we never attempted to deprive Mr. Sterne of thofe laurels that he deserved to wear; nor are we fuch enemies to his memory as to believe that his fecond chapter, which is levelled at the Critical Reviewers, is genuine. We allow that Mr. Sterne might feel, nay be impatient, under the correction we applied to his immoralities and foibles; but we cannot imagine that he could be dull at fecond-hand by being guilty of a hackneyed pun, and talk of birds hunting for pleasure.'

We know not what degree of credit to allow to the account that Mr. Sterne, or, if the reader pleases, Triftram Shandy, gives of himself and his friends. We have fome idea that it is partly true and partly fictitious. He pretends that his uncle was a ministerial writer, though a divine, under Sir Robert Walpole, whofe adminiftration ended about thirty years ago; but having no fuccefs, he employed his nephew, young Triftram, to write a political pamphlet, which procured the uncle prefer. ment from that minifter.-We are afraid that this account contains an anachronism with regard to Triftram's age; and that it is intended only to expofe the futility of fuch minifterial writers as Sir Robert employed, who were even proverbially dull and illiberal; and, fays he, fo finishes the fixth chapter. The fucceeding one is in Triftram's beft manner, and, as we have some reason to believe it is not deftitute of foundation in truth, it does honour to his virtue and humanity.

And now it is high time to commence a new one.—But I am again precipitating matters and things too haftily-I was always giddy-The reader must have time allowed him for digeftion-Let us take up my ftory a little higher.

'My father was an Englishman, and had a command in the army-He was ftationed in Ireland at the time of my birth, which happened-I forgot what year-in the city of Clonmel.I remained in that kingdom till I was about twelve years oldand there I received the first rudiments of literature, from the kindness and humanity of a lieutenant, who was in the fame corps with my father-his name was Le Fevre.

But indeed I owe infinitely more to him than my Latin grammar. It was he that taught me the Grammar of Virtue.It was this most excellent perfon who first instilled into my mind the principles-not of a Parfon—but of a Divine-It was he who imbued my foul with humanity, benevolence, and charity-It was he who infpired me with that vibration for the diftreffes of mankind,

Which, like the needle true,

Turns at the touch of others woe,

And turning trembles too."

H 4

-It

It was he who inftructed me that temperance is the beft fource of charity.-'Tis in this fenfe only that it should ever be faid to begin at home-Readers, throw your gouts, your cholics, your fcuivies to the poor.

It was he who furnished me with this admirable hint to charity that the more a perfon wants, the lefs will do bim good.— It was he who foftened my nature to that tender fenfibility, and fond fympathy, which have created the principal pains and pleafures of my life; and which will, I trust in God, infure the latter, in the next, without its alloy.-Amen!

This good man has been long dead; and in grateful honour of his memory, I have mentioned his name in another place 'Twas all I could! I would have plucked a nestle from his grave, had 1 feen one ever grow there-For furely there was nothing, either in the humours of his body, or the temperament of his mind, that fuch a noli me tangere weed could be nourished by, or emblematic of—'

Our reader will doubtless find entertainment in his tenth chapter.

I formerly used to prefer Pliny's Epifiles, and Seneca's Morals, before Cicero's writings of both kinds—because of the points of wit, and quaint turps, in the former.-I remember when I thought Horace and Catullus flat and infipid - but then it was when I admired Martial and Cowly.

Plain meats, fimply dreffed, are certainly more wholesome food, than higher cooked repasts -But one who has indulged, or rather depraved, his appetite with the latter viands, cannot, without difficulty, recover his natural re ifh for the former. We are juft in the fame circumftances in literature,

The fport of fancy, and a play of words, may have, perhaps, this effect, to fix the fentiment more ftrongly in the mind-but I feldom found that they carried their ufes furtherPlay round the head, but enter not the heart.

Strong phrafes, and oppofition of terms, may store the common place of memory with apt fentiments, which may help a perfon to fine, in writing, or in converfation: but this wants the true splendor of learning, the temporato ufu; while found fenfe and reafon, more plainly expreffed, operates upon us in the nature of an alterative medicine — slow, but sure.

And though by degrees we bound, with vigour not our own; yet not being able directly to impute our ftrength to any foreign affiftance, we are apt to cherish that fenfe and virtue, which we by this means acquire, as we do the heirs of cur own Loins-while thofe acquifitions we make, by the help of remem

bered

bered wit only, are received into the heart as coldly as an adop

tion.

I find myself moralizing here, fomewhat in the very stile I have been reprehending--but I have not restrained my pen-for when we condemn a fault-to carry on the veinwe should endeavour to make an example of it.—And it may be applied to me, what was faid of Jeremy, in Love for Love, "that he was declaiming against wit, with all the wit he could mufter."

But witty I am henceforth refolved to be for the rest of my life.-Lord, Sir, refolution is a powerful thing; it has rendered many a coward brave, and a few women chaste.-Let us try now whether this fame miraculous faculty cannot make one parfon witty for a wonder.'

The wit of fome chapters in this volume is far from atoning for their levity and indecency; nor fhall we pretend to account for the adventure that firft involved our author in debt.

-I was obliged to borrow two hundred pounds, beyond my own currency, upon this occafion-I had no fufficient fecurity to proffer.-But captain Le Fevre happened luckily juft then to have fold out of the army—I mortgaged the flory to him, and he lent me the money.

He was not a man to accept of intereft, fo I made him a prefent. He loved reading much-A collection of ingenious and entertaining papers, ftiled The World, happened to be juft then collected together, and published, in four volumes.-I fent them to him, with the following lines infcribed. They were the first rhimes I had ever attempted to tag in my life.

To Captain Lewis Le Fevre.

For one who rafhly lent me cafh, 'tis fit
That I should make a venture too in wit.—
In vain I through my pericranium fought:
But having heard, that wit is best that's bought,
I fent to Dodfley's, for thefe prefents few,
To let all men know I am bound to you.

Great Sawney wept, that one world was no ftore-
How happier you, who now may laugh at four.'

Pray reader would those rhimes have fuffered had they been docked of their epigramic point in their two last lines?

I happened, continues he, to dine with a friend of mine.Wine was wanting-He fent me to the cellar.-It had been hewed out of a folid rock.-At my return into the room, I wrote the following extempore card to my hoft, and threw it across the table:

. When

• When Mofes ftruck the rock with rod divine,
Cold water flow'd-yours yields us gen'rous wine-
So at the marriage-feaft, the fcriptures tell us,
That water turn'd to wine rejoic'd good fellows.

• Some years after this very harmless fport of fancy, these lines were quoted against me, by a certain bishop, as a proof that I neither believed one word of the Old Teftament, nor of the New. This stopped my preferment.-I only fimiled, and preferred myfelf-to him.'

There is fomething original in the following anecdote, and the reflections upon it.

Since I am in for it, I'll tell you another excommunicable thing I did. Whether before, or after, I forget.—Is it any matter which?

In the city of, the church was repairing, and the corporation of that town had accommodated the parish with their Thoifel, or town-house, as a chapel of ease, for the time.

There happened to have been an election for that city not long before. Upon which mercantile occafion, the worshipful mayor, aldermen, &c. had notorionfly - ---You know

how elections are ufually carried on, and what admirable fecurities they are become, of late, for our lives, liberties, and properties!

I was among the congregation one Sunday, when the gofpel for the day happened to be taken out of the nineteenth chapter of St. Luke, where our Saviour is faid to have driven the buyers and fellers out of the temple. An impetus of honest indignation feized me. I took out my pencil, and wrote the following hafty lines on one of the pannels of the pew I fat in: Whoever reads nineteenth of Luke, believes

The house of prayer was once a den of thieves-
Now, by permiffion of our pious mayor,
A den of thieves is made an houfe of prayer.

I was obferved. I happened to have been admitted a freeman in that corporation fome time before this incident; and having been detected in the above farcafm, the mayor had my name immediately ftruck out of the books, ex efficio merely-without any manner of legal process or pretence.

But here I have no reafon to complain.-I had certainly, in this inftance, been guilty of an impiety against the fraternity of this corporation-and they refented it like men.-I am only furprized at the fallability of your divines.

--

Among whom there are many pious ejaculators, who think that I ought to have been excommunicated long ago. However, I am fure that I am well enough intitled to be received a priest,

in the Perfian temples at least-as all the initiated were obliged to pass first through a noviciate of reproach and pain, to give proofs of their being free from paffion, refentment, and impatience.

I am in the fame predicament with Cato the cenfor—not in the severity of his difcipline, I confefs-but in the particuJar, at leaft, of his having been fourfcore times accufed.-But he had the advantage of fairer trials than ever I had-for he was as often acquitted.

God forgive them! But I forgive them their prayers, in return, on account of the old proverb.-Need I repeat it?' Triftram always fpeaks for Mr. Sterne, even while he is on his death-bed.

For my own part, I trust that the gentle breezes of the established orthodoxy of our church may be ftrong enough to waft my foul to heaven.-I have not fuch a weight of fin fufpended at the tail of my kite, as to require a storm to raise it. And fince the ceafing of the oracles, I think that a perfon may be infpired with fufficient grace, without falling into convulfions.'

The following character of the female Confucius is, we think, drawn with a moft masterly hand.

J happened to be very ill at the time, and fitting by the fire-fide one morning in my lodgings, when I received a very polite card, in a female hand, unknown, acquainting me, that having been ftruck with that rich vein of philanthropy, she was pleased to fay, which flowed like milk and honey through all my writings, Mrs. would be much obliged, and flattered, if I would afford her an opportunity of a perfonal acquaintance with the author, by doing her the favour of drinking tea with her that evening.

I was too weak to venture abroad. I wrote her word foaffured her that I longed equally for the pleasure of an acquaintance with any perfon, whofe heart and mind feemed to fympathize with thofe affections fhe was fo kind to compliment me upon, and intreated the honour of a fans ceremonie vifit from her, upon this occafion, that very evening.

• She condefcended to accept my invitation, and came accordingly. She visited me every day while I continued confined;—which kindness I returned, moft punctually, as foon as I was able to go abroad.

She was a woman of fenfe and virtue-not lively, but poffeffed of that charming fort of even chearfulness which naturally flows from goodness.-Mens confcia recti.-She was referved, and, like a ghoft, would rarely fpeak till spoken to.

She