omestic infelicity;
he communicates to her the minutest events of his early fame; and these
letters, which certainly seem very like love-letters, present a picture of
his life in town in the full flower of his fame eager with hope and
flushed with success.

LETTER I.

"My dear Kitty,--I beg you will accept of the inclosed sermon, which I do
not make you a present of merely because it was wrote by myself, but
because there is a beautiful character in it of a tender and compassionate
mind in the picture given of Elijah. Read it, my dear Kitty, and believe
me when I assure you that I see something of the same kind and gentle
disposition in your heart which I have painted in the prophet's, which has
attached me so much to you and your interests, that I shall live and die

"Your affectionate and faithful servant,

"Laurence Sterne.

"P.S.--If possible, I will see you this afternoon before I go to Mr.
Fothergil's. Adieu, dear friend,--I had the pleasure to drink your health
last night."

LETTER II.

"My dear Kitty,--If this billet catches you in bed, you are a lazy, sleepy
little slut, and I am a giddy, foolish, unthinking fellow, for keeping you
so late up--but this Sabbath is a day of rest, at the same time that it is
a day of sorrow; for I shall not see my dear creature to-day, unless you
meet me at Taylor's half an hour after twelve; but in this do as you like.
I have ordered Matthew to turn thief, and steal you a quart of honey; what
is honey to the sweetness of thee, who art sweeter than all the flowers it
comes from! I love you to distraction, Kitty, and will love you on so to
eternity--so adieu, and believe, what time will only prove me, that I am,

"Yours."

LETTER III.

"My dear Kitty,--I have sent you a pot of sweetmeats and a pot of honey
--neither of them half so sweet as yourself--but don't be vain upon this,
or presume to grow sour upon this character of sweetness I give you; for
if you do I shall send you a pot of pickles (by way of contraries) to
sweeten you up, and bring you to yourself again--whatever changes happen
to you, believe me that I am unalterably yours, and according to your
motto, such a one, my dear Kitty,

"Qui ne changera pas qu'en mourant.

"L.S."

He came up to town in 1760, to publish the two first volumes of 'Shandy,'
of which the first edition had appeared at York the preceding year.

LETTER IV.

"_London, May 8._

"My dear Kitty,--I have arrived here saf