somewhat too visible effect, perhaps, that Sterne forces his way
back into the orthodox routes of pulpit disquisition. The youth,
disappointed with his reception by "the literati," &c., seeks "an
easier society; and as bad company is always ready, and ever lying in
wait, the career is soon finished, and the poor prodigal returns--the
same object of pity with the prodigal in the Gospel." Hardly a good
enough "tag," perhaps, to reconcile the ear to the "And now to," &c.,
as a fitting close to this pointed little essay in the style of the
Chesterfield Letters. There is much internal evidence to show that
this so-called sermon was written either after Sterne's visit to or
during his stay in France; and there is strong reason, I think, to
suppose that it was in reality neither intended for a sermon nor
actually delivered from the pulpit.

No other of his sermons has quite so much vivacity as this. But in
the famous discourse upon an unlucky text--the sermon preached at
the chapel of the English Embassy, in Paris--there are touches of
unclerical raillery not a few. Thus: "What a noise," he exclaims,
"among the simulants of the various virtues!... Behold Humility,
become so out of mere pride; Chastity, never once in harm's way; and
Courage, like a Spanish soldier upon an Italian stage--a bladder full
of wind. Hush! the sound of that trumpet! Let not my soldier run!'
tis some good Christian giving alms. O Pity, thou gentlest of human
passions! soft and tender are thy notes, and ill accord they with so
loud an instrument."

Here, again, is a somewhat bold saying for a divine: "But, to avoid
all commonplace cant as much as I can on this head, I will forbear to
say, because I do not think, that 'tis a breach of Christian charity
to think or speak ill of our neighbour. We cannot avoid it: our