Most affectionately yours, L. STERNE.
Remember me to Mr. G — , Cardinal S — , the Col. &c. &c. &c.
LETTER LXX. TO MR. P. AT PARIS.
York, June 28, 1766.
Dear Sir,
I Wrote last week to Mr. Becket to discharge the balance due to you — and I have receiv’d a letter from him telling me, that if you will draw upon him for one hundred and sixty pounds, he will punctually pay it to your order — so send the draughts when you please — Mrs. S. writes me word, she wants fifty pounds — which I desire you will let her have — I will take care to remit it to your correspondent — I have such an entire confidence in my wife, that she spends as little as she can, tho’ she is confined to no particular sum — her expences will not exceed three hundred pounds a year, unless by ill health, or a journey — and I am very willing she should have it — and you may rely, in case it ever happens that she should draw for fifty or a hundred pounds extraordinary, that it and every demand shall be punctually paid — and with proper thanks; and for this the whole Shandean family are ready to stand security.— ’Tis impossible to tell you how sorry I was that my affairs hurried me so quick thro’ Paris, as to deprive me of seeing my old friend Mr. F. and of the pleasure I proposed in being made known to his better half — but I have a probability of seeing him this winter. — Adieu dear Sir, and believe me
Most cordially yours, L. STERNE.
P.S. Mrs. S — is going to Chalon, but your letter will find her I believe at Avignon — she is very poorly — and my daughter writes to me with sad grief of heart that she is worse.
LETTER LXXI. TO MR. S.
Coxwould, July 23, 1766.
Dear Sir,
ONE might be led to think that there is a fatality regarding us — we make appointments to meet, and for these two years have not seen each others face but twice — we must try, and do better for the future — having sought you with more zeal, than C.... sought the Lord, in order to deliver you the books you bad me purchase for you at Paris — I was forced to pay carriage for them from London down to York — but as I shall neither charge you the books nor the carriage— ’tis not worth talking about. — Never man, my dear Sir, has had a more agreeable tour than your Yorick — and at present I am in my peaceful retreat, writing the ninth volume of Tristram — I shall publish but one this year, and the next I shall begin a new work of four volumes, which when finish’d, I shall continue Tristram with fresh spirit. — What a difference of scene here! But with a disposition to be happy, ’tis neither this place, nor t’other that renders us the reverse. — In short each man’s happiness depends upon himself — he is a fool if he does not enjoy it.
What are you about, dear S — ? Give me some account of your pleasures — you had better come to me for a fortnight, and I will shew, or give you (if needful) a practical dose of my philosophy; but I hope you do not want it — if you did— ‘twould be the office of a friend to give it — Will not even our races tempt you? You see I use all arguments — Believe me yours most truly,
LAURENCE STERNE.
LETTER LXXII. TO MR. P. AT PARIS.
Coxwould, September 21, 1766.
My dear Friend,
IF Mrs. S — should draw upon you for fifty louis d’ors, be so kind as to remit her the money — and pray be so good as not to draw upon Mr. Becket for it (as he owes me nothing) but favour me with the draught, which I will pay to Mr. Selwin. — A young nobleman is now negociating a jaunt with me for six weeks, about Christmas, to the Fauxbourg de St. Germain — I should like much to be with you for so long — and if my wife should grow worse (having had a very poor account of her in my daughter’s last) I cannot think of her being without me — and however expensive the journey would be, I would fly to Avignon to administer consolation to both her and my poor girl — Wherever I am, believe me
Dear Sir,
yours, L. STERNE.
My kind compliments to Mr. F — : though I have not the honour of knowing his rib, I see no reason why I may not present all due respects to the better half of so old a friend, which I do by these presents — with my friendliest wishes to Miss P — .
LETTER LXXIII. TO MR. F. AT PARIS.
Coxwould, October 25, 1766.
My dear F.
I Desired you would be so good as to remit to Mrs. S — fifty louis, a month ago — I dare say you have done it — but her illness must have cost her a good deal — therefore having paid the last fifty pounds into Mr. Selwin’s hands, I beg you to send her thirty guineas more — for which I send a bank bill to Mr. Becket by this post — but surely had I not done so, you would not stick at it — for be assured, my dear F. that the first Lord of the Treasury is neither more able or more willing (nor perhaps half so punctual) in repaying with honour all I ever can be in your books. — My daughter says her mother is very ill — and I fear going fast down by all accounts— ’tis melancholy in her situation to want any aid that is in my power to give — do write to her — and believe me, with all compliments to your Hotel,
Yours very truly, L. STERNE.
LETTER LXXIV. TO THE SAME.
York, November 25, 1766.
Dear Sir,
I Just received yours — and am glad that the balance of accounts is now paid to you — Thus far all goes well — I have received a letter from my daughter with the pleasing tidings that she thinks her mother out of danger — and that the air of the country is delightful (excepting the winds) but the description of the Chateau my wife has hired is really pretty — on the side of the Fountain of Vaucluse — with seven rooms of a floor, half furnished with tapestry, half with blue taffety, the permission to fish, and to have game; so many partridges a week, &c. and the price — guess! sixteen guineas a year — there’s for you P. — about the latter end of next month my wife will have occasion for a hundred guineas — and pray be so good, my dear sir, as to give orders that she may not be disappointed — she is going to spend the Carnival at Marseilles at Christmas — I shall be in London by Christmas week, and then shall balance this remittance to Mrs. S. with Mr. S — I am going to ly in of another child of the Shandaick procreation, in town — I hope you wish me a safe delivery — I fear my friend Mr. F. will have left town before I get there — Adieu dear Sir — I wish you every thing in this world which will do you good, for I am with unfeigned truth,
Yours, L. STERNE.
Make my compliments acceptable to the good and worthy Baron D’Holbach — Miss P. &c. &c.
LETTER LXXV. TO MR. P. AT PARIS.
London, February 13, 1767.
Dear P.
I Paid yesterday (by Mr. Becket) a hundred guineas, or pounds I forget which, to Mr. Selwin — But you must remit to Mrs. S. at Marseilles a hundred louis before she leaves that place, which will be in less than three weeks. Have you got the ninth volume of Shandy?— ’tis liked the best of all here. — I am going to publish a Sentimental Journey through France and Italy — the undertaking is protected and highly encouraged by all our noblesse— ’tis subscribed for, at a great rate— ‘twill be an original — in large quarto — the subscription half a guinea — If you can procure me the honour of a few names of men of science, or fashion, I shall thank you — they will appear in good company, as all the nobility here almost have honoured me with their names. — My kindest remembrance to Mr. F. — respects to Baron D’Holbach, and believe me ever ever yours,
L. STERNE.
LETTER LXXVI. TO MISS S.
Old Bond-street, February 23, 1767.
AND so, my Lydia! thy mother and thyself are returning back again from Marseilles to the banks of the Sorgue — and there thou wilt sit and fish for trouts — I envy you the sweet situation. — Petrarch’s tomb I should like to pay a sentimental visit to — the Fountain of Vaucluse, by thy description, must be delightful — I am also much pleased with the account you give me of the Abbé de Sade — you find great comfort in such a neighbour — I am glad he is so good as to correct thy translation of my Sermons — dear girl go
on, and make me a present of thy work — but why not the House of Mourning? ’tis one of the best. I long to receive the life of Petrarch, and his Laura, by your Abbé, but I am out of all patience with the answer the Marquis made the Abbé— ’twas truly coarse, and I wonder he bore it with any christian patience — But to the subject of your letter — I do not wish to know who was the busy fool, who made your mother uneasy about Mrs.— ’tis true I have a friendship for her, but not to infatuation — I believe I have judgment enough to discern hers, and every woman’s faults. I honour thy mother for her answer —
“that she wished not to be informed, and begged him to drop the subject.”
— Why do you say that your mother wants money? — whilst I have a shilling, shall you not both have ninepence out of it? — I think, if I have my enjoyments, I ought not to grudge you yours. — I shall not begin my Sentimental Journey till I get to Coxwould — I have laid a plan for something new, quite out of the beaten track. — I wish I had you with me — and I would introduce you to one of the most amiable and gentlest of beings, whom I have just been with — not Mrs. — , but a Mrs. J. the wife of as worthy a man as I ever met with — I esteem them both. He possesses every manly virtue — honour and bravery are his characteristicks, which have distinguished him nobly in several instances — I shall make you better acquainted with his character, by sending Orme’s History, with the books you desired — and it is well worth your reading; for Orme is an elegant writer, and a just one; he pays no man a compliment at the expence of truth. — Mrs. J — is kind — and friendly — of a sentimental turn of mind — and so sweet a disposition, that she is too good for the world she lives in — Just God! if all were like her, what a life would this be! — Heaven, my Lydia, for some wise purpose has created different beings — I wish my dear child knew her — thou art worthy of her friendship, and she already loves thee; for I sometimes tell her what I feel for thee. — This is a long letter — write soon, and never let your letters be studied ones — write naturally, and then you will write well. — I hope your mother has got quite well of her ague — I have sent her some of Huxham’s tincture of the Bark. I will order you a guittar since the other is broke. Believe me, my Lydia, that I am yours affectionately,
L. STERNE.
LETTER LXXVII. TO MR. P. AT PARIS.
London, February 27, 1767.
Dear Sir,
MY Daughter begs a present of me, and you must know I can deny her nothing — It must be strung with cat-gut, and of five chords — si chiama in Italiano la chitera di cinque corde — she cannot get such a thing at Marseilles — at Paris one may have every thing — Will you be so good to my girl as to make her happy in this affair, by getting some musical body to buy one, and send it her to Avignon directed to Monsieur Teste? — I wrote last week to desire you would remit Mrs. S. a hundred louis— ‘twill be all, except the guittar, I shall owe you — send me your account, and I will pay Mr. Selwin — direct to me at Mr. Becket’s — all kind respects to my friend Mr. F. and your sister.
Yours cordially, L. STERNE.
LETTER *LXXVII. TO D. G. ESQ.
Thursday, Eleven o’Clock — Night.
Dear Sir,
‘TWAS for all the world like a cut across my finger with a sharp penknife. — I saw the blood — gave it a suck — wrapt it up — and thought no more about it.
But there is more goes to the healing of a wound than this comes to: — a wound (unless ’tis a wound not worth talking of, but by the bye mine is) must give you some pain after. — Nature will take her own way with it — it must ferment — it must digest.
The story you told me of Tristram’s pretended tutor, this morning — My letter by right should have set out with this sentence, and then the simile would not have kept you a moment in suspence.
This vile story, I say — tho’ I then saw both how, and where it wounded — I felt little from it at first — or, to speak more honestly (tho’ it ruins my simile) I felt a great deal of pain from it, but affected an air usual on such accidents, of less feeling than I had.
I have now got home to my lodgings since the play (you astonished me in it) and have been unwrapping this selfsame wound of mine, and shaking my head over it this half hour.
What the devil! — is there no one learned blockhead throughout the many schools of misapplied science in the Christian World, to make a tutor of for my Tristram? — Ex quovis ligno non fit. — Are we so run out of stock, that there is no one lumber-headed, muddle-headed, mortar-headed, pudding-headed chap amongst our doctors? — Is there no one single wight of much reading and no learning amongst the many children in my mother’s nursery, who bid high for this charge — but I must disable my judgment by choosing a W — n? Vengeance! have I so little concern for the honour of my hero! — Am I a wretch so void of sense, so bereft of feeling for the figure he is to make in story, that I should chuse a praeceptor to rob him of all the immortality I intended him? O! dear Mr. G.
Malice is ingenious — unless where the excess of it outwits itself — I have two comforts in this stroke of it; — the first is, that this one is partly of this kind; and secondly, that it is one of the number of those which so unfairly brought poor Yorick to his grave. — The report might draw blood of the author of Tristram Shandy — but could not harm such a man as the author of the Divine Legation — God bless him! though (by the bye, and according to the natural course of descents) the blessing should come from him to me.
Pray have you no interest, lateral or collateral, to get me introduced to his Lordship?
Why do you ask?
My dear Sir, I have no claim to such an honour, but what arises from the honour and respect which in the progress of my work will be shewn the world I owe to so great a man.
Whilst I am talking of owing — I wish, my dear Sir, that any body would tell you, how much I am indebted to you. — I am determined never to do it myself, or say more upon the subject than this, that I am yours,
L. STERNE.
LETTER LXXVIII. TO MISS S.
Bond Street, April 9, 1767.
THIS letter, my dear Lydia, will distress thy good heart, for from the beginning thou wilt perceive no entertaining strokes of humour in it — I cannot be chearful when a thousand melancholy ideas surround me — I have met with a loss of near fifty pounds, which I was taken in for in an extraordinary manner — but what is that loss in comparison of one I may experience? — Friendship is the balm and cordial of life, and without it, ’tis a heavy load not worth sustaining. — I am unhappy — thy mother and thyself at a distance from me, and what can compensate for such a destitution? — For God’s sake persuade her to come and fix in England, for life is too short to waste in separation — and whilst she lives in one country, and I in another, many people will suppose it proceeds from choice — besides I want thee near me, thou child and darling of my heart! — I am in a melancholy mood, and my Lydia’s eyes will smart with weeping when I tell her the cause that now affects me. — I am apprehensive the dear friend I mentioned in my last letter is going into a decline — I was with her two days ago, and I never beheld a being so alter’d — she has a tender frame, and looks like a drooping lily, for the roses are fled from her cheeks — I can never see or talk to this incomparable woman without bursting into tears — I have a thousand obligations to her, and I owe her more than her whole sex, if not all the world put together. — She has a delicacy in her way of thinking that few possess — our conversations are of the most interesting nature, and she talks to me of quitting this world with more composure than others think of living in it. — I have wrote an epitaph, of which I send thee a copy.— ’Tis expressive of her modest worth — but may heav’n restore her! and may she live to write mine.
Columns, and labour’d urns but vainly shew,
An idle scene of decorated woe.
The sweet companion, and the friend sincere,
Complete Works of Laurence Sterne Page 109
