XCVI.

TO J. D-N, ESQ.

Old Bond-street, Friday Morning.

I was going, my dear D-n, to bed before I re ceived your kind enquiry, and now my chaise stands at my door to take and convey this poor body to its legal settlement. I am ill, very ill, - I languish most affectingly - I am sick both soul and body - it is a cordial to me to hear it is different with you - no man interests himself more in your happiness, and I am glad you are in so fair a road to it - enjoy it long, my D., whilst I no matter what but my feelings are too nice for the world I live in things will mend. I dined yesterday with Lord and Lady S-; we talked much of you, and your goings on, for every one knows why Sunbury Hill is so pleasant a situation!

You

and I go

you have locked up my boots rogue bootless home and I fear I shall go bootless all my life - Adieu, gentlest and best of souls

adieu.

L. STERNE.

TO J- H— S —, ESQ.
Newark, Monday, ten o'clock in the morn.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

I HAVE got conveyed thus far like a bale of cadaverous goods consigned to Pluto and company lying in the bottom of my chaise most of the route, upon a large pillow which I had the prevoyance to purchase before I set out I am worn out - but press on to Barnby Moor to-night, and if possible to York the next. I know not what is the matter with me but some derangement presses hard upon this machine still I

think it will not be overset this bout. My love to G-. We shall all meet from the east, and from the south, and (as at the last) be happy together - My kind respects to a few,

I am, dear H.

L. STERNE.

TO A. L-E, ESQ.

Coxwould, June 7, 1767.

I HAD not been many days at this peaceful cottage before your letter greeted me with the seal of friendship, and most cordially do I thank you for so kind a proof of your good will I was truly anxious to hear of the recovery of my sentimental friend but I would not write to enquire after her, unless I could have sent her the testimony without the tax, for even how-d'yes to invalids, or those that have lately been so, either call to mind what is past or what may return at least I find it so. I am as happy as a prince, at Coxwould and I wish you could see in how princely a manner I live 'tis a land of plenty. I sit down alone to venison, fish, and wild-fowl, or a couple of fowls or ducks, with curds and strawberries, and cream, and all the simple plenty which a rich valley (under Hamilton Hills) can produce with a clean cloth on my table and a bottle of wine on my right hand to drink your health. I have a hundred hens and chickens about my yard and not a parishioner catches a hare, or a rabbit, or a trout, but he brings it as an offering to me. If solitude would cure a love-sick heart, I would give you an invitation but absence and time lessen no attachment which virtue inspires. I am in high spirits care never enters

this cottage

I take the air every day in my postchaise, with two long-tailed horses they turn out good ones; and as to myself, I think I am better upon the whole for the medicines and regimen I submitted to in town - May you, dear L-, want neither the one nor the other!

XCIX.

I AM in still better health, my dear L-e, than when I wrote last to you, owing I believe to my riding out every day with my friend H-, whose castle lies near the sea, and there is a beach as even as a mirror, of five miles in length before it where we daily run races in our chaises, with one wheel in the sea, and the other on land. D- has obtained his fair Indian, and has this post sent a letter of enquiries after Yorick, and his Bramin. He is a good soul, and interests himself much in our fate. I cannot forgive you, L-e, for your folly in saying you intend to get introduced to the-. I despise them, and I shall hold your understanding much cheaper than I now do, if you persist in a resolution so unworthy of you. I suppose Mrs. J- telling you they were sensible is the ground-work you go upon -by- they are not clever; though what is commonly called wit may pass for literature on the other side of Temple-Bar. You say Mrs. J.- thinks them amiable -- she judges too favourably; but I have put a stop to her intentions of visiting them. They are bitter enemies of mine, and I am even with them. La Bramine assured me they used their endeav

ours with her to break off her friendship with me, for reasons I will not write, but tell you. I said enough of them before she left England, and though she yielded to me in every other point, yet in this she obstinately persisted. Strange infatuation! but I think I have effected my purpose by a falsity, which Yorick's friendship to the Bramine can only justify. I wrote her word that the most amiable of women reiterated my request, that she would not write to them. I said too, she had concealed many things for the sake of her peace of mind when in fact, L-e, this was merely a child of my own brain, made Mrs. J-'s by adoption, to enforce the argument I had before urged so strongly. Do not mention this circumstance to Mrs. J-, 'twould displease her and I had no design in it but for the Bramine to be a friend to herself. I ought now to be busy from sun-rise to sunset, for I have a book to write - a wife to receive - an estate to sell parish to superintend, and, what is worst of all, a disquieted heart to reason with these are continual calls upon me. I have received half a dozen letters to press me to join my friends at Scarborough, but I am at present deaf to them all. I perhaps may pass a few days there something later in the season, not at present and so, dear L-e, adieu.

C.

I am most cordially yours,

L. STERNE.

TO IGNATIUS SANCHO.

Coxwould, June 30 [1767.]

a

I MUST acknowledge the courtesy of my good friend Sancho's letter were I ten times busier than I am, and must thank him too for the many expressions of his good will, and good opinion - "Tis all affectation to say a man is not gratified with being praised - we only want it to be sincere and then it will be taken, Sancho, as kindly as yours. I left town very poorly and with an idea I was taking leave of it for ever

but good air, a quiet retreat, and quiet reflections along with it, with an ass to milk, and another to ride upon (if I chuse it), all together do wonders. I shall live this year at least, I hope, be it but to give the world, before I quit it, as good impressions of me as you have, Sancho. I would only covenant for just so much health and spirits as are sufficient to carry my pen through the task I have set it this summer. But I am a resigned being, Sancho, and take health and sickness, as I do light and darkness, or the vicissitudes of seasons that is, just as it pleases God to send them and accommodate myself to their periodical returns as well as I can only taking care, whatever befals me in this silly world not to lose my temper at it. This I believe, friend Sancho, to be the truest philosophy - for this we must be indebted to ourselves, but not to our fortunes. Farewell - I hope you will not forget your custom of giving me a call at my lodgings next winter in the mean time, I am very cordially,

My honest friend Sancho,

L. STERNE.

Coxwould, July 6, 1767.

Ir is with as much true gratitude as ever heart felt, that I sit down to thank my dear friends Mr. and Mrs. J- for the continuation of their attention to me;