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  IMPARA L'INGLESE CON BABYLON!
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LIST OF CHAPTERS
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A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

by Laurence Sterne • Copyright note

We thank The Gutenberg Projekt for this public domain version - Complete text in one page

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-and bid adieu.


IN THE STREET. CALAIS.


I never finished a twelve guinea bargain so expeditiously in my
life: my time seemed heavy, upon the loss of the lady, and knowing
every moment of it would be as two, till I put myself into motion,-
-I ordered post horses directly, and walked towards the hotel.

Lord! said I, hearing the town clock strike four, and recollecting
that I had been little more than a single hour in Calais, -

- What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within this
little span of life by him who interests his heart in every thing,
and who, having eyes to see what time and chance are perpetually
holding out to him as he journeyeth on his way, misses nothing he
can FAIRLY lay his hands on!

- If this won't turn out something,--another will;--no matter,--
'tis an assay upon human nature--I get my labour for my pains,--
'tis enough;--the pleasure of the experiment has kept my senses and
the best part of my blood awake, and laid the gross to sleep.

I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, 'Tis
all barren;--and so it is: and so is all the world to him who will
not cultivate the fruits it offers. I declare, said I, clapping my
hands cheerily together, that were I in a desert, I would find out
wherewith in it to call forth my affections: --if I could not do
better, I would fasten them upon some sweet myrtle, or seek some
melancholy cypress to connect myself to;--I would court their
shade, and greet them kindly for their protection.--I would cut my
name upon them, and swear they were the loveliest trees throughout
the desert: if their leaves wither'd, I would teach myself to
mourn; and, when they rejoiced, I would rejoice along with them.

The learned Smelfungus travelled from Boulogne to Paris,--from
Paris to Rome,--and so on;--but he set out with the spleen and
jaundice, and every object he pass'd by was discoloured or
distorted.--He wrote an account of them, but 'twas nothing but the
account of his miserable feelings.

I met Smelfungus in the grand portico of the Pantheon: --he was
just coming out of it.--'TIS NOTHING BUT A HUGE COCKPIT, said he: -
-I wish you had said nothing worse of the Venus of Medicis, replied
I;--for in passing through Florence, I had heard he had fallen foul
upon the goddess, and used her worse than a common strumpet,
without the least provocation in nature.

I popp'd upon Smelfungus again at Turin, in his return home; and a
sad tale of sorrowful adventures had he to tell, "wherein he spoke
of moving accidents by flood and field, and of the cannibals that
each other eat: the Anthropophagi:"--he had been flayed alive, and
bedevil'd, and used worse than St. Bartholomew, at every stage he
had come at. -

- I'll tell it, cried Smelfungus, to the world. You had better
tell it, said I, to your physician.

Mundungus, with an immense fortune, made the whole tour; going on

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