of his friendship.-May I presume to in- [lively French dog shall have his place on close you a letter of chit-chat which I shall the other side of my fire;-but if he is as write to Eliza. I know you will write devilish as when I last saw him, I must tuyourself; and my letter may have the honor tor him; for I will not have my cat abused. to chaperon yours to India: - they will-In short, I will have nothing devilish neither of them be the worse received for about me:-a combustion will spoil a sentigoing together in company; but I fear they mental thought. will get late in the year to their destined port, as they go first to Bengal.

LETTER CV.

TO MISS STERNE.

Another thing I must desire:-do not be alarmed;-'tis to throw all your rouge-pots into the Sorgue before you set out.-I will have no rouge put on in England ;—and do not bewail them as did her silver seringue, or glister-equipage, which she lost in a certain river; but take a wise resolution of doing without rouge. -I have been three days ago bad again, with a spitCoxwould, Aug. 24, 1767. ting of blood:-and that unfeeling brute I AM truly surprised, my dear Lydia, ******* came and drew my curtains, and that my last letter has not reached thy mo- with a voice like a trumpet, halloo'd in my ther, and thyself;-it looks most unkind on ear," Z-ds, what a fine kettle of fish my part, after your having wrote me word "have you brought yourself to, Mr. S―!” of your mother's intention of coming to In a faint voice, I bade him leave me; for England, that she has not received my let- comfort sure was never administered in so ter to welcome you both;-and though in rough a manner.-Tell your mother, I hope that I said I wished you would defer your she will purchase what either of you may journey till March (for before that time I want at Paris,-'tis an occasion not to be should have published my sentimental work, lost,-so write to me from Paris, that I and should be in town to receive you)- may come and meet you in my post-chaise, yet I will show you more real politesses with my long-tailed horses;-and the mothan any you have met with in France, as ment you have both put your feet in it, call mine will come warm from the heart.-I it hereafter yours. Adieu, dear Lydia. am sorry you are not here at the races; Believe me, what I ever shall be, but les fêtes champètres of the Marquis de Sade have made you amends. I know B very well; and he is what in France would be called Admirable,—that would be but so so here. You are right;-he studies Paris.-Once more, adieu. Nature more than any, or rather most of the French comedians.-If the Empress of Russia pays him and his wife a pension of twenty thousand livres a year, I think he is very well off.-The folly of staying till after twelve for supper,-that you two excommunicated beings might have meat!— "his conscience would not let it be served before."Surely the Marquis thought

Your affectionate father,

L. STERNE.

I think I shall not write to Avignon any more; but you will find one for you at

LETTER CVI.

TO SIR W.

Sept. 19, 1767

MY DEAR SIR,

You are perhaps the drollest being in you both, being English, could not be satis- the universe.-Why do you banter me so fied without it.—I would have given, not about what I wrote to you?—Though I my gown and cassock (for I have but one) told you, every morning I jump'd into Vebut my topaz ring, to have seen the petits nus's lap (meaning thereby the sea) was maîtres et maîtresses go to mass, after you to infer from that, that I leaped into having spent the night in dancing.-As to the ladies' beds afterwards? - The body my pleasures, they are few in compass.-guides you,-the mind me.-I have wrote My poor cat sits purring beside me. Your the most whimsical letter to a Lady that

nor

was ever read, and talked of body and soul | I must not be found straying in the wilder
too. I said she had made me vain, by say-ness; but I have been there. As for meet-
ing she was mine more than ever woman ing you at Bluit's, with all my heart.—I
was; but she is not the Lady of Bond-street; will laugh and drink my barley-water with
square: nor the Lady who supp'd you. As soon as I have greeted my wife
with me, in Bond-street, on scollop'd oys- and daughter, and hired them a house at
ters, and other such things;-nor did she York, I shall go to London; where you
ever go tête-à-tête with me to Salt Hill.- generally are in spring:-and then my
Enough of such nonsense; the past is over, Sentimental Journey will, I dare say, con-
and I can justify myself unto myself.-Can vince you that my feelings are from the
you do as much?—No, faith!—“You can heart; and that that heart is not of the
"feel" Ay, so can my cat, when he hears worst of moulds.-Praised be God for my
a female caterwauling on the house-top;- sensibility! Though it has often made me
but caterwauling disgusts me. I had ra- wretched, yet I would not exchange it for
ther raise a gentle flame, than have a dif- all the pleasures the grossest sensualist
ferent one raised in me. Now, I take Hea- ever felt. Write to me the day you will
ven to witness, after all this badinage, my be at York;-'tis ten to one but I may in-
heart is innocent;—-and the sporting of my troduce you to my wife and daughter. Be-
pen is equal, just equal, to what I did in lieve me, my good Sir,
boyish days, when I got astride of a stick,
and gallop'd away.-The truth is this,-
That my pen governs me;-not me my
pen. You are much to blame if you dig
for marl, unless you are sure of it. I was
once such a puppy myself, as to pare, and
burn, and had my labor for my pains, and
two hundred pounds out of my pocket.
Curse on farming (said I) I will try if the
pen will not succeed better than the spade.
The following up of that affair (I mean
farming) made me lose my temper: and a
cart-load of turnips was (I thought) very
dear at two hundred pounds.

Ever yours,

L. STERNE

LETTER CVIII.

TO MR. PANCHAUD, AT PARIS.

DEAR SIR,

York, Oct. 1, 1767

I HAVE ordered my friend Becket to advance, for two months, your account, which my wife this day delivered: she is in raptures with all your civilities.-This is to give you notice to draw upon your corre

In all your operations, may your own good sense guide you! Bought experience is the Devil.-Adieu, adieu.-Believe me spondent;-and Becket will deduct out of

Yours, most truly,

LETTER CVII.

TO THE SAME.

L. STERNE.

my publication. To morrow morning I repair with her to Coxwould; and my Lydia seems transported with the sight of me.— Nature, dear P, breathes in all her composition; and, except a little vivacity, which is a fault in the world we live in, I am fully content with her mother's care of her.-Pardon this digression from business; Coxwould, Sept. 27, 1767. —but 'tis natural to speak of those we love. As to the subscriptions which your friendYou are arrived at Scarborough when all ship has procured me, I must have them to the world has left it; but you are an unac- incorporate with my lists, which are to be countable being; and so there is nothing prefix'd to the first volume.-My wife and more to be said on the matter.-You wish daughter join in millions of thanks:-they me to come to Scarborough, and join you will leave me the first of December.to read a work that is not yet finished; be- Adieu, adieu.-Believe me

DEAR SIR,

sides, I have other things in my head.-My wife will be here in three or four days, and

Yours, most truly,

L. STERNE

2

H

LETTER CIX.

TO MR. AND MRS. J.

Coxwould, Oct. 3, 1767.

been hard writing ever since;-and hope, by Christmas, I shall be able to give a gentle rap at your door,-and tell you how happy I am to see my two good friends.-I assure you I spur on my Pegasus more vioI HAVE suffered under a strong desire, for lently upon that account, and am now deabove this fortnight, to send a letter of in-termined not to draw bit till I have finished quiries after the health and the well-being of this Sentimental Journey ;—which I hope my dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. J; and to lay at your feet, as a small (but very I do assure you both, 'twas merely owing to honest) testimony of the constant truth with a little modesty in my temper, not to make which I am, my good-will troublesome, where I have so much, and to those I never think of but with ideas of sensibility and obligation, that I have refrain'd.-Good God! to think I could be in town, and not go, the first P. S. My wife and daughter arrived here step I made, to Gerrard-street!-My mind last night from France. My girl has reand body must be at sad variance with each turn'd an elegant, accomplished little slut. other, should it ever fall out that it is not-My wife,-but I hate to praise my wife; both the first and last place also where I shall 'tis as much as decency will allow, to betake myself, were it only to say, "God praise my daughter. I suppose they will "bless you!"-May you have every bless-return next summer to France. They ing he can send you! 'tis a part of my leave me in a month, to reside at York for litany; where you will always have a place the winter;-and I stay at Coxwould till whilst I have a tongue to repeat it. And the first of January.

My dear friends,
Your ever obliged
And grateful

LETTER CX.

TO MRS. F

DEAR MADAM,

L. STERNE.

Coxwould, Friday

so you heard I had left Scarborough; which you would no more credit, than the reasons assign'd for it:-I thank you for it kindly: though you have not told me what they were; being a shrewd divine, I think I can guess. I was ten days at Scarborough, in September; and was hospitably entertained by one of the best of our bishops; who, as he kept house there, press'd me to be with him; and his household consisted of a gen- I RETURN you a thousand thanks for your tleman and two ladies;-which, with the obliging inquiry after me.-I got down last good bishop and myself, made so good a summer, very much worn out,-and much party, that we kept much to ourselves.- worse at the end of my journey.-I was made in this time a connexion of great forced to call at his Grace's house (the friendship with my mitred host; who would | Archbishop of York) to refresh myself a gladly have taken me with him back to couple of days upon the road near DoncasIreland. However, we all left Scarborough ter.-Since I got home to quietness, and together, and lay fifteen miles off, where temperance, and good books, and good hours, we kindly parted.-Now it was supposed I have mended; and am now very stout;— (and I have since heard) that I e'en went and, in a fortnight's time, shall perhaps be on with the party to London; and this, I as well as you yourself could wish me.-I suppose, was the reason assign'd for my have the pleasure to acquaint you that my being there. I dare say, Charity would wife and daughter are arrived from France. add a little to the account, and give out I shall be in town to greet my friends by that 'twas on the score of one, and perhaps the first of January.-Adieu, dear Madam. both of the ladies, and I will excuse-Believe me Charity on that head, for a heart disengaged could not well have done better.-I have

Yours, sincerely,

L. STERNE

LETTER CXI.

TO MRS. H.

Coxwould, October 12, 1767.

creature,-affectionate, and most elegant in body and mind;-she is all Heaven could give me in a daughter;-but, like other blessings, not given, but lent; for her mother loves France;-and this dear part EVER since my dear H. wrote me word of me must be torn from my arms to follow she was mine more than ever woman was, her mother, who seems inclined to establish I have been racking my memory to inform her in France, where she has had many me where it was that you and I had that af- advantageous offers.-Do not smile at my fair together. People think that I have had weakness, when I say I don't wonder at it, many (some in body, some in mind); but as for she is as accomplished a slut as France I told you before, you have had me more can produce.—You shall excuse all this;— than any woman; therefore, you must have if you won't, I desire Mr. J— to be my had me, H—, both in mind and in body.— advocatę;—but I know I don't want one.— Now I cannot recollect where it was, nor With what pleasure shall I embrace your exactly when:-it could not be the Lady in dear little pledge,—whom I hope to see Bond-street, or Grosvenor-street, or every hour increasing in stature, and in Square, or Pall-mall.—We shall make it favor, both with God and man!—I kiss all out, Hwhen we meet; I emphatically your hands with a most devout and friendly long for it; 'tis no matter; I cannot now heart.-No man can wish you more good stand writing to you to-day :-I will make than your meagre friend does; few so it up next post,-for dinner is upon table; much;-for I am, with infinite cordiality, and if I make Lord F stay, he will not gratitude, and honest affection, frank this.-How do you do? Which parts

My dear Mrs. J—————,
Your ever faithful

L. STERNE

P. S. My Sentimental Journey will please Mrs. S and my Lydia.—I can answer for those two. It is a subject which works well, and suits the frame of mind I have been in for some time past. — I told you my design in it was to teach us to love the world and our fellow-creatures better than we do:- so it runs most upon those gentler passions and affections, which aid

continue ex

FORGIVE me, dear Mrs. J-, if I am so much to it. Adieu; and may you and troublesome in writing something betwixt my worthy friend Mr. J amples of the doctrine I teach!

a letter and a card, to inquire after you and my good friend Mr. J, whom 'tis an age since I have heard a syllable of.—I think so, however; and never more felt the want of a house I esteem so much, as I do now, when I can hear tidings of it so seldom;-and have nothing to recompense my desire of seeing its kind possessors, but the hopes before me of doing it by Christmas. -I long sadly to see you,-and my friend Mr. J. I am still at Coxwould;-my wife and girl here. She is a dear good

*

* Mrs. Medalle thinks an apology may be necessary for publishing this letter;-the best she can offer is, That it was written by a fond parent (whose commendation she is proud of) to a very sincere friend.

LETTER CXIII.

TO MRS. H.

Coxwould, Nov. 15, 1767.

Now be a good dear woman, my H-
and execute these commissions well;-and
when I see you, I will give you a kiss:-—
there's for you!-But I have something else
for you, which I am fabricating at a great
rate, and that is my Sentimental Journey.
which shall make you cry as much as it has
|affected me,—or I will give up the busines

bo

of sentimental writing,-and write to the
body; that is, H, what I am doing in
writing to you :—but you are a good body,
which is worth half a score mean souls.
I am yours, &c.

LETTER CXIV.

TO A. L-E, ESQ.

D. SHANDY.

Coxwould, Nov. 19, 1767.

"TIs with the greatest pleasure I take my pen to thank your Lordship for your letter of inquiry about Yorick; — he has worn out both his spirits and body with the Sentimental Journey:-'tis true that an author must feel himself, or his reader will not;-but I have torn my whole frame into pieces by my feelings.-I believe the brain You make yourself unhappy, dear L stands as much in need of recruiting as the by imaginary ills,-which you might shun, body,-therefore I shall set out for town the instead of putting yourself in the way of 20th of next month, after having recruited -Would not any man in his senses fly from myself a week at York. I might indeed the object he adores, and not waste his solace myself with my wife (who is come time and his health in increasing his misery from France) but in fact I have long been by so vain a pursuit?—The idol of your a sentimental being,-whatever your Lordheart is one of ten thousand. The Duke ship may think to the contrary. The world of- has long sighed in vain :—and can has imagined, because I wrote Tristram you suppose a woman will listen to you, Shandy, that I was myself more Shandean that is proof against titles, stars, and red than I really ever was.-"Tis a good-naribands? Her heart (believe me, L- -e) tured world we live in; and we are often will not be taken by fine men, or fine painted in divers colors, according to the speeches;-if it should ever feel a prefer- ideas each one frames in his head.-A very ence, it will choose an object for itself; and agreeable lady arrived three years ago at it must be a singular character that can York, in her road to Scarborough.—I had make an impression on such a being:-she the honor of being acquainted with her, and has a Platonic way of thinking, and knows was her chaperon.-All the females were love only by name.-The natural reserve very inquisitive to know who she was.— of her character, which you complain of, "Do not tell, ladies; 'tis a mistress my proceeds not from pride, but from a superi-"wife has recommended to me! - nay, ority of understanding which makes her de-"moreover, has sent her from France!" spise every man that turns himself into a fool. I hope my book will please you, my Lord, --Take my advice, and pay your addresses and then my labor will not be totally in to Miss - she esteems you; and time vain. If it is not thought a chaste book, will wear off an attachment which has mercy on them that read it, for they must taken so deep a root in your heart.-I pity have warm imaginations indeed!-Can your you from my soul;- but we are all born Lordship forgive my not making this a with passions which ebb and flow (else they longer epistle?—In short, I can but add this, would play the Devil with us) to different which you already know, that I am, with objects; and the best advice I can give gratitude and friendship,