then upon very good terms, for he soon got me the prebendary, of York-but he quarrelled with me afterwards, because I would not write paragraphs in the newspapers-though he was a party-man, I was not, and detested such dirty work; thinking it beneath me-from that period he became my bitterest enemy.-By my wife's meaus I got the living Stillington-a friend of hers in the south had promised her, that if she married a clergyman in Yorkshire, when the living became vacant, he would make her a compliment of it. I remained near twenty years at Sutton, doin duty at both places-I had then very good health.-Books, painting, fiddling and shooting, were my amusements; as to the 'Squire of the parish, I cannot say we were upon a very friendly footing-but at Stillington, the family of the C-s shewed us every kindness-'twas most truly agreeable to be within a mile and a half of an amiable family who were ever cordial friends. In the year 1760 I took a house at York, for your mother and yourself, and went up to London to publish my two first volumes of Shandy. In that year Lord Falconbridge presented me with the curacy of Coxwolda sweet retirement in comparison of Sutton. In sixty-two I went to France, before the peace was concluded, and you both followed me.-I left you both in France, and two years after I went to Italy for the recovery of my healthand when I called upon you, I tried to engage your mother to return to England with me-she and yourself are at length come, and I have had the inexpressible joy of seeing my girl every thing I wished her.

I have set down these particulars relating to my family, and self, for my Lydia§, in case, hereafter, she might have a curiosity, or a kinder motive, to know them.

MR. STERNE having thus brought down the account of himself till within a few months of his death, it remains only to be added, that he left York about the end of the

* It has, however, been insinuated, that he for some time wrote a periodical electioneering paper at York, in defence of the whig interest. See Monthly Review, vol. lii. p 344.

† A specimen of his abilities in the art of designing may be seen in Mr. Wodhul's Poems, published in 1772.

The first edition was printed the preceding year at York.

Hence it appears that this account of our author's life und family was written about six months before his death, deathy

§ His daughter.

year 1767, and came to London in order to publish the SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY, which he had written during the preceding summer at his favourite living of Coxwold. His health had been for some time declining, but he continued to visit his friends, and retained his usual flow of spirits. In February, 1768, he began to perceive the approaches of death, and, with the concern of a good man, and solicitude of an affectionate parent, devoted his attention to the future welfare of his daughter. His letters at this period reflect much credit on his character After a short struggle with his disorder, his debilitated and worn-out frame yielded to the stroke of death on the 18th of March, 1768, at his lodgings in Bond-street. He was buried in the new burying-ground belonging to the parish of St. George, Hanover-square, on the 22d of the same month, in the most private manner; and has since been indebted to strangers for a monument very unworthy of his memory.

1

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

THROUGH

FRANCE AND ITALY.

THEY order, said I, this matter better in France

-You have been in France? said my gentleman, turning quick upon me, with the most civil triumph in the world. Strange! quoth I, debating the matter with myself, that one-and-twenty miles sailing, for 'tis absolutely no farther from Dover to Calais, should give a man these rights—I'll look into them; so giving up the argument, I went straight to my lodgings, put up half a dozen shirts, and a black pair of silk breeches-the coat I have on, said I, looking at the sleeve, will do-took a place in the Dover stage and the packet sailing at nine the next morning by three I had got sat down to my dinner upon a fricassee'd chicken, so incontestably in France, that had I died that night of an indigestion, the whole world could not have suspended the effects of the droits d'aubane*—my shirts and black pair of silk breeches-portmanteau and all must have gone to the king of France-even the little picture which I have so long worn, and so often told thee, Eliza, I would carry with me into my grave,

* All the effects of strangers, (Swiss and Scotch excepted) dying in France, were seized by virtue of this law, though the heir was upon the spot--the profit of these contingencies being farmed, there was no redress.

would have been torn from my neck. Ungenerous! to eize upon the wreck of an unwary passenger, whom your subjects had beckoned to their coastby heaven! Sire, it is not well done; and much does it grieve me, 'tis the monarch of a people so civilized and courteous, and so renowned for sentiment and fine feelings, that I have to reason with—

But I have searce set foot in your dominions.

CALAIS.

WHEN I had finished my dinner, and drank the king of France's health, to satisfy my mind that I bore him no spleen, but, on the contrary, high honour for the humanity of his temper—I rose up an inch taller for the accommodation.

-No-said I-the Bourbon is by no means a cruel race; they may be misled, like other people; but there is a mildness in their blood. As 1 ac

knowledged this, I felt a suffusion of a finer kind upon my cheek- -more warm and friendly to man, than what Burgundy (at least of two livres a bottle, which was such as I had been drinking) could have produced.

-Just God! said I, kicking my portmanteau aside, what is there in this world's goods which should sharpen our spirits, and make so many kind-hearted brethren of us fall out so cruelly as we do by the way ?

When man is at peace with man, how much lighter than a feather is the heaviest of metals in his hand! he pulls out his purse, and, holding it airily and uncompressed, looks round him, as if he sought for an object to share it with.-In doing this 1 felt every vessel in my frame dilate-the arteries beat

all cheerily together, and every power which sus tained life, performed it with so little friction, that 'twould have confounded the most physical precieuse in France: with all her materialism she could scarce have called me a machine

I'm confident, said I to myself, I should have overset her creed.

The accession of that idea carried nature, at that time, as high as she could go- I was at peace with the world before, and this finished the treaty with myself

Now, was I a king of France, cried 1- -what a moment for an orphan to have begged his father's portmanteau of me!

THE MONK.

CALAIS.

I HAD Scarce uttered the words, when a poor monk, of the order of St. Francis, came into the room, to beg something for his convent. No man cares to have his virtues the sport of contingenciesor one man may be generous, as another man is puissant-sed non, quo ad hanc-or be it as it may for there is no regular reasoning upon the ebbs and flows of our humours; they may depend upon the same causes, for aught I know, which influence the tides themselves 'twould oft be no discredit to us to suppose it was so I'm sure, at least for myself, that in many a case, I should be more highly satisfied to have it said by the world I had an affair with the moon, in which there was neither sin nor shame," than have it pass altogether as my own act and deed, wherein there was so much of both.