In the second Place, I move, That Mr. Attorney, our worthy Member, be desired to take Minutes, upon the Spot, of every Conjecture which has been made upon the Romance, by the several Members who have spoke; which, I think, says he, will answer two good Ends:
1st, It will establish the Political Knowledge of our Club for ever, and place it in a respectable Light to all the World.
In the next Place, it will furnish what will be wanted; that is, a Key to the Romance.—In troth you might have said a whole Bunch of Keys, quoth a Whitesmith, who was the only Member in the Club who had not said something in the Debate: But let me tell you, Mr. President, says he, That the Right Key, if it could but be found, would be worth the whole Bunch put together.
To – –, Esq; of York.
Sir,
You write me Word that the Letter I wrote to you, and now stiled The Political Romance is printing; and that, as it was drop'd by Carelessness, to make some Amends, you will overlook the Printing of it yourself, and take Care to see that it comes right into the World.
I was just 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, perused the Reply to the Dean of York's Answer,—it has made me alter my Mind in that respect; so that, instead of making you the Request I intended, I do here desire 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 Offspring.
My Reason for this is plain;—for as, you see, the Writer of that Reply, has taken upon him to invade this incontested 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 same Grounds, and with half the Degree of Anger, that he affirms the Production of that very Reverend Gentleman's, to be the Child of many Fathers, some one in his Spight (for I am not without my Friends of that Stamp) may run headlong into the other Extream, and swear, That mine had no Father at all:—And therefore, to make use of Bays's Plea in the Rehearsal, for Prince Pretty-Man; I merely do it, as he says, "for fear it should be said to be no Body's Child at all."
I have only to add two Things:—First, That, at your Peril, you do not presume to alter or transpose one Word, nor rectify one false Spelling, nor so much as add or diminish one Comma or Tittle, in or to my Romance:—For if you do,—In case any of the Descendents of Curl should think fit to invade my Copy-Right, and print it over again in my Teeth, I may not be able, in a Court of Justice, to swear strictly to my own Child, after you had so large a Share in the begetting it.
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 set People on finding a Page or two before I give them Leave;—and besides, all Attempts either at Wit or Humour, in that Place, are a Forestalling of what slender Entertainment of those Kinds are prepared within: Therefore I would have it stand thus:
YORK: Printed in the Year 1759. (Price One Shilling.)
I know you will tell me, That it is set too high; and as a Proof, you will say, That this last Reply to the Dean's Answer does consist of near as many Pages as mine; and yet is all sold 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 Fineness of this which he has spun out of his; and besides, I maintain it, it is of a more curious Pattern, and could not be afforded at the Price that his is sold at, by any honest Workman in Great-Britain.
Moreover, Sir, you do not consider, That the Writer is interested in his Story, and that it is his Business to set it a-going at any Price: And indeed, from the Information of Persons conversant in Paper and Print, I have very good Reason to believe, if he should sell every Pamphlet of them, he would inevitably be a Great Loser by it, This I believe verily, and am,
Dear Sir, Your obliged Friend and humble Servant, LAURENCE STERNE,
Sutton on the Forest, Jan. 20, 1759
To Dr. TOPHAM.
Sir,
Though the Reply to the Dean of York is not declared, in the Title-Page, or elsewhere, to be wrote by you,—Yet I take that Point for granted; and therefore beg Leave, in this public Manner, to write to you in Behalf of myself; with Intent to set you right in two Points where I stand concerned in this Affair; and which I find you have misapprehended, and consequently (as I hope) misrepresented.
The First is, in respect of some Words, made use of in the Instrument, signed by Dr. Herring, Mr. Berdmore and myself.—Namely, "to the best of our Remembrance and Belief"; which Words you have caught hold of, as implying some Abatement of our Certainty as to the Facts therein attested. Whether it was so with the other two Gentlemen who signed that Attestation with me, it is not for me to say; they are able to answer for themselves, and I desire to do so for myself; and therefore I declare to you, and to all Mankind, That the Words in the first Paragraph, "to the best of our Remembrance and Belief", implied no Doubt remaining upon my Mind, nor any Distrust whatever of my Memory, from the Distance of Time;—Nor, in short, was it my Intention to attest the several Facts therein, as Matters of Belief—But as Matters of as much Certainty as a Man was capable of having, or giving Evidence to. In Consequence of this Explanation of myself, I do declare myself ready to attest the same Instrument over again, striking out the Words "to the best of our Remembrance and Belief" which I see, have raised this Exception to it.
Whether I was mistaken or no, I leave to better Judges; but I understood those Words were a very common Preamble to Attestations of Things, to which we bore the clearest Evidence;—However, Dr. Topham, as you have claimed just such another Indulgence yourself, in the Case of begging the Dean's Authority to say, what, as you affirm, you had sufficient Authority to say without, as a modest and Gentleman-like Way of Affirmation;—I wish you had spared either the one or the other of your Remarks upon these two Passages:
–Veniam petimus, demusque vicissim.
There is another Observation relating to this Instrument, which I perceive has escaped your Notice; which I take the Liberty to point out to you, namely, That the Words, "To the best of our Remembrance and Belief", if they imply any Abatement of Certainty, seem only confined to that Paragraph, and to what is immediately attested after them in it:– For in the second Paragraph, wherein the main Points are minutely attested, and upon which the whole Dispute, and main Charge against the Dean, turns, it is introduced thus:
"We do particularly remember, That as soon as Dinner was over, &c."
In the second Place you affirm, "That it is not Paid, That Mr. Sterne could affirm he had heard you charge the Dean with a Promise, in its own Nature so very extraordinary, as of the Commissaryship of the Dean and Chapter":—To this I answer, That my true Intent in subscribing that very instrument, and I suppose of others, was to attest this very Thing; and I have just now read that Part of the Instrument over; and cannot, for my Life, affirm it either more directly or expresly, than in the Words as they there stand;—therefore please to let me transcribe them.
"But being press'd by Mr. Sterne with an undeniable Proof, That he, (Dr. Topham) did propagate the said Story, (viz: of a Promise from the Dean to Dr. Topham of the Dean and Chapter's Commissaryship)—Dr. Topham did at last acknowledge it; adding, as his Reason or Excuse for so doing, That he apprehended (or Words to that Effect) he had a Promise under the Dean's own Hand, of the Dean and Chapter's Commissaryship."
This I have attested, and what Weight the Sanction of an Oath will add to it, I am willing and ready to give.
As for Mr. Ricard's feeble Attestation, brought to shake the Credit of this firm and solemn one, I have nothing to say to it, as it is only an Attestation of Mr. Ricard's Conjectures upon the Subject.—But this I can say, That I had the Honour to be at the Deanery with the learned Counsel, when Mr. Ricard underwent that most formidable Examination you speak of,—and I solemnly affirm, That he then said, He knew nothing at all about the Matter, one Way or the other; and the Reasons he gave for his utter Ignorance, were, first, That he was then so full of Concern, at the Difference which arose between two Gentlemen, both his Friends, that he did not attend to the Subject Matter of it,—and of which he declared again he knew nothing at all. And secondly, If he had understood it then, the Distance would have put it out of his Head by this Time.
He has since scower'd his Memory, I ween; for now he says, That he apprehended the Dispute regarded something in the Dean's Gift, as he could not naturally suppose, &c. 'Tis certain, at the Deanery, he had naturally no Suppositions in his Head about this Affair; so that I with this may not prove one of the After-Thoughts you speak of, and not so much a natural as an artificial Supposition of my good Friend's.
As for the formidable Enquiry you represent him as undergoing,—let me intreat you to give me Credit in what I say upon it,—namely,—That it was as much the Reverse to every Idea that ever was couch'd under that Word, as Words can represent it to you. As for the learned Counsel and myself, who were in the Room all the Time, I do not remember that we, either of us, spoke ten Words. The Dean was the only one that ask'd Mr. Ricard what he remembered about the Affair of the Sessions Dinner; which he did in the most Gentleman-like and candid Manner,—and with an Air of as much Calmness and seeming Indifference, as if he had been questioning him about the News in the last Brussels Gazette.
What Mr. Ricard saw to terrify him so sadly, I cannot apprehend, unless the Dean's Gothic Book-Case,—which I own has an odd Appearance to a Stranger; so that if he came terrified in his Mind there, and with a Resolution not to plead, he might naturally suppose it to be a great Engine brought there on purpose to exercise the Peine fort et dure upon him.—But to be serious; if Mr. Ricard told you, That this Enquiry was most formidable, He was much to blame;—and if you have said it, without his express Information, then You are much to blame.
This is all, I think, in your Reply, which concerns me to answer:—As for the many coarse and unchristian Insinuations scatter'd throughout your Reply,—as it is my Duty to beg God to forgive you, so I do from my Heart: Believe me, Dr. Topham, they hurt yourself more than the Person they are aimed at; and when the first Transport of Rage is a little over, they will grieve you more too.