The Expedition of Humphry Clinker by Tobias Smollett (1771)

The author's last novel is as much of a joy as his others. I suppose it updates his previous style in one way, which is nowhere near as important or revolutionary as some have claimed. The 'picaresque' style is retained, but is now epistolary. Where the other four are in some places seriously rumbustious, this one is a little more mildly so. This one covers a peregrination around many parts of Britain by a ageing man of means, Mat Bramble, who is Robert Hardyesque in terms of phlegm and good sense. Accompanying him is his waspish sister Tabitha, who is savage head of his household back home, and desperate for 'matrimony'; she throws herself at many an oncomer here! With them are their niece and nephew, tender young Liddy and splendid young Jerry; Liddy is struggling with an amour which has collapsed, while Jerry is our neutral ground with no great dramas attached. Along for the ride are various servants, retainers and such who provide glorious comic asides. One of them only is a correspondent - Tabitha's maid Win Jenkins, whose malapropisms, misapprehensions and misspellings are magnificent to behold. This motley journeys from their estate in Wales to Bath, to London, to the north, to Scotland, to the west country, collecting misadventures and excoriating society in their own selves or in those they meet, some of which are collected into their retinue. The drama which skeins through these carryings-on is the irruption into their journey of one Humphry Clinker, a poor man whom they save from a life of indigence to become Mat's servant. Vastly grateful and very endearing, he gets into all sorts of scrapes which require a rescue. He is also an inspiring preacher and his newfound Methodism pulls Tabitha and Win further into his remit. The story wavers between travelogue and comedy for a while up in Scotland, which is a place obviously dear to the author's heart. The climax comes with the overthrow of a coach in a swollen river in the west country, the taking up of the family by a local gentleman, and revelations of chequered past history and by-blow paternity which connect Humphry Clinker to the family much more completely. In a combination of happy circumstances, many misunderstandings are cleared up, leaving the path clear for no less than three weddings and much promise of living happily after. Smollett was only 50 when he died. On the basis of this, I would have wished him many more years, and us many more novels.