Much of the exhaustion which Sterne
had attributed to the violence of his literary emotions was no doubt
due to the rapid decline of bodily powers which, unknown to him, were
already within a few months of their final collapse. He did not set
out for London on the 20th of December, as he had promised himself,
for on that day he was only just recovering from "an attack of fever
and bleeding at the lungs," which had confined him to his room for
nearly three weeks. "I am worn down to a shadow," he writes on the
23rd, "but as my fever has left me, I set off the latter end of next
week with my friend, Mr. Hall, for town." His home affairs had already
been settled. Early in December it had been arranged that his wife
and daughter should only remain at York during the winter, and should
return to the Continent in the spring. "Mrs. Sterne's health," he
writes, "is insupportable in England. She must return to France, and
justice and humanity forbid me to oppose it." But separation from his
wife meant separation from his daughter; it was this, of course, which
was the really painful parting, and it is to the credit of Sterne's
disinterestedness of affection for Lydia, that in his then state
of health he brought himself to consent to her leaving him.
Pages:
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176