any packets, send them with the ninth volume of Shandy, which she has failed of getting. She says she has drawn for fifty louis. When she leaves Paris, send by her my account. Have you got me any French subscriptions, or subscriptions in France? Present my kindest service to Miss P-. I know her politeness and good nature will incline her to give Mrs. J- her advice about what she may venture to bring over. I hope everything goes on well, though never half so well as I wish. God prosper you, my dear friend. Believe me, most warmly yours,

L. STERNE. The sooner you send me the gold snuff-box the better,-'tis a present from my best friend.

CIII. TO MR. AND MRS. J-.

COXWOULD, August 2, 1767. My dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. J-, are infinitely kind to me, in sending now and then a letter to inquire after me, and to acquaint me how they are. You cannot conceive, my dear lady, how truly I bear a part in your illness. I wish Mr. J- would carry you to the south of France in pursuit of health; but why need I wish it, when I know his affection will make him do that and ten times as much to prevent a return of those symptoms which alarmed him so much in the spring? Your politeness and humanity are always contriving to treat me agreeably, and what you promise next winter will be perfectly so; but you must get well, and your little dear girl must be of the party, with her parents and friends, to give it a relish. I am sure you show no partiality but what is natural and praiseworthy in behalf of your daughter; but I wonder my friends will not find her a play-fellow; and I both hope and advise them not to venture along through this warfare of life without two strings at least to their bow. I had letters from France by last night's post, by which (by some fatality) I find not one of my letters has reached Mrs. Sterne. This gives me concern, as it wears the aspect of unkindness, which she by no means merits from me. My wife and dear girl are coming to pay me a visit for a few months; I wish I may prevail with them to tarry longer. You must permit me, dear Mrs. J-, to make my Lydia known to you, if I can prevail with my wife to come and spend a little time in London, as she returns to France. I expect a small parcel: may I trouble you, before you write next, to send to my lodgings to ask if there is anything directed to me that you can inclose under cover? I have but one excuse for this freedom, which I am prompted to use, from a persuasion that it is doing you pleasure to give you an opportunity of doing an obliging thing; and as to myself, I rest satisfied, for 'tis only scoring up another debt of thanks to the millions I owe you both already. Receive

a thousand and a thousand thanks, yes, and with them ten thousand friendly wishes for all you wish in this world. May my friend Mr. Jcontinue blessed with good health, and may his good lady get perfectly well, there being no woman's health or comfort I so ardently pray for. Adieu, my dear friends. Believe me most truly and faithfully yours, L. STERNE.

P.S.-In Eliza's last letter, dated from St. Jago, she tells me, as she does you, that she is extremely ill. God protect her! By this time surely she has set foot upon dry land at Madras. I heartily wish her well, and if Yorick was with her he would tell her so; but he is cut off from this, by bodily absence. I am present with her in spirit, however; but what is that? you will say.

CIV. TO J-H-S-, Esq.

COXWOULD, Aug. 11, 1767. MY DEAR H—,—I am glad all has passed with so much amity inter te et filium Marcum tuum, and that Madame has found grace in thy sight. All is well that ends well-and so much for moralizing upon it. I wish you could, or would, take up your parable, and prophesy as much good concerning me and my affairs. Not one of my letters has got to Mrs. Sterne since the notification of her intentions, which has a pitiful air on my side, though I have wrote her six or seven. I imagine she will be here the latter end of September; though I have no date for it, but her impatience, which, having suffered by my supposed silence, I am persuaded will make her fear the worst. If that is the case, she will fly to England-a most natural conclusion. You did well to discontinue all commerce with James's Powders. As you are so well, rejoice therefore, and let your heart be merry: mine ought, upon the same score; for I never have been so well since I left college, and should be a marvellous happy man, but for some reflections which bow down my spirits; but if I live but even three or four years, I will acquit myself with honour-and-no matter! we will talk this over when we meet. If all ends as temperately as with you, and that I find grace, etc. etc., I will come and sing Te Deum, or drink poculum elevatum, or do anything in the world. I should depend upon G-'s critique upon my head, as. much as Moliere's old woman upon his comedies: when you do not want her society, let it be carried into your bed-chamber to flay her, or clap it upon her bum-to-and give her my blessing as you do it.

My postillion has set me aground for a week, by one of my pistols bursting in his hand, which he taking for granted to be quite shot off, he instantly fell upon his knees and said, Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; at which, like a good Christian, ho

stopped, not remembering any more of it. The affair was not so bad as he at first thought, for it has only bursten two of his fingers (he says). I long to return to you, but I sit here alone as solitary and sad as a tom-cat, which by the bye is all the company I keep-he follows me from the parlour to the kitchen, into the garden, and every place. I wish I had a dog: my daughter will bring me one. And so God be about you, and strengthen your faith. I am affectionately, dear cousin, yours, L. STERNE.

neither of them be the worse received for going together in company, but I fear they will get late in the year to their destined port, as they go first to Bengal.

CVI. TO MISS STERNE.

COXWOULD, Aug. 24, 1767. I AM truly surprised, my dear Lydia, that my last letter has not reached thy mother and thyself. It looks most unkind on my part, after your having wrote me word of your mother's

CV.-TO MR. AND MRS. J—.

COXWOULD, Aug. 13, 1767. MY DEAR FRIENDS,-I but copy your great civility to me in writing you word that I have this moment received another letter, wrote eighteen days after the date of the last, from St. Jago. If our poor friend could have wrote another letter to England, you would in course have had it; but I fear, from the circumstance of great hurry and bodily disorder in which she was when she despatched this, she might not have time. In case it has so fallen out, I send you the contents of what I have received; and that is a melancholy history of herself and sufferings since they left St. Jago-continual and most violent rheumatism all the time-a fever brought on with fits, and attended with delirium and every terrifying symptom. The recovery from this left her low and emaciated to a skeleton. I give you the pain of this detail with a bleeding heart, knowing how much at the same time it will affect yours. The three or four last days of our journal leave us with hopes she will do well at last, for she is more cheerful, and seems to be getting into better spirits; and health will follow in course. They have crossed the line-are much becalmed, by which, with other delays, she fears they will lose their passage to Madras, and be some months sooner for it at Bombay. Heaven protect her, for she suffers much, and with uncommon fortitude. She writes much to me about her dear friend Mrs. J in her last packet. In truth, my good lady, she loves and honours you from her heart; but, if she did not, I should not esteem her, or wish her so well as I do. Adieu, my dear friends; you have few in the world more truly and cordially yours, L. STERNE.

not received my letter to welcome you both; and though in that I said I wished you would defer your journey till March, for before that time I should have published my sentimental work, and should be in town to receive you, yet I will show you more real politesses than any you have met with in France, as mine will come warm from the heart. I am sorry you are. not here at the races, but les fêtes champêtres 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 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 you both, being English, could not be satisfied without it. I would have given, not my gown and cassock (for I have but one), but my topaz ring, to have seen the petits maîtres et mattresses go to mass, after having spent the night in dancing. As to my pleasures, they are few in compass. My poor cat sits purring beside me. Your lively French dog shall have his place on the other side of my fire; but if he is as devilish as when I last saw him, I must tutor him, for I will not have my cat abused-in short, I will have nothing devilish about me-a combustion will spoil a sentimental thought.

leave me, for comfort sure was never administered in so rough a manner. Tell your mother I hope she will purchase what either of you may

want at Paris-'tis an occasion not to be lost. So write to me from Paris, that I may come and meet you in my post-chaise with my long-tailed horses, and the moment you have both put your feet in it, call it hereafter yours. Adieu, dear Lydia; believe me what I ever shall be, your affectionate father, L. STERNE.

I think I shall not write to Avignon any more, but you will find one for you at Paris. Once more adieu.

CVII. TO SIR W—.

September 19, 1767.

Square,

MY DEAR SIR,-You are perhaps the drollest being in the universe-why do you banter me so about what I wrote to you? Tho' I told you, every morning I jump'd into Venus' lap (meaning thereby the sea), was you to infer from that, that I leaped into the ladies' beds afterwards? The body guides you the mind me. I have wrote the most whimsical letter to a lady that was ever read, and talked of body and soul too. I said she had made me vain by saying she was mine more than ever woman was ;--but she is not the lady of Bond Street, nor nor the lady who supped with me in Bond Street on scollop'd oysters, and other such things-nor did she ever go tête-à-tête with me to Salt Hill. Enough of such nonsense. The past is over-and I can justify myself unto myself-can you do as much? No, 'faith! 'You can feel!' Ay, so can my cat, when he hears a female caterwauling on the house-top-but caterwauling disgusts me. I had rather raise a gentle flame than have a different one raised in me. Now I take Heaven to witness, after all this badinage, my heart is innocent-and the sporting of my pen is equal, just equal to what I did in my 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 marle, unless you are sure of it. I was once such a puppy myself as to pare and burn, and had my labour 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 cartload of turnips was (I thought) very dear at two hundred pounds.

In all your operations may your own good sense guide you-bought experience is the devil. Adieu, adieu! Believe me yours most truly, L. STERNE.

CVIII.-TO THE SAME.

COXWOULD, Sept. 27, 1767. DEAR SIR,-You are arrived at Scarborough when all the world has left it; but you are an

unaccountable being, and so there is nothing more to be said on the matter. You wish me to come to Scarborough, and join you to read a work that is not yet finished. Besides, I have other things in my head. My wife will be here in three or four days, and I must not be found straying in the wilderness-but I have been there. As for meeting you at Bluit's, with all my heart-I will laugh, and drink my barleywater with you. As soon as I have greeted my wife and daughter, and hired them a house at York, I shall go to London, where you generally are in spring; and then my Sentimental Journey will, I dare say, convince you that my feelings are from the heart, and that that heart is not of the worst of moulds-praised be God for my sensibility! Though it has often made me wretched, yet I would not exchange it for all the pleasures the grossest sensualist ever felt. Write to me the day you will be at York; 'tis ten to one but I may introduce you to my wife and daughter. Believe me, my good sir, ever yours, L. STERNE.

CIX.-TO MR. PANCHAUD, AT PARIS.

YORK, Oct. 1, 1767.

DEAR SIR,-I have ordered my friend Becket to advance for two months your account which my wife this day deliver'd. She is in raptures with all your civilities. This is to give you notice to draw upon your correspondent, and Becket will deduct out of my publication. Tomorrow 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, but 'tis natural to speak of those we love. As to the subscriptions which your friendship has procured me, I must have them to incorporate with my lists which are to be prefixed to the first volume. My wife and daughter join in millions of thanks; they will leave me the first of December. Adieu, adieu ! Believe me yours, most truly, L. STERNE.

CX.-TO MR. AND MRS. J—.

COXWOULD, Oct. 3, 1767.

I HAVE suffered under a strong desire for above this fortnight to send a letter of inquiries after the health and well-being of my dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. J-; and I do assure you both 'twas merely owing to a little modesty in my temper not to make 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 step I made to Gerrard Street! My mind and

body must be at sad variance with each other, should it ever fall out that it is not both the first and last place also where I shall betake myself, were it only to say, 'God bless you.' May you have every blessing he can send you! 'tis a part of my litany, where you will always have a place whilst I have a tongue to repeat it. And 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, tho' you have not told me what they were; being a shrewd divine, I think I can guess. I was ten days at Scarborough in Sep., 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 gentleman and two ladies, which, with the good Bishop and myself, made so good a party that we kept much to ourselves. I made in this time a connection of great friendship with my mitred host, who would gladly have taken me with him back to Ireland. However, we all left Scarborough together, and lay fifteen miles off, where we kindly parted. Now it was supposed (and have since heard) that I e'en went on with the party to London; and this, I suppose, was the reason assign'd for my being there. I daresay charity would add a little to the account, and give out that 'twas on the score of one, and perhaps both, of the ladies; and I will excuse charity on that head, for a heart disengaged could not well have done better. I have 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 violently upon that account, and am now determined not to draw bit till I have finished this Sentimental Journey, which I hope to lay at your feet, as a small (but a very honest) testimony of the constant truth with which I am, my dear friends, your ever obliged and grateful

L. STERNE.

P.S.-My wife and daughter arrived here last night from France. My girl has returned an elegant accomplished little slut; my wife-but I hate to praise my wife -'tis as much as decency will allow to praise my daughter. I suppose they will return next summer to France. They leave me in a month to reside at York for the winter, and I stay at Coxwould till the first of January.

CXI. TO MRS. F-.

COXWOULD, Friday. DEAR MADAM,-I return you a thousand thanks for your obliging inquiry after me. I got down last summer very much worn out, and much worse at the end of my journey. I was forced to call at his Grace's house (the Archbishop of York) to refresh myself a couple of days upon

the road near Doncaster. Since I got home to quietness, and temperance, and good books, and good hours, I have mended, and am now very stout, and in a fortnight's time shall perhaps be as well as you yourself could wish me. I have the pleasure to acquaint you that my wife and daughter are arrived from France. I shall be in town to greet my friends by the first of January. Adieu, dear madam. Believe me yours sincerely, L. STERNE.

CXII. TO MRS. H-.

COXWOULD, Oct. 12, 1767. EVER since my dear H-wrote me word she was mine more than ever woman was, I have been racking my memory to inform me where it was that you and I had that affair together. People think that I have had many, some in body, some in mind; but, as I told you before, you have had me more than any woman: therefore you must have had me, H-, both in mind and in body. Now I cannot recollect where it was, nor exactly when; it could not be the lady in Bond Street, or Grosvenor Street, or —— -Square, or Pall Mall. We shall make it out, H-, when we meet-I impatiently long for it-'tis no matter-I cannot now stand writing to you today. I will make it up next post, for dinner is upon table; and if I make Lord F-stay, he will not frank this. How do you do? Which parts of Tristram do you like best? God bless you. Yours, L. STERNE.

CXIII.-TO MR. AND MRS. J—.

COXWOULD, November 12, 1767. FORGIVE me, dear Mrs. J-, if I am troublesome in writing something betwixt 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 desires 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 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 of me must be torn from my arms to follow her mother, who seems inclined to establish her in France, where she has had many advantageous offers. Do not smile at my weakness, when I say I

1 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 commendations she is proud of) to a very sincere friend.

don't wonder at it, for she is as accomplish'd a slut as France can produce. You shall excuse all this if you won't, I desire Mr. J- to be my advocate; but I know I don't want one. With what pleasure shall I embrace your dear little pledge, whom I hope to see every hour increasing in stature, and in favour both with God and man! I kiss all your hands with a most devout and friendly heart. No man can wish you more good than your meagre friend does; few so much, for I am, with infinite cordiality, gratitude, and honest affection, my dear Mrs. J-, your ever faithful L. STERNE.

P.S.-My Sentimental Journey will please Mrs. J-, 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 so much to it. Adieu, and may you and my worthy friend Mr. J- continue examples of the doctrine I teach.

CXIV. 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 business 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 a half a score mean souls. I am yours, etc. etc., L. SHANDY.

CXV.-TO A- L-E, Esq.

COXWOULD, November 19, 1767. You make yourself unhappy, dear L-e, by imaginary ills, which you might shun instead of putting yourself in the way of. Would not any man in his senses fly from the object he adores, and not waste his time and his health in increasing his misery by so vain a pursuit? The idol of your heart is one of ten thousand. The Duke of has long sighed in vain; and can you suppose a woman will listen to you that is proof against titles, stars, and red ribands? Her heart (believe me, L-e) will not be taken in by fine men, or fine speeches. If it should ever feel a preference, it will choose an object for itself, and it must be a singular character that can make an impression on such a being; she has a platonic way of thinking, and knows love only by name. The natural reserve of her character, which you complain of, proceeds not

from pride, but from a superiority of understanding, which makes her despise every man that turns himself into a fool. Take my advice, and pay your addresses to Miss. She esteems you, and time will wear off an attachment which has taken so deep a root in your heart. I pity you from my soul, but we are all born with passions which ebb and flow (else they would play the devil with us) to different objects; and the best advice I can give you, L-e, is to turn the tide of yours another way. I know not whether I shall write again while I stay at Coxwould. I am in earnest at my sentimental work, and intend being in town soon after Christmas. In the meantime, adieu. Let me hear from you; and believe me, dear L-, yours, etc.,

L. STERNE.

CXVI. TO THE EARL OF -.

COXWOULD, November 28, 1767. MY LORD,-"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 stands as much in need of recruiting as the body; therefore I shall set out for town the twentieth of next month, after having recruited myself a week at York. I might indeed solace myself with my wife (who is come from France), but in fact I have long been a sentimental being, whatever your Lordship may think to the contrary. The world has imagined, because I wrote Tristram Shandy, that I was myself more Shandean than I really ever was. "Tis a good-natured world we live in, and we are often painted in divers colours, according to the ideas each one frames in his head. A very agreeable lady arrived three years ago at York, in her road to Scarborough. I had the honour of being acquainted with her, and was her chaperon. All the females were very inquisitive to know who she was. 'Do not tell, ladies: 'tis a mistress my wife has recommended to me; nay, moreover, has sent me from France.'

I hope my book will please you, my Lord, and then my labour will not be totally in vain. If it is not thought a chaste book, mercy on them that read it, for they must have warm imaginations indeed! Can your Lordship forgive my not making this a longer epistle? In short I can but add this, which you already know, that I am, with gratitude and friendship, my Lord, your obedient faithful, L. STERNE.

If your Lordship is in town in spring, I should be happy if you became acquainted with my friends in Gerrard Street. You would esteem the husband and honour the wife: she is the reverse of most of her sex. They have various