Representations of Reality in the Eighteenth-century English

Novel. Practical Applications

1. Daniel Defoe, The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll

Flanders

Wandering thus about, I knew not whither, I passed by an apothecary's shop in

Leadenhall Street, when I saw lie on a stool just before the counter a little bundle
wrapped in a white cloth; beyond it stood a maid-servant with her back to it, looking
towards the top of the shop, where the apothecary's apprentice, as I suppose, was
standing upon the counter, with his back also to the door, and a candle in his hand,
looking and reaching up to the upper shelf for something he wanted, so that both were
engaged mighty earnestly, and nobody else in the shop.
This was the bait; and the devil, who I said laid the snare, as readily prompted
me as if he had spoke, for I remember, and shall never forget it, 'twas like a voice
spoken to me over my shoulder, 'Take the bundle; be quick; do it this moment.' It was
no sooner said but I stepped into the shop, and with my back to the wench, as if I had
stood up for a cart that was going by, I put my hand behind me and took the bundle, and
went off with it, the maid or the fellow not perceiving me, or any one else.
It is impossible to express the horror of my soul al the while I did it. When I went
away I had no heart to run, or scarce to mend my pace. I crossed the street indeed,
and went down the first turning I came to, and I think it was a street that went through
into Fenchurch Street. From thence I crossed and turned through so many ways an
turnings, that I could never tell which way it was, not where I went; for I felt not the
ground I stepped on, and the farther I was out of danger, the faster I went, till, tired and
out of breath, I was forced to sit down on a little bench at a door, and then I began to
recover, and found I was got into Thames Street, near Billingsgate. I rested me a little
and went on; my blood was all in a fire; my heart beat as if I was in a sudden fright. In
short, I was under such a surprise that I still knew not wither I was going, or what to do.
After I had tired myself thus with walking a long way about, and so eagerly, I
began to consider and make home to my lodging, where I came about nine o'clock at
night.
When the bundle was made up for, or on what occasion laid where I found it, I
knew not, but when I came to open it I found there was a suit of childbed-linen in it, very
good and almost new, the lace very fine; there was a silver porringer of a pint, a small
silver mug and six spoons, with some other linen, a good smock, and three silk
handkerchiefs, and in the mug, wrapped up in a paper, 18s. 6d. in money. (1994: 209-
211)
2. Jonathan Swift, Gulliver’s Travels

This Academy is not an entire single Building, but a Continuation of several

Houses on both Sides of a Street; which growing waste, was purchased and applyed to
that Use.
I was received very kindly by the Warden, and went for many Days to the
Academy. Every Room hath in it one or more Projectors; and I believe I could not be in
fewer than five Hundred Rooms.
The first Man I saw was of a meager Aspect, with sooty Hands and Face, his Hair
and Beard long, ragged and singed in several Places. His Cloathes, Shirt, and Skin
were all of the same Colour. He had been Eight Years upon a Project for extracting
Sun-Beams out of Cucumbers, which were to be put into Vials hermetically sealed, and
let out to warm the Air in raw inclement Summers. He told me he did not doubt in Eight
Years more he should be able to supply the Governors Gardens with Sun-shine at a
reasonable Rate; but he complained that his stock was low, and intreated me to give
him something as an Encouragement to Ingenuity, especially since this had been a very
dear Season for Cucumbers. I made him a small Present, for my Lord had furnished me
with Money on Purpose, because he knew their Practice of begging from all who go to
see them.
I went into another Chamber, but was ready to hasten back, being almost
overcome with a horrible Stink. My Conductor pressed me forward, conjuring me in a
Whisper to give no Offence, which would be highly resented; and therefore I durst not
so much as stop my Nose. The Projector of this Cell was the most ancient Student of
the Academy. His Face and Beard were of a pale Yellow; his Hands and Clothes
daubed over with Filth. When I was presented to him, he gave me a close Embrace (a
Compliment I could well have excused.) His Employment from his first coming into the
Academy, was an Operation to reduce human Excrement to its original Food, by
separating the several Parts, removing the Tincture which it receives from the Gall,
making the Odour exhale, and scumming off the Saliva. He had a weekly Allowance
from the Society, of a Vessel filled with human Ordure about the Bigness of a Bristol
Barrel.
I saw another at work to calcine Ice into Gunpowder; who likewise shewed me a
Treatise he had written concerning the Malleability of Fire, which he intended to publish.
There was a most ingenious Architect who had contrived a new Method for
building Houses, by beginning at the Roof, and working downwards to the Foundation;
which he justified to me by the like Practice of those two prudent Insects, the Bee and
the Spider.
There was a Man born blind, who had several Apprentices in his own Condition:
Their Employment was to mix Colours for Painters, which their Master taught them to
distinguish by feeling and smelling. It was indeed my Misfortune to find them at that
Time not very perfect in their Lessons; and the Professor himself happened to be
generally mistaken: This Artist is much encouraged and esteemed by the whole
Fraternity.
In another Apartment I was highly pleased with a Projector, who had found a
Device of plowing the Ground with Hogs, to save the Charges of Plows, Cattle, and
Labour. The Method in this: In an Acre of Ground you bury at six Inches Distance, and
eight deep, a Quantity of Acorns, Dates, Chestnuts, and other Maste or Vegetables
whereof these Animals are fondest; then you drive six Hundred or more of them into the
Field, where in a few Days they will root up the whole Ground in search of their Food,
and make it fit for sowing, at the same time manuring it with their Dung. It is true, upon
Experiment they found the Charge and Trouble very great, and they had little or no
Crop. However, it is not doubted that this Invention may be capable of great
Improvement.
I went into another Room, where the Walls and Ceiling were all hung round with
Cobwebs, except a narrow passage for the Artist to go in and out. At my Entrance he
called aloud to me not to disturb his Webs. He lamented the fatal Mistake the World had
been so long in of using Silk-Worms, while we had such plenty of domestick Insects,
who infinitely excelled the Former, because they understood how to weave as well as
spin. And he proposed farther, that by employing Spiders, the Charge of dying Silks
should be wholly saved; whereof I was fully convinced when he shewed me a vast
Number of Flies most beautifully coloured, wherewith he fed his Spiders; assuring us,
that the Webs would take a Tincture from them; and as he had them of all Hues, he
hoped to fit every Body's Fancy, as soon as he could find proper Food for the Flies, of
certain Gums, Oyls, and other glutinous Matter to give a Strength and Consistence to
the Threads.
There was an Astronomer who had undertaken to place a Sun-Dial upon the
great Weather-Cock on the Town-House, by adjusting the annual and diurnal Motions of
the Earth and Sun, so as to answer and coincide with all accidental Turnings of the
Wind.
I was complaining of a small fit of the Cholick; upon which my Conductor led me
into a Room, where a great Physician resided, who was famous for curing that Disease
by contrary Operations from the same Instrument. He had a large Pair of Bellows with a
long slender Muzzle of Ivory. This he conveyed eight Inches up the Anus, and drawing
in the Wind, he affirmed he could make the Guts as lank as a dried Bladder. But when
the Disease was more stubborn and violent, he let in the Muzzle while the Bellows were
full of Wind, which he discharged into the Body of the Patient, then withdrew the
Instrument to replenish it, clapping his Thumb strongly against the Orifice of the
Fundament; and this being repeated three or four Times, the adventitious Wind would
rush out, bringing the noxious along with it (like Water put into a Pump), and the Patient
recover. I saw him try both Experiments upon a Dog, but could not discern any Effect
from the former. After the latter, the Animal was ready to burst, and made so violent a
Discharge, as was very offensive to me and my Companions. The Dog died on the
Spot, and we left the Doctor endeavouring to recover him by the same Operation.
I visited many other Apartments, but shall not trouble my Reader with all the
Curiosities I observed, being studious of Brevity. (1998: 171-175)

3. Henry Fielding, The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews

and of His Friend Mr. Abraham Adams

Mr. Joseph Andrews was now in the one and twentieth Year of his Age. He was of
the highest Degree of middle Stature. His Limbs were put together with great Elegance
and no less Strength. His Legs and Thighs were formed in the exactest Proportion. His
Shoulders were broad and brawny, but yet his Arms hung so easily, that he had all the
Symptoms of Strength without the least clumsiness. His Hair was of a nut-brown Colour,
and was displayed in wanton Ringlets down his Back. His Forehead was high, his Eyes
dark, and as full of Sweetness as of Fire. His Nose a little inclined to the Roman. His
Teeth white and even. His Lips full red, and soft. His Beard was only rough on his Chin
and upper Lip; but his Cheeks, in which his Blood glowed, were overspread with a thick
Down. His Countenance had a Tenderness joined with a Sensibility inexpressible. Add to
this the most perfect Neatness in his Dress, and an Air, which to those who have not
seen many Noblemen, would give an Idea of Nobility.
Such was the Person who now appeared before the Lady. She viewed him some
time in Silence, and twice or thrice before she spake, changed her Mind as to the manner
in which she should begin. At length, she said to him, "Joseph, I am sorry to hear such
Complaints against you; I am told you behave so rudely to the Maids, that they cannot do
their Business in quiet; I mean those who are not wicked enough to hearken to your
Solicitations. As to others, they may not, perhaps call you rude: for there are wicked Sluts
who make one ashamed of one's own Sex; and are as ready to admit any nauseous
Familiarity as Fellows to offer it; nay, there are such in my Family: but they shall not stay
in it; that impudent Trollop, who is with Child by you, is discharged by this time."
As a Person who is struck through the Heart with a Thunderbolt, looks extremely
surprised, nay, and perhaps, is so too. —Thus the poor Joseph received the false
Accusation of his Mistress; he blushed and looked confounded, which she misinterpreted
to be Symptoms of his Guilt, and thus went on.
"Come hither, Joseph: another Mistress might discard you for these Offences; But
I have a Compassion for your Youth, if I could be certain you would be no more guilty.
And consider, Child, (laying her Hand carelessly upon his) you are a handsome young
Fellow, and might do better; you might make your Fortune—." "Madam," said Joseph, "I
do assure your Ladyship, I don't know whether any Maid in the House is Man or Woman
—". "Oh fie! Joseph," answer'd the Lady, "don't commit another Crime in denying the
Truth. I could pardon the first; but I hate a Lyar." "Madam," cries Joseph, "I hope your
Ladyship will not be offended at my asserting my Innocence: and by all that is Sacred, I
have never offered more than Kissing." "Kissing!" said the Lady, "do you call that no
Crime? Kissing, Joseph, is but a Prologue to a Play. Can I believe a young Fellow of your
Age and Complexion will be content with Kissing? No, Joseph, there is no Woman who
grants that but will grant more, and I am deceived greatly in you, if you would not put her
closely to it. What would you think, Joseph, if I admitted you to kiss me?" Joseph reply'd,
"He would sooner die than have any such Thought." "And yet, Joseph," returned she,
"Ladies have admitted their Footmen to such Familiarities; and Footmen, I confess to you,
much less deserving them; Fellows without half your Charms: for such might almost
excuse the Crime. Tell me, therefore, Joseph, if I should admit you to such Freedom,
what would you think of me?—tell me freely." "Madam," said Joseph, "I should think your
Ladyship condescended a great deal below yourself." "Pugh!" said she, "that I am to
answer to myself: but would not you insist on more? Would you be contented with a Kiss?
Would not your Inclinations be all on fire rather by such a Favour?" "Madam," said
Joseph, "if they were, I hope I should be able to control them, without suffering them to
get the better of my Virtue." —You have heard, Reader, Poets talk of the Statue of
Surprize; you have heard likewise, or else you have heard very little, how Surprize made
one of the Sons of Cræsus speak tho' he was dumb. You have seen the Faces, in the
Eighteen-penny Gallery, when through the Trap-Door, to soft or no Musick, Mr.
Bridgewater, Mr. William Mills, or some other of ghostly Appearance, hath ascended with
a Face all pale with Powder, and a Shirt all bloody with Ribbons; but from none of these,
nor from Phidias, or Praxiteles, if they should return to Life—no, not from the inimitable
Pencil of my Friend Hogarth, could you receive such an Idea of Surprize, as would have
entered in at your Eyes, had they beheld the Lady Booby, when those last Words issued
out from the Lips of Joseph. —"Your Virtue! (said the Lady recovering after a Silence of
two Minutes) I shall never survive it. Your Virtue! Intolerable Confidence! Have you the
Assurance to pretend, that when a Lady demeans herself to throw aside the Rules of
Decency, in order to honour you with the highest Favour in her Power, your Virtue should
resist her Inclination? That when she had conquer'd her own Virtue, she should find an
Obstruction in yours?" "Madam," said Joseph "I can't see why her having no Virtue should
be a Reason against my having any. Or why, because I am a Man, or because I am poor,
my Virtue must be subservient to her Pleasures." "I am out of patience," cries the Lady:
"Did ever Mortal hear of a Man's Virtue! Did ever the greatest, or the gravest Men pretend
to any of this Kind! Will Magistrates who punish Lewdness, or Parsons, who preach
against it, make any scruple of committing it? And can a Boy, a Stripling, have the
Confidence to talk of his Virtue?" "Madam," says Joseph, "that Boy is the Brother of
Pamela, and would be ashamed, that the Chastity of his Family, which is preserved in
her, should be stained in him. If there are such Men as your Ladyship mentions, I am
sorry for it, and I wish they had an Opportunity of reading over those Letters, which my
Father hath sent me of my Sister Pamela's, nor do I doubt but such an Example would
amend them." You impudent Villain, cries the Lady in a Rage, "Do you insult me with the
Follies of my Relation, who hath exposed himself all over the Country upon your Sister's
account? a little Vixen, whom I have always wondered my late Lady John Booby ever
kept in her House. Sirrah! get out of my sight, and prepare to set out this Night, for I will
order you your Wages immediately, and you shall be stripped and turned away.—"
"Madam," says Joseph, "I am sorry I have offended your Ladyship, I am sure I never
intended it." "Yes, Sirrah," cries she, "you have had the Vanity to misconstrue the little
innocent Freedom I took in order to try, whether what I had heard was true. O' my
Conscience, you have had the Assurance to imagine, I was fond of you myself." Joseph
was going to speak, when she refused to hear him, and ordered him instantly to leave the
Room.
He was no sooner gone, than she burst forth into the following Exclamation:
"Whither doth this violent Passion hurry us? What Meannesses do we submit to from its
Impulse? Wisely we resist its first and least Approaches; for it is then only we can assure
ourselves the Victory. No Woman could ever safely say, so far only will I go. Have I not
exposed myself to the Refusal of my Footman? I cannot bear the Reflection." Upon which
she applied herself to the Bell, and rung it with infinite more Violence than was necessary;
the faithful Slipslop attending near at hand: To say the truth, she had conceived a
Suspicion at her last Interview with her Mistress; and had waited ever since in the
Antichamber, having carefully applied her Ears to the Key-Hole during the whole time,
that the preceeding Conversation passed between Joseph and the Lady. (1973: 18-21)

4. Henry Fielding, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

 Western had an estate in this parish; and as his house stood at little greater
distance from this church than from his ow Mr. n, he very often came to Divine Service
here; and both he and the charming Sophia happened to be present at this time.
Sophia was much pleased with the beauty of the girl, whom she pitied for her
simplicity in having dressed herself in that manner, as she saw the envy which it had
occasioned among her equals. She no sooner came home than she sent for the
gamekeeper, and ordered him to bring his daughter to her; saying she would provide for
her in the family, and might possibly place the girl about her own person, when her own
maid, who was now going away, had left her.
Poor Seagrim was thunderstruck at this; for he was no stranger to the fault in the
shape of his daughter. He answered, in a stammering voice, "That he was afraid Molly
would be too awkward to wait on her ladyship, as she had never been at service." "No
matter for that," says Sophia; "she will soon improve. I am pleased with the girl, and am
resolved to try her."
Black George now repaired to his wife, on whose prudent counsel he depended
to extricate him out of this dilemma; but when he came thither he found his house in
some confusion. So great envy had this sack occasioned, that when Mr. Allworthy and
the other gentry were gone from church, the rage, which had hitherto been confined,
burst into an uproar; and, having vented itself at first in opprobrious words, laughs,
hisses, and gestures, betook itself at last to certain missile weapons; which, though
from their plastic nature they threatened neither the loss of life or of limb, were however
sufficiently dreadful to a well-dressed lady. Molly had too much spirit to bear this
treatment tamely. Having therefore- but hold, as we are diffident of our own abilities, let
us here invite a superior power to our assistance.
Ye Muses, then, whoever ye are, who love to sing battles, and principally thou
who whilom didst recount the slaughter in those fields where Hudibras and Trulla
fought, if thou wert not starved with thy friend Butler, assist me on this great occasion.
All things are not in the power of all.
As a vast herd of cows in a rich farmer's yard, if, while they are milked, they hear
their calves at a distance, lamenting the robbery which is then committing, roar and
bellow; so roared forth the Somersetshire mob an hallaloo, made up of almost as many
squalls, screams, and other different sounds as there were persons, or indeed passions
among them: some were inspired by rage, others alarmed by fear, and others had
nothing in their heads but the love of fun; but chiefly Envy, the sister of Satan, and his
constant companion, rushed among the crowd, and blew up the fury of the women; who
no sooner came up to Molly than they pelted her with dirt and rubbish.
Molly, having endeavoured in vain to make a handsome retreat, faced about; and
laying hold of ragged Bess, who advanced in the front of the enemy, she at one blow
felled her to the ground. The whole army of the enemy (though near a hundred in
number), seeing the fate of their general, gave back many paces, and retired behind a
new-dug grave; for the churchyard was the field of battle, where there was to be a
funeral that very evening. Molly pursued her victory, and catching up a skull which lay
on the side of the grave, discharged it with such fury, that having hit a taylor on the
head, the two skulls sent equally forth a hollow sound at their meeting, and the taylor
took presently measure of his length on the ground, where the skulls lay side by side,
and it was doubtful which was the more valuable of the two. Molly then taking a thigh-
bone in her hand, fell in among the flying ranks, and dealing her blows with great
liberality on either side, overthrew the carcass of many a mighty heroe and heroine.
Recount, O Muse, the names of those who fell on this fatal day. First, Jemmy
Tweedle felt on his hinder head the direful bone. Him the pleasant banks of sweetly-
winding Stour had nourished, where he first learnt the vocal art, with which, wandering
up and down at wakes and fairs, he cheered the rural nymphs and swains, when upon
the green they interweaved the sprightly dance; while he himself stood fiddling and
jumping to his own music. How little now avails his fiddle! He thumps the verdant floor
with his carcass. Next, old Echepole, the sowgelder, received a blow in his forehead
from our Amazonian heroine, and immediately fell to the ground. He was a swinging fat
fellow, and fell with almost as much noise as a house. His tobacco-box dropped at the
same time from his pocket, which Molly took up as lawful spoils. Then Kate of the Mill
tumbled unfortunately over a tombstone, which catching hold of her ungartered stocking
inverted the order of nature, and gave her heels the superiority to her head. Betty
Pippin, with young Roger her lover, fell both to the ground; where, oh perverse fate! she
salutes the earth, and he the sky. Tom Freckle, the smith's son, was the next victim to
her rage. He was an ingenious workman, and made excellent pattens; nay, the very
patten with which he was knocked down was his own workmanship. Had he been at
that time singing psalms in the church, he would have avoided a broken head. Miss
Crow, the daughter of a farmer; John Giddish, himself a farmer; Nan Slouch, Esther
Codling, Will Spray, Tom Bennet; the three Misses Potter, whose father keeps the sign
of the Red Lion; Betty Chambermaid, Jack Ostler, and many others of inferior note, lay
rolling among the graves. (1985: 140-142)

5. Tobias George Smollett, The Adventures of Roderick Random

While I and my fellow-prisoner comforted each other in our tribulation, the admiral
discovered four sail of ships to leeward, and made signal for our ship and four more to
chase: hereupon, every thing was cleared for an engagement, and Mackshane
foreseeing he would have occasion for more assistants than one, obtained Morgan's
liberty; while I was left in this deplorable posture to the chance of battle. It was almost
dark when we came up with the sternmost chase, which we hailed, and enquired who
they were: they gave us to understand they were French men of war, upon which captain
Oakhum commanded them to send their boat on board of him; but they refused, telling
him, if he had any business with them, to come on board of their ship: he then threatened
to pour in a broad-side upon them, which they promised to return. Both sides were as
good as their word, and the engagement began with great fury. The reader may guess
how I passed my time, lying in this helpless situation, amidst the terrors of a sea-fight;
expecting every moment to be cut asunder or dashed in pieces by the enemy's shot! I
endeavoured to compose myself as much as possible, by reflecting that I was not a whit
more exposed than those who were stationed about me; but when I beheld them
employed without intermission, in annoying the foe, and encouraged by the society and
behaviour of one another, I could easily perceive a wide difference between their
condition and mine: however, I concealed my agitation as well as I could, till the head of
the officer of Marines, who stood near me, being shot off, bounced from the deck athwart
my face, leaving me well-night blinded with brains. I could contain myself no longer, but
began to bellow with all the strength of my lungs: when a drummer coming towards me,
asked if I was wounded? and before I could answer, received a great shot in his belly
which tore out his entrails, and he fell flat on my breast. This accident entirely bereft me of
all discretion: I redoubled my cries, which were drowned in the noise of the battle; and
finding myself disregarded, lost all patience and became frantic: I vented my rage in oaths
and execrations, till my spirits being quite exhausted, I remained quiet and insensible of
the load that oppressed me. The engagement lasted till broad day, when captain
Oakhum, finding he was like to gain neither honour nor advantage by the affair,
pretended to be undeceived by seeing their colours; and hailing the ship with whom he
had fought all night, protested he believed them Spaniards, and the guns being silenced
on each side, ordered the barge to be hoisted out, and went on board of the French
commodore. Our loss amounted to ten killed and eighteen wounded, most part of whom
afterwards died. My fellow-mates had no sooner dispatched their business in the cockpit,
than full of friendly concern, they came to visit me. Morgan ascending first, and seeing my
face almost covered with brains and blood, concluded I was no longer a man for this
world; and calling to Thomson with great emotion, bid him come up and take his last
farewell of his comrade and countryman, who was posting to a better place, where there
were no Mackshanes nor Oakhums to asperse and torment him. "No,” said he, taking me
by the hand, “you are going to a country where there is more respect shown to
unfortunate shentlemen, and where you will have the satisfaction of peholding your
adversaries tossing upon pillows of purning primstone." Thomson alarmed at this
apostrophe, made haste to the place where I lay, and sitting down by me, with tears in his
eyes, enquired into the nature of my calamity. By this time I had recollected myself so far
as to be able to converse rationally with my friends, whom, to their great satisfaction, I
immediately undeceived with regard to their apprehension of my being mortally wounded.
After I had got myself disengaged from the carnage in which I wallowed, and partaken of
a refreshment which my friends brought along with them, we entered into discourse upon
the hardships we sustained, and spoke very freely of the authors of our misery: but our
discourse being overheard by the sentinel who guarded me, he was no sooner relieved,
than he reported to the captain every syllable of our conversation, according to the orders
he had received. The effect of this information soon appeared in the arrival of the master
at arms, who replaced Morgan in his former station; and gave the second mate a caution
to keep a strict guard over his tongue, if he did not choose to accompany us in our
confinement. (169-171)

6. Tobias George Smollett, The Adventures of Ferdinand Count

Fathom

Fathom, whose own principles taught him to be suspicious, and ever upon his
guard against the treachery of his fellow-creatures, could have dispensed with this
instance of her care, in confining her guest to her chamber, and began to be seized with
strange fancies, when he observed that there was no bolt on the inside of the door, by
which he might secure himself from intrusion. In consequence of these suggestions, he
proposed to take an accurate survey of every object in the apartment, and, in the course
of his inquiry, had the mortification to find the dead body of a man, still warm, who had
been lately stabbed, and concealed beneath several bundles of straw.
Such a discovery could not fail to fill the breast of our hero with unspeakable
horror; for he concluded that he himself would undergo the same fate before morning,
without the interposition of a miracle in his favour. In the first transports of his dread, he
ran to the window, with a view to escape by that outlet, and found his flight effectually
obstructed by divers strong bars of iron. Then his heart began to palpitate, his hair to
bristle up, and his knees to totter; his thoughts teemed with presages of death and
destruction; his conscience rose up in judgment against him, and he underwent a
severe paroxysm of dismay and distraction. His spirits were agitated into a state of
fermentation that produced a species of resolution akin to that which is inspired by
brandy or other strong liquors, and, by an impulse that seemed supernatural, he was
immediately hurried into measures for his own preservation.
What upon a less interesting occasion his imagination durst not propose, he now
executed without scruple or remorse. He undressed the corpse that lay bleeding among
the straw, and, conveying it to the bed in his arms, deposited it in the attitude of a
person who sleeps at his ease; then he extinguished the light, took possession of the
place from whence the body had been removed, and, holding a pistol ready cocked in
each hand, waited for the sequel with that determined purpose which is often the
immediate production of despair. About midnight he heard the sound of feet ascending
the ladder; the door was softly opened; he saw the shadow of two men stalking towards
the bed, a dark lanthorn being unshrouded, directed their aim to the supposed sleeper,
and he that held it thrust a poniard to his heart; the force of the blow made a
compression on the chest, and a sort of groan issued from the windpipe of the defunct;
the stroke was repeated, without producing a repetition of the note, so that the
assassins concluded the work was effectually done, and retired for the present with a
design to return and rifle the deceased at their leisure.
Never had our hero spent a moment in such agony as he felt during this operation;
the whole surface of his body was covered with a cold sweat, and his nerves were
relaxed with an universal palsy. In short, he remained in a trance that, in all probability,
contributed to his safety; for, had he retained the use of his senses, he might have been
discovered by the transports of his fear. The first use he made of his retrieved
recollection, was to perceive that the assassins had left the door open in their retreat; and
he would have instantly availed himself of this their neglect, by sallying out upon them, at
the hazard of his life, had he not been restrained by a conversation he overheard in the
room below, importing, that the ruffians were going to set out upon another expedition, in
hopes of finding more prey. They accordingly departed, after having laid strong
injunctions upon the old woman to keep the door fast locked during their absence; and
Ferdinand took his resolution without farther delay. So soon as, by his conjecture, the
robbers were at a sufficient distance from the house, he rose from his lurking-place,
moved softly towards the bed, and, rummaging the pockets of the deceased, found a
purse well stored with ducats, of which, together with a silver watch and a diamond ring,
he immediately possessed himself without scruple; then, descending with great care and
circumspection into the lower apartment, stood before the old beldame, before she had
the least intimation of his approach.
 Accustomed as she was to the trade of blood, the hoary hag did not behold this
apparition without giving signs of infinite terror and astonishment, believing it was no
other than the spirit of her second guest, who had been murdered; she fell upon her
knees and began to recommend herself to the protection of the saints, crossing herself
with as much devotion as if she had been entitled to the particular care and attention of
Heaven. Nor did her anxiety abate, when she was undeceived in this her supposition,
and understood it was no phantom, but the real substance of the stranger, who, without
staying to upbraid her with the enormity of her crimes, commanded her, on pain of
immediate death, to produce his horse, to which being conducted, he set her upon the
saddle without delay, and, mounting behind, invested her with the management of the
reins, swearing, in a most peremptory tone, that the only chance she had for her life,
was in directing him safely to the next town; and that, so soon as she should give him
the least cause to doubt her fidelity in the performance of that task, he would on the
instant act the part of her executioner.
This declaration had its effect upon the withered Hecate, who, with many
supplications for mercy and forgiveness, promised to guide him in safety to a certain
village at the distance of two leagues, where he might lodge in security, and be provided
with a fresh horse, or other convenience, for pursuing his intended route. On these
conditions he told her she might deserve his clemency; and they accordingly took their
departure together, she being placed astride upon the saddle, holding the bridle in one
hand and a switch in the other; and our adventurer sitting on the crupper, superintending
her conduct, and keeping the muzzle of a pistol close at her ear. In this equipage they
travelled across part of the same wood in which his guide had forsaken him; and it is not
to be supposed that he passed his time in the most agreeable reverie, while he found
himself involved in the labyrinth of those shades, which he considered as the haunts of
robbery and assassination.
Common fear was a comfortable sensation to what he felt in this excursion. The
first steps he had taken for his preservation were the effects of mere instinct, while his
faculties were extinguished or suppressed by despair; but now, as his reflection began
to recur, he was haunted by the most intolerable apprehensions. Every whisper of the
wind through the thickets was swelled into the hoarse menaces of murder, the shaking
of the boughs was construed into the brandishing of poniards, and every shadow of a
tree became the apparition of a ruffian eager for blood. In short, at each of these
occurrences he felt what was infinitely more tormenting than the stab of a real dagger;
and at every fresh fillip of his fear, he acted as a remembrancer to his conductress, in a
new volley of imprecations, importing, that her life was absolutely connected with his
opinion of his own safety.
Human nature could not longer subsist under such complicated terror. At last he
found himself clear of the forest, and was blessed with the distant view of an inhabited
place. He then began to exercise his thoughts upon a new subject. He debated with
himself, whether he should make a parade of his intrepidity and public spirit, by disclosing
his achievement, and surrendering his guide to the penalty of the law; or leave the old
hag and her accomplices to the remorse of their own consciences, and proceed quietly
on his journey to Paris in undisturbed possession of the prize he had already obtained.
This last step he determined to take, upon recollecting, that, in the course of his
information, the story of the murdered stranger would infallibly attract the attention of
justice, and, in that case, the effects he had borrowed from the defunct must be refunded
for the benefit of those who had a right to the succession. This was an argument which
our adventurer could not resist; he foresaw that he should be stripped of his acquisition,
which he looked upon as the fair fruits of his valour and sagacity; and, moreover, be
detained as an evidence against the robbers, to the manifest detriment of his affairs.
Perhaps too he had motives of conscience, that dissuaded him from bearing witness
against a set of people whose principles did not much differ from his own. (1990-133-136)
7. Tobias George Smollett, The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

To Dr LEWIS.
DOCTOR,
The pills are good for nothing — I might as well swallow snowballs to cool my reins
— I have told you over and over how hard I am to move; and at this time of day, I ought to
know something of my own constitution. Why will you be so positive? Prithee send me
another prescription — I am as lame and as much tortured in all my limbs as if I was
broke upon the wheel: indeed, I am equally distressed in mind and body — As if I had not
plagues enough of my own, those children of my sister are left me for a perpetual source
of vexation — what business have people to get children to plague their neighbours? A
ridiculous incident that happened yesterday to my niece Liddy, has disordered me in such
a manner, that I expect to be laid up with another fit of the gout — perhaps, I may explain
myself in my next. I shall set out tomorrow morning for the Hot Well at Bristol, where I am
afraid I shall stay longer than I could wish. On the receipt of this send Williams thither with
my saddle-horse and the demi pique. Tell Barns to thresh out the two old ricks, and send
the corn to market, and sell it off to the poor at a shilling a bushel under market price. — I
have received a sniveling letter from Griffin, offering to make a public submission and pay
costs. I want none of his submissions, neither will I pocket any of his money. The fellow is
a bad neighbour, and I desire, to have nothing to do with him: but as he is purse-proud,
he shall pay for his insolence: let him give five pounds to the poor of the parish, and I will
withdraw my action; and in the mean time you may tell Prig to stop proceedings. — Let
Morgan's widow have the Alderney cow, and forty shillings to clothe her children: but don't
say a syllable of the matter to any living soul — I'll make her pay when she is able. I
desire you will lock up all my drawers, and keep the keys till meeting; and be sure you
take the iron chest with my papers into your own custody — Forgive all, this trouble from,
Dear Lewis,
Your affectionate
M. BRAMBLE
GLOUCESTER, April 2.

To Mrs GWYLLIM, house-keeper at Brambleton-hall.

MRS GWILLIM,
When this cums to hand, be sure to pack up in the trunk male that stands in my
closet; to be sent me in the Bristol waggon without loss of time, the following articles, viz.
my rose collard neglejay with green robins, my yellow damask, and my black velvets with
the short hoop; my bloo quilted petticot, my green mantel, my laced apron, my French
commode, Macklin head and lappets and the litel box with my jowls. Williams may bring
over my bum-daffee, and the viol with the easings of Dr Hill's dockwater and Chowder's
lacksitif. The poor creature has been terribly stuprated ever since we left huom. Pray take
particular care of the house while the family is absent. Let there be a fire constantly kept in
my brother's chamber and mine. The maids, having nothing to do, may be sat a spinning. I
desire you'll clap a pad-luck on the wind-seller, and let none of the men have excess to the
strong bear — don't forget to have the gate shit every evening be dark — The gardnir and
the hind may lie below in the landry, to partake the house, with the blunderbuss and the
great dog; and hope you'll have a watchful eye over the maids. I know that hussy Mary
Jones, loves to be rumping with the men. Let me know Alderney's calf be sould yet, and
what he fought — if the ould goose be sitting; and if the cobler has cut Dicky, and how pore
anemil bore the operation. No more at present, but rests,
Yours,
TABITHA BRAMBLE
GLOSTAR, April 2.

TO Mrs MARY JONES, at Brambleton-hall.

DEAR MOLLY,
Heaving this importunity, I send, my love to you and Saul, being in good health,
and hoping to hear the same from you; and that you and Saul will take my poor kitten to
bed with you this cold weather. We have been all in, a sad taking here at Glostar — Miss
Liddy had like to have run away with a player-man, and young master and he would
adone themselves a mischief; but the, squire applied to the mare, and they were, bound
over. — Mistress bid me not speak a word of the matter to any Christian soul — no more I
shall; for, we servints should see all and say nothing — But what was worse than all this,
Chowder has, had the, misfortune to be worried by a butcher's dog, and came home in a
terrible pickle — Mistress was taken with the asterisks, but they soon went off. The doctor
was sent for to Chowder, and he subscribed a repository which did him great service —
thank God he's now in a fair way to do well — pray take care of my box and the pillyber
and put them under your own bed; for, I do suppose madam, Gwyllim will be a prying into
my secrets, now my back is turned. John Thomas is in good health, but sulky. The squire
gave away an ould coat to a poor man; and John says as, how 'tis robbing him of his
perquisites. — I told him, by his agreement he was to receive no vails; but he says as
how there's a difference betwixt vails and perquisites; and so there is for sartain. We are
all going to the Hot Well, where I shall drink your health in a glass of water, being,
Dear Molly,
Your humble servant to command,
W. JENKINS
GLOSTAR, April 2nd.

To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. of Jesus college, Oxon.

DEAR PHILLIPS,
As I have nothing more at heart than to convince you I am incapable of forgetting,
or neglecting the friendship I made at college, now begin that correspondence by letters,
which you and I agreed, at parting, to cultivate. I begin it sooner than I intended, that you
may have it in your power to refute any idle reports which may be circulated to my
prejudice at Oxford, touching a foolish quarrel, in which I have been involved on account
of my sister, who had been some time settled here in a boarding-school. When I came
hither with my uncle and aunt (who are our guardians) to fetch her away, I found her a
fine tall girl, of seventeen, with an agreeable person; but remarkably simple, and quite
ignorant of the world. This disposition, and want of experience, had exposed her to the
addresses of a person — I know not what to call him, who had seen her at a play; and,
with a confidence and dexterity peculiar to himself, found means to be recommended to
her acquaintance. It was by the greatest accident I intercepted one of his letters; as it was
my duty to stifle this correspondence in its birth, I made it my business to find him out,
and tell him very freely my sentiments of the matter. The spark did not like the stile I used,
and behaved with abundance of mettle. Though his rank in life (which, by the bye, I am
ashamed to declare) did not entitle him to much deference; yet as his behaviour was
remarkably spirited, I admitted him to the privilege of a gentleman, and something might
have happened, had not we been prevented. — In short, the business took air, I know not
how, and made abundance of noise — recourse was had to justice — I was obliged to
give my word and honour, &c. and to-morrow morning we set out for Bristol Wells, where
I expect to hear from you by the return of the post. — I have got into a family of originals,
whom I may one day attempt to describe for your amusement. My aunt, Mrs Tabitha
Bramble, is a maiden of forty-five, exceedingly starched, vain, and ridiculous. — My uncle
is an odd kind of humorist, always on the fret, and so unpleasant in his manner, that
rather than be obliged to keep him company, I'd resign all claim to the inheritance of his
estate. Indeed his being tortured by the gout may have soured his temper, and, perhaps, I
may like him better on further acquaintance; certain it is, all his servants and neighbours
in the country are fond of him, even to a degree of enthusiasm, the reason of which I
cannot as yet comprehend. Remember me to Griffy Price, Gwyn, Mansel, Basset, and all
the rest of my old Cambrian companions. — Salute the bedmaker in my name — give my
service to the cook, and pray take care of poor Ponto, for the sake of his old master, who
is, and ever will be,
Dear Phillips,
Your affectionate friend,
and humble servant,
JER. MELFORD
GLOUCESTER, April 2. (1995: 1-4)

8. Samuel Richardson, Clarissa: or, the History of a Young Lady

Miss Clarissa Harlowe to Miss Howe

February 25.
I have had the expected conference with my aunt.
I have been obliged to hear the man's [Mr. Solmes’s] proposals from her; and all
their motives for espousing him as they do. I am even loth to mention, how equally
unjust it is for him to make such offers, or for those I am bound to reverence to accept of
them. I hate him more than before. One great estate is already obtained at the expense
of the relations to it, tho' distant relations; my brother's, I mean, by his godmother: And
this has given the hope, however chimerical that hope, of procuring others; and that my
own, at least, may revert to the family: And yet, in my opinion, the world is but one great
family: originally it was so: What then is this narrow selfishness that reigns in us, but
relationship remembered against relationship forgot?
But here, upon my absolute refusal of him upon any terms, have I had a
signification made me, that wounds me to the heart. How can I tell it you? Yet I must. It
is, my dear, that I must not, for a month to come, or till license obtained, correspond
with any -body out of the house.
My brother, upon my aunt's report (made, however, as I am informed, in the
gentlest manner, and even giving remote hopes, which she had no commission from me
to give), brought me, in authoritative terms, the prohibition.
 Not to Miss Howe? said I.
No, not to Miss Howe, Madam, tauntingly: For have you not acknowledged, that
Lovelace is a favourite there?
See, my dear Miss Howe!
And do you think, brother, this is the way?
Do you look to that: But your letters will be stopped, I can tell you. And away he
flung.
My sister came to me soon after. Sister Clary, you are going on in a fine way, I
understand. But as there are people who are supposed to harden you against your duty,
I am to tell you, that it will be taken well, if you avoid visits or visitings for a week or two,
till further order.
Can this be from those who have authority—
Ask them; ask them, child, with a twirl of her finger. I have delivered my
message. Your papa will be obeyed. He is willing to hope you to be all obedience; and
would prevent all incitements to refractoriness.
I know my duty, said I, and hope I shall not find impossible conditions annexed to
it.
A pert young creature, vain and conceited, she called me. I was the only judge, in
my own wise-opinion, of what was right and fit. She, for her part, had long seen through
my specious ways: And now I should show everybody what I was at bottom.
Dear Bella, said I! hands and eyes lifted up, why all this? Dear, dear Bella, why—
None of your dear, dear Bella's to me. I tell you, I see thro' your witchcrafts. That
was her strange word: And away she flung; adding, as she went,— And so will
everybody else very quickly, I dare say.
Bless me, said I to myself, what a sister have I! How have I deserved this? Then I
again regretted my grandfather's too distinguishing goodness to me.
Feb. 25. In the evening.
What my brother and sister have said against me, I cannot tell; but I am in heavy
disgrace with my papa.
I was sent for down to tea. I went with a very cheerful aspect; but had occasion
soon to change it.
Such a solemnity in every-body's countenance! My mamma's eyes were fixed
upon the tea-cups; and when she looked up, it was heavily, as if her eyelids had
weights upon them; and then not to me. My papa sat half-aside in his elbow-chair, that
his head might be turned from me; his hands folded, and waving, as it were, up and
down; his fingers, poor dear gentleman! in motion, as if angry to the very ends of them.
My sister sat swelling. My brother looked at me with scorn, having measured me, as I
may say, with his eyes, as I entered, from head to foot. My aunt was there, and looked
upon me, as if with kindness restrained, bending coldly to my compliment to her, as she
sat; and then cast an eye first on my brother, then on my sister, as if to give the reason
(so I am willing to construe it) of her unusual stiffness. —Bless me, my dear! that they
should choose to intimidate rather than invite a mind, till now, not thought either
unpersuadable or ungenerous!—
I took my seat. Shall I make tea, Madam, to my mamma? I always used, you
know, my dear, to make tea.
 No! a very short sentence, in one very short word was the expressive answer:
And she was pleased to take the canister in her own hand.
My sister's Betty attending, my brother bid her go; he would fill the water.
My heart was up at my mouth. I did not know what to do with myself. What is to
follow? thought I
Just after the second dish, out stepped my mamma. — A word with you, sister
Hervey! taking her in her hand. Presently my sister dropped away. Then my brother. So
I was left alone with my papa.
He looked so very sternly, that my heart failed me, as twice or thrice I would have
addressed myself to him: Nothing but solemn silence on all hands having passed
before.
At last, I asked, If it were his pleasure, that I should pour him out another dish?
He answered me with the same angry monosyllable which I had received from
my mamma before; and then arose, and walked about the room. I arose too, with intent
to throw myself at his feet; but was too much over-awed by his sternness, even to make
such an expression of my duty to him, as my heart overflowed with.
At last, as he supported himself, because of his gout, on the back of a chair, I
took a little more courage; and approaching him, besought him to acquaint me, in what I
had offended him?
He turned from me, and, in a strong voice, Clarissa Harlowe, said he, know, that I
will be obeyed.
God forbid, Sir, that you should not! I have never yet opposed your will—
Nor I your whimsies, Clarissa Harlowe, interrupted he. Don't let me run the fate of
all who show indulgence to your sex; to be the more contradicted for mine to you.
My papa, you know, my dear, has not (any more than my brother) a kind opinion
of our sex; altho' there is not a more condescending wife in the world than my mamma.
I was going to make protestations of duty. —No protestations, girl! No words. I
will not be prated to! I will be obeyed! I have no child. I will have no child, but an
obedient one.
Sir, you never had reason, I hope—
Tell me not what I never had, but what I have, and what I shall have.
Good Sir, be pleased to hear me. My brother and my sister, I fear—
Your brother and sister shall not be spoken against, girl! They have a just
concern for the honour of my family.
And I hope, Sir,—
Hope nothing. Tell me not of hopes, but of facts. I ask nothing of you but what is
in your power to comply with, and what it is your duty to comply with.
Then, Sir, I will comply with it. But yet I hope from your goodness,—
No expostulations! No buts, girl! No qualifyings! I will be obeyed, I tell you; and
cheerfully too!—or you are no child of mine!
I wept.
Let me beseech you, my dear and ever honoured papa (and I dropt down on my
knees) that I may have only your's and my mamma's will, and not my brother's, to obey.
—I was going on; but he was pleased to withdraw, leaving me on the floor; saying, that
he would not hear me thus by subtlety and cunning aiming to distinguish away my duty,
repeating, that he would be obeyed.
 My heart is too full; so full, that it may endanger my duty, were I to unburden it to
you on this occasion: So I will lay down my pen. But can— Yet, positively, I will lay down
my pen! — (2004: 63-65)

9. Laurence Sterne, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy,

Gentleman

Volume V, Chapter VII (1997: 297-299)

--My young master in London is dead? said Obadiah.--
--A green sattin night-gown of my mother's, which had been twice scoured, was
the first idea which Obadiah's exclamation brought into Susannah's head.--Well might
Locke write a chapter upon the imperfections of words.-- Then, quoth Susannah, we
must all go into mourning.--But note a second time: the word mourning, notwithstanding
Susannah made use of it herself-- failed also of doing its office; it excited not one single
idea, tinged either with grey or black,--all was green.--The green sattin night-gown hung
there still.
--O! 'twill be the death of my poor mistress, cried Susannah.--My mother's whole
wardrobe followed.--What a procession! her red damask,--her orange tawny,--her white
and yellow lutestrings,--her brown taffata,--her bone- laced caps, her bed-gowns, and
comfortable under-petticoats.--Not a rag was left behind.--'No,--she will never look up
again,' said Susannah.
We had a fat, foolish scullion--my father, I think, kept her for her simplicity;--she
had been all autumn struggling with a dropsy.--He is dead, said Obadiah,--he is
certainly dead!--So am not I, said the foolish scullion.
--Here is sad news, Trim, cried Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim stepp'd into
the kitchen,--master Bobby is dead and buried--the funeral was an interpolation of
Susannah's--we shall have all to go into mourning, said Susannah.
I hope not, said Trim.--You hope not! cried Susannah earnestly.—The mourning
ran not in Trim's head, whatever it did in Susannah's.--I hope-- said Trim, explaining
himself, I hope in God the news is not true. I heard the letter read with my own ears,
answered Obadiah; and we shall have a terrible piece of work of it in stubbing the ox-
moor.--Oh! he's dead, said Susannah.--As sure, said the scullion, as I'm alive.
I lament for him from my heart and my soul, said Trim, fetching a sigh.-- Poor
creature!--poor boy!--poor gentleman!
--He was alive last Whitsontide! said the coachman.--Whitsontide! alas! cried
Trim, extending his right arm, and falling instantly into the same attitude in which he
read the sermon,--what is Whitsontide, Jonathan (for that was the coachman's name),
or Shrovetide, or any tide or time past, to this? Are we not here now, continued the
corporal (striking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an
idea of health and stability)--and are we not--(dropping his hat upon the ground) gone!
in a moment!--'Twas infinitely striking! Susannah burst into a flood of tears.--We are not
stocks and stones.--Jonathan, Obadiah, the cook-maid, all melted.--The foolish fat
scullion herself, who was scouring a fish-kettle upon her knees, was rous'd with it.--The
whole kitchen crowded about the corporal.
Now, as I perceive plainly, that the preservation of our constitution in church and
state,--and possibly the preservation of the whole world—or what is the same thing, the
distribution and balance of its property and power, may in time to come depend greatly
upon the right understanding of this stroke of the corporal's eloquence--I do demand
your attention—your worships and reverences, for any ten pages together, take them
where you will in any other part of the work, shall sleep for it at your ease.
I said, 'we were not stocks and stones'--'tis very well. I should have added, nor
are we angels, I wish we were,--but men clothed with bodies, and governed by our
imaginations;--and what a junketing piece of work of it there is, betwixt these and our
seven senses, especially some of them, for my own part, I own it, I am ashamed to
confess. Let it suffice to affirm, that of all the senses, the eye (for I absolutely deny the
touch, though most of your Barbati, I know, are for it) has the quickest commerce with
the soul,--gives a smarter stroke, and leaves something more inexpressible upon the
fancy, than words can either convey--or sometimes get rid of.
--I've gone a little about--no matter, 'tis for health--let us only carry it back in our
mind to the mortality of Trim's hat--'Are we not here now,-- and gone in a moment?'--
There was nothing in the sentence--'twas one of your self-evident truths we have the
advantage of hearing every day; and if Trim had not trusted more to his hat than his
head--he made nothing at all of it.
--'Are we not here now;' continued the corporal, 'and are we not'-- (dropping his
hat plumb upon the ground--and pausing, before he pronounced the word)--'gone! in a
moment?' The descent of the hat was as if a heavy lump of clay had been kneaded into
the crown of it.--Nothing could have expressed the sentiment of mortality, of which it
was the type and fore- runner, like it,--his hand seemed to vanish from under it,--it fell
dead,-- the corporal's eye fixed upon it, as upon a corpse,--and Susannah burst into a
flood of tears.
Now--Ten thousand, and ten thousand times ten thousand (for matter and motion
are infinite) are the ways by which a hat may be dropped upon the ground, without any
effect.--Had he flung it, or thrown it, or cast it, or skimmed it, or squirted it, or let it slip or
fall in any possible direction under heaven,--or in the best direction that could be given
to it,--had he dropped it like a goose--like a puppy--like an ass--or in doing it, or even
after he had done, had he looked like a fool--like a ninny--like a nincompoop--it had
fail'd, and the effect upon the heart had been lost.
Ye who govern this mighty world and its mighty concerns with the engines of
eloquence,--who heat it, and cool it, and melt it, and mollify it,--and then harden it again
to your purpose--
Ye who wind and turn the passions with this great windlass, and, having done it,
lead the owners of them, whither ye think meet.
Ye, lastly, who drive--and why not, Ye also who are driven, like turkeys to market
with a stick and a red clout--meditate--meditate, I beseech you, upon Trim's hat.

Volume V, Chapter VIII (1997: 299-300)

Stay--I have a small account to settle with the reader before Trim can go on with his
harangue.--It shall be done in two minutes.
Amongst many other book-debts, all of which I shall discharge in due time,--I own
myself a debtor to the world for two items,--a chapter upon chamber- maids and button-
holes, which, in the former part of my work, I promised and fully intended to pay off this
year: but some of your worships and reverences telling me, that the two subjects,
especially so connected together, might endanger the morals of the world,--I pray the
chapter upon chamber-maids and button-holes may be forgiven me,--and that they will
accept of the last chapter in lieu of it; which is nothing, an't please your reverences, but
a chapter of chamber-maids, green gowns, and old hats.
Trim took his hat off the ground,--put it upon his head,--and then went on with his
oration upon death, in manner and form following.

Volume V, Chapter IX (1997: 300)

--To us, Jonathan, who know not what want or care is--who live here in the
service of two of the best of masters--(bating in my own case his majesty King William
the Third, whom I had the honour to serve both in Ireland and Flanders)--I own it, that
from Whitsontide to within three weeks of Christmas,--'tis not long--'tis like nothing;--but
to those, Jonathan, who know what death is, and what havock and destruction he can
make, before a man can well wheel about--'tis like a whole age.--O Jonathan! 'twould
make a good-natured man's heart bleed, to consider, continued the corporal (standing
perpendicularly), how low many a brave and upright fellow has been laid since that
time!--And trust me, Susy, added the corporal, turning to Susannah, whose eyes were
swimming in water,--before that time comes round again,--many a bright eye will be
dim.--Susannah placed it to the right side of the page--she wept--but she court'sied
too.--Are we not, continued Trim, looking still at Susannah--are we not like a flower of
the field--a tear of pride stole in betwixt every two tears of humiliation--else no tongue
could have described Susannah's affliction--is not all flesh grass?--Tis clay,--'tis dirt.--
They all looked directly at the scullion,-- the scullion had just been scouring a fish-
kettle.--It was not fair.--
--What is the finest face that ever man looked at!--I could hear Trim talk so for
ever, cried Susannah,--what is it! (Susannah laid her hand upon Trim's shoulder)--but
corruption?--Susannah took it off.
--Now I love you for this--and 'tis this delicious mixture within you which makes
you dear creatures what you are--and he who hates you for it--all I can say of the matter
is--That he has either a pumpkin for his head--or a pippin for his heart,--and whenever
he is dissected 'twill be found so.

10. Laurence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy

by Mr. Yorick

The Pulse. Paris. (2001: 49-51)

Hail, ye small sweet courtesies of life, for smooth do ye make the road of it! like
grace and beauty, which beget inclinations to love at first sight: ’tis ye who open this door
and let the stranger in.
- Pray, Madame, said I, have the goodness to tell me which way I must turn to go
to the Opéra Comique? - Most willingly, Monsieur, said she, laying aside her work. -
I had given a cast with my eye into half a dozen shops, as I came along, in search
of a face not likely to be disordered by such an interruption: till at last, this, hitting my
fancy, I had walked in.
 She was working a pair of ruffles, as she sat in a low chair, on the far side of the
shop, facing the door.
- Tres volontiers, most willingly, said she, laying her work down upon a chair next
her, and rising up from the low chair she was sitting in, with so cheerful a movement, and
so cheerful a look, that had I been laying out fifty louis d’ors with her, I should have said -
“This woman is grateful.”
You must turn, Monsieur, said she, going with me to the door of the shop, and
pointing the way down the street I was to take, - you must turn first to your left hand, -
mais prenez garde - there are two turns; and be so good as to take the second - then go
down a little way and you’ll see a church: and, when you are past it, give yourself the
trouble to turn directly to the right, and that will lead you to the foot of the Pont Neuf,
which you must cross - and there any one will do himself the pleasure to show you. -
She repeated her instructions three times over to me, with the same goodnatur’d
patience the third time as the first; - and if tones and manners have a meaning, which
certainly they have, unless to hearts which shut them out, - she seemed really interested
that I should not lose myself.
I will not suppose it was the woman’s beauty, notwithstanding she was the
handsomest grisette, I think, I ever saw, which had much to do with the sense I had of her
courtesy; only I remember, when I told her how much I was obliged to her, that I looked
very full in her eyes, - and that I repeated my thanks as often as she had done her
instructions.
I had not got ten paces from the door, before I found I had forgot every tittle of
what she had said; - so looking back, and seeing her still standing in the door of the shop,
as if to look whether I went right or not, - I returned back to ask her, whether the first turn
was to my right or left, - for that I had absolutely forgot. - Is it possible! said she, half
laughing.  ’Tis very possible, replied I, when a man is thinking more of a woman than of
her good advice.
As this was the real truth - she took it, as every woman takes a matter of right, with
a slight curtsey.
- Attendez! said she, laying her hand upon my arm to detain me, whilst she called
a lad out of the back shop to get ready a parcel of gloves.  I am just going to send him,
said she, with a packet into that quarter, and if you will have the complaisance to step in,
it will be ready in a moment, and he shall attend you to the place. - So I walk’d in with her
to the far side of the shop: and taking up the ruffle in my hand which she laid upon the
chair, as if I had a mind to sit, she sat down herself in her low chair, and I instantly sat
myself down beside her.
- He will be ready, Monsieur, said she, in a moment. - And in that moment, replied
I, most willingly would I say something very civil to you for all these courtesies.  Any one
may do a casual act of good nature, but a continuation of them shows it is a part of the
temperature; and certainly, added I, if it is the same blood which comes from the heart
which descends to the extremes (touching her wrist) I am sure you must have one of the
best pulses of any woman in the world. - Feel it, said she, holding out her arm.  So laying
down my hat, I took hold of her fingers in one hand, and applied the two forefingers of my
other to the artery. -
- Would to heaven! my dear Eugenius, thou hadst passed by, and beheld me
sitting in my black coat, and in my lack-a-day-sical manner, counting the throbs of it, one
by one, with as much true devotion as if I had been watching the critical ebb or flow of her
fever. - How wouldst thou have laugh’d and moralized upon my new profession! - and
thou shouldst have laugh’d and moralized on. - Trust me, my dear Eugenius, I should
have said, “There are worse occupations in this world than feeling a woman’s pulse.” -
But a grisette’s! thou wouldst have said, - and in an open shop!  Yorick -
- So much the better: for when my views are direct, Eugenius, I care not if all the
world saw me feel it.
The Husband. Paris. (2001: 51-52)
I had counted twenty pulsations, and was going on fast towards the fortieth, when
her husband, coming unexpected from a back parlour into the shop, put me a little out of
my reckoning. - ’Twas nobody but her husband, she said; - so I began a fresh score. -
Monsieur is so good, quoth she, as he pass’d by us, as to give himself the trouble of
feeling my pulse. - The husband took off his hat, and making me a bow, said, I did him
too much honour - and having said that, he put on his hat and walk’d out.
Good God! said I to myself, as he went out, - and can this man be the husband of
this woman!
Let it not torment the few who know what must have been the grounds of this
exclamation, if I explain it to those who do not.
In London a shopkeeper and a shopkeeper’s wife seem to be one bone and one
flesh: in the several endowments of mind and body, sometimes the one, sometimes the
other has it, so as, in general, to be upon a par, and totally with each other as nearly as
man and wife need to do.
In Paris, there are scarce two orders of beings more different: for the legislative
and executive powers of the shop not resting in the husband, he seldom comes there: - in
some dark and dismal room behind, he sits commerce-less, in his thrum nightcap, the
same rough son of Nature that Nature left him.
The genius of a people, where nothing but the monarchy is salique, having ceded
this department, with sundry others, totally to the women, - by a continual higgling with
customers of all ranks and sizes from morning to night, like so many rough pebbles shook
long together in a bag, by amicable collisions they have worn down their asperities and
sharp angles, and not only become round and smooth, but will receive, some of them, a
polish like a brilliant: - Monsieur le Mari is little better than the stone under your foot.
- Surely, - surely, man! it is not good for thee to sit alone: - thou wast made for
social intercourse and gentle greetings; and this improvement of our natures from it I
appeal to as my evidence.
- And how does it beat, Monsieur? said she. - With all the benignity, said I, looking
quietly in her eyes, that I expected. - She was going to say something civil in return - but
the lad came into the shop with the gloves. - Á propos, said I, I want a couple of pairs
myself.