June 12. I have return’d from a delicious walk of Romance, my Bramine, which I am to tread a thousand times over with You swinging upon my arm — tis to my Convent — & I have pluckd up a score [of] Bryars by the roots wch grew near the edge of the foot way, that they might not scratch or incommode you — had I been sure of yr taking that walk with me the very next day, I could not have been more serious in my employing — dear Enthusiasm? — thou bringst things forward in a moment, wch Time keeps for Ages back — I have you ten times a day besides me — I talk to you Eliza, for hours together — I take yr. Council — I hear your reasons — I admire you for them! — to this magic of a warm Mind, I owe all that’s worth living for, during this State of our Trial — Every Trincket you gave or exchanged wth me has its force — yr. Picture is Yrself — all Sentiment, Softness & Truth — It speaks — it listens— ’tis conc’rned — it resignes — Dearest Original! how like unto thee does it seem — & will seem — till thou makest it vanish, by thy presence — I’m but so, so — but advancing in health — to meet you — to nurse you, to nourish you agst; you come — for I fear, You will not arrive, but in a State that calls out to Yorick for support — Thou art Mistress, Eliza, of all the powers he has to sooth & protect thee — for thou art Mistress of his heart; his affections; and his reason — & beyond that, except a paltry purse, he has nothing worth giving thee — .
June 13.
This has been a year of presents to me — my Bramine — How many presents have I recd from You in the first place? —— Ld Spencer has loaded me with a grand Ecritoire of 40 Guineas — I am to receive this week a fourty Guinea - present of a gold Snuff Box, as fine as Paris can fabricate one with an Inscription on it, more valuable, than the Box itself — I have a present of a portrait, (which by the by I have immortalized in my Sentimental Journey) worth them both — I say nothing of a gold Stock buccle & Buttons — tho’ I rate them above rubies, because they were Consecrated by the hand of Friendship, as She fitted them to me. — I have a present of the Sculptures upon poor Ovid’s Tomb, who died in Exile, tho’ he wrote so well upon the Art of Love — These are in six beautiful Pictures executed on Marble at Rome — & these Eliza, I keep sacred as Ornaments for yr. Cabinet, on Condition I hang them up. — and last of all, I have had a present, Eliza! this Year, of a Heart so finely set — with such rich materials — & Workmanship — That Nature must have had the chief hand in it — If I am able to keep it — I shall be a rich Man — If I lose it — I shall be poor indeed — so poor! I shall stand begging at yr gates. — But what can all these presents portend — That it will turn out a fortunate earnest, of what is to be given me hereafter.
I want you to comfort me my dear Bramine — & reconcile my mind to 3 months misery — some days I think lightly of it — on others — my heart sinks down to the earth — but tis the last Trial of conjugal Misery — & I wish it was to begin this moment, That it might run its period the faster — for sitting as I do, expecting sorrow — is suffering it — I am going to Hall to be philosophizd with for a week or ten Days on this point — but one hour with you would calm me more & furnish me with stronger Supports under this weight upon my Spirits, than all the world put together — Heaven! to what distressful Encountres hast thou thought fit to expose me — & was it not, that thou hast blessd me with a chearfulness of disposition — & thrown an object in my way, That is to render that Sun Shine perpetual — Thy dealings with me, would be a mystery.
June 15 — from morning to night every momt of this day held in Bondage at my friend Lt ffauconberg’s — so have but a moment left to close the day, as I do every one — with wishing thee a sweet nights rest — would I was at the feet of yr. Bed funning breezes to You, in yr. Slumbers — Mark! — you will dream of me this night — & if it is not recorded in your Journal — Ill say, you could not recollect it the day following — adieu. —
June 16.
My Chaise is so large — so high — so long — so wide — so Crawford ‘s-like, That I am building a coach house on purpose for it — do you dislike it for this gigantick size? — now I remember, I heard you once say — You hated a small post Chaise — wch you must know determined my Choice to this — because I hope to make you a present of it — & if you are squeamish I shall be as squeamish as You, & return you all yr presents, — but one — wch I cannot part with — and what that is — I defy you to guess. I have bought a milch Asse this afternoon — & purpose to live by Suction, to save the expences of houskeeping — & have a Score or two guineas in my purse, next
June 17.
I have brought yr name Eliza! and Picture into my work — where they will remain — when You & I are at rest for ever — Some Annotator or explainer of my works in this place will take occasion, to speak of the Friendship wch subsisted so long & faithfully betwixt Yorick & the Lady he speaks of — Her Name he will tell the world was Draper — a Native of India — married there to a gentleman in the India Service of that Name — who brought her over to England for the recovery of her health in the Year 65 — where She continued to April the Year 1767. It was abt three months before her Return to India, That our Author’s acquaintance & hers began. Mrs Draper had a great thirst for knowledge — was handsome — genteel — engaging — and of such gentle dispositions & so enlightend an understanding, — That Yorick (whether he made much opposition is not known) from an acquaintance — soon became her Admirer — they caught fire, at each other at the same time — & they W? often say, without reserve to the world, & without any Idea of saying wrong in it, That their Affections for each other were unbounded — Mr Draper dying in the Year * * * * * This Lady return’d to England & Yorick the Year after becoming a Widower — They were married — & retiring to one of his Livings in Yorkshire, where was a most romantic Situation — they lived & died happily — and are spoke of with honour in the parish to this day —
June 18.
How do you like the History, of this couple, Eliza? — is it to your mind? — or shall it be written better some sentimental Evening after your return — tis a rough sketch — but I could make it a pretty picture, as the outlines are just — we’ll put our heads together & try what we can do. This last Sheet has put it out of my power, ever to send you this Journal to India — I had been more guarded — but that You have often told me, ’twas in vain to think of writing by Ships wch sail in March, — as you hoped to be upon yr return again by their arrival at Bombay — If I can write a Letter I will — but this Journal must be put into Eliza’s hands by Yorick only — God grant you to read it soon. —
I never was so well and alert, as I find myself this day — tho’ with a face as pale & clear as a Lady after her Lying in. Yet you never saw me so Young by 5 Years — & If you do not leave Bombay soon — You’l find me as young as Yrself — at this rate of going on — Summon’d from home — adieu.
June 20.
I think my dear Bramine — That nature is turn’d upside down — for Wives go to visit Husbands, at greater perils & take longer journies to pay them this Civility now a days out of ill Will — than good — Mine is flying post a Journey of a, thousand Miles — with as many miles to go back — merely to see how I do, & whether I am fat or lean — &; how far are you going to see yr Helpmate — and at such hazards to Yr Life, as few Wives’ best affections w? be able to surmount — But Duty & Submission Eliza govern thee — by what impulses my Rib is bent towards me — I have told you — & yet I wd to God, Draper but recd & treated you with half the courtesy & good nature — I wish you was with him — for the same reason I wish my Wife at Coxwould — That She might the sooner depart in peace — She is ill — of a Diarhea which she has from a weakness on her bowels ever since her paralitic Stroke — Travelling post in hot weather, is not the best remedy for her — but my girl says — she is determined to venture — She wrote me word in Winter, She wd not leave france, till her end approach’d — surely this journey is not prophetick! but twould invert the order of Things on the other side of this Leaf — and what is t
o be on the next Leaf — The Fates, Eliza only can tell us — rest satisfied.
June 21. have left off all medicnes — not caring to tear my frame to pieces with ‘em — as I feel perfectly well. — set out for Crasy Castle to morrow morning — where I stay ten days — take my Sentimental Voyage — and this Journal with me, as certain as the two first Wheels of my Chariot — I cannot go on without them. — I long to see yrs — I shall read it a thousand times over If I get it before yr arrival — What wd I now give for it — tho’ I know there are circumstances in it, That will make my heart bleed & waste within me — but if all blows over — tis enough — we will not recount our Sorrows, but to shed tears of Joy over them — O Eliza! Eliza! Heaven nor any Being it created, never so possessd a Man’s heart — as thou possessest mine — use it kindly — Hussy — that is, eternally be true to it.
June 22. Ive been as far as York to day with no Soul with me in my Chase, but yr Picture — for it has a Soul I think — or something like one which has talk’d to me, & been the best Company I ever took a Journey with (always excepting a Journey I once took with a friend of yrs to Salt hill, & Enfield Wash — The pleasure I had in those Journies, have left Impressions upon my Mind, which will last my Life — You may tell her as much when You see her — she will not take it ill — I set out early to morrow morning to see Mr Hall — but take my Journal along with me.
June 24th As pleasant a Journey as I am capable of taking Eliza! without thee — Thou shalt take it with me when time & tide serve hereafter, & every other Journey wch ever gave me pleasure, shall be rolled over again with thee besides me — Amo’s Vale shall look gay again upon Eliza’s Visit — and the Companion of her Journey, will grow young again as he sits upon her Banks with Eliza seated besides him — I have this and a thousand little parties of pleasure — & systems of living out of the comon high road of Life, hourly working in my fancy for you — there wants only the Dramatis Personoe for the performance — the play is wrote — the Scenes are painted — & the Curtain ready to be drawn up. — the whole Piece waits for thee, my Eliza —
June 25. — In a course of continual visits & Invitations here — Bombay-Lascelles dined here to day (his Wife yesterday brought to bed) — (he is a poor sorry soul! but has taken a house two miles from Crasy Castle — What a Stupid, selfish, unsentimental set of Beings are the Bulk of our Sex! by Heaven! not one man out of 50, informd with feelings — or endow’d either with heads or hearts able to possess & fill the mind — of such a Being as thee, — with one Vibration like its own — I never see or converse with one of my Sex — but I give this point a reflection — how wd such a creature please my Bramine? I assure thee Eliza I have not been able to find one, whom I thought could please You — the turn of Sentiment, with wch I left yr. Character possess’d — must improve, hourly upon You — Truth, fidelity, honour & Love mix’d up with Delicacy, garrantee one another — and a taste so improved as yrs, by so delicious fare, can never degenerate — I shall find you, my Bramine, if possible, more valuable & lovely than when you first caught my esteem and kindness for You — and tho’ I see not this change — I give you so much Credit for it — that at this moment, my heart glowes more warmly as I think of you — & I find myself more your Husband than contracts can make us — I stay here till the 29th had intended a longer Stay — but much company & Dissipation rob me of the only comfort my mind takes, wch is in retirement, where I can think of You Eliza! and enjoy you quietly & without Interruption — tis the way We must expect all that is to be had of real enjoyment in this vile world — which being miserable itself — seems so confederated agst the happiness of the Happy, that they are forced to secure it in private — Vanity must still be had; — & that, Eliza! every thing wth it, wch Yorick’s sense, or generosity has to furnish to one he loves so much as thee — need I tell thee — Thou wilt be as much a Mistress of — as thou art eternally of thy Yorick — adieu — adieu —
June 26 — elven at night — out all the day — dined with a large Party — shewd yr Picture from the fullness of my heart — highly admired — alas! said I did you but see the Original! — good night. —
June 27.
Ten in the morning, with my Snuff open at the Top of this sheet, — & your gentle sweet face opposite to mine, & saying “what I write will be cordially read “ — possibly you may be precisely engaged at this very hour, the same way — and telling me some interesting Story abt yr health, yr sufferings — yr heart aches — and other Sensations wch friendship — absence & uncertainty create within you for my own part, my dear Eliza, I am a prey to every thing in its turn — & was it not for that sweet clew of hope wch is perpetual opening me a way which is to lead me to thee thro’ all this Labyrinth — was it not for this, my Eliza! how could I find rest for this bewilderd heart of mine? — I shd wait for you till September came — & if you did not arrive with it — shd sicken & die — but I will live for thee — so count me Immortal — 3 India Men arrived within ten days — will none of ‘em bring me Tidings of You? — but I am foolish — but ever thine — my dear, dear Bramine.
June 28.
O what a tormenting night have my dreams led me abt You Eliza — Mrs Draper a Widow! — with a hand at Liberty to give! — and gave it to another! — She told me — I must acquiese — it could not be otherwise. Acquiese! cried I, waking in agonies — God be prais’d cried I — tis a dream — fell asleep after — dreamd You was married to the Captain of the Ship — I waked in a fever — but ’twas the Fever in my blood which brought on this painful chain of Ideas — for I am ill to day — & for want of more cheary Ideas, I torment my Eliza with these — whose Sensibility will suffer, if Yorick could dream but of her Infidelity! & I suffer Eliza in my turn, & think my self at prest little better than an old woman or a Dreamer of Dreams in the Scripture Language — I am going to ride myself into better health & better fancies with Hall — whose Castle lying near the Sea — We have a Beach as even as a mirrour of 5 miles in Length before it, where we dayly run races in our Chaises; with one wheel in the Sea, & the other in the Sand — O Eliza, wth wt fresh ardour & impatience when I’m viewing the element, do I sigh for thy return — But I need no memento’s of my Destitution & misery for want of thee — I carry them abt me, — & shall not lay them down — (for I worship & I do Idolize these tender sorrows) till I meet thee upon the Beech & present the handkerchiefs staind with blood wch broke out from my heart upon yr departure — This token of what I felt at that Crisis, Eliza, shall never, never be wash’d out. Adieu my dear Wife — you are still mine — notwithstanding all the Dreams & Dreamers in the World. — Lascells dined wth us — Memd I have to tell you a Conversation — I will not write it —
June 29. am got home from Halls — to Cox would — O ’tis a delicious retreat! both from its beauty, & air of Solitude; & so sweetly does every thing abt it invite yr mind to rest from its Labours and be at peace with itself & the world — That tis the only place, Eliza, I could live in at this juncture — I hope one day, You will like it as much as yr Bramine — It shall be decorated & made more worthy of You — by the time fate encourages me to look for you — I have made you a sweet Sitting Room (as I told You) already — and am projecting a good Bed-Chamber adjoing it, with a pretty dressing room for You, which connects them together — & when they are finishd, will be as sweet a set of romantic apartments, as You ever beheld — the Sleeping room will be very large — The dressing room, thro’ wch You pass into yr Temple, will be little — but Big enough to hold a dressing Table — a couple of chairs, with room for yr Nymph to stand at her ease both behind and on either side of you — wth spare Room to hang a dozen petticoats — gowns, &c — & Shelves for as many Bandboxes — yr little Temple I have described — and what it will hold — but if it ever it holds You & I, my Eliza — the Room will not be too little for us — but We shall be too big for the Room. —
June 30. — Tis now a quarter of a year (wanting 3 days) since You sail’d from the Downs — in one month more — You will be (I
trust) at Madras — & there you will stay I suppose 2 long long months, before you set out for Bombay — Tis there I shall want to hear from you, — most impatiently — because the most interesting Letters must come from Eliza when she is there — at present, I can hear of yr health, & tho’ that of all Accts affects me most — yet still I have hopes taking their Rise from that — & those are — What Impression you can make upon Mr Draper, towards setting you at Liberty — & leaving you to pursue the best measures for yr preservation — and these are points, I wr go to Aleppo, to know certainty: I have been possess’d all day & night with an opinion, That Draper will change his behaviour totally towards you — That he will grow friendly & caressing — and as he knows yr nature is easily to be won with gentleness, he will practice it to turn you from yr purpose of quitting him — In short when it comes to the point of yr going from him to England — it will have so much the face, if not the reality, of an alienation on yr side from India for ever, as a place you cannot live at — that he will part with You by no means, he can prevent — You will be cajoiled my dear Eliza thus out of yr. Life — but what serves it to write this, unless means can be found for You to read it — If you come not — I will take the Safest Cautions I can to have it got to You — & risk every thing, rather than You should not know how much I think of You — & how much stronger hold you have got of me, than ever. — Dillon has obtain’d his fair Indian — & has this post wrote a kind Letter of enquiry after Yorick and his Bramine — he is a good Soul — & interests himself much in our fate — I have wrote him a whole Sheet of paper abt us — it ought to have been copied into this Journal — but the uncertainty of yr ever reading it, makes me omit that, with a thousand other things, which when we meet, shall beguile us of many a long winters night. — those precious Nights! — my Eliza! You rate them as high as I do — & look back upon the manner the hours glided over our heads in them, with the same Interest & Delight as the Man you spent them with — They are all that remains to us — except the Expectation of their return — the Space between us is a dismal Void — full of doubts & suspence — Heaven & its kindest Spirits, my dear rest over yr thoughts by day — & free them from all disturbance at night adieu — adieu Eliza! — I have got over this Month — so fare wel to it, & the Sorrows it has brought with it — the next month, I prophecy will be worse.
Complete Works of Laurence Sterne Page 120