four years together after; he had withstood these buffetings to the last, till sickness overtook him at Marseilles, from whence he wrote my uncle Toby word, he had lost his time, his services, his health, and, in short, every thing but his sword; waiting for the first ship to return back to him.

and was

As his letter came to hand about six weeks before Susannah's accident, Le Fever was hourly expected; and was uppermost in my uncle Toby's mind all the time my father was giving him and Yorick a description of what kind of a person he would chuse for a preceptor to me: but as my uncle Toby thought my father at first somewhat fanciful in the accomplishments he required, he forebore mentioning Le Fever's name, till the character, by Yorick's interposition, ending unexpectedly, in one, who should be gentletempered, and generous, and good, it impressed the image of Le Fever, and his interest, upon my uncle Toby so forcibly, he rose instantly off his chair; and laying down his pipe, in order to take hold of both my father's hands-I beg, brother Shandy, said my uncle Toby, I may recommend poor Le Fever's son to you—I beseech you do, added Yorick He has a good heart, said my uncle Toby

the corporal.

And a brave one too, an' please your honour, said

The best hearts, Trim, are ever the bravest, replied my uncle Toby. And the greatest cowards, an' please your honour, in our regiment, were the greatest rascals in it. -There was

sergeant Kumber, and ensign

We'll talk of them, said my father, another time.

SAUNTERINGS IN FRANCE

Nor

BOOK VII

CHAPTER I

I think, I said, I would write two volumes every year, provided the vile cough which then tormented me, and which to this hour I dread worse than the devil, would but give me leave and in another place (but where, I can't recollect now) speaking of my book at a machine, and laying my pen and ruler down crosswise upon the table, in order to gain the greater credit to it - I swore it should be kept a going at that rate these forty years, if it pleased but the fountain of life to bless me so long with health and good spirits.

Now as for my spirits, little have I to lay to their charge — nay so very little (unless the mounting me upon a long stick and playing the fool with me nineteen hours out of the twenty-four, be accusations) that on the contrary, I have much- much to thank 'em for: cheerily have ye made me tread the path of life with all the burthens of it (except its cares) upon my back; in no one moment of my existence, that I remember, have ye once deserted me, or tinged the objects which came in my way, either with sable, or with a sickly green; in dangers ye gilded my horizon with hope, and when DEATH himself knocked at my door-ye bad him come again; and in so gay a tone of careless indifference, did ye do it, that he doubted of his commission

"There must certainly be some mistake in this matter," quoth he.

Now there is nothing in this world I abominate worse, than to be interrupted in a story and I was that moment telling Eugenius a most tawdry one in my way, of a nun who fancied herself a shell

fish, and of a monk damn'd for eating a muscle, and was shewing him the grounds and justice of the procedure.

"Did ever so grave a personage get into so vile a scrape?" quoth Death. Thou hast had a narrow escape, Tristram, said Eugenius, taking hold of my hand as I finished my story.

But there is no living, Eugenius, replied I, at this rate; for as this son of a whore has found out my lodgings

- You call him rightly, said Eugenius,- for by sin, we are told, he enter'd the world I care not which way he enter'd, quoth

I, provided he be not in such a hurry to take me out with him for I have forty volumes to write, and forty thousand things to say and do which no body in the world will say and do for me, except thyself; and as thou seest he has got me by the throat (for Eugenius could scarce hear me speak across the table), and that I am no match for him in the open field, had I not better, whilst these few scatter'd spirits remain, and these two spider legs of mine (holding one of them up to him) are able to support me had I not better, Eugenius, fly for my life? 'Tis my advice, my dear Tristram, said Eugenius, Then by heaven! I will lead him a dance he little thinks of for I will gallop, quoth I, without looking once behind me, to the banks of the Garonne; and if I hear him clattering at my heels I'll scamper away to mount Vesuvius from thence to Jappa, and from Jappa to the world's end; where, if he follows me, I pray God he may break his neck

He runs more risk there, said Eugenius, than thou. Eugenius's wit and affection brought blood into the cheek from whence it had been some months banish'd

to bid adieu in; he led me to my chaiseboy gave a crack with his whip

'twas a vile moment Allons! said I; the post

off I went like a cannon,

and

in half a dozen bounds got into Dover.

CHAPTER II

NOW

'OW hang it! quoth I, as I look'd towards the French coasta man should know something of own country too, before he goes abroad and I never gave a peep into Rochester church, or took notice of the dock of Chatham, or visited St. Thomas at Canterbury, though they all three laid in my way-But mine, indeed, is a particular case

So without arguing the matter further with Thomas o' Becket,

or any one else

-I skip'd into the boat, and in five minutes we

got under sail, and scudded away like the wind.

Pray, captain, quoth I, as I was going down into the cabin, is a man never overtaken by Death in this passage?

Why, there is not time for a man to be sick in it, replied he What a cursed lyar! for I am sick as a horse, quoth I, already what a brain! upside down!- hey-day! the cells are broke loose one into another, and the blood, and the lymph, and the nervous juices, with the fix'd and volatile salts, are all jumbled into one mass good G-! every thing turns round in it like a thousand whirlpools— I'd give a shilling to know if I shan't

write the clearer for it

Sick! sick! sick! sick!

- When shall we get to land? captain — they have hearts like stones O I am deadly sick!

'tis the most discomfiting sickness

- Madam! how is it with you? undone! sir

reach me that thing, boy

I wish I was at the bottom Undone! undone! un

O!

What the first time? No, 'tis the second,

third, sixth, tenth time, sir, hey-day! - what a trampling over head! - hollo! cabin boy! what's the matter?

The wind chopp'd about! s'Death! - then I shall meet him full in the face.

What luck!

chop it

'tis chopp'd about again, master

O the devil

Captain, quoth she, for heaven's sake, let us get ashore.

CHAPTER III

It is a in convenience ten Calais and Paris, in behalf of

T is a great inconvenience to a man in a haste, that there are

which there is so much to be said by the several deputies from the towns which lie along them, that half a day is easily lost in settling which you'll take.

First, the road by Lisle and Arras, which is the most about but most interesting, and instructing.

The second, that by Amiens, which you may go, if you would see Chantilly

And that by Beauvais, which you may go, if you will.

For this reason a great many chuse to go by Beauvais.

CHAPTER IV

"Now beformis to give some account of it." - Now I think it

OW before I quit Calais," a travel-writer would say, "it would

very much amiss — that a man cannot go quietly through a town, and let it alone, when it does not meddle with him, but that he must be turning about and drawing his pen at every kennel he crosses over, merely o' my conscience for the sake of drawing it; because, if we may judge from what has been wrote of these things, by all who have wrote and gallop'd—or who have gallop'd and wrote, which is a different way still; or who, for more expedition than the rest, have wrote galloping, which is the way I do at present from the great Addison, who did it with his satchel of school books hanging at his a—, and galling his beast's crupper at every stroke - there is not a galloper of us all who might not have gone on ambling quietly in his own ground (in case he had any), and have wrote all he had to write, dryshod, as well as not.

For my own part, as heaven is my judge, and to which I shall ever make my last appeal - I know no more of Calais (except the little my barber told me of it as he was whetting his razor), than I do this moment of Grand Cairo; for it was dusky in the evening when I landed, and dark as pitch in the morning when I set out, and yet by merely knowing what is what, and by drawing this from that in one part of the town, and by spelling and putting this and that together in another I would lay any travelling odds, that I this moment write a chapter upon Calais as long as my arm; and with so distinct and satisfactory a detail of every item, which is worth a stranger's curiosity in the town that you would take me for the town-clerk of Calais itself— and where, sir, would be the wonder? was not Democritus, who laughed ten times more than I-town-clerk of Abdera? and was not (I forget his name) who had more discretion than us both, town-clerk of Ephesus? it should be penn'd moreover, sir, with so much knowledge and good sense, and truth, and precision

Nay if you don't believe me, you may read the chapter for your pains.