pursue, as usual, the gratification of my senses, in despite of thee and all thy misanthropy. But-ah! my soul appears-and I must listen, even against my will. SOUL. Thou wretched mass! bag of earth! pasture of worms! itinerant sink! horrid carcase! the abode of serpents, and the retreat of toads! darest thou to oppose the laws which I dictate to thee, for the short time which we shall now remain together, after having, by a fatal complaisance allowed thee, for such a length of time, all that thy infamous desires could crave? Art thou most ungrateful, or most criminal? Thou now refusest me a few tears, after having afforded thee, for such series of years, innumerable delights. But, alas! vain and imaginary is all terrestrial felicity! Can'st thou deny a few sighs, after so much joy; a useful solitude, after such a long and scandalous commerce with the world! some mortifications, after myriads of such vain delights; some little contempt, after so much pride; in a word, a state of repentance, so short as will be our union, for so many years of idle or vitious gratification, and of which I must one day give an account to the sovereign Judge ? Thou contemptible rebel! thou blind vessel of clay and dirt! thou, by thy disobedience, art as unworthy of my care, as I am of mercy, by my past inconsiderate partiality for thee. But mine eyes are now open: I perceive the absolute power I ought to have had over thee, and I will now exercise it. Wherefore no longer oppose my mandates; and henceforward expcet nothing from me in this world but affliction. I command thee to submit with patience, as thou canst not, from thy nature, do it with pleasure, to the keenest anguish of this life. By thy present tears, I will endeavour to purge away the foul stains of thy past actions thy present humility may obliterate the remembrance of thy former vanity. Have not thy works tended to the corruption of the age? to the depravity of the morals of the rising generation? - What recompense canst thou offer! not thy religious discourses; they are but a small counterpoise, and read but by few. AWAKE. HERE a noise in the street awoke me; and I was glad to find this was only a vision: it however operated so strongly upon my mind, that, added to my present weakness, I was scarce able to support the remembrance of it. I saw, but too clearly saw, the justness of the reasoning of my soul, even in sleep. What a wretch am I!-how have I misapplied those talents that nature destined for superior uses! vile dauber of paper! Oh my brain!-Eugenius! my brain ! The grim tyrant now in earnest seizes me so violently by the throat, that my friend Eugenius can scarce hear me cry across the table! THE CATASTROPHE. He's gone! for ever gone * ! Poor Yorick! he was a fellow of infinite jest! of most excellent fancy ! - where be your gibes now? -your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? - not one now-quite chop-fallen! Alas! alas! alas! poor Yorick. This, with the spontaneous flood of friendship, your Eugenius sighs. * Mr. Sterne died in March 1768, soon after the publication of the two volumes of his Sentimental Journey. END OF THE FOURTH VOLUME. |