The Expedition of Humphry ClinkerSmollett, T. (Tobias)
General
The Expedition of Humphry Clinker
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Epistolary fiction; Great Britain -- Fiction; Travelers -- Fiction
About a dozen years ago, many decent families, restricted to small
fortunes, besides those that came hither on the score of health, were
tempted to settle at Bath, where they could then live comfortably, and
even make a genteel appearance, at a small expence: but the madness of
the times has made the place too hot for them, and they are now obliged
to think of other migrations--Some have already fled to the mountains
of Wales, and others have retired to Exeter. Thither, no doubt, they
will be followed by the flood of luxury and extravagance, which will
drive them from place to place to the very Land’s End; and there, I
suppose, they will be obliged to ship themselves to some other country.
Bath is become a mere sink of profligacy and extortion. Every article of
house-keeping is raised to an enormous price; a circumstance no longer
to be wondered at, when we know that every petty retainer of fortune
piques himself upon keeping a table, and thinks it is for the honour
of his character to wink at the knavery of his servants, who are in a
confederacy with the market-people; and, of consequence, pay whatever
they demand. Here is now a mushroom of opulence, who pays a cook seventy
guineas a week for furnishing him with one meal a day. This portentous
frenzy is become so contagious, that the very rabble and refuse of
mankind are infected. I have known a negro-driver, from Jamaica, pay
over-night, to the master of one of the rooms, sixty-five guineas for
tea and coffee to the company, and leave Bath next morning, in such
obscurity, that not one of his guests had the slightest idea of his
person, or even made the least inquiry about his name. Incidents of this
kind are frequent; and every day teems with fresh absurdities, which are
too gross to make a thinking man merry.
--But I feel the spleen creeping on me apace; and therefore will indulge
you with a cessation, that you may have no unnecessary cause to curse
your correspondence with,
Dear Dick, Yours ever, MAT. BRAMBLE BATH, May 5.
To Miss LAETITIA WILLIS, at Gloucester.
MY DEAR LETTY,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account