XLII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap43">CHAPTER XLIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap44">CHAPTER XLIV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap45">CHAPTER XLV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap46">CHAPTER XLVI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap47">CHAPTER XLVII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap48">CHAPTER XLVIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap49">CHAPTER XLIX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap50">CHAPTER L.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap51">CHAPTER LI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap52">CHAPTER LII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap53">CHAPTER LIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap54">CHAPTER LIV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap55">CHAPTER LV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap56">CHAPTER LVI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap57">CHAPTER LVII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap58">CHAPTER LVIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap59">CHAPTER LIX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap60">CHAPTER LX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap61">CHAPTER LXI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap62">CHAPTER LXII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap63">CHAPTER LXIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap64">CHAPTER LXIV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap65">CHAPTER LXV.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap66">CHAPTER LXVI.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap67">CHAPTER LXVII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap68">CHAPTER LXVIII.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> <SPAN href="#chap69">CHAPTER LXIX.</SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr />
<h2><SPAN name="pref01"></SPAN>THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE</h2>
<p>Of all kinds of satire, there is none so entertaining and universally
improving, as that which is introduced, as it were occasionally, in the course
of an interesting story, which brings every incident home to life, and by
representing familiar scenes in an uncommon and amusing point of view, invests
them with all the graces of novelty, while nature is appealed to in every
particular. The reader gratifies his curiosity in pursuing the adventures of a
person in whose favour he is prepossessed; he espouses his cause, he
sympathises with him in his distress, his indignation is heated against the
authors of his calamity: the humane passions are inflamed; the contrast between
dejected virtue and insulting vice appears with greater aggravation, and every
impression having a double force on the imagination, the memory retains the
circumstance, and the heart improves by the example. The attention is not tired
with a bare catalogue of characters, but agreeably diverted with all the
variety of invention; and the vicissitudes of life appear in their peculiar
circumstances, opening an ample field for wit and humour.</p>
<p>Romance, no doubt, owes its origin to ignorance, vanity, and superstition. In
the dark ages of the World, when a man had rendered himself famous for wisdom
or valour, his family and adherents availed themselves of his superior
qualities, magnified his virtues, and represented his character and person as
sacred and supernatural. The vulgar easily swallowed the bait, implored his
protection, and yielded the tribute of homage and praise, even to adoration;
his exploits were handed down to posterity with a thousand exaggerations; they
were repeated as incitements to virtue; divine honours were paid, and altars
erected to his memory, for the encouragement of those who attempted to imitate
his example; and hence arose the heathen mythology, which is no other than a
collection of extravagant romances. As learning advanced, and genius received
cultivation, these stories were embellished with the graces of poetry, that
they might the better recommend themselves to the attention; they were sung in
public, at festivals, for the instruction and delight of the audience; and
rehearsed before battle, as incentives to deeds of glory. Thus tragedy and the
epic muse were born, and, in the progress of taste, arrived at perfection. It
is no wonder that the ancients could not relish a fable in prose, after they
had seen so many remarkable events celebrated in verse by their best poets; we
therefore find no romance among them during the era of their excellence, unless
the <i>Cyropædia</i> of Xenophon may be so called; and it was not till arts and
sciences began to revive after the irruption of the barbarians into Europe,
that anything of this kind appeared. But when the minds of men were debauched
by the imposition of priestcraft to the most absurd pitch of credulity, the
authors of romance arose, and losing sight of probability, filled their
performances with the most monstrous hyperboles. If they could not equal the
ancient poets in point of genius they were resolved to excel them in fiction,
and apply to the wonder, rather than the judgment, of their readers.
Accordingly, they brought necromancy to their aid, and instead of supporting
the character of their heroes by dignity of sentiment and practice,
distinguished them by their bodily strength, activity, and extravagance of
behaviour. Although nothing could be more ludicrous and unnatural than the
figures they drew, they did not want patrons and admirers; and the world
actually began to be infected with the spirit of knight-errantry, when
Cervantes, by an inimitable piece of ridicule, reformed the taste of mankind,
representing chivalry in the right point of view, and converting romance to
purposes far more useful and entertaining, by making it assume the sock, and
point out the follies of ordinary life.</p>
<p>The same method has been practised by other Spanish and French authors, and by
none more successfully than by Monsieur Le Sage, who, in his <i>Adventures of
Gil Blas</i>, has described the knavery and foibles of life, with infinite
humour and sagacity. The following sheets I have modelled on his plan, taking
me liberty, however, to differ from him in the execution, where I thought his
particular situations were uncommon, extravagant, or peculiar to the country in
which the scene is laid. The disgraces of Gil Blas are, for the most part, such
as rather excite mirth than compassion; he himself laughs at them; and his
transitions from distress to happiness, or at least ease, are so sudden, that
neither the reader has time to pity him, nor himself to be acquainted with
affliction. This conduct, in my opinion, not only deviates from probability,
but prevents that generous indignation, which ought to animate the reader
against the sordid and vicious disposition of the world. I have attempted to
represent modest merit struggling with every difficulty to which a friendless
orphan is exposed, from his own want of experience, as well as from the
selfishness, envy, malice, and base indifference of mankind. To secure a
favourable prepossession, I have allowed him the advantages of birth and
education, which in the series of his misfortunes will, I hope, engage the
ingenuous more warmly in his behalf; and though I foresee, that some people
will be offended at the mean scenes in which he is involved, I persuade myself
that the judicious will not only perceive the necessity of describing those
situations to which he must of course be confined, in his low estate, but also
find entertainment in viewing those parts of life, where the humours and
passions are undisguised by affectation, ceremony, or education; and the
whimsical peculiarities of disposition appear as nature has implanted them. But
I believe I need not trouble myself in vindicating a practice authorized by the
best writers in this way, some of whom I have already named.</p>
<p>Every intelligent reader will, at first sight, perceive I have not deviated
from nature in the facts, which are all true in the main, although the
circumstances are altered and disguised, to avoid personal satire.</p>
<p>It now remains to give my reasons for making the chief personage of this work a
North Briton, which are chiefly these: I could, at a small expense, bestow on
him such education as I thought the dignity of his birth and character
required, which could not possibly be obtained in England, by such slender
means as the nature of my plan would afford. In the next place, I could
represent simplicity of manners in a remote part of the kingdom, with more
propriety than in any place near the capital; and lastly, the disposition of
the Scots, addicted to travelling, justifies my conduct in deriving an
adventurer from that country. That the delicate reader may not be offended at
the unmeaning oaths which proceed from the mouths of some persons in these
memoirs, I beg leave to promise, that I imagined nothing could more effectually
expose the absurdity of such miserable expletives, than a natural and verbal
representation of the discourse in which they occur.</p>
<h2><SPAN name="pref02"></SPAN>APOLOGUE</h2>
<p>A young painter, indulging a vein of pleasantry, sketched a kind of
conversation piece, representing a bear, an owl, a monkey, and an ass; and to
render it more striking, humorous, and moral, distinguished every figure by
some emblem of human life. Bruin was exhibited in the garb and attitude of an
old, toothless, drunken soldier; the owl perched upon the handle of a
coffee-pot, with spectacle on nose, seemed to contemplate a newspaper; and the
ass, ornamented with a huge tie-wig (which, however, could not conceal his long
ears), sat for his picture to the monkey, who appeared with the implements of
painting. This whimsical group afforded some mirth, and met with general
approbation, until some mischievous wag hinted that the whole—was a
lampoon upon the friends of the performer; an insinuation which was no sooner
circulated than those very people who applauded it before began to be alarmed,
and even to fancy themselves signified by the several figures of the piece.</p>
<p>Among others, a worthy personage in years, who had served in the army with
reputation, being incensed at the supposed outrage, repaired to the lodging of
the painter, and finding him at home, “Hark ye, Mr. Monkey,” said
he, “I have a good mind to convince you, that though the bear has lost
his teeth, he retains his paws, and that he is not so drunk but he can perceive
your impertinence.” “Sblood! sir, that toothless jaw is a
d—ned scandalous libel—but don’t you imagine me so chopfallen
as not to be able to chew the cud of resentment.” Here he was interrupted
by the arrival of a learned physician, who, advancing to the culprit with fury
in his aspect, exclaimed, “Suppose the augmentation of the ass’s
ears should prove the diminution of the baboon’s—nay, seek not to
prevaricate, for, by the beard of Aesculapius! there is not one hair in this
periwig that will not stand up in judgment to convict thee of personal abuse.
Do but observe, captain, how this pitiful little fellow has copied the very
curls—the colour, indeed, is different, but then the form and foretop are
quite similar.” While he thus remonstrated in a strain of vociferation, a
venerable senator entered, and waddling up to the delinquent,
“Jackanapes!” cried he, “I will now let thee see I can read
something else than a newspaper, and that without the help of spectacles: here
is your own note of hand, sirrah, for money, which if I had not advanced, you
yourself would have resembled an owl, in not daring to show your face by day,
you ungrateful slanderous knave!”</p>
<p>In vain the astonished painter declared that he had no intention to give
offence, or to characterise particular persons: they affirmed the resemblance
was too palpable to be overlooked; they taxed him with insolence, malice, and
ingratitude; and their clamours being overheard by the public, the captain was
a bear, the doctor an ass, and the senator an owl, to his dying day.</p> <hr /> <p>
Christian reader, I beseech thee, in the bowels of the Lord, remember this
example “while thou art employed in the perusal of the following sheets;
and seek not to appropriate to thyself that which equally belongs to five
hundred different people. If thou shouldst meet with a character that reflects
thee in some ungracious particular, keep thy own counsel; consider that one
feature makes not a face, and that though thou art, perhaps, distinguished by a
bottle nose, twenty of thy neighbours may be in the same predicament.”</p>
<h2>THE ADVENTURES OF RODERICK RANDOM</h2>
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