T  H  E

L   I   F   E

A  N  D



G E N T L E M A N.

Non enim excursus hic ejus, sed opus ipsum est.
LIN. Lib. quintus Epistola sexta.


L  O  N  D  O  N :
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONT,
in the Strand.   M DCC LXV.


E R R A T A.

Page 33. Vol. VII. last line, dele and.
Page 71. Vol. VII. 3d line, instead of striking,
  read sticking.
Page 34. Vol. VIII. 13th line, read inflam-


L. SterneAutographT H E

L I F E  and  O P I N I O N S


T R I S T R A M S H A N D Y, Gent.


C H A P. I.

NO ---- I think, I said, I would
write two volumes every year,
provided the vile cough which then tor-
mented 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) speak-
ing of my book as a machine, and lay-
ing my pen and ruler down cross-wise
   VOL. VII.        B            upon

[ 2 ]

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

   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 burdens of it (except
its cares) upon my back ; in no one mo-
ment of my existence, that I remember,
have ye once deserted me, or tinged the ob-
jects which came in my way, either with
             9              sable,

[ 3 ]

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 proce-
dure ----

             B 2              `` -- Did

[ 4 ]

`` -- 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, re-
plied I, at this rate ; for as this son of a
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 nobody in the world will sey and
do for me, except thyself ; and as thou
             8              seest

[ 5 ]

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 look-
ing 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 Jop-
pa, and from Joppa to the world's end,
where, if he follows me, I pray God
he may break his neck ----
             B3              -- He

[ 6 ]

   -- 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 -- 'twas a
vile moment to bid adieu in ; he led me
to my chaise ---- Allons! said I ; the post
boy gave a crack with his whip ---- off
I went like a cannon, and in half a dozen
bounds got into Dover.

                          C H A P.

[ 7 ]

C H A P. II.

NOW hang it! quoth I, as I look'd
towards the French coast -- a man
should know something of his 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 Can-
terbury, 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.

             B 4              Pray

[ 8 ]

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

   Why, there is not time for a man to be
sick in it, replied he ---- What a cursed
liar! for I am sick as a horse, quoth I,
already ---- what a brain! ---- upside
down! ---- heyday! 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 whirl-
pools ---- I'd give a shilling to know if
I shan't write the clearer for it ----

   Sick! sick! sick! sick! ----


[ 9 ]

   -- When shall we get to land, captain
-- they have hearts like stones ---- O I
am deadly sick! ---- reach me that thing,
boy ---- 'tis the most discomfiting sick-
ness ---- I wish I was at the bottom --
Madam! how is it with you? Undone!
undone! un ---- O! undone! sir --
What, the first time? ---- No, 'tis the se
cond, 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! -- 'tis chopp'd about again,
master ---- O the devil chop it ----

   Captain, quoth she, for heaven's sake,
let us get ashore.
                          C H A P.

[ 10 ]


IT is a great inconvenience to a man
in a haste, that there are three distinct
roads between Calais and Paris, in behalf
of 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 Lille and Arras,
which is the most about ---- but most in-
teresting, and instructing.

   The second that by Amiens, which
you may go, if you would see Chan-
tilly ----

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


[ 11 ]

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

C H A P. IV.

``NOW before I quit Calais,'' a tra-
vel-writer would say, ``it would
``not be amiss to give some account of
``it.'' -- Now I think it 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

[ 12 ]

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, dry
shod, 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 know-

[ 13 ]

ing what is what, and by drawing this
from that in one part of the town, and
by spelling and putting this and that to-
gether in another -- I would lay any tra-
velling 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

[ 14 ]

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

C H A P. V.

CALAIS, Calatium, Calusium,

   This town, if we may trust its ar-
chives, the authority of which I see no
reason to call in question in this place --
was once no more than a small village be-
longing to one of the first Counts de
Guines ; and as it boasts at present of no
less than fourteen thousand inhabitants,
exclusive of four hundred and twenty
distinct families in the basse ville, or sub-
urbs ---- it must have grown up by little
and little, I suppose, to its present size.


[ 15 ]

   Though there are four convents, there
is but one parochial church in the whole
town ; I had not an opportunity of taking
its exact dimensions, but it is pretty easy
to make a tolerable conjecture of 'em --
for as there are fourteen thousand inhabi-
tants in the town, if the church holds
them all, it must be considerably large --
and if it will not -- 'tis a very great pity
they have not another -- it is built in form
of a cross, and dedicated to the Virgin
Mary ; the steeple, which has a spire to
it, is placed in the middle of the church,
and stands upon four pillars elegant and
light enough, but sufficiently strong
at the same time -- it is decorated with eleven
altars, most of which are rather fine than
beautiful. The great altar is a master-
piece in its kind ; 'tis of white marble,
and as I was told near sixty feet high --

[ 16 ]

had it been much higher, it had been as
high as mount Calvary itself -- therefore,
I suppose it must be high enough in all

   There was nothing struck me more
than the great Square ; tho' I cannot say
'tis either well paved or well built ; but 'tis
in the heart of the town, and most of the
streets, especially those in that quarter,
all terminate in it ; could there have been
a fountain in all Calais, which it seems
there cannot, as such an object would
have been a great ornament, it is not to be
doubted, but that the inhabitants would
have had it in the very centre of this
square, -- not that it is properly a square,
-- because 'tis forty feet longer from east
to west, than from north to south ; so
that the French in general have more

[ 17 ]

reason on their side in calling them
Places than Squares, which strictly speak-
ing, to be sure they are not.

   The town-house seems to be but a sorry
building, and not to be kept in the best
repair ; otherwise it had been a second
great ornament to this place ; it answers
however its destination, and serves very
well for the reception of the magistrates,
who assemble in it from time to time ; so
that 'tis presumable, justice is regularly

   I had heard much of it, but there is
nothing at all curious in the Courgain ;
'tis a distinct quarter of the town inhabi-
ted solely by sailors and fishermen; it
consists of a number of small streets,
neatly built and mostly of brick ; 'tis
   VOL. VII        C         extremely

[ 18 ]

extremely populous, but as that may be
accounted for, from the principles of
their diet, -- there is nothing curious in
that neither. ---- A traveller may see it to
satisfy himself -- he must not omit how-
ever taking notice of La Tour de Guet,
upon any account ; 'tis so called from its
particular destination, because in war it
serves to discover and give notice of the
enemies which approach the place, either
by sea or land ; ---- but 'tis monstrous
high, and catches the eye so continually,
you cannot avoid taking notice of it, if
you would.

   It was a singular disappointment to me,
that I could not have permission to take
an exact survey of the fortifications,
which are the strongest in the world, and

[ 19 ]

which, from first to last, that is, from the
time they were set about by Philip of
France Count of Bologne, to the present
war, wherein many reparations were
made, have cost (as I learned afterwards
from an engineer in Gascony) -- above
a hundred millions of livres. It is
very remarkable that at the Tête de Gra-
and where the town is naturally
the weakest, they have expended the
most money ; so that the outworks stretch
a great way into the campaign, and con-
sequently occupy a large tract of ground.
-- However, after all that is said and done,
it must be acknowledged that Calais was
never upon any account so considerable
from itself, as from its situation, and that
easy entrance which it gave our ances-
tors upon all occasions into France :
it was not without its inconveniences
             C 2              also ;