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to stay half a year with Mr. Featherston, a clergyman, about seven miles from Wicklow, who, being a relation of my mother's, invited us to his parsonage, at Animo.--It was in this parish, during our stay, that I had that wonderful escape in falling through a mill-race whilst the mill was going, and of being taken up unhurt-the story is incredible, but known for truth in all that part of Ireland-where hundreds of the common people flocked to see me.-From hence we followed the regiment to Dublin, where we lay in the barracks a year. this year, one thousand seven hundred and twenty-one, I learned to write, &c. The regiment was ordered in twenty-two to Carrickfergus, in the north of Ireland; we all decamped, but got no further than Drogheda, thence ordered to Mullengar, forty miles west, where by Providence we stumbled upon a kind relation, a collateral descendant from Archbishop Sterne, who took us all to his castle, and kindly entertained us for a year-and sent us to the regiment at Carrickfergus, loaded with kindnesses, &c.—a most rueful and tedious journey had we all, in March, to Carrickfergus, where we arrived in six or seven days little Devijeher here died; he was three years old he had been left behind

at nurse at a farm-house near Wicklow, but was fetched to us by my father. The summer after, another child was sent to fill his place, Susan; this babe, too, left us behind in this weary journey.-The autumn of that year, or the spring afterward, (I forget which,) my father got leave of his colonel to fix me at school-which he did near Halifax, with an able master; with whom I staid some time, till, by God's care of me, my cousin Sterne, of Elvington, became a father to me, and sent me to the university, &c. &c. To pursue the thread of our story, my father's regiment was the year after ordered to Londonderry, where another sister was brought forth, Catherine, still living, but most unhappily estranged from me by my uncle's wickedness, and her own folly-from this station the regiment was sent to defend Gibraltar, at the siege, where my father was run through the body by Captain Phillips, in a duel, -the quarrel began about a goose-with much difficulty he survived-though with a partial constitution, which was not able to withstand the hardships it was put tofor he was sent to Jamaica, where he soon fell by the country fever, which took away his senses first, and made a child of him, and then, in a month or two, walking about

continually without complaining till the moment he sat down in an arm chair, and breathed his last-which was at Port Antonio, on the north of the island. My fa ther was a little, smart man,-active to the last degree, in all exercises-most patient of fatigue and disappointments, of which it pleased God to give him full measure-he was in his temper somewhat rapid and hasty-but of a kindly, sweet disposition, void of all design; and so innocent in his own intentions, that he suspected no one so that you might have cheated him ten times in a day, if nine had not been sufficient for your purpose-my poor father died March, 1731-I remained at Halifax till about the latter end of the year, and cannot omit mentioning this anecdote of myself and schoolmaster-He had the ceiling of the schoolroom new white-washed-the ladder remained there-I one unlucky day mounted it, and wrote with a brush, in large capital letters, LAU. STERNE, for which the usher severely whipped me. My master was very much hurt at this, and said, before me, that never should that name be effaced, for I was a boy of genius, and he was sure I should come to preferment-this expression made me forget the stripes I had received. In the year thirty

two my cousin sent me to the university, where I staid some time. 'Twas there that I commenced a friendship with Mr.

which has been most lasting on both sides I then came to York, and my uncle got me the living of Sutton-and at York I became acquainted with your mother, and courted her for two years-she owned she liked me, but thought herself not rich enough, or me too poor, to be joined together-she went to her sister's in S-, and I wrote to her often-I believe then she was partly determined to have me, but would not say so-at her return she fell into a consumption-and one evening that I was sitting by her with an almost broken heart to see her so ill, she said, My dear Laurey, I can never be yours, for I verily believe I have not long to live-but I have left you every shilling of my fortune;"-upon that she showed me her will-this generosity overpowered It pleased God that she recovered, and I married her in the year 1741. My uncle and myself were then upon very good terms, for he soon got me the prebendary of York-but he quarrelled with me afterwards, because I would not write paragraphs in the newspapers-though he was a party-man, I was not, and detested such

me.

dirty work, thinking it beneath me-from that period, he became my bitterest enemy. By my wife's means I got the living of Stillington-a friend of hers in the South had promised her, that, if she married a clergyman in Yorkshire, when the living became vacant, he would make her a compliment of it. I remained near twenty years at Sutton, doing duty at both places I had then very good health. Books, painting, fiddling, and shooting were my amusements; as to the squire of the parish, I cannot say we were upon a very friendly footing-but at Stillington, the family of the C's showed us every kindness 'twas most truly agreeable to be within a mile and a half of an amiable family, who were ever cordial friends. the year 1760, I took a house at York for your mother and yourself, and went up to London to publish my two first volumes of Shandy. In that year Lord Falconbridge presented me with the curacy of Coxwould -a sweet retirement in comparison of Sutton. In sixty-two I went to France, before the peace was concluded, and you both followed me. I left you both in France, and in two years after, I went to Italy for the recovery of my health-and when I called upon you, I tried to engage your

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