condemned his villany while coward guilt sat on his sullen brow, and, like a criminal conscious of his deed, tremblingly pronounced his fear. He hoped means might be found for a sufficient atonement offered a tender of his hand as a satisfaction, and a life devoted to her service as a recompense for his error. His humiliation struck me 'twas the only means he could have contrived to assuage my anger. I hesitated paused - thought and still must think on so important a concern; assist me I am half afraid of trusting my Harriot in the hands of a man whose character I too well know to be the antipodes of Harriot's He all fire and dissipation; - she all meekness and sentiment! nor can I think there is any hope of reformation: the offer proceeds more from surprise, or fear, than justice and sincerity. The world the world will exclaim, and my Harriot be a cast-off from society. Let her I had rather see her thus, than miserably linked for life to a lump of vice. She shall retire to some corner of the world, and there weep out the remainder of her days in sorrow forgetting the wretch who has abused her confidence, but ever remembering the friend who consoles her in retirement. You, my dear Charles, shall bear a part with me in the delightful task of whispering "peace to those who are in trouble, and healing the broken in spirit." Adieu. LAURENCE STERNE I FEEL the weight of obligation which your friendship has laid upon me, and if it should never be in my power to make you a recompense, I hope you will bẹ -- recompensed at the resurrection of the just. I hope, Sir, we shall both be found in that catalogue; - and we are encouraged to hope, by the example of Abraham's faith, even against hope. I think there is, at least, as much probability of our reaching, and rejoicing in the haven where we would be, as there was of the old Patriarch's having a child by his old wife. There is not any person living, or dead, whom I have so strong a desire to see and converse with as yourself: indeed I have no inclination to visit, or say a syllable to but a few persons in this lower vale of vanity and tears, beside you; but I often derive a peculiar satisfaction in conversing with the ancient and modern dead, who yet live and speak excellently in their works. My neighbours think me often alone, -and yet at such times I am in company with more than five hundred mutes each of whom, at my pleasure, communicates his ideas to me by dumb signs --- quite as intelligibly as any person living can do by the uttering of words. They always keep the distance from me which I direct, and with a motion of my hand, I can bring them as near to me as I please. I lay hands on fifty of them sometimes in an evening, and handle them as I like: they never complain of ill-usage, and when dismissed from my presence, take no offence. Such con though ever so abruptly venience is not to be enjoyed nor such liberty to be taken with the living: we are bound in point of good manners, to admit all our pretended friends when they knock for an entrance, and dispense with all the nonsense or impertinence which they broach till they think proper to withdraw: nor can we take the liberty of humbly and decently opposing their senti ments, without exciting their disgust, and being in danger of their splenetic representation after they have left us. I am weary of talking to the many who though quick of hearing are so slow of heart to believe propositions which are next to self-evident; and I were not cast in one mould, you corporal com parison will attest it, and yet we are fashioned so much alike that we may pass for twins: were it possible to take an inventory of all our sentiments and feelings -just and unjust holy and impure there would appear as little difference between them as there is between instinct and reason, or wit and madness: the barriers which separate these like the real essence of bodies escape the piercing eye of metaphysics, and cannot be pointed out more clearly than geometricians define a straight line, which is said to have length without breadth. O ye learned anatomical aggre+ gates, who pretend to instruct other aggregates! be as candid as the sage whom ye pretend to revere and tell them that all you know is, that you know nothing! I have a mort to communicate to you on difmy mountain will be in labour till I what then? why you must ferent subjects and then see you I therefore beseech you to have a watchful eye to the cats! but it is said that mice were designed to be killed by cats! cats to be worried by dogs, &c. &c. may be true This and I think I am made to be killed which is a perpetual plague to me; what, in the name of sound lungs, has my cough to do by my cough, with you or you with my cough? I am, Sir, with the most perfect affection and esteem, Your humble servant, I.. STERNE. CXXXI. TO ****. DEAR SIR, I HAVE received your kind letter of critical, and, I will add, of parental, advice, which, contrary to my natural humour, set me upon looking gravely for half a day together: sometimes I concluded you had not spoke out, but had stronger grounds for your hints and cautions than what your good-nature knew how to tell me, especially with regard to prudence, as a divine; and that you thought in your heart the vein of humour too free for the solemn colour of my coat. A meditation upon Death had been a more suitable trimming to it, I own; but then it could not have been set on by me. Mr. F, whom I regard in the class I do you, as my best of critics and well-wishers, preaches daily to me on the same text: "Get your preferment first, Lory," he says, "and then write and welcome." But suppose preferment is long a-coming and, for aught I know, I may not be preferred till the resurrection of the just and am all that time in labour, how must I bear my pains? Like pious divines? or rather like able philosophers, knowing that one passion is only to be combatted with another? But to be serious (if I can), I will use all reasonable caution only with this caution along with it, not to spoil my book, that is the air and originality of it, which must resemble the author; and I fear it is the number of these slighter touches which make the resemblance, and identify it from all others of the same stamp, which this understrapping virtue of prudence would oblige me to strike out. A able critic, and one of very colour too, my who has read over Tristram, made answer, upon my saying I would consider the colour of my coat as I cor rected it, that that idea in my head would render my book not worth a groat. Still I promise to be cautious; but deny I have gone as far as Swift: he keeps a due distance from Rabelais; I keep a due distance from him. Swift has said a hundred things I durst not say, unless I was Dean of St. Patrick's. I like your caution, "ambitiosa recides ornamenta.' As I revise my book, I will shrive my conscience upon that sin, and whatever ornaments are of that kind shall. be defaced without mercy. Ovid is justly censured for being "ingenii sui amator;" and it is a reasonable hint to me as I'm not sure I am clear of it. To sport too much with your wit, or the game that wit has pointed out, is surfeiting; like toying with a man's mistress, it may be very delightful solacement to the inamorato but little to the bye-stander. Though I plead guilty to part of the charge, yet it would greatly alleviate the crime, if my readers knew how much I have suppressed of this device. I have burnt more wit than I have published, on that very account, since I began to avoid the fault, I fear, I may yet have given proofs of. will reconsider Slop's fall, and my two minute description of it; but, in general, I am persuaded that the happiness of the Cervantic humour arises from this very thing, of describing silly and trifling events with the circumstantial pomp of great ones. Perhaps this is overloaded, and I can ease it. I have a project of getting Tristram put into the hands of the Archbishop, if he comes down this autumn, which will ease my mind of all trouble upon the topic of discretion. I am, &c. I L. STERNE. |