Class _z__lJ_C_ 
 
 Book 
 
 JO 
 
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 Copyright )j^. 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
A Political Romance 
 
 c. 
 
J 
 
 A Political Romance 
 
 BY 
 LAURENCE STERNE 
 
 [ 1759] 
 
 An Exadl Reprint of the First Edition 
 With an Introduction by 
 Wilbur L. Cross ^ 
 
 Author of** The Life and Times of Laurence Sterne " 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 The Club of Odd Volumes 
 
 1914 
 
 Co bf ■'J 
 

 Copyright^ 1914? h 
 
 The Club of Odd Volumes 
 
 of Boston, 
 
 JAN I4!9I5 
 
]tr ts vf IB 2tr Its vf to v^ "V ^sf ~i9 if "V vf in vf its itr is 29 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE first edition of j^ Political Romance 
 (1759), reprinted here for the first time, 
 is a rare pamphlet from the pen of Laurence 
 Sterne. Indeed, it was supposed until recently 
 that this specimen of Sterne's humor, antedat- 
 ing fristram Shandy, existed in no other form 
 than the one given it the year after Sterne's 
 death in an edition brought out by a London 
 bookseller named Murdoch, with the assist- 
 ance perhaps of John Hall-Stevenson, the au- 
 thor's intimate friend. The title-page of that 
 edition runs: — 
 
 "A Political Romance, AddrefTed to 
 
 Efq. of York. London Printed and 
 
 fold by J. Murdoch, book feller, oppofite 
 the New Exchange Coffe-houfe in the 
 Strand. MDCCLXIX." 
 
 Itis a duodecimo volume, having an"Adver- 
 tifement" (pp. iv-ix) and a list of the characters 
 in the allegory with their real names opposite 
 (p. x). The Romance itself covers forty-seven 
 pages. In the ''Advertifement" the editor or 
 bookseller says: "This little piece was written 
 by Mr. Si erne in the year 1759, ^^^ ^^^ private 
 
[ " ] 
 
 reafons was then fupprefled. The recovery of 
 this fatirical performance from oblivion, as 
 worthy of fo mafterly a pen, will, it is hoped, be 
 a fufficient excufe, with all lovers of literary 
 merit, for thus bringing it to public view." 
 
 Murdoch's edition, several times reprinted 
 by other booksellers, was afterwards incorpor- 
 ated in the humorist's collected works of 1 7 80, 
 with a new title: The History of a Good Warm 
 Watch-Coat , . . A Political Romance. All subse- 
 quent editors have taken the text as they found 
 it here, and have interpreted Murdoch's remark 
 that the pamphlet was suppressed to mean that 
 it was not published during the author's life- 
 time. It was laid by, even the biographers have 
 declared, in Sterne's desk, and at most circu- 
 lated only in manuscript. Hall-Stevenson, it 
 has been assumed, had one of the manuscripts, 
 which he placed in Murdoch's hand for publi- 
 cation. 
 
 A clue to the existence of an edition of A 
 Political Romance earlier than Murdoch's was 
 derived from A Memoir of the York Press., 1868, 
 by Robert Davies, a most accurate anti- 
 quary. While he was writing his book he had 
 access to the valuable collection of Edward 
 Hailstone, Esq., of Horton Hall, Bradford, 
 England, and there he saw a copy of the first 
 edition bearing the date 1759. On Mr. Hail- 
 stone's death in 1 8 90, this copy came to the Li- 
 
[ iii ] 
 
 brary of the Dean and Chapter of York, where 
 it was uncovered in September, 1905. A few 
 weeks later another copy was found in a vol- 
 ume of pamphlets at the York Subscription 
 Library. Still another copy, bound with other 
 tracts, was discovered the next year in the Li- 
 brary of Trinity College, Cambridge. So far as 
 it is known, no other copies are extant. In none 
 of the three cases was the librarian aware that 
 he had in his possession an anonymous^d-^ d' es- 
 prit by Laurence Sterne. 
 
 Our reprint is from a beautiful transcript of 
 the Hailstone volume made by Miss Elizabeth 
 Hastings of London. She followed the text line 
 by line and page by page, and the present edi- 
 tion reproduces so accurately the typography 
 and the paging of the original that no biblio- 
 graphical description is needed here. By com- 
 paring the reprint with the usual text of the 
 Romance, the reader may see how ruthlessly 
 Murdoch mutilated Sterne. To be brief, he 
 "corrected" the humorist's English, substitut- 
 ing "elegant" phrases for quaint and homely 
 idioms, and cut away the entire Key and two 
 long letters that go with it. — "Alas I Poor 
 Yorick!" 
 
 To understand Sterne's humorous pamphlet, 
 one must have in mind the circumstances in 
 which it was written ; otherwise nothing can be 
 made of it. After graduating from Jesus Col- 
 
[iv ] 
 
 lege, Cambridge, Sterne entered the ministry 
 of the Church of England and settled as Vicar 
 of Sutton-on-the-Forest — a small village eight 
 miles to the north of the city of York. Through 
 the influence of his uncle. Dr. Jaques Sterne, 
 Precentor to York Minster and Archdeacon of 
 Cleveland, he was appointed, early in 1741, a 
 prebendary in the Cathedral. Thenceforth to 
 the end of his life he was a member of the 
 York Chapter, composed of the Dean, canons, 
 and prebendaries, for the management of all 
 affairs connected with the Cathedral. Within 
 the Chapter there was a good deal of maneu- 
 vering, whenever a small office fell vacant, in 
 the interest of friends; and at times friction 
 arose between the Dean and the Archbishop 
 over the real or apparent encroachment on 
 each other's rights. 
 
 The first Archbishop of York that concerns 
 us was Matthew Hutton, who disliked Sterne 
 and took sides against him in a quarrel that 
 sprang up between Laurence and his uncle 
 Jaques. In the spring of 1757, Archbishop 
 Hutton was translated to the see of Canter- 
 bury. His successor at York was Dr. John Gil- 
 bert, for some years Bishop of Salisbury. He 
 was an amiable gentleman, most friendly to- 
 wards Sterne, but without the strong hand ne- 
 cessary to check intrigues. Physical infirmities 
 coming upon him, he rarely left his palace at 
 
Bishopthorpe, two miles south of York. With 
 the Dean — Dr. John Fountayne — Sterne 
 had been acquainted since their college days 
 together at Cambridge. Theywere fast friends. 
 The Dean spent much of his time at Melton 
 Manor, the family seat in South Yorkshire, and 
 so could not always know, any more than the 
 Archbishop, what occurred at York. He was 
 a colorless, good-natured ecclesiastic, inclined, 
 however, to insist upon his prerogatives. 
 
 The diocese had an arch intriguer in Dr. 
 Francis Topham, the leading ecclesiastical law- 
 yer at York, the official adviser to the Arch- 
 bishop, to the Dean, and to many of the minor 
 clergy. Never satisfied with the positions that 
 he held, he was always scheming for more. In 
 the autumn of 1748, he fomented a quarrel 
 between Archbishop Hutton and Dean Foun- 
 tayne over the appointment of preachers to the 
 Cathedral. The Dean, it was averred, ordered 
 the pulpit locked against a prebendary chosen 
 for the day by the Chancellor of the diocese. 
 For his defence of the Archbishop's rights on 
 this and other occasions. Dr. Topham was ap- 
 pointed, in 175 1, Commissary and Keeper- 
 General of the Exchequer and Prerogative 
 Courts of the Archbishop of York, — the most 
 comfortable legal office within the gift of his 
 Grace. Near the same time, the Commissary- 
 ship of the Dean and Chapter, worth twenty 
 
[ "] 
 
 pounds a year, fell vacant by the death of Dr. 
 Mark Braithwaite, an advocate in the ecclesi- 
 astical court. Dr. Topham made a grasp for 
 that office, but missed. The place was given to 
 William Stables, another ecclesiastical lawyer. 
 Thereupon Dr. Topham made a grasp for the 
 Commissaryship of the Peculiar Court of Pick- 
 ering and Pocklington, which had likewise be- 
 come vacant by the death of Dr. Mark Braith- 
 waite. This office, valued at six pounds a year, 
 he missed also; the Dean generously presented 
 it to his friend Laurence Sterne. Over these ap- 
 pointments Dr. Topham raised a loud clamor. 
 Had not the Chapter been packed against 
 him, he declared, he would have got the first ; 
 and had the Dean kept his solemn promise, he 
 would have got the second. The quarrel rose to 
 its height at a dinner of the York clergy, where 
 the Dean and Sterne denounced him as a liar. 
 Thereafter, Dr. Topham kept reasonably 
 quiet for several years — until the advent of 
 Dr. Gilbert in 1757. On first meeting the new 
 Archbishop, the lawyer told him that he would 
 find it very difficult to live upon good terms 
 with the Dean and Chapter, for they were a set 
 of strange people. The Archbishop, however, 
 might be assured that he would have a zealous 
 champion in all disputes which might arise. 
 Needless to say, Dr. Topham saw to it that 
 petty disputes did arise over questions con- 
 
[vii] 
 
 cerning leases of Cathedral property and the 
 proper method of inducting prebendaries. It 
 was not his intent to force these differences to a 
 breach between the Dean and the Archbishop; 
 but rather to ingratiate himself into favor at the 
 palace so that Dr. Gilbert might be kindly dis- 
 posed to a new and questionable scheme on 
 which his heart was now set. On searching the 
 records, he had discovered that the patent of 
 the Commissaryship of the Exchequer and 
 Prerogative Courts — his best paying office — 
 had formerly been granted and enjoyed for two 
 lives instead of for one life, as was then the cus- 
 tom. He naturally wished a revival of the good 
 old times. So he went to the Archbishop in the 
 summer of 1 75 8, and asked him for permission 
 to open his patent of the office, which read for 
 one life only, and " to add the life of another 
 proper person to it," meaning thereby, as it 
 quickly transpired, the name of his own son. 
 That son, then a mere boy, lived to be Edward 
 Topham, playwright and libertine. 
 
 The Archbishop was inclined to agree to 
 the plan out of gratitude to Dr. Topham for 
 his many services; but the Dean and Chapter, 
 whose concurrence was necessary to complete 
 the transaction, were hostile to the proposal. 
 That the question of the appointment, which 
 threatened to divide the Church of York, might 
 be settled peaceably, the Dean, Dr. Topham, 
 
[ ^"i ] 
 
 and several others were summoned by the 
 Archbishop to meet at Bishopthorpe on No- 
 vember 7, 1758, for a general conference. The 
 two chief dignitaries, who had been misrepre- 
 sented, each to each, by the intriguing lawyer, 
 found themselves agreeably of one opinion : 
 that it was inadvisable, notwithstanding an- 
 cient precedent, to grant the valuable patent 
 for more than one life. The lawyer, enraged at 
 this decision, says Sterne, "huffed and bounced 
 most terribly," threatening everybody from the 
 Archbishop down to a timid surgeon, one Isaac 
 Newton, who gave the story of the conference 
 to the coffee-houses. Nothing coming of these 
 angry violences. Dr. Topham decided to ap- 
 peal to the pubHc against the Dean, whom he 
 charged with working upon the sick man at 
 Bishopthorpe. So, during the second week in 
 December, was launched his anonymous pam- 
 phlet entitled A Letter addressed to the Rever- 
 end the Dean of Tork; In which is given A full 
 Detail of some very extraordinary Behaviour of 
 bis, in relation to bis Denial of a Promise made 
 by him to Dr. topham. Though the sixpenny 
 pamphlet set out to deal principally with the 
 commissaryship that fell to Sterne, it neverthe- 
 less touched upon all the quarrels of a dozen 
 years. Two weeks later, the Dean had ready 
 his retort courteous, which bore the title: An 
 Answer to a Letter Addressed to the Dean of 
 
[ i"] 
 
 Tork, in the Name o/Dr, 'Topham. A feature of 
 this very skilful reply was a formal declaration, 
 signed by Laurence Sterne, as to what took 
 place at the clerical dinner when Dr. Topham 
 was proved to be a liar. In concluding his open 
 letter, the Dean announced that he had taken 
 leave of Dr. Topham "once for all." Thus 
 apparently sure of the last word, the lawyer 
 poured forth the phials of his wrath in A Re- 
 ply to the Answer to a Letter lately addressed to 
 the Dean ofTork. With considerable humor "a 
 late notable performance," supposed to be the 
 Dean's, was described as "the child and off- 
 spring of many parents." Mr. Sterne and some 
 others, it was intimated, had been called in by 
 the Dean for " correcting, revising, ornament- 
 ing, and embellishing" his well-known faint 
 and nerveless style. 
 
 Some parts of the Dean's pamphlet were 
 without doubt Sterne's ; but they count for no- 
 thing in comparison with A Political Romance^ 
 all his own, which he sent to the printer late in 
 January, 1759. Dr. Topham had written in an- 
 ger; the Dean replied soberly; Sterne turned 
 the whole controversy into ridicule. "Above 
 five hundred copies " of Sterne's pamphlet, it 
 was said, "were struck off"; and "what all the 
 serious arguments in the world could not effect, 
 this brought about." At once Sterne had at his 
 feet both friends and enemies, begging that 
 
[ " ] 
 
 the Romance be suppressed. Dr. Topham sent 
 word that he was ready, on this condition, to 
 "quit his pretensions." Certain members of the 
 York Chapter told Sterne that this humorous 
 recital of their disputes would never do. The 
 Archbishop and the Dean were, to say truth, 
 each handsomely complimented by the way; 
 but the laugh was, after all, on them as well 
 as on Dr. Topham ; the publication, from any 
 point of view, was, they thought, offensive to 
 the dignity of the Church. Sterne heeded the 
 advice of his brethren. With his assent, an 
 official of the Cathedral bought up the copies 
 remaining in the book-stalls and burned them 
 with those still at the printer's. That was the 
 current story thirty years after. But several 
 copies must have been sold beyond recovery; 
 and Sterne himself managed in some way to 
 keep from the flames "three or four" other 
 copies, which he guarded for the delight of his 
 friends. It is perhaps one of these copies that 
 is reprinted here. 
 
 Sterne cast his amusing narrative in the form 
 of an allegory, having in mind Swift's Voyage to 
 Lilliput. That seeming great things may appear 
 as small as they really are, the diocese of York 
 is cut down to a country parish, and Arch- 
 bishop Gilbert is thereby reduced to the rank 
 of a village parson. The late parson is Arch- 
 bishop Hutton. The Dean, Dr. John Foun- 
 
[xi ] 
 
 tayne, shorn of his surname, becomes merely 
 John the parish clerk; and the members of the 
 Chapter figure as the church-wardens. Inci- 
 dentally Mark Braithwaite appears as Mark 
 Slender, and William Stables as William Doe. 
 Dr. Topham, renamed Trim, because he re- 
 ceives so thorough a trimming at the last, is 
 degraded to sexton and dog-whipper of the 
 parish; and Sterne himself is slightly disguised 
 under the name of Lorry Slim. 
 
 As of the characters, so of the incidents, 
 which cover the bickerings of ten years, from 
 1748 to 1758. In the dispute over the height 
 of John's desk, everybody would see a comical 
 version of the quarrel that Dr. Topham stirred 
 up between Archbishop Hutton and Dean 
 Fountayne over the key to the Cathedral pul- 
 pit. When Trim, clad in an old coat, hat, and 
 wig, emerges from the vicarage and struts 
 across the churchyard, bawling out to John, 
 " See here, my Lad ! how fine I am ! " — that 
 is Sterne 's way of saying that Dr. Topham has 
 obtained from the Archbishop the patent of the 
 Prerogative Courts in defiance of the Dean's 
 protest. The pair of black plush breeches which 
 Trim begs John to let him have for God's sake, 
 is the Commissaryship of Pickering and Pock- 
 lington that the Dean refused him and be- 
 stowed upon Sterne. Similarly, the green pul- 
 pit-cloth and old velvet cushion, which Trim 
 
[xii] 
 
 eyed with envy, stand for the Commissaryship 
 of the Dean and Chapter that went to William 
 Stables. The numerous semi-legal offices that 
 Dr. Topham already held are symbolized, for 
 example, in the "pindar's place," worth forty 
 shillings a year, in the six shillings and eight 
 pence that he receives for oiling and winding 
 up the clock, in the six pounds a year paid him 
 for catching the moles of the parish, and in the 
 thirteen shillings and four pence given to his 
 wife for washing and darning the church linen. 
 The old garments and worn pulpit decora- 
 tions being divided up among the contestants, 
 the parish fell back into its usual monotonous 
 drone, and would have droned on forever had 
 not the old parson left his flock for a better liv- 
 ing and his place been supplied by a new in- 
 cumbent. Then was struck up a lively tune. 
 Trim at once hastens to the rectory to sell 
 himself into servitude. He blacks the parson's 
 shoes, greases his boots, runs to the town for 
 eggs, catches his horse and rubs him down; and 
 on one occasion, when the parson cuts his finger 
 in paring an apple, goes half a mile to inquire 
 of an old woman what is good to staunch blood, 
 and returns with a cobweb in his breeches' 
 pocket. All these incidents are a burlesque of 
 Dr. Topham's endless visits to Bishopthorpe 
 immediately after the new Archbishop had set- 
 tled at the palace. 
 
[ ^"^ ] 
 
 As a reward for running on the parson's er- 
 rands, Trim merely requested that he might 
 have an old watch-coat which had long hung 
 up in the church, apparently of no use to any- 
 body. He wished to take it home and have it 
 made over into an under-petticoat for his wife 
 and a jerkin for himself before winter should 
 come on. The parson told him he was welcome 
 to it with all his heart and soul, provided it were 
 in the power of his Reverence to make the gift. 
 As to that, it would be necessary to consult 
 the parish registry. Some days later, just as the 
 parson had discovered that the watch-coat was 
 an ancient possession of great value and dig- 
 nity, Trim popped in with it already ripped 
 into two parts and cut out for the petticoat and 
 jerkin. Enraged at Trim's impudence, the par- 
 son commanded him to lay down the bundle 
 and to wait upon him the next morning in com- 
 pany with John the parish clerk, the church- 
 wardens, and one of the sidesmen. The next 
 morning at eleven, passions ran high at the 
 rectory. Trim pleaded the parson's promise, 
 and, failing there, enumerated his humble ser- 
 vices as the parson's man. But all in vain. The 
 " pimping, pettyfogging, ambidextrous fel- 
 low . . . was kick'd out of doors ; and told, at 
 his peril, never to come there again." 
 
 The allegory here is clear enough. By the 
 watch-coat Sterne intends the Commissaryship 
 
[xiv] 
 
 of the Exchequer and Prerogative Courts ; its 
 being ripped up for a petticoat and a jerkin 
 means that Dr. Topham made out a new patent 
 for the office, in which he inserted the name of 
 his own son as his successor, and then brought 
 it to Archbishop Gilbert for his approval and 
 signature. The hot scene at the parsonage the 
 next morning is the conference held at Bishop- 
 thorpe on November y, 1758. It is probable 
 that Sterne, a most active member of the York 
 Chapter, was present on that occasion, and so 
 witnessed Dr. Topham's utter rout and angry- 
 departure. 
 
 The Key which Sterne appended to the Ro- 
 mance belongs to a kind of humor common in 
 the eighteenth century, a late survival of which 
 may be seen in the Pickwick Club. Specifi- 
 cally, it was developed from Swift's " Grand 
 Committee" that sat upon the meaning of 
 "A Tale of a Tub." Sterne's " Political Club," 
 however, is much more than an imitation of 
 Swift. For years Sterne spent many evenings, 
 when in York, at a convivial club that met at 
 Sunton's CofFee-House in Coney Street. Here 
 were discussed the questions of the day, na- 
 tional and local. It was also a gossip-shop for 
 rumor, scandal, and salacious stories and jests. 
 The " Political Club," which devoted an en- 
 tire session to the Romance^ was, I take it, a bur- 
 lesque of the transactions of Sterne's own club. 
 
[X.] 
 
 Under the disguise of a surgeon, lawyer, apoth- 
 ecary, undertaker, and the president who loved 
 an hypothesis better than his Hfe, he probably 
 drew little portraits of the members — their 
 mannerisms and favorite gestures, and their 
 vehemence in the expression of their opinions. 
 What kind of men they were further than this 
 or what names they bore — we may never 
 know, except, to be sure, that the Vicar of Sut- 
 ton is among them. He is the parson of the 
 parish, smart in repartee and ready to defend by 
 a counter-jest an attack upon the cloth, just as 
 was related in many an anecdote of Sterne 
 once current and as may be seen in the char- 
 acter he drew of himself in Parson Yorick. 
 
 To these obscure associates Sterne had been 
 long known for his overpowering sense of 
 humor. "He loved a jest in his heart." He 
 had contributed political paragraphs to York 
 and London newspapers, and had read to his 
 friends his quaint verses occasioned by hear- 
 ing the great bell of the Cathedral toll for the 
 dead; but it was xt2i\\y A Political Romance that 
 first revealed to the author and his club that 
 he could write "so as to make his reader laugh." 
 Having once discovered his talent, Sterne im- 
 mediately sat down to "Tristram Shandy^ and 
 within a year entered upon his fame. 
 
 Wilbur L. Cross. 
 August 20, 1 9 14. 
 
A 
 
 Political Romance, 
 
 Addrefled 
 
 To , Efq-, 
 
 O F 
 
 YORK. 
 
 To which is fubjoined a 
 
 KEY. 
 
 Ridiculum acri 
 Fortius et melius magnas pier umque fee at Res. 
 
 e^^ 
 ^^^ 
 
 r O R K: 
 
 Printed in the Year MDCCLIX. 
 
 [ Price One Shilling.] 
 

 Political Romance^ ^c. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 FS^S^'^N my laft, for want of fome- 
 ^ (^ thine: better to write about, 
 
 53^ -^ ^ I told you what a World of 
 ^ ^^ Fending and Proving we have 
 
 lage of ours, about an old-caJl-Pair-of- 
 black-PluJh-Breeches, which 'Johriy our Pa- 
 riih-Clerk, about ten Years ago, it feems, 
 had made a Promife of to one Trim, who 
 
 is our Sexton and Dog-Whipper. To 
 
 this you write me Word, that you have 
 had more than either one or two Occafions 
 to know a good deal of the fhifty Beha- 
 viour of this faid Mafter Trim^ — and that 
 
 A you 
 
[ o 
 
 you are aftoniflied, nor can you for your 
 Soul conceive, how fo worthlefs a Fellow, 
 and fo worthlefs a Thing into the Bargain, 
 could become the Occalion of fuch a 
 Racket as I have reprefented. 
 
 Now, though you do not fay expreffly, 
 you could wifh to hear any more about it, 
 yet I fee plain enough that I have raifed 
 your Curiofity ; and therefore, from the 
 fame Motive, that I flightly mentioned it 
 at all in my laft Letter, I will, in this, give 
 you a full and very circumftantial Account 
 of the whole Affair. 
 
 But, before I begin, I muft firft fet you 
 right in one very material Point, in which 
 I have miffled you, as to the true Caufe 
 of all this Uproar amongft us ; — which 
 does not take its Rife, as I then told you, 
 from the Affair of the Breeches-, — but, on 
 the contrary, the whole Affair of the 
 Breeches has taken its Rife from it : — 
 To underftand which, you muft know, 
 that the firft Beginning of the Squabble 
 was not between John the Parifh-Clerk 
 and Trim the Sexton, but betwixt the Par- 
 fon of the Pariih and the faid Mafter Triniy 
 
 about 
 
[ 3 ] 
 
 about an old Watch-Coat, which had many 
 Years hung up in the Church, which Trim 
 had fet his Heart upon ; and nothing would 
 ferve Trim but he muft take it home, in 
 order to have it converted into a warm 
 Under-Petticoat for his Wife, and a Jerkin 
 for himfelf, againft Winter ; which, in a 
 plaintive Tone, he moft humbly begg'd his 
 Reverence would confent to. 
 
 I need not tell you. Sir, who have lb 
 often felt it, that a Principle of ftrong 
 Compaffion tranfports a generous Mind 
 fometimes beyond what is ftridtly right, — 
 the Parfon was within an Ace of being an 
 honourable Example of this very Crime; — 
 for no fooner did the diftindl Words — 
 Petticoat — poor Wife — warm — Winter 
 
 ftrike upon his Ear, but his Heart 
 
 warmed, and, before Trim had well got 
 to the End of his Petition, (being a Gentle- 
 man of a frank and open Temper) he told 
 him he was welcome to it, with all his 
 Heart and Soul. But, Trim, fays he, as you 
 fee I ambut juftgot down to my Living, and 
 am an utter Stranger to all Parifh-Matters, 
 know nothing about this old Watch-Coat 
 you beg of me, having never feen it in my 
 
 A 2 Life, 
 
[ 4 ] 
 
 Life, and therefore cannot be a Judge 
 whether 'tis fit for fuch a Purpofe ; or, if 
 it is, in Truth, know not whether 'tis 
 mine to beftow upon you or not ; — you 
 muft have a Week or ten Days Patience, 
 till I can make fome Inquiries about it ; — 
 and, if I find it is in my Power, I tell you 
 again, Man, your Wife is heartily welcome 
 to an Under-Petticoat out of it, and you 
 to a Jerkin, was the Thing as good again 
 as you reprefent it. 
 
 It is neceffary to inform you. Sir, in 
 this Place, That the Parfon was earneftly 
 bent to ferve Trim in this Affair, not only 
 fi-om the Motive of Generofity, which I 
 have juftly afcribed to him, but likewife 
 from another Motive ; and that was by 
 way of making fome Sort of Recompence 
 for a Multitude of fmall Services which 
 Trim had occafionally done, and indeed 
 was continually doing, (as he was much 
 about the Houfe) when his own Man was 
 out of the way. For all thefe Reafons to- 
 gether, I fay, the Parfon of the Parifh in- 
 tended to ferve Trim in this Matter to the 
 utmoft of his Power ; All that was want- 
 ing was previoufly to inquire, if any one 
 
 had 
 
[ 5 ] 
 
 had a Claim to it ; — or whether, as it had, 
 Time immemorial, hung up in the 
 Church, the taking it down might not 
 raife a Clamour in the Parifh. Thefe In- 
 quiries were the very Thing that 'Trim 
 dreaded in his Heart. — He knew very 
 well that if the Parfon fhould but fay one 
 Word to the Church- Wardens about it, 
 there would be an End of the whole Af- 
 fair. For this, and fome other Reafons not 
 neceffary to be told you, at prefent, Trim 
 was for allowing no Time in this Mat- 
 ter ; — but, on the contrary, doubled his 
 Diligence and Importunity at the Vicarage- 
 Houfe ; — plagued the whole Family to 
 Death; prelTed his fuit Morning, Noon, 
 and Night ; and, to fhorten my Story, 
 teazed the poor Gentleman, who was but 
 in an ill State of Health, almoftout of his 
 Life about it. 
 
 You will not wonder, when I tell you, 
 that all this Hurry and Precipitation, on 
 the Side of Mafter Trim, produced its na- 
 tural Effect on the Side of the Parfon, and 
 that was, a Sufpicion that all was not right 
 at the Bottom. 
 
 He 
 
[ 6 ] 
 
 He was one Evening fitting alone in his 
 Study, weighing and turning this Doubt 
 every Way in his Mind ; and, after an 
 Hour and a half's ferious Deliberation up- 
 on the Affair, and running over Trim'^ Be- 
 haviour throughout, — he was juft faying 
 to himfelf, // muji be fo ; when a fudden 
 Rap at the Door put an End to his Solilo- 
 quy, — and, in a few Minutes, to his 
 Doubts too ; for a Labourer in the Town, 
 who deem'd himfelf pa ft his fifty-fecond 
 Year, had been returned by the Conftable 
 in the Militia-Lift, — and he had come, 
 with a Groat in his Hand, to fearch the 
 Parifh Regifter for his Age. — The Parfon 
 bid the poor Fellow put the Groat into his 
 Pocket, and go into the Kitchen : — Then 
 fhutting the Study Door, and taking down 
 the Parifh Regifter, — Who knows, fays he, 
 hut I may find fome thing here ahout this f elf - 
 fame Watch-Coat? — He had fcarce un- 
 clafped the Book, in faying this, when he 
 popped upon the very Thing he wanted, 
 fairly wrote on the firft Page, pafted to the 
 Infide of one of the Covers, whereon was 
 a Memorandum about the very Thing in 
 Qu eft ion, in thefe exprefs Words: 
 
[ 7 ] 
 
 €J)e great Wattl)-.€oat toa^ iJurcJjafeti 
 anJj giben abobe ttoo fjuntireti Scar^ ago, 
 hp t|)e Jtocti of ti\t M^amty to tfti^ ^arifl):: 
 Cl)utcJ), to tlje fole afe anti 25el)oof of tl)c 
 poor cSexton^ tljercof , anti tt\m cSucccffor^, 
 for eber, to fie toorn bp tl)em refpectitelp 
 in tDinterlp colD |i5igl)t^, in ringing Com- 
 
 plineSjPaffing-Bells, &c. toljici) tl)efaitl Hortl 
 
 of tt\t itir^anor l^ab Done, in ^ietp, to fteep 
 tl^e poor ^retclje^ bDarm, anti for tJ)e oBooti 
 of f)i^ oton ^oul, for tofjici) tl^ep toere hu 
 recteti to prap, &c. &c. &c. &c. Juft Hea- 
 ven I faid the Parfon to himfelf, looking 
 upwards, What an Efcape have I had ! 
 Give this for an Under-Petticoat to Trim'j" 
 Wife ! I would not have confented to fuch 
 a Defecration to be Primate of all Eng- 
 land ; nay^ I would not have dijlurb' d a 
 fngle Button of it for half my Tythes ! 
 
 Scarce were the Words out of his Mouth, 
 when in pops 'Trim with the whole Sub- 
 jed: of the Exclamation under both his 
 Arms. — I fay, under both his Arms ; — for 
 he had adlually got it ripp'd and cut out 
 ready, his own Jerkin under one Arm, and 
 the Petticoat under the other, in order to 
 be carried to the Taylor to be made up, — 
 
 and 
 
[8] 
 
 and had juft ftepp'd in, in high Spirits, to 
 fhew the Parfon how cleverly it had held 
 out. 
 
 There are many good Similies now fub- 
 fifting in the World, but which I have nei- 
 ther Time to recoiled: or look for, which 
 would give you a ftrong Conception of 
 the Aftonifhment and honeft Indignation 
 which this unexpected Stroke of Trim^ 
 Impudence impreff'd upon the Parfon's 
 Looks. — Let it fuffice to fay. That it ex- 
 ceeded all fair Defcription, — as well as all 
 Power of proper Refentment, — except 
 this, that 'Trim was ordered, in a ftern 
 Voice, to lay the Bundles down upon the 
 Table, — to go about his Bufinefs, and wait 
 upon him, at his Peril, the next Morning 
 at Eleven precifely: Againft this Hour 
 like a wife Man, the Parfon had fent to 
 defire 'John the Parifh-Clerk, who bore 
 an exceeding good Charadier as a Man of 
 Truth, and who having, moreover, a 
 pretty Freehold of about eighteen Pounds a 
 Year in the Townfhip, was a leading Man 
 in it ; and, upon the whole, was fuch a 
 one of whom it might be faid, — That he 
 rather did Honour to his Office, — than 
 
 that 
 
[ 9 ] 
 
 that his Office did Honour to him. — Him 
 he fends for, with the Church- Wardens, 
 and one of the Sides-Men, a grave, know- 
 ing, old Man, to be prefent : — For as Trim 
 had with-held the whole Truth from the 
 Parfon, touching the Watch-Coat, he 
 thought it probable he would as certainly 
 do the fame Thing to others ; though this, 
 I faid, was wife, the Trouble of the Precau- 
 tion might have been fpared, — becaufe the 
 Parfon's Character was unblemifh'd, — and 
 he had ever been held by the World in the 
 Eftimation of a Man of Honour and Inte- 
 grity. — Trim's Character, on the contrary, 
 was as well known, if not in the World, 
 yet, at leaft, in all the Parifh, to be that of 
 a little, dirty, pimping, pettifogging, ambi- 
 dextrous Fellow, — who neither cared what 
 he did or faid of any, provided he could get a 
 Penny by it . — This might, I fay, have made 
 any Precaution needlefs ; — but you muft 
 know, as the Parfon had in a Manner but 
 juft got down to his Living, he dreaded the 
 Confequences of the leaft ill Impreffion on 
 his firft Entrance amongft his Parifhioners, 
 which would have difabled him from do- 
 ing them the Good he wiflhed ; — so that, 
 out of Regard to his Flock, more than the 
 
 B necef- 
 
[ .o ] 
 
 neceflary Care due to himfelf, — he was re- 
 folv'd not to lie at the Mercy of what Re- 
 fentment might vent, or Malice lend an Ear 
 to. — Accordingly the whole Matter was 
 rehearfed from fir ft to la ft by the Parfon, 
 in the Manner IVe told you, in the Hear- 
 ing of 'John the Parifti-Clerk, and in the 
 Prefence of Trim, 
 
 Trim had little to fay for himfelf, ex- 
 cept " That the Parfon had abfolutely pro- 
 mifed to befriend him and his Wife in the 
 Affair, to the utmoft of his Power : That 
 the Watch- Coat was certainly in his 
 Power, and that he might ftill give it him 
 if he pleafed." 
 
 To this, the Parfon's Reply was ftiort, 
 but ftrong, "That nothing was in his 
 Power to do, but what he could do honejl- 
 ly ; — That in giving the Coat to him and 
 his Wife, he fliould do a manifeft Wrong to 
 the next Sexton ; the great Watch- Coat 
 being the moft comfortable Part of the 
 Place : — That he ftiould, moreover, injure 
 the Right of his own Succeflbr, who would 
 be juft fo much a worfe Patron, as the 
 Worth of the Coat amounted to ; — and in 
 
[■■] 
 
 a Word, he declared that his whole Intent 
 in promifing that Coat, was Charity to 
 Tr/;;/ ; but Wrong to no Man ; that was a 
 Referve, he faid, made in all Cafes of this 
 Kind: — and he declared folemnly, in Verbo 
 Sacerdotis, That this was his Meaning, and 
 was fo underftood by Trim himfelf." 
 
 With the Weight of this Truth, and the 
 great good Senfe and ftrong Reafon which 
 accompanied all the Parfon faid upon the 
 Subjed:, — poor Trim was driven to his laft 
 Shift, — and begg'd he might be fuffered 
 to plead his Right and Title to the Watch- 
 Coat, if not by Promifcy at leaft by Servi- 
 ces, — It was well known how much he 
 was entitled to it upon thefe Scores : That 
 he had black'd the Parfon's Shoes without 
 Count, and greafed his Boots above fifty 
 Times : — That he had run for Eggs into the 
 Town upon all Occafions ; — whetted the 
 Knives at all Hours ; — catched his Horfe 
 and rubbed him down: — That for his 
 Wife fhe had been ready upon all Occafions 
 to charr for them ; — and nei ther he nor fhe, 
 to the befi: of his Remembrance, ever took 
 a Farthing, or any thing beyond a Mug of 
 Ale. — To this Account of his Services he 
 
 B 2 begg'd 
 
begg*d Leave to add thofe of his Wifhes, 
 which, he faid, had been equally great. — 
 He affirmed, and was ready, he faid, to 
 make it appear, by Numbers of Witneffes, 
 "He had drank his Reverence's Health a 
 thoufand Times, (by the bye, he did not 
 add out of the Parfon's own Ale) : That 
 he not only drank his Health, but wifh'd 
 it ; and never came to the Houfe, but afk'd 
 his Man kindly how he did; that in par- 
 ticular, about half a Year ago, when his 
 Reverence cut his Finger in paring an Ap- 
 ple, he went half a Mile to afk a cunning 
 Woman, what was good to ftanch Blood, 
 and adiually returned with a Cobweb in his 
 Breeches Pocket : — Nay, fays Trimy it 
 was not a Fortnight ago, when your Reve- 
 rence took that violent Purge, that I went 
 to the far End of the whole Town to bor- 
 row you a Clofe-ftool, — and came back, 
 as my Neighbours, who flouted me, will 
 all bear witnefs, with the Pan upon my 
 Head, and never thought it too much." 
 
 Trim concluded his pathetick Remon- 
 ftrance with faying, " He hoped his Re- 
 verence's Heart would not fuflFer him to 
 requite fo many faithful Services by fo un- 
 kind 
 
[■3] 
 
 kind a Return : — That if it was fo, as he 
 was the firft, fo he hoped he lliould be the 
 laft, Example of a Man of his Condition 
 fo treated." This Plan of Trim\ De- 
 fence, which Trim had put himfelf upon, 
 — could admit of no other Reply but a ge- 
 neral Smile. 
 
 Upon the whole, let me inform you, 
 That all that could be faid, pro and con, on 
 both Sides, being fairly heard, it was plain, 
 That Trim, in every Part of this Affair, 
 
 had behaved very ill ; and one Thing, 
 
 which was never expecSled to be known of 
 him, happening in the Courfe of this De- 
 bate to come out againft him ; — namely, 
 That he had gone and told the Parfon, be- 
 fore he had ever fet Foot in his Parifh, 
 That John his Parifh-Clerk, his Church- 
 Wardens, and fome of the Heads of the 
 Parifh, were a Parcel of Scoundrels. — Up 
 on the Upfhot, Trim was kick'd out of 
 Doors ; and told, at his Peril, never to 
 come there again. 
 
 At firft Trim huff'd and bounced most 
 terribly ; — fwore he would get a War- 
 rant ; — then nothing would ferve him but 
 
 he 
 
J 
 
 [.4] 
 
 he would call a Bye-Law, and tell the 
 whole Parifh how the Parfon had mifufed 
 him ; — but cooling of that, as fearing the 
 Parfon might poffibly bind him over to his 
 good Behaviour, and, for aught he knew, 
 might fend him to the Houfe of Correc- 
 tion, — he let the Parfon alone ; and to re- 
 venge himfelf, falls foul upon his Clerk, 
 who had no more to do in the Quarrel than 
 you or I ; — rips up the Promife of the old- 
 caft—Pair-of-black—Plujfh— Breeches, and 
 raifes an Uproar in the Town about it, not- 
 withftanding it had flept ten Years. — But 
 all this you muft know, is looked upon in 
 no other Light, but as an artful ftroke of 
 Generalfhip in T^rim, to raife a Duft, and 
 cover himfelf under the difgraceful Cha- 
 ftifement he had undergone. 
 
 If your curiofity is not yet fatiffied, — I 
 will now proceed to relate the Battle of 
 the Breeches, in the fame exad: Manner 
 I have done that of the Watch-Coat. 
 
 Be it known then, that, about ten 
 Years ago, when yohn was appointed Pa- 
 rifh-Clerk of this Church, this faid Mafter 
 Trim took no fmall Pains to get into JohrC^ 
 
 good 
 
[■5] 
 
 good Graces; in order, as it afterwards 
 appeared, to coax a Promife out of him of 
 a Pair of Breeches, which John had then 
 by him, of black Plufh, not much the 
 worfe for wearing ; — Trim only begging 
 for God's fake to have them beftowed up- 
 on him when yohn should think fit to caft 
 them. 
 
 Trim was one of thofe kind of Men who 
 loved a Bit of Finery in his Heart, and 
 would rather have a tatter'd Rag of a Bet- 
 ter Body's, than the beft plain whole Thing 
 his Wife could fpin him. 
 
 yohn, who was naturally unfufpicious, 
 made no more Difficulty of promifing the 
 Breeches, than the Parfon had done in pro- 
 mifing the Great Coat ; and, indeed, with 
 
 fomething lefs Referve, becaufe the 
 
 Breeches were Johri^ own, and he could 
 give them, without Wrong, to whom he 
 thought fit. 
 
 It happened, I was going to fay un- 
 luckily, but I fhould rather fay, moft 
 luckily, for Trim, for he was the only 
 Gainer by it, — that a Quarrel, about fome 
 
 fix 
 
[.6] 
 
 fix or eight Weeks after this, broke out 
 between the late Parfon of the Parifli 
 and John the Clerk. Somebody (and 
 it was thought to be Nobody but Trim) 
 had put it into the Parfon's Head, " That 
 John\ Defk in the Church was, at the 
 leaft, four Inches higher than it fhould 
 
 be : That the Thing gave OfFenfe, 
 
 and was indecorous, inafmuch as it ap- 
 proach'd too near upon a Level with the 
 Parfon's Defk itfelf This Hardfhip the 
 Parfon complained of loudly, — and told 
 John one Day after Prayers, — "He could 
 bear it no longer : — And would have it al- 
 tered and brought down as it fhould be." 
 John made no other Reply, but, ** That 
 the Defk was not of his raifing : — That 
 'twas not one Hair Breadth higher than he 
 found it ; — and that as he found it, fo would 
 he leave it : — In fhort, he would neither 
 make an Encroachment, nor would he 
 fuffer one." 
 
 The late Parfon might have his Virtues, 
 but the leading Part of his Charadier was 
 not Humility ; fo that John^ Stiffnefs in 
 this Point was not likelv to reconcile Mat- 
 ters. — This was Trim'^ Harvefl. 
 
 After 
 
[>7] 
 
 After a friendly Hint to 'John to ftand 
 his Ground, — away hies Trim to make his 
 Market at the Vicarage : — What paff*d 
 there, I will not fay, intending not to be 
 uncharitable; fo fhall content myfelf with 
 only gueffing at it, from the fudden change 
 that appeared in Trim'^ Drefs for the bet- 
 ter ; — for he had left his old ragged Coat, 
 Hat and Wig, in the Stable, and was come 
 forth strutting acrofs the Church-yard, 
 y'clad in a good creditable caft Coat, large 
 Hat and Wig, which the Parfon had just 
 given him. — Ho ! Ho ! Hollo ! yohn ! 
 cries Trimy in an infolent Bravo, as loud as 
 ever he could bawl — See here, my Lad ! 
 how fine I am. — The more Shame for 
 you, anfwered Johriy ferioufly. — Do you 
 think, Trim, fays he, fuch Finery, gained 
 by fuch Services, becomes you, or can 
 wear well ? — Fye upon it. Trim ; — I could 
 not have expected this from you, confi- 
 dering what Friendfhip you pretended, 
 and how kind I have ever been to you : 
 — how many Shillings and Sixpences I 
 have generoufly lent you in your Diftref- 
 fes ? — Nay, it was but t'other Day that I 
 promifed you thefe black Plufh Breeches I 
 
 have on. Rot your Breeches, quoth 
 
 C Trim 
 
[■8] 
 
 Trim ; for Trim\ Brain was half turn'd 
 with his new Finery : — Rot your Breeches, 
 fays he, — I would not take them up, were 
 they laid at my Door ; — give 'em, and be 
 
 d — d to you, to whom you like ; I 
 
 would have you to know I can have a bet- 
 ter Pair at the Parfon's any Day in the 
 Week: — yohn told him plainly, as his 
 Word had once palTd him, he had a Spi- 
 rit above taking Advantage of his Info- 
 lence, in giving them away to another : — 
 But, to tell him his Mind freely, he 
 thought he had got fo many Favours of 
 that Kind, and was fo likely to get many 
 more for the fame Services, of the Parfon, 
 that he had better give up the Breeches, 
 with good Nature, to fome one who would 
 be more thankful for them. 
 
 Here "John mentioned Mark Slender, 
 (who, it feems, the Day before, had afk'd 
 'John for 'em) not knowing they were un- 
 der Promife to Trim. ** Come, Trim, 
 
 fays he, let poor Mark have 'em, 
 
 You know he has not a Pair to his 
 
 A : Befides, you fee he is ju ft of my 
 
 Size, and they will fit him to a T ; where- 
 as, if I give 'em to you, — look ye, they 
 
 are 
 
[■9] 
 
 are- not worth much ; and, befides, you 
 could not get your Backlide into them, if 
 you had them, without tearing them all 
 to Pieces." 
 
 Every Tittle of this was moft undoubt- 
 edly true ; for Trim, you muft know, by 
 foul Feeding, and playing the good Fel- 
 low at the Parfon's, was grown fomewhat 
 grofs about the lower Parts, //" ;^^/ higher: 
 So that, as all "John faid upon the Occa- 
 fion was fadt, 'Trim with much ado, and 
 after a hundred Hum's and Hah's, at laft, 
 out of mere compaffion to Mark, JignSy 
 feds and delivers up all iSigl^t, S^nteteft, 
 
 ant! ^retenfion^ toftatfoetoer, m atiD to tl)e 
 faiti %utt^t^ ; tl)ereBp bintiittg ^\^ i^eitie?, 
 €j:ecutor^, ai^trniinifttator^, anti ^(.flisne^, 
 neber more to call t^t faiti Claim in aSue^: 
 ftion* 
 
 All this Renunciation was fet forth in 
 an ample Manner, to be in pure Pity to 
 Mark\ Nakednefs ; — but the Secret was, 
 Trim had an Eye to, and firmly expected 
 in his own Mind, the great Green Pulpit- 
 Cloth and old Velvet Cufhion, which 
 were that very Year to be taken down ; — 
 
 C 2 which 
 
r.o] 
 
 which, by the Bye, could he have wheed- 
 led John a fecond Time out of 'em, as he 
 hoped, he had made up the Lofs of his 
 Breeches Seven-fold. 
 
 Now, you muft know, this Pulpit- 
 Cloth and Cufhion were not in 'John\ 
 Gift, but in the Church- Wardens, Qfr. — 
 However, as I faid above, that 'John was 
 a leading Man in the Pariih, Trim knew 
 he could help him to them if he would : — 
 
 But John had got a Surfeit of him ; 
 
 fo, when the Pulpit-cloth, ^c were ta- 
 ken down, they were immediately given 
 [John having a great fay in it) to William 
 Doe, who underftood very well what Ufe 
 to make of them. 
 
 As for the old Breeches, poor Mark 
 Slender lived to wear them but a fhort 
 Time, and they got into the PofTeffion of 
 Lorry Slim, an unlucky Wight, by whom 
 
 they are ftill worn ; in Truth, as 
 
 you will guefs, they are very thin by this 
 Time: — But Lorry has a light Heart ; and 
 what recommends them to him, is this, 
 that, as thin as they are, he knows that 
 Trim, let him fay what he will to the con- 
 trary, ftill envies the PoJfeJJor of them, — 
 
 and 
 
and, with all his Pride, would be very glad 
 to wear them after him. 
 
 Upon this Footing have thefe Affairs 
 
 flept quietly for near ten Years, and 
 
 would have flept for ever, but for the un- 
 lucky Kicking-Bout ; which, as I faid, 
 has ripp'd this Squabble up afrefh : So 
 that it was no longer than lafl Week, 
 that Trim met and infulted yohn in the 
 public Town- Way, before a hundred 
 People ; — tax'd him with the Promife of 
 the old-caft-Pair-of-black-Breeches, not- 
 withflanding Trim'^ folemn Renunciation; 
 twitted him with the Pulpit-Cloth and 
 Velvet Cufhion, — as good as told him, he 
 was ignorant of the common Duties of his 
 Clerkfhip; adding, very infolently. That 
 he knew not fo much as to give out a 
 common Pfalm in Tune. 
 
 yohn contented himfelf with giving a 
 plain Anfwer to every Article that Trim 
 had laid to his Charge, and appealed to his 
 Neighbours who remembered the whole 
 Affair ; — and as he knew there was never 
 any Thing to be got in wreflling with a 
 
 Chim- 
 
[.. ] 
 
 Chimney-Sweeper, — he was going to take 
 Leave of Trim for ever. — But, hold, — 
 the Mob by this Time had got round 
 them, and their High Might ineffes infifted 
 upon having Trim tried upon the Spot. — 
 Trim vras accordingly tried ; and, after a 
 full Hearing, was convicted afecond Time, 
 and handled more roughly by one or more 
 of them, than even at the Parfon's. 
 
 Trim, fays one, are you not afhamed of 
 yourfelf, to make all this Rout and Di- 
 fturbance in the Town, and fet Neigh- 
 bours together by the Ears, about an old- 
 worn - out - Pair -of- caft - Breeches, not 
 worth Half a Crown ? — Is there a caft- 
 Coat, or a Place in the whole Town, that 
 will bring you in a Shilling, but what you 
 have fnapp*d up, like a greedy Hound as 
 you are? 
 
 ft 
 
 In the firft Place, are you not Sexton 
 and Dog-Whipper, worth Three Pounds 
 a Year ? — Then you begg'd the Church- 
 Wardens to let your Wife have the Waih- 
 ing and Darning of the Surplice and 
 Church-Linen, which brings you in Thir- 
 teen 
 
[^3] 
 
 teen Shillings and Four Pence. — Then you 
 have Six Shillings and Eight Pence for 
 oiling and winding up the Clock, both paid 
 you at Rafter, — The Pinder's Place, which 
 is worth Forty Shillings a Year, — you have 
 got that too. — You are the Bailiff, which the 
 late Parfon got you, which brings you in 
 Forty Shillings more. — Befidesall this,you 
 have Six Pounds a Year, paid you Quarter- 
 ly for being Mole-Catcher to the Pari(h. — 
 Aye, fays the lucklefs Wight above-men- 
 tioned, (who was ftanding clofe to him 
 with his Plufh Breeches on) "You are not 
 only Mole-Catcher, Tritriy but you catch 
 Stray Conies too in the Dark; and you 
 pretend a Licence for it, which, I trow, 
 will be look'd into at the next Quarter Sef- 
 fions." I maintain it, I have a Licence, 
 fays Trimy blufhing as red as Scarlet : — 
 I have a Licence, — and as I farm a War- 
 ren in the next Parifh, I will catch Conies 
 every Hour of the Night. — Tou catch 
 Conies! cries a toothlefs old Woman, who 
 was juft paffing by. 
 
 This fet the Mob a laughing, and fent 
 every Man home in perfect good Humour, 
 
 except 
 
[24] 
 
 except Trim, who waddled very flowly 
 off with that Kind of inflexible Gravity 
 only to be equalled by one Animal in the 
 whole Creation, — and furpaffed by none. 
 I am, 
 
 SIR, 
 
 Tours, &c. &c. 
 
 N I 
 
 5. 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 I Have broke open my Letter to inform 
 you, that I milT'd the Opportunity of 
 fending it by the Meifenger, who I ex- 
 pected would have called upon me in his 
 Return through this Village to Yorky fo it 
 has laid a Week or ten Days by me. 
 
 I am not forry for the Difappoint- 
 
 ment, becaufe Ibmething has fince hap- 
 pened, in Continuation of this Affair, 
 which I am thereby enabled to tranfmit to 
 you, all under one Trouble. 
 
 When I finifhed the above Account, I 
 thought (as did every Soul in the Parifh) 
 T^rim had met with fo thorough a Rebuff 
 from "John the Pariili-Clerk and the 
 Town's Folks, who all took againft him, 
 that Trim would be glad to be quiet, and 
 let the Matter reft. 
 
 But, it feems, it is not half an Hour ago 
 fince T^rim fallied forth again; and, having 
 borrowed a Sow-Gelder*s Horn, with hard 
 Blowing he got the whole Town round 
 him, and endeavoured to raife a Difturb- 
 
 D ance. 
 
[.6] 
 
 ance, and fight the whole Battle over 
 again : — That he had been ufed in the laft 
 Fray worfe than a Dog ; — not by yohn the 
 Parifh-Clerk, — for I fhou'd not, quoth 
 Trim, have valued him a Ruih fingle 
 Hands: — But all the Town fided with him, 
 and twelve Men in Buckram fet upon me 
 all at once, and kept me in Play at Sword's 
 Point for three Hours together. — Befides, 
 quoth Trimy there were two mifbegotten 
 Knaves in Kendal Green, who lay all the 
 while in Ambufh in yohns own Houfe, 
 and they all fixteen came upon my Back, 
 and let drive at me together. — A Plague, 
 fays Trim, of all Cowards! — Tr/;w repeated 
 this Story above a Dozen Times ; — which 
 made fome of the Neigbours pity him, 
 thinking the poor Fellow crack-brain'd, 
 and that he actually believed what he faid. 
 After this Trim dropped the Affair of 
 the Breeches y and begun a frefh Difpute 
 about the Reading-Dejk, which I told you 
 had occafioned fome fmall Difpute be- 
 tween the late Parfon and yohn, fome 
 Years ago. 
 
 This Reading-Dejky as you will obferve, 
 was but an Epifode wove into the main 
 Story by the Bye ; — for the main Affair 
 
 was 
 
[^7] 
 
 was the Battle of the Breeches and Great 
 Watch-Coat, — However, 'Trim being at 
 laft driven out of thefe two Citadels, — he 
 has feized hold, in his Retreat, of this 
 Reading-Dejk, with a View, as it feems, 
 to take Shelter behind it. 
 
 I cannot fay but the man has fought it 
 out obftinately enough ; — and, had his 
 Caufe been good, I fhould have really pi- 
 tied him. For when he was driven out 
 of the Great Watch Coat, — you see, he 
 did not run away ; — no, — he retreated be- 
 hind the Breeches ; — and, when he could 
 make nothing of it behind the Breeches , — 
 he got behind the Reading-Dejk. — To what 
 other Hold Trim will next retreat, the 
 Politicians of this Village are not agreed. — 
 Some think his next Move will be towards 
 the Rear of the Parfon's Boat ; — but, as it 
 is thought he cannot make a long Stand 
 there, — others are of Opinion, That Trim 
 will once more in his Life get hold of the 
 Parfon's Horfe, and charge upon him, or 
 perhaps behind him. — But as the Horfe 
 is not eafy to be caught, the more general 
 Opinion is, That, when he is driven out 
 of the Reading-Dejky he will make his laft 
 Retreat in fuch a Manner as, if poffible, 
 
 Da to 
 
[.8] 
 
 to gain the Clofe-Stool, and defend him- 
 felf behind it to the very laft Drop. If 
 Trim fliould make this Movement, by my 
 Advice he fhould be left befides his Cita- 
 del, in full Poffeffion of the Field of 
 Battle ; — where, 'tis certain, he will keep 
 every Body a League off, and may pop by 
 himfelf till he is weary : Befides, as Trim 
 feems bent upon purging himfelf, and may 
 have Abundance of foul Humours to work 
 off, I think he cannot be better placed. 
 
 But this is all Matter of Speculation. — 
 Let me carry you back to Matter of Fadt, 
 and tell you what Kind of a Stand Trim 
 has adtually made behind the faid Dejk. 
 
 " Neighbours and Townfmen all, I will 
 be fworn before my Lord Mayor, That 
 yohn and his nineteen Men in Buckram, 
 have abufed me worfe than a Dog ; for they 
 told you that I play'd fail and go-loose 
 with the late Parfon and him, in that old 
 Difpute of theirs about the Reading-Dejk ; 
 and that I made Matters worfe between 
 them, and not better." 
 
 Of this Charge, Trim declared he was 
 as innocent as the Child that was unborn : 
 
 That 
 
[^9] 
 
 That he would be Book-fworn he had no 
 Hand in it. He produced a ftrong Wit- 
 nefs ; — and, moreover, infinuated, that 
 'John himfelf, inftead of being angry for 
 what he had done in it, had adiually 
 thank'd him. Aye, Trim, fays the 
 Wight in the Plufh Breeches, but that 
 was, Trirriy the Day before John found 
 thee out. — Befides, Trim, there is nothing 
 in that : — For, the very Year that thou 
 waft made Town's Pinder, thou knoweft 
 well, that I both thank'd thee myfelf ; and, 
 moreover, gave thee a good warm Supper 
 for turning John Lund's Cows and Horfes 
 out of my Hard-Corn Clofe; which if 
 thou had'ft not done, (as thou told'ft me) 
 I fliould have loft my whole Crop: 
 Whereas, John Lund and Thomas Patt, 
 who are both here to teftify, and will take 
 their Oaths on't. That thou thyfelf waft 
 the very Man who fet the Gate open; and, 
 after all, — it was not thee Trim, — 'twas 
 the Blackfmith's poor Lad who turn'd 
 them out : So that a Man may be thank'd 
 and rewarded too for a good Turn which 
 he never did, nor ever did intend. 
 
 Trim could not fuftain this unexpedied 
 Stroke ; — fo Trim march'd off the Field, 
 
 without 
 
[3°] 
 
 without Colours flying, or his Horn found- 
 ing, or any other Enfigns of Honour 
 whatever. 
 
 Whether after this Trim intends to rally 
 a fecond Time, — or whether Trim may 
 not take it into his Head to claim the Vic- 
 tory, — no one but Trim himfelf can in- 
 form you : However, the general Opi- 
 nion, upon the whole, is this, That, 
 
 in three feveral pitched Battles, Trim has 
 been fo trimm'd, as never difaftrous Hero 
 was trimm'd before him. 
 
 The 
 
[3.] 
 
 The key. 
 
 THIS Romance was, by fome Mif- 
 chance or other, dropped in the 
 Minfter 'Tardy York, and pick'd up by a 
 Member of a fmall Political Club in that 
 City ; where it was carried, and publickly 
 read to the Members the laft Club Night. 
 
 It was inftantly agreed to, by a great 
 Majority, That it was a Political Romance ; 
 but concerning what State or Potentate, 
 could not fo eafily be fettled amongfl them. 
 
 The Prefident of the Night, who is 
 thought to be as clear and quick-fighted 
 as any one of the whole Club in Things of 
 this Nature, difcovered plainly, That the 
 Difturbances therein fet forth, related to 
 thofe on the Continent : — That Trim could 
 be Nobody but the King of France, by 
 whofe fhifting and intriguing Behaviour, 
 all Europe was fet together by the Ears : — 
 That Trim'% Wife was certainly the Km- 
 prefsy who are as kind together, fays he, 
 as any Man and Wife can be for their 
 
 Lives. 
 
[3^] 
 
 Lives. — The more Shame for 'em, fays an 
 Alderman, low to himfelf. — Agreeable to 
 this Key, continues the Prefident, — The 
 ParfoUy who I think is a moft excellent 
 Character, — is His Moft Excellent Ma- 
 jefty King George; — yohn, the Parifh- 
 Clerk, is the King of PruJJia ; who, by the 
 Manner of hisfirft entering tS^x^wy, fliew'd 
 the World moft evidently, — That he did 
 know how to lead out the Pfalm, and in 
 Tune and Time too, notwithftanding 
 Trim^s vile Infult upon him in that Parti- 
 cular. — But who do you think, fays a Sur- 
 geon and Man-Midwife, who fat next 
 him, (whofe Coat-Button the Prefident, 
 in the Earneftnefs of this Explanation, had 
 got faft hold of, and had thereby partly 
 drawn him over to his Opinion ) Who do 
 you think, M.^ Prefident, fays he, are 
 meant by the Church- Wardens, Sides- Men, 
 Mark Slender^ Lorry Slim, &c. — Who do 
 I think ? fays he. Why, — Why, Sir, as I 
 take the Thing, — the Church- War dens 
 and Sides-Men, are the EleBors and the 
 other Princes who form the Germanick 
 Body. — And as for the other fubordinate 
 Characters of Mark Slim ? — the unlucky 
 Wight in the Plufti Breeches, — the Parfon*s 
 
 Man 
 
[33] 
 
 Man who was fo often out of the Way, 
 
 &c. &c. these, to be fure are the fe- 
 
 veral Marfhals and Generals, who fought, 
 or fhould have fought, under them the laft 
 Campaign. — The Men in Buckraniy con- 
 tinued the Prefident, are the Grofs of the 
 King of Prujjia'^ Army, who was ^^Jiiff 
 a Body of Men as are in the World : — And 
 Trim'^ faying they were twelve, and then 
 nineteen, is a Wipe for the Brujfels Gazet- 
 teer ^ who, to my Knowledge, was never 
 two Weeks in the fame Story, about that 
 or any thing elfe. 
 
 As for the reft of the Romance , continu- 
 ed the Prefident, it fufficiently explains it- 
 felf, — The Old-caJl-F air-of-Black-PluJh- 
 Breeches muft be Saxony, which the Elec- 
 tor , you fee, has left off wearing \ — And 
 as for the Great Watch-Coat , which, you 
 know, covers all, it fignifies all Europe; 
 comprehending, at leaft, fo many of its 
 different States and Dominions, as we 
 have any Concern with in the prefent 
 War. 
 
 I proteft, fays a Gentleman who fat 
 next but one to the Prefident, and who, it 
 feems, was the Parfon of the Parifh, a 
 
 E Mem- 
 
[3+] 
 
 Member not only of the Political, hut alfo 
 of a Mufical Cluh in the next Street ; — 
 I proteft, fays he, if this Explanation is 
 
 right, which I think it is, That the 
 
 whole makes a very fine Symbol. You 
 
 have always fome Mufical Inftrument or 
 other in your Head, I think, fays the Al- 
 derman. Mufical Inftrument ! replies 
 
 the Parfon, in Aftonifhment, — Mr Alder- 
 man, I mean an Allegory ; and I think the 
 greedy Difpofition of Trim and his Wife, 
 in ripping the Great Watch-Coat to Pieces, 
 in order to convert it into a Petticoat for 
 the one, and a Jerkin for the other, is one 
 of the moft beautiful of the Kind I ever 
 met with ; and will fhew all the World 
 what have been the true Views and Inten- 
 tions of the Houfes of Bourbon and Au- 
 Jirta in this abominable Coalition, — I 
 might have called it Whoredom : — Nay, 
 fays the Alderman, 'tis downright Adul- 
 terydom, or nothing. 
 
 This Hypothefis of the Prefident's ex- 
 plain'd every Thing in the Romance ex- 
 treamly well ; and, withall, was delivered 
 with fo much Readinefs and Air of Cer- 
 tainty, as begot an Opinion in two Thirds 
 of the Club, that Ml Prefident was a6tu- 
 
 ally 
 
[35] 
 
 ally the Author of the Romance himfelf : 
 But a Gentleman who fat on the oppoiite 
 Side of the Table, who had come piping- 
 hot from reading the Hiftory of King Wil- 
 liam'^ and Queen Anne\ Wars, and who 
 was thought, at the Bottom, to envy the 
 Prelident the Honour both of the Romance 
 and Explanation too, gave an entire new 
 Turn to it all. He acquainted the Club, 
 That Mf! Prefident was altogether wrong 
 in every Suppofition he had made, except 
 that one, where the Great Watch-Coat was 
 faid by him to reprefent Europe, or at lead a 
 great Part of it : — So far he acknowledged 
 he was pretty right ; but that he had not 
 gone far enough backwards into our Hif- 
 tory to come at the Truth. He then ac- 
 quainted them, that the dividing the Great 
 Watch-Coat did, and could, allude to no- 
 thing else in the World but the Partition- 
 Treaty ; which, by the Bye, he told them, 
 was the moft unhappy and fcandalous 
 Tranfaction in all King William^ Life: It 
 was that falfe Step, and that only, fays he, 
 rifing from his Chair, and ftriking his Hand 
 upon the Table with great Violence ; it was 
 that falfe Step, fays he, knitting his Brows 
 
 E 2 and 
 
[ 36 ] 
 
 and throwing his Pipe down upon the 
 Ground, that has laid the Foundation of all 
 the Difturbances and Sorrows we feel and 
 lament at this very Hour ; and as for Trim'% 
 giving up the Breeches^ look ye, it is al- 
 moft Word for Word copied from the 
 French King and Dauphin's Renunciation 
 of Spain and the W est- Indies ^ which all the 
 World knew (as was the very Cafe of the 
 Breeches) were renounced by them on pur- 
 pofe to be reclaimed when Time fhould 
 ferve. 
 
 This Explanation had too much Inge- 
 nuity in it to be altogether flighted ; and, 
 in Truth, the worft Fault it had, feem'd to 
 be the prodigious Heat of it ; which (as 
 an Apothecary, who fat next the Fire, ob- 
 ferv'd, in a very low Whifper to his next 
 Neighbour) was fo much incorporated into 
 every Particle of it, that it was impoffible, 
 under fuch Fermentation, it ihould work 
 its defired Effed:. 
 
 This, however, no way intimidated a 
 little valiant Gentleman, though he fat the 
 very next Man, from giving an Opinion as 
 diametrically oppofite as Eaji is from JVeJi, 
 
 This 
 
[37] 
 
 This Gentleman, who was by much the 
 befl: Geographer in the whole Club, and, 
 moreover, fecond Coulin to an Engineer, 
 waspofitive the Breeches meant Gibraltar \ 
 for, if you remember. Gentlemen, fays he, 
 tho' poffibly you don't, the Ichnography 
 and Plan of that Town and Fortrefs, it 
 exad:ly refembles a Pair of Trunk-Hofe, 
 the two Promontories forming the two 
 Slops, &c. &c. — Now wc all know, con- 
 tinued he, that King George the Firft made 
 a Promife of that important Pafs to the 
 King of Spain : — So that the whole Drift 
 of the Romance, according to my Senfe of 
 Things, is merely to vindicate the King 
 and the Parliament in that Tranfadlion, 
 which made fo much Noife in the World. 
 
 A Wholefale Taylor, who from the 
 Beginning had refolved not to fpeak at all 
 in the Debate, — was at laft drawn into it, 
 by fomething very unexpected in the laft 
 Perfon's Argument. 
 
 He told the Company, frankly, he did 
 not underftand what Ichnography meant : 
 
 But as for the Shape of a Pair of 
 
 Breeches, as he had had the Advantage of 
 cutting out fo many hundred Pairs in his 
 
 Life- 
 
[38] 
 
 Life-Time, he hoped he might be allowed 
 to know as much of the Matter as another 
 Man. 
 
 Now, to my Mind, fays he, there is 
 nothing in all the Terraqueous Globe (a 
 Map of which, it feems, hung up in his 
 Work-Shop) fo like a Pair of Breeches 
 unmade up, as the Ifland of Sicily : — Nor 
 is there any thing, if you go to that, quoth 
 an honeft Shoe-maker, who had the Ho- 
 nour to be a Member of the Club, fomuch 
 like a Jack-Boot, to my Fancy, as the 
 Kingdom of Italy. — What the Duce has 
 either Italy or Sicily to do in the Affair? 
 cries the Prefident, who by this Time, 
 began to tremble for his Hypotheiis, — 
 What have they to do ? — Why, anfwered 
 the Partition-Treaty Gentleman, with 
 great Spirit and Joy fparkling in his Eyes, — 
 They have juft fo much. Sir, to do in the 
 Debate as to overthrow your Suppofitions, 
 and to eftablifh the Certainty of mine be- 
 yond the Poffibility of a Doubt : For, fays 
 he, (with an Air of Sovereign Triumph 
 over the Prefident's Politicks) — By the 
 Partition-Treatyy Sir, both Naples and 
 Sicily were the very Kingdoms made to 
 
 devolve 
 
[39] 
 
 devolve upon the Dauphin ; — and Trim's 
 greajing the Parfon's Boots, is a Devilifh 
 Satyrical Stroke ; for it expofes the Cor- 
 ruption and Bribery made Ufe of at that 
 Juncture, in bringing over the feveral 
 States and Princes of Italy to ufe their In- 
 terefls at Rome, to ftop the Pope from gi- 
 ving the Inveftitures of thofe Kingdoms to 
 any Body elfe. — The Pope has not the In- 
 veftiture of Sicily, cries another Gentle- 
 man. — I care not, fays he, for that. 
 
 Almoft every one apprehended the De- 
 bate to be now ended, and that no one 
 Member would venture any new Conjec- 
 ture upon the Romance, after fo many clear 
 and decifi ve Interpretations had been given. 
 
 But, hold, Clofe to the Fire, and op- 
 
 pofite to where the Apothecary fat, there 
 fat alfo a Gentleman of the Law, who, from 
 the Beginning to the End of the Hearing 
 of this Caufe, feem'd no way fatiffied in 
 his Confcience with any one Proceeding in 
 it. This Gentleman had not yet opened 
 his Mouth, but had waited patiently till 
 they had all gone thro' their feveral Evi- 
 dences on the other Side ; — referving him- 
 felf, like an Expert Practitioner, for the 
 laft Word in the Debate. When the 
 
 Par- 
 
Partkion-Treaty-GGntlemzn had finifh'd 
 what he had to fay, — He got up, — and, 
 advancing towards the Table, told them. 
 That the Error they had all gone upon 
 thus far, in making out the feveral Fad:s 
 in the Romance, — was in looking too high; 
 which, with great Candor, he faid, was a 
 very natural Thing, and very excufable 
 withall, in fuch a Political Club as theirs : 
 For Inftance, continues he, you have been 
 fearching the Regijlers, and looking into 
 the Deeds of Kings and Emperors, — as if 
 Nobody had any Deeds to (hew or compare 
 
 the Romance to but themfelves. This, 
 
 continued the Attorney, is just as much 
 out of the Way of good Prad:ice, as if I 
 fhould carry a Thing flap-dafh into the 
 Houfe of Lords, which was under forty 
 Shillings, and might be decided in the next 
 County-Court for fix Shillings and Eight- 
 pence. — He then took the Romance in his 
 Left Hand, and pointing with the Fore- 
 Finger of his Right towards the fecond 
 Page, he humbly begg*d Leave to obferve, 
 (and, to do him Juftice, he did it in fome- 
 what of zforenjic Air) That the Par/on, 
 "John, and Sexton, fhewed inconteftably 
 the Thing to be Tripartite \ now, if you 
 will take Notice, Gentlemen, fays he, 
 
 thefe 
 
[+■] 
 
 thefe feveral Perfons, who are Parties to 
 this Inftrument, are merely Ecclefiaftical ; 
 that the Reading-Dejky Pulpit-Cloth, and 
 Velvet Cii/hmiy are tripartite too; and are, 
 by Intendment of Law, Goods and Chat- 
 ties merely of an Ecclefiaftick Nature, be- 
 longing and appertaining 'only unto them,' 
 and to them only. — So that it appears very 
 plain to me. That the Romance, neither 
 directly nor indired:ly, goes upon Tempo- 
 ral, but altogether upon Church- Matters. 
 — And do not you think, fays he, foften- 
 ing his Voice a little, and addreffing him- 
 felf to the Parfon with a forced Smile, — 
 Do not you think Docftor, fays he. That 
 the Difpute in the Romance, between the 
 Parfon of the Parifh and "John, about the 
 Height of 'John'% Defk, is a very fine Pa- 
 negyrick upon the Hu??iility of Church- 
 Men ? — I think, fays the Parfon, it is 
 much of the fame Finenefs with that which 
 your Profeffion is complimented with, in 
 the pimping, dirty, pettyfogging Charad:er 
 of Trim, — which, in my Opinion, Sir, is 
 juft fuch another Panegyrick upon the 
 Honejiy oiAttornies. 
 
 Nothing whets the Spirits like an In- 
 fult : — Therefore the Parfon went on with 
 
 F a 
 
[4^1 
 
 a vifible Superiority and an uncommon 
 Acutenefs. — As you are fo happy, Sir, 
 continues he, in making Applications, — 
 pray turn over a Page or two to the black 
 Law-Letters in the Romance. — What do 
 you think of them. Sir ? — Nay, — pray 
 read the Grant of the Great Watch-Coat — 
 and Trim's Renunciation of the 5r£'^rZ>^j', — 
 Why, there is downright JleafC andlfleleafc 
 for you, — 'tis the very Thing, Man ; — 
 only with this fmall Difference, — and in 
 which confifts the whole Strength of the 
 
 Panegyric, That the Author of the 
 
 Romance has conveyed and re-convey*d in 
 about ten Lines, — what you, with the glo- 
 rious Prolixity of the Law, could not have 
 crowded into as many Skins of Parch- 
 ment. 
 
 The Apothecary, who had paid the At- 
 torney, the fame Afternoon, a Demand of 
 Three Pounds Six Shillings and Eight- 
 Pence, for much fuch another Jobb, — 
 was fo highly tickled with the Parfon's 
 Repartee in that particular Point, that 
 he rubb'd his Hands together moft fer- 
 vently, — and laugh'd moft triumphantly 
 thereupon. 
 
 This 
 
[43] 
 
 This could not efcape the Attorney's 
 Notice, any more than the Caufe of it did 
 efcape his Penetration. 
 
 I think, Sir, fays he (dropping his Voice 
 a Third) you might well have fpared this 
 immoderate Mirth, fince you and your 
 Profeffion have the leaft Reafon to tri- 
 umph here of any of us. — I beg, quoth 
 he, that you would refled: a Moment up- 
 on the Cob- Web which Trim went fo far 
 for, and brought back with an Air of fo 
 much Importance in his Breeches Pocket, 
 to lay upon the Parfon's cut Finger. — 
 This faid Cob-Web, Sir, is a fine-fpun 
 Satyre, upon the flimfy Nature of one 
 Half of the Shop Medicines, with which 
 you make a Property of the Sick, the Ig- 
 norant, and the Unfufpediing. — And as 
 for the Moral of the Clofe-Stool-Pan, Sir, 
 *t is too plain, — Does not nine Parts in 
 ten of the whole Practice, and of all you 
 vend under its Colours, pafs into and con- 
 center in that one nafty Utenfil } — And 
 let me tell you. Sir, fays he, raifing his 
 Voice, — had not your unfeafonable Mirth 
 blinded you, you might have feen that 
 Trim's carrying the Clofe-Stool-Pan upon 
 his Head the whole Length of the Town, 
 
 F 2 without 
 
[44] 
 
 without blufhing, is a pointed Raillery, — 
 and one of the iliarpeft Sarcafms, Sir, that 
 ever was thrown out upon you ; — for it 
 unveils the folemn Impudence of the whole 
 Profeffion, who, I fee, are aihamed of no- 
 thing which brings in Money. 
 
 There were two Apothecaries in the 
 Club, befides the Surgeon mentioned be- 
 fore, with a chemift and an Undertaker, 
 who all felt themfelves equally hurt and 
 aggrieved by this difcourteous Retort : — 
 And they were all five rifing up together 
 from their Chairs, with full Intent of Heart, 
 as it was thought, to return the Reproof Va- 
 liant thereupon. — But the Prefident, fear- 
 ing it would end in a general Engagement, 
 he inftantly caird out, To Order; — and 
 gave Notice, That if there was any Member 
 in the Club, who had not yet fpoke, and 
 yet did defire to fpeak upon the main Sub- 
 ject of the Debate, — that he fhould im- 
 mediately be heard. 
 
 This was a happy Invitation for a ftam- 
 mering Member, who, it feems, had but a 
 weak Voice at the beft; and having often 
 attempted to fpeak in the Debate, but to 
 
 no 
 
[45] 
 
 no Purpofe, had fat down in utter Defpair 
 of an Opportunity. 
 
 This Member, you muft know, had got 
 a fad Crufh upon his Hip, in the late 
 RleBion, which gave him intolerable An- 
 guifli ; — fo that, in fhort, he could think 
 of nothing elfe : — For which Caufe, and 
 others, he was ftrongly of Opinion, That 
 the whole Romance was a juft Gird at the 
 late York Elediion ; and I think, fays he, 
 that the Promife of the Breeches broke, 
 may well and truly lignify Somebody's elfe 
 Promife, which was broke, and occafion'd 
 fo much Difturbance amongft us. 
 
 Thus every Man turn'd the Story 
 
 to what was fwimming uppermoft in his 
 own Brain ; — fo that, before all was over, 
 there were full as many Satyres fpun out 
 of it, — and as great a Variety of Perfon- 
 ages. Opinions, Tranfadiions, and Truths, 
 found to lay hid under the dark Veil of its 
 Allegory, as ever were difcovered in the 
 thrice-renowned Hiftory of the A6ts of 
 Gargantua and Pantagruel. 
 
 At the Clofe of all, and juft before the 
 Club was going to break up, — Ml" Prefi- 
 
 dent 
 
[46] 
 
 dent rofe from his Chair, and begg'd Leave 
 to make the two following Motions, which 
 were inftantly agreed to, without any 
 Divifion. 
 
 F/r/?, Gentlemen, fays he, as Trtm'^ 
 Characfter in the Romance, of a fhuffling 
 intriguing Fellow, — whoever it was drawn 
 for, is, in Truth, as like the French King 
 as it can ftare, I move. That the Ro- 
 mance be forthwith printed: For, conti- 
 nues he, if we can but once turn the 
 Laugh againft him, and make him aiham'd 
 of what he has done, it may be a great 
 Means, with the BlefRng of God upon our 
 Fleets and Armies, to fave the Liberties of 
 Europe, 
 
 In the fecond Place, I move. That 
 Mr Attorney, our worthy Member, be 
 deiired to take Minutes, upon the Spot, of 
 every Conjed:ure which has been made 
 upon the Romance y by the feveral Mem- 
 bers who have fpoke ; which, I think, 
 fays he, will anfwer two good Ends : 
 
 lA It will eftablifli the Political Know- 
 ledge of our Club for ever, and place it in 
 a refpediable Light to all the World. 
 
 In 
 
[4-7] 
 
 In the next Place, it will furnifli what 
 will be wanted; that is, a Key to the Ro- 
 mance. In troth you might have faid a 
 
 whole Bunch of Keys, quoth a White- 
 fmith, who was the only Member in the 
 Club who had not faid fomething in the 
 Debate : But let me tell you, Mr. Preii- 
 dent, fays he, That the Right Key, if it 
 could but be found, would be worth the 
 whole Bunch put together. 
 
 To 
 
[49] 
 To , Efq; 
 
 of Y ORK. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 YOU write me Word that the Letter 
 I wrote to you, and now ftiled Tie 
 Political Ro?nance is printing ; and that, 
 as it was drop'd by Careleffnefs, to make 
 fome Amends, you will overlook the 
 Printing of it yourfelf, and take Care to 
 fee that it comes right into the World. 
 
 I was juft going to return you Thanks, 
 and to beg, withal, you would take Care 
 That the Child be not laid at my Door. — 
 But having, this Moment, perufed the 
 Reply to the Dean of York'^ Anfwer, — it 
 has made me alter my Mind in that re- 
 fped: ; fo that, inftead of making you the 
 Requeft I intended, I do here defire That 
 the Child be filiated upon me, Laurence 
 Sterne, Prebendary of York, &c. &c. And 
 I do, accordingly, own it for my own true 
 and lawful Offfpring. 
 
 My Reafon for this is plain ; — for as, 
 you fee, the Writer of that Reply, has ta- 
 ken upon him to invade this incontejled 
 
 G Right 
 
[50] 
 
 Right of another Man's in a Thing of this 
 Kind, it is high Time for every Man to 
 look to his own — Since, upon the fame 
 Grounds, and with half the Degree of An- 
 ger, that he affirms the Production of that 
 very Reverend Gentleman's to be the Child 
 of many Fathers, fome one in his Spight 
 (for I am not without my Friends of that 
 Stamp) may run headlong into the other 
 Extream, and fwear, That mine had no 
 Father at all : — And therefore, to make 
 ufe of Bay\ Plea in the Rehearfal, for 
 Prince Pretty-Man ; I merely do it, as 
 he fays, **for fear it fhould be faid to be 
 " no Body's Child at all." 
 
 I have only to add two Things : — Firft, 
 That, at your Peril, you do not prefume 
 to alter or tranfpofe one Word, nor redtify 
 one falfe Spelling, nor fo much as add or 
 diminifli one Comma or Tittle, in or to my 
 Romafice : For if you do, — In cafe any 
 of the Defcendents of Cur/ fhould think 
 fit to invade my Copy-Right, and print it 
 over again in my Teeth, I may not be able, 
 in a Court of Juftice, to fwear ftridlly 
 to my own Child, after you hadyi large 
 a Share in the begetting it. 
 
 In 
 
[5-] 
 
 In the next Place, I do not approve of 
 your quaint Conceit at the Foot of the 
 Title Page of my Romance, — It would 
 only fet People on fmiling a Page or two 
 before I give them Leave ; — and befides, 
 all Attempts either at Wit or Humour, 
 in that Place, are a Foreftalling of what 
 flender Entertainment of thofe Kinds are 
 prepared within : Therefore I would have 
 it ftand thus: 
 
 r O R K: 
 
 Printed in the Year 1759. 
 [Price One Shilling,) 
 
 I know you will tell me. That it is fet 
 too high; and as a Proof, you will fay, 
 That this laft Reply to the Dean's, Anfwer 
 does confift of near as many Pages as mine; 
 and yet is all fold for Six-pence. — But 
 mine, my dear Friend, is quite a different 
 Story : — It is a Web wrought out of my 
 own Brain, of twice the Finenefs of this 
 which he has fpun out of his ; and befides, 
 I maintain it, it is of a more curious Pat- 
 tern, and could not be afforded at the 
 Price that his is fold at, by any ionejl 
 Workman in Great- Britain, 
 
 G 2 More- 
 
Moreover, Sir, you do not confider, 
 That the Writer is interefted in his Story, 
 and that it is his Bufinefs to fet it a-going 
 at any Price : And indeed, from the Infor- 
 mation of Perfons converfant in Paper and 
 Print, I have very good Reafon to believe, 
 if he ihould fell every Pamphlet of them, 
 he would inevitably be a Great Lofer by it, 
 This I believe verily, and am. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Tour obliged Friend 
 
 Sutton on the Foreft, 
 
 Jan. 20, 1759. and humble Servant ^ 
 
 LAURENCE STERNE. 
 
 ro 
 
[53] 
 ro Dr. TO? HAM. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 THOUGH the Repfy to the Dean of 
 Tork is not declared, in the Tit/e- 
 Page, or elfewhere, to be wrote by you, 
 
 — Yet I take that Point for granted ; and 
 therefore beg Leave, in this public Man- 
 ner, to write to you in Behalf of myfelf ; 
 with Intent to fet you right in two Points 
 where I ftand concerned in this Affair; and 
 which I find you have mifapprehended, and 
 confequently (as I hope) mifreprefented. 
 
 The Firji is, in refpe6t of fome Words, 
 made ufe of in the Inftrument, iigned by 
 D^ Herring y M^ Berdmore and myfelf. 
 
 — Namely, to the bejl of our Remembrance 
 and Belief, which Words you have caught 
 hold of, as implying fome Abatement of 
 our Certainty as to the Fad:s therein at- 
 tefted. Whether it was fo with the other 
 two Gentlemen who iigned that Attefta- 
 tion with me, it is not for me to fay ; they 
 are able to anfwer for themfelves, and I de- 
 iire to do fo for myfelf; and therefore I de- 
 clare to you, and to all Mankind, " That 
 "the Words in the firft Paragraph, to the 
 
 ^^hejl 
 
[54] 
 
 ^^ bejl of our Remembrance and Belief, im- 
 plied no Doubt remaining upon my Mind, 
 nor any Diftruft whatever of my Memo- 
 ry, from the Diftance of Time ; — Nor, in 
 fhort, was it my Intention to atteft the 
 feveral Facets therein, as matters of Be- 
 lief — But as Matters of as much Certain- 
 ty as a Man was capable of having, or gi- 
 ving Evidence to. In Confequence of this 
 Explanation of myfelf, I do declare my- 
 felf ready to atteft the fame Inftrument 
 over again, ftriking out the words to the 
 heft of our Remembrance and Beliefs which 
 I fee, have raifed this Exception to it. 
 
 Whether I was miftaken or no, I leave 
 to better Judges ; but I under flood thofe 
 Words were a very common Preamble to 
 Atteflations of Things, to which we bore 
 the clearefl Evidence : — However, DF 
 Topham^ as you have claimed juft fuch 
 another Indulgence yourfelf, in the Cafe of 
 begging the Deans, Authority to fay, what, 
 as you affirm, you had fufficient Autho- 
 rity to fay without, as a modefl and Gen- 
 tleman-like Way of Affirmation ; — I wifh 
 you had fpared either the one or the other 
 of your Remarks upon thefe two Paflages: 
 — Veniam petimus, demufque vicijji?n. 
 
 There 
 
There is another Obfervation relating to 
 this Inftrument, which I perceive has 
 efcaped your Notice; which I take the 
 Liberty to point out to you, namely, That 
 the Words, To the beji of our Remembrance 
 and Belief if they imply any Abatement 
 of Certainty, feem only confined to that 
 Paragraph, and to what is immediately at- 
 tefted after them in it : — For in the fecond 
 Paragraph, wherein the main Points are 
 minutely attefted, and upon which the 
 w^hole Difpute, and main Charge againft 
 the Dean, turns, it is introduced thus : 
 
 " JVe do particularly remember. That as 
 " foon as Dinner was over, ^c '' 
 
 In the fecond Place you affirm, " That 
 " it is not faid, That Mf Sterne could 
 " affirm he had heard you charge the 
 " Dean with a Promife, in its own Na- 
 " ture fo very extraordinary, as of the 
 " Commifi^aryfhip of the Dean and Chap- 
 
 " ter!" To this I anfwer, that my 
 
 true Intent in fubfcribing that very In- 
 ftrument, and I fuppofe of others, was to 
 atteft this very Thing ; and I have juft now 
 read that Part of the Inftrument over; 
 and cannot, for my Life, affirm it either 
 more diredtly or exprefly, than in the 
 
 Words 
 
[56] 
 
 Words as they there ftand ; — therefore 
 pleafe to let me tranfcribe them. 
 
 " But being preff'd by M^ Sterne 
 
 " with an undeniable Proof, That he, 
 " (D^ Topham) did propagate the faid 
 ** Story, (viz: of a Promife from the Dean 
 " to Dr Topham of the Dean and Chap- 
 " ter's Commijfaryjhip) — D^ Topham did 
 " at laft acknowledge it ; adding, as his 
 " Reafon or Excufe for fo doing. That he 
 " apprehended (or Words to that Effedl) 
 " he had a Promife under the Dean's own 
 " Handy of the Dean and Chapter's Com- 
 " mijfaryjhip" 
 
 This I have attefted, and what Weight 
 the Sand:ion of an Oath will add to it, I 
 am willing and ready to give. 
 
 As for M^ Ricard's feeble Atteftation, 
 brought to fhake the Credit of this firm 
 and folemn one, I have nothing to fay to it, 
 as it is only an Atteftation of M^ Ricard's 
 Conjedlures upon the Subjedt. — But this I 
 can fay. That I had the Honour to be at 
 the Deanery with the learned Counfel, 
 when M^ Ricard underwent that mojt 
 formidable Examination you fpeak of; — 
 
 and 
 
[57] 
 
 and I folemnly affirm, That he then faid, 
 He knew nothing at all about the Matter, 
 one Way or the other; and the Reafons 
 he gave for his utter Ignorance, were, firft, 
 That he was then fo full of Concern, at 
 the Difference which arofe between two 
 Gentlemen, both his Friends, that he did 
 not attend to the Subjed: Matter of it, — 
 and of which he declared again he knew 
 nothing at all. And fecondly. If he had 
 underftood it then, the Diftance would 
 have put it out of his Head by this Time. 
 
 He has fince fcower'd his Memory, I 
 ween ; for now he fays. That he appre- 
 hended the Difpute regarded fomething in 
 the Dean's Gift, as he could not naturally 
 fuppofe, &c. *Tis certain, at the Deanery, 
 he had naturally no Suppofitions in his 
 Head about this Affair ; fo that I wifh this 
 may not prove one of the After-Thoughts 
 you fpeak of, and not fo much a natural 
 as an artificial Suppofition of my good 
 Friend's. 
 
 As for the formidable Enquiry you re- 
 prefent him as undergoing, — let me intreat 
 you to give me Credit in what I fay upon 
 it, — namely, — That it was as much the 
 
 H Re- 
 
[S8 1 
 
 Reverfe to every Idea that ever v^as 
 couch'd under that Word, as Words can 
 reprefent it to you. As for the learned 
 Counfel and myfelf, v^ho were in the 
 Room all the Time, I do not remember 
 that w^e, either of us, fpoke ten Words. 
 The Deanvi^as the only one that afk'd Mr. 
 Ricard what he remembered about the 
 Affair of the Seffions Dinner ; which he 
 did in the moft Gentleman-like and candid 
 Manner, — and with an Air of as much 
 Calmnefs and feeming Indifference, as if 
 he had been queftioning him about the 
 News in the laft Brujfels Gazette. 
 
 What Mr. Ricard faw to terrify him fo 
 fadly, I cannot apprehend, unlefs the 
 Dean's Gothic Book-Cafe, — which I own 
 has an odd Appearance to a Stranger ; 
 fo that if he came terrified in his Mind 
 there, and with a Refolution not to plead, 
 he might naturally fuppofe it to be a great 
 Engine brought there on purpofe to exer- 
 cife the Peine fort et dure upon him. — 
 But to be ferious ; if Mr. Ricard told you, 
 That this Enquiry was mojl formidable. 
 He was much to blame ; — and if you have 
 faid it, without his exprefs Information, 
 then You are much to blame. 
 
 This 
 
[59] 
 
 This is all, I think, in your Reply, which 
 concerns me to anfwer : — As for the many 
 coarfe and unchriftian Inlinuationsfcatter'd 
 throughout your Reply, — as it is my Duty 
 to beg God to forgive you, fo I do from 
 my Heart: Believe me, Dr Topham, they 
 hurt yourfelf more than the Perfon they 
 are aimed at ; and when th^ firji Tranf- 
 port of Rage is a little over, they will 
 grieve you more too. 
 
 prima eji hcec Ultio. 
 
 But thefe I hold to be no anfwerable Part 
 of a Controverfy ; — and for the little that 
 remains unanfwered in yours, — I believe I 
 could, in another half Hour, fet it right 
 in the Eyes of the World. — But this is 
 not my Bufmefs. — And if it is thought 
 worth the while, which I hope it never 
 will, I know no one more able to do it 
 than the very Reverend and Worthy Gen- 
 tleman whom you have fo unhandfomely 
 infulted upon that Score. 
 
 As for the fuppofed Compilers, whom 
 you have been fo wrath and fo unmerciful 
 againft, I '11 be anfwerable for it, as they 
 are Creatures of your own Fancy, they 
 will bear you no Malice. However, I 
 
 H 2 think 
 
[6o] 
 
 think the more poiitively any Charge is 
 made, let it be againft whom it will, the 
 better it fhould be fupported ; and there- 
 fore I fhould be forry, for your own Ho- 
 nour, if you have not fome better Grounds 
 for all you have thrown out about them, 
 than the mere Heat of your Imagination 
 or Anger. To tell you truly, your Suppo- 
 litions on this Head oft put me in Mind of 
 Trirrf^ twelve Men in Buckram, which his 
 difordered Fancy reprefented as laying in 
 Ambufh in yohn the Clerk's Houfe, and 
 letting drive at him all together. I am, 
 SIR 
 
 Tour moji obedient 
 
 Sutton on the Foreft ] 
 
 Jan. 20, 1759. ) And moJi humble Servant, 
 
 LAWRENCE STERNE. 
 
 P. S. I beg Pardon for clapping this upon 
 the Back of the Romance, — which is done 
 out of no Difrefped: to you. — But the Ve- 
 hicle flood ready at the Door, — and as I 
 was to pay the whole Fare, and there was 
 Room enough behind it, — it was the 
 cheapefl and readieft Conveyance I could 
 think of. 
 
 FINIS, 
 
One hundred and twenty-five copies printed 
 for The Club of Odd Volumes, Boston^ 
 in the month of October^ I9I4« 
 
 BRUCE ROGERS. 
 
Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
 Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
 Treatment Date: March 2009 
 
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