such dreary titles that met the eye in public advertisements. But a sermon so odd and sensational as that delivered before a Shandy congregation might well excite a desire for more. A publisher like Dodsley was not one to let so good an opening pass by, and a selection from Mr Sterne's " Village Sermons," were already at press, with the second edition of "Tristram."

On Thursday, the 22nd of May, there was to be read in the Public Advertiser, this very singular notice "THIS DAY is published in 2 volumes, price, sewed, 5s. (with a portrait of the Editor, engraved from a painting by Mr. Reynolds), The Sermons of Mr. Yorick, published by the Rev. Mr. Sterne, Prebendary of York. Printed for J. Dodsley."

It will be remarked, what a Shandean jumble is here of Yorick and Sterne; and some have leant on him very severely for what they considered a trick unworthy his position as a clergyman. It was thought a device for bringing in aid the questionable popularity of "Tristram Shandy" to help off one of the most sacred functions of a clergyman. But, in truth, this has been rather a harsh view to take of what, perhaps, might have been a mere publisher's suggestion. They were besides not introduced under the authorship of Shandy, but of Mr. Yorick, an amiable clergyman, with whose sufferings and pathetic end all were familiar. The fact was, Mr. Sterne was better known as "Mr. Yorick" than Mr. Sterne, and it was really a pardonable device which deceived nobody. With the ill-natured feeling then abroad against him, it was natural that he should anticipate some hostile comment upon this proceeding; and in a characteristic preface he remonstrates with his public. He hopes "the most serious reader will find nothing to offend him"-in putting this new title to his newer work. "Lest it should be otherwise, I have added a second titlepage with the real name of the author. The first will serve the bookseller's purpose, and the second will ease the

minds of those who see a jest, and the danger which lurks under it, where no jest was meant;" and accordingly in the volume is to be found a separate fly leaf, for the benefit of such whose tender consciences were liable to be pricked. Could a more ample apology be expected, or one in a more deprecatory key, with, at the same time, a sly hit in that "danger which lurks under" a jest, at the absurd and uncharitable sensitiveness then abroad! Then pleasantly taking credit for their being hastily written, and carrying the marks of haste with them, as evidence of their coming "more from the heart than the head;" he prays to God it may do the world the service he wishes, and winds up with a declaration that he rests with a heart much at ease upon the protection of the humane and candid, from whom I have received many favours, for which I beg leave to return them thanks-thanks."

The man's head," said Walpole, in one of his charitable humours, "indeed was a little turned before, but is now topsy-turvy with his success and fame." But his Sermon Preface, so modest and humble, could scarcely have come from a topsy-turvy head.

The "Sermons" were introduced in the prettiest garb that could be conceived. Neat pocket volumes, prettily printed in a bright type, and the portrait of the Editor, reduced from the famous one by Mr. Reynolds, and exquisitely engraved. These attractions made the work cheap at five shillings. "Have you read his Sermons,' writes Gray, "with his own comic figure at the head of them?" Scarcely "comic," but a store of thought and originality, much latent humour, and a profound Rabelais twinkle.*

In fact, before the sermons had made their appearance, exception had been taken to this peculiar shape of the advertisement :-"If he print his 'Dramatic Sermons,"" says a character in the Public Ledger, “I'll publish my harlequin sermon, that's poz;" and then says that this phrase,

"dramatic discourses," is used in many of the receipts for the subscription money, given out "by a gentleman called the Rev. Mr. S-- for the discourses of Mr. Yorick." This piece of indiscretion is more than probable. The whole was, indeed, au injudicious artifice, and such as one who carried more 66 ounces of ballast" than Yorick would have been sensible enough to avoid-the profit would not have compensated for the inconvenience; but it certainly was the lightest of the offences laid to Yorick's clerical character.

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Dr. Johnson, who could not relish "the man Sterne"* was not likely to give a good word to his sermons. Mr. Cradock, who knew both, tells us how cordially the grand old Samuel," as he has been affectedly called, disliked the great humorist. A lady asked the Doctor how he liked Yorick's sermons. In his rough, blunt way, he answered her "I know nothing about them, madam !"' Later on the subject was renewed, perhaps started by one whom he might have considered to be more competent to deal with them, and he censured them with much severity. The lady, who had not forgotten his plain reply, sharply retorted—“I understood, sir, you had not read them." "No, madam," roared the sage, I did read them, but it was in a stage coach; I should not even have deigned to have looked at them had I been at large !" This elaborate onslaught was due to the great critic's temper of mind, for there were many other works of inferior quality which he deigned to look at even enjoy. He was delighted with Blair's feeble sermons. To another lady, the "vivacious" Miss Monckton, he was scarcely less civil, when the same topic was started. She was urging that some of Sterne's writings were very pathetic, a modified shape of approbation which could scarcely be disputed. Again Johnson broke out, and denied it. "I am sure," said she, 'they have affected me." This left so happy an opening for a good retort that the huge sage began to smile

and roll himself about before speaking. "Why that is because, dearest, you are a dunce;" which unparliamentary language he afterwards handsomely withdrew, saying "with equal truth and politeness' "Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly should not have said it." Posterity has happily reversed many of these rough-and-ready verdicts.

The moralist someway never forgave "the man Sterne." In his own city of Lichfield, the old animosity to the sermons turned up again. One "Mr. Wickens," whose books he was turning over, showed him the obnoxious discourses. The sight of it was like a piece of scarlet cloth. "Sir," roared the doctor, "do you ever read any others?" "Yes," answered Mr. Wickens, with a little spiritual vanity; "I read Sherlock, and Tillotson, and Beveridge, and others." "Ay, sir," broke out the other, in a rather imperfect metaphor, there you drink the cup of salvation to the bottom; here, you have merely the froth from the surface."

The correct but tedious author of "Clarissa" was fearfully scandalized by the new book. The Reverend Monk Hildersly wrote from his bishopric of the Isle of Man to know "Who is this Yorick? I have heard he has the recommendation of some ingenious duchess." "You cannot imagine," writes back Mr. Richardson, "I have looked into these books. Execrable I cannot but call them." And then adds what reads very comically for those who shrink back from the weary and protracted incidents of the excellent Sir Charles Grandison's life, "that he has had only patience" to "run through" a portion of the book. The execrable performance still keeps its ground, and shall be read, not "run through," so long as genuine humour shall be cared for; but "Virtue Rewarded" diluted through innumerable volumes is regarded with a distant and awful respect.

In that same letter he takes the trouble of copying out the sentiments of a young lady, who has been shocked by the perusal of "Tristram," and

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who ventures on a remarkable literary prediction. But mark my prophecy," said she impressively, "that by another season it will be as much decried as it is now extolled. It has not sufficient merit to prevent its sinking when no longer upheld by the breath of fashion.' There is a pendant for this forecasting in Doctor Farmer's prophecy, who, a little later, requested his friend, “B. N. Turner,' to "mark his (Dr. Farmer's) words, and remember that he had predicted that in twenty years, the man who wished to refer to Tristram Shandy,' would have to ask for it of an antiquary." The person reporting this in the year 1818, adds with complacent dulness :-"This was truly prophetic!" Posterity, however, marking the words of Doctor Farmer, looks back literally on a profusion of editions, continued steadily from the very birth of the two first volumes of "Tristram,"-editions of every size, shape, pattern, and price; and Mr. Bohn, who possesses a stereotyped edition, testifies to a steady regular annual demand, in fatal refutation of the vaticination of Doctor Farmer, and Mr. Richardson's "young lady."

At length this London carnival was

to close, and after his three months' revel, Tristram must return to rustic life again, and go back to Yorkshire.

On Sunday, the eighteenth of May, he had the honour of preaching before the judges-the second time of his performing that function. He had already bought a pair of horses for the journey; and in less than a week after the appearance of his sermons, was on his road home. A very different man, it is to be feared. It must have been a well-ballasted mind that could have stood such a probation. Such was scarcely Yorick's. The pettings of the great, the fellowship of fashionable men, the flatteries of the crowd, must have worked indescribable mischief; worse than all, he took home with him the approbation of his spiritual superiors. Here was a shield to stand between him and any well-meant remonstrances of friends. Happy for him if Garrick's remark was only true in part:-"He degenerated in London," said the actor, sorrowfully, “like an ill-transplanted shrub. The incense of the great spoiled his head, and their ragouts his stomach."

END OF THE FOURTH BOOK.

FEW of our readers require to be told that, something about two centuries since, the Mongol and Mantchurian Tartars poured over the Great Wall of China, reduced the forces sent against them, and established a new dynasty on the throne of the flowery land. This resembled, in some degree, the overflowing of a small greenish pool into a large muddy neighbour: the verdant hue soon disappeared in the larger dun-coloured mass; and this, gradually working its way across the isthmus, soon left its small invader without a tinge of its original hue. The traveller may now penetrate the eastern portion of Tartary, even to the heart of its old capital, and meet none but people speaking the Chinese language, wearing the Chinese costume, and imbued with the worldly, industrious spirit that rules the great "central garden" of mud, canals, rice-fields, and ill-smelling towns, from Pekin to Canton.

No complaint can be made against our soldiers, merchants, doctors, or clergymen, on the ground of their having neglected to give us pictures of the country and its people. The accounts we have hitherto had, referred mainly to the southern portion of the country and the seaports; but since our warriors acquired some skill at Pekin in the pleasant art of looting, Colonel Fisher has ventured as far as the eastern extremity of the Great Wall, and put forth all his powers of persuasion to induce the Tartar braves to afford him and his quadrant some trifling hospitality.

"We asked to be allowed to mount the wall, whence we could have a good view of the surrounding country, but they would not allow it. In vain did we speak of its world-wide celebrity, and describe the esteem in which we should be held on our return to our native country, could we only boast of having stood on it; and how valuable a memento of our visit would be a brick actually taken from the structure. Here

Tien-Tsin, a town on the Peiho, at about one-fourth the distance from the forts at its mouth to the City of Pekin, though in about 38° north latitude, endures a degree of heat and of cold much beyond what is experienced by the inhabitants of Cordova, dwelling under the same line. It has been occupied by the allied troops of England and France since the downfall of Pekin. Throughout the winter of 1860-1, they suffered Siberian cold, and in the next July they would have been more comfortable at Cape Coast Castle. Thus disagreeably circumstanced, Captain, or Dr. George Fleming (the title-page of his work does not enlighten us as to his official rank) thought he would be better and more agreeably employed on an exploring tour to the ancient capital of Eastern Tartary. He obtained permission from his own superiors and the Chinese authorities; and, accompanied by a companion a little conversant with the native language, and attended by a Pekin convert, he set forward on his highly interesting tour. The two gentlemen bestrode Tartar ponies; Ma Foo, the courier, rode one and led another; a mounted muleteer took charge of the waggon; and in this wise they pursued their way along causeways, with lower mud plains on each side (the Peiho occasionally flooding that low country), traversed pleasanter hilly districts, struggled along plashy, uneven ways, with millet stalks fourteen feet high overshadowing them, crossed several rivers, approached the sea, caught a glimpse of the mighty turreted wall on a level plain for a short distance from the sea, and then running up the steeps, and at last they entered ShanHai-Kwan, or Ning-Hae, built just

within the wall, and communicating with Mantchuria by the gateway cut in the ponderous boundary.

Through Tartary, about half their route was nearly parallel with the edge of the Gulf of Liau-Tong, N.E. from the Gulf of Petcheli. The principal towns they met in succession are-Chung-Hu-So, Ning-YuenChow, Kin-Chow-Fu, New-Chwang, and Liau-Yang. Having arrived at and inspected Moukden, or, as the inhabitants call it, Shin-yang, they retraced their steps to New-Chwang, then gained the sea port Ying-Tse, near the bottom of the gulf, and at the mouth of the river Liau-Ho, embarked, and sailing down the gulf, returned to the mouth of the Peiho. Tien-Tse, the point of our travellers' departure, is a frightful focus, especially during the hot season, of villanous smells, and all the other abominations attendant on want of drainage and paving. From this "Heavenly Spot," as the name im plies, they hastened, and were in describably relieved on getting into the open country, though toiling along uneven and muddy paths, and hemmed in at intervals with fields of highstalked millet and hemp, sionally varied by small patches of maize and melons, and indigo.

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The collections of houses constructed within a convenient distance of the Peiho, which occasionally overflows into the neighbouring country, were found perched up on high mounds of mud, and sometimes surrounded by a moat, bridged over by large stone flags. A most feeling description is given of their first night's sufferings from the evil odours that environed them, the heat of the mud-wall rooms, the persecution of mosquitoes, and a variety of minor torments. After some vain attempts to propitiate Somnus, our adventurer was obliged to make his escape into the open yard, and there stretch himself upon a door supported by a trough.

One uniform annoyance beset them during the entire extent of their pilgrimage. Their accoutrements, dress, features, all excited the most lively interest in the inhabitants of the towns and villages where they successively took up their quarters. Every one summoned his neighbour to the show, and the doorways were forthwith filled with inquisitive faces

and bent bodies; and long nails would make holes through oiled-paper windows, for their owners to get a peep. Knives and forks, boots, and other articles of clothing were then narrowly inspected and handled, and rest and comfort banished from the tired wayfarers. An agreeable variety to the oft-repeated annoyance occurred on one occasion, when the natives were in ecstasies with the pencils and other writing materials of the travellers. One old man presented his fan to be written on, and when Mr. Fleming had marked it with his name, country, &c., another was handed in, and so on. This piece of condescension wonderfully delighted the people.

The ponies were found to do their duty most satisfactorily. The Chinese, among other good qualities, exhibit great kindness and consideration for their domestic animals, never pricking their mules, asses, or ponies with the spur, and scarce making any use of the whip. They utter peculiar sounds of encouragement which effect more than spur-thrust, or thong. Here is a sketch of the useful little animals:

"Great out-of-proportion head; eyes almost concealed beneath an excess of long matted forelock; thin neck roofed by a tangled mane, which is undisturbed by comb or brush; low, thick, straight shoulder; lengthy, concave, sharp-ridged back; massive, bony haunches, which stand out like

two buttresses, leaving the loins narrow and yawning; and a croup, salient and rude, reaching to a tail like a protracted muddy swab. The limbs strong, but rigidly perpendicular to the very ground, are hid in masses of unkempt hair. Beneath this unprepossessing exterior lies the stanchest spirit, and most unflinching endurance. He performs long journeys that no other animal could get through on the same innutricious food. Measuring from twelve to fourteen hands at utmost, he will maintain Chinaman on his back." a steady jog-trot pace with a sixteen-stone

These are the beasts that, unable to meet our dragoon chargers in full career, contrived most effectively to carry their masters out of danger when sauve qui peut was given out in the Chinese tongue, by their incapable generals.

The mention of soldiers brings to mind our author's commendation of the genuine Chinese-Tartar brave. He will bend a bow which would