Complete Works of Laurence Sterne

by Laurence 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 glyster 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 spitting of blood — and that unfeeling brute ******* came and drew my curtains, and with a voice like a trumpet, halloo’d in my ear — z — ds, what a fine kettle of fish have you brought yourself to, Mr. S — ! In a faint voice, I bad him 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.

  LETTER C. TO SIR W.

  September 19, 1767.

  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’s lap (meaning thereby the sea) was you to infer from that, that I leap’d 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 talk’d 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 Bondstreet nor — square, nor the lady who supp’d with me in Bondstreet on scollop’d oysters, and other such things — nor did she ever go tete-a-tete 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!”

  Aye 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 heav’n 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 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 turneps 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.

  LETTER CI. 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 finish’d — 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 barley water 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 molds — 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.

  LETTER CII. TO MR. P. AT PARIS.

  York, October 1, 1767.

  Dear Sir,

  I Have order’d 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 prefix’d to the first volume. — My wife and daughter join in millions of thanks — they will leave me the 1st of December. — Adieu, adieu — believe me,

  Your’s most truly, L. STERNE.

  LETTER CIII. TO MR. AND MRS. J —

  Coxwould, October 3, 1767.

  I Have suffered under a strong desire for above this fortnight, to send a letter of enquiries after the health and the 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 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 houshold 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 dare say 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 finish’d 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 return’d an elegant accomplish’d 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.

  LETTER CIV. TO MRS. F — .

  Coxwould, Friday.

  Dear Madam,

  I Return you a thousand thanks for your obliging enquiry 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.

  LETTER CV. TO MR. AND MRS. J — .

  Coxwould, November 12, 1767.

  FORGIVE me, dear Mrs. J — , if I am troublesome in writing something bewixt a letter and a card, to enquire 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 recompence 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 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 — who I hope to see every hour encreasing 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 meager 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.

  LETTER CVI. 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 ribbands? — 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 chuse 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 mean time adieu. — Let me hear from you, and believe me, dear L.

  Yours, &c. L. STERNE.

  LETTER CVII. 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 enquiry 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 her 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 her sex — they have various pursuits — she but one — that of pleasing her husband. —

  LETTER CVIII. TO A. L — E, ESQ.

  Coxwould, December 7, 1767.

  Dear L.

  I Said I would not perhaps write any more, but it would be unkind not to reply to so interesting a letter as yours — I am certain you may depend upon Lord— ‘s promises — he will take care of you in the best manner he can, and your knowledge of the world, and of languages in particular, will make you useful in any department — If his Lordship’s scheme does not succeed, leave the kingdom — go to the east, or the west, for travelling would be of infinite service to both your body and mind — But more of this when we meet — now to my own affairs. — I have had an offer of exchanging two pieces of preferment I hold here, for a living of three hundred and fifty pounds a year, in Surry, about thirty miles from London, and retaining Coxwould, and my prebendaryship — the country also is sweet — but I will not, cannot come to any determination, till I have consulted with you, and my other friends. — I have great offers too in Ireland — the bishops of C — , and R — , are both my friends — but I have rejected every proposal, unless Mrs. S — , and my Lydia could accompany me thither — I live for the sake of my girl, and with her sweet light burthen in my arms, I could get up fast the hill of preferment, if I chose it — but without my Lydia, if a mitre was offered me, it would sit uneasy upon my brow. — Mrs. S— ‘s health is insupportable in England. — She must return to France, and justice and humanity forbid me to oppose it. — I will allow her enough to live comfortably, until she can rejoin me. — My heart bleeds, L — e, when I think of parting with my child— ‘twill be like th
e separation of soul and body — and equal to nothing but what passes at that tremendous moment; and like it in one respect, for she will be in one kingdom, whilst I am in another. — You will laugh at my weakness — but I cannot help it — for she is a dear, disinterested girl — As a proof of it — when she left Coxwould, and I bad her adieu, I pulled out my purse and offered her ten guineas for her private pleasures — her answer was pretty, and affected me too much.

  “No, my dear papa, our expences of coming from France may have straiten’d you — I would rather put an hundred guineas in your pocket than take ten out of it”

  — I burst into tears — but why do I practice on your feelings — by dwelling on a subject that will touch your heart? — It is too much melted already by its own sufferings, L — e, for me to add a pang, or cause a single sigh. — God bless you — I shall hope to greet you by New-years-day in perfect health — Adieu my dear friend — I am most truly and cordially yours,

  L. STERNE.

  LETTER CIX. TO MR. AND MRS. J.

  York, December 23, 1767.

  I Was afraid that either Mr. or Mrs. J — , or their little blossom, was drooping — or that some of you were ill, by not having the pleasure of a line from you, and was thinking of writing again to enquire after you all — when I was cast down myself with a fever, and bleeding at my lungs, which had confined me to my room near three weeks — when I had the favour of yours, which till today I have not been able to thank you both kindly for, as I most cordially now do — as well as for all your professions and proofs of good will to me. — I will not say I have not balanced accounts with you in this — All I know is, that I honour and value you more than I do any good creatures upon earth — and that I could not wish your happiness, and the success of whatever conduces to it, more than I do, was I your brother — but, good God! are we not all brothers and sisters who are friendly, virtuous, and good? Surely, my dear friends, my illness has been a sort of sympathy for your afflictions upon the score of your dear little one. — I am worn down to a shadow — but as my fever has left me, I set off the latter end of next week with my friend Mr. Hall for town — I need not tell my friends in Gerrard-street, I shall do myself the honour to visit them, before either Lord — or Lord — , &c. &c. — I thank you, my dear friend, for what you say so kindly about my daughter — it shews your good heart, for as she is a stranger, ’tis a free gift in you — but when she is known to you, she shall win it fairly — but, alas! when this event is to happen, is in the clouds. — Mrs. S — has hired a house ready furnish’d at York, till she returns to France, and my Lydia must not leave her. —