fervile dependency on the follies and vices of the great.

In a word, be affured, there is no one more fincerely wishes your welfare and happiness, than,

Reverend Sir,

W. G.

LETTER XII.

TO MY WITTY WIDOW, MRS. F

MADAM,

WHEN

Coxwould, Aug. 3. 1760. HEN a man's brains are as dry as a fqueez'd Orange-and he feels ho has no more conceit in him than a Mallet, 'tis in vain to think of fitting down, and writing a letter to a lady of your wit, unless in the honeft John-TrotStile of, yours of the 15th inftant came Safe to hand, &c. which, by the bye, looks like a letter of business; and you know very well, from the first letter I

had the honour to write to you, I am a man of no bufinefs at all. This vile plight I found my genius in was the reafon I have told Mr. —, I would not write to you till the next posthoping by that time to get fome finall recruit, at least of vivacity, if not wit, to fet out with ;-but upon fecond thoughts, thinking a bad letter in feafon-to be better than a good one out of it-this fcrawl is the confequence, which, if you will burn the moment you get it-I promise to fend you a fine fet effay in the style of your female epiftolizers, cut and trim'd at all points.GOD defend me from fuch, who never yet knew what it was to fay or write one premeditated word in my whole life— for this reafon I fend you with pleasure, because wrote with the careless irregularity of an cafy heart. Who told you, Garrick wrote the medley for Beard? -'Twas wrote in his houfe, however, and before I left town. I deny itI was not loft two days before I left

town.-I was loft all the time I was there, and never found 'till I got to this Shandy-caftle of mine.-Next winter I intend to fojourn amongst you with more decorum, and will neither be loft or found any where.

Now I wish to GOD, I was at your elbow-I have just finished one volume of Shandy, and I want to read it to fome one who I know can tafte and relifh humour-this by the way, is a little impudent in me-for I take the thing for granted, which their high mightinesses the world have yet to determine—but I mean no fuch thing-I could wish only to have your opinion-fhall I, in truth, give you mine?-I dare not-but I will; provided you keep it to yourself -know then, that I think there is more laughable humour, with equal degree of Cervantic fatire-if not more than in the laft-but we are bad Judges of the merit of our children.

I return you a thoufand thanks for your friendly congratulations upon my

habitation-and I will take care, you shall never wish me but well, for I am, Madam,

With great efteem and truth,

Your most obliged,

L. STERNE.

P. S. I have wrote this fo vilely and fo precipitately, I fear muft you carry it to a decypherer-I beg you'll do me the honour to write-otherwise you draw me in, instead of Mr. drawing you into a scrape-for I fhould forrow to have a taste of fo agreeable a correfpond ent-and no more.

Adieu.

I

LETTER XIII.

TO S

ESQ.

London, Christmas Day, 1760.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

HAVE been in fuch a continual hurry fince the moment I arrived herewhat with my books, and what with vifitors and vifitings, that it was not in my power fooner to fit down and acknowledge the favour of your obliging letter; and to thank you for the most friendly motives which led you to write it: I am not much in pain upon what gives my kind friends at Stillington so much on the chapter of Nofes-because, as the principal fatire throughout that part is levelled at thofe learned blockheads who, in all ages, have wasted their time and much learning upon points as foolish-it fhifts off the idea of what you fear, to another pointand 'tis thought here very good-'twill pafs mufter-I mean not with all-no