realised; and his generous housekeeping, and the expenses of a
litigation to which he was compelled, in connection with Miss
Lascelles' money, embarrassed his circumstances, and, much to the
advantage of the world, drove him to literature. In 1748, he gave to
the world his novel of "Roderick Random,"--counted by many the
masterpiece of his genius. It brought him in both fame and emolument.
In 1749 he published, by subscription, his unfortunate tragedy, "The
Regicide." In 1750 he went to Paris, and shortly after wrote his
"Adventures of Peregrine Pickle," including the memoirs of the
notorious Lady Vane--the substance of which he got from herself, and
which added greatly to the popularity of the work. Notwithstanding the
success he met with as a novelist, he was anxious to prosecute his
original profession of medicine; and having procured from a foreign
university the degree of M.D., he commenced to practise physic in
Chelsea, but without success. He wrote, however, an essay "On the
External Use of Water," in which he seems to have partly anticipated
the method of the cold-water cure. In 1753 he published his
"Adventures of Count Fathom;" and, two years later, encouraged by a
liberal subscription, he issued a translation of "Don Quixote," in two
quarto volumes. While this work was printing, he went down to
Scotland, visited his old scenes and old companions, and was received
everywhere with enthusiasm. The most striking incident, however, in
this journey was his interview with his mother, then residing in
Scotston, near Peebles. He was introduced to her as a stranger
gentleman from the West Indies; and, in order to retain his incognita,
he endeavoured to maintain a serious and frowning countenance. While
his mother, however, continued to regard him steadfastly, he could not
forbear smiling; and she instantly sprang from her seat, threw her
arms round his neck, and cried out, "Ah, my son, I have found you at
last! Your old roguish smile has betrayed you."