In the opening pages of A Sentimental Journey, Sterne lavishes a series of elaborate metaphors on his description of travel, elevating his travel writing to something more like travel philosophy. In one, he compares a traveler to a man who brought celebrated French wine grapes to South Africa in the hopes of making wine there:
The man who first transplanted the grape of Burgundy to the Cape of Good Hope (observe he was a Dutch man) never dreamt of drinking the same wine at the Cape, that the same grape produced upon the French mountains—he was too phlegmatic for that—but undoubtedly he expected to drink some sort of vinous liquor; but whether good, bad, or indifferent—he knew enough of this world to know, that it did not depend upon his choice, but that what is generally called chance was to decide his success: however, he hoped for the best […]
While this man couldn’t hope to drink a proper Burgundy at the Cape of Good Hope, he could nonetheless be optimistic that something fruitful might come of the exercise. “Even so it fares with the poor Traveller,” Sterne continues, “sailing and posting through the politer kingdoms of the globe in pursuit of knowledge and improvements”: while the traveler may not be able to guarantee themselves the comfort and luxuries of home on their travels, they can nonetheless find themselves forever changed for the better on account of their journey and learning around the world.
This early example of Sterne's worldview sets the tone for the novel—throughout A Sentimental Journey, Sterne takes the time to lay out his case for a philosophy of travel that espouses the virtues of open-mindedness and curiosity.
In Volume 1, when Yorick reaches Amiens, he reflects on his romantic commitment to Eliza. Madame de L—, to whom he has found himself considerably attracted, has invited him to visit her in Brussels, but he resolves to respect his relationship with Eliza. Yorick conveys this deliberation through a lengthy metaphor:
It had ever, as I told the reader, been one of the singular blessings of my life, to be almost every hour of it miserably in love with some one; and my last flame happening to be blown out by a whiff of jealousy on the sudden turn of a corner, I had lighted it up afresh at the pure taper of Eliza but about three months before—swearing as I did it, that it should last me through the whole journey—Why should I dissemble the matter?
According to this metaphor, Yorick as a lover is like a candle—a comparison not without phallic connotations, and typical of Sterne's bawdy sense of humor. Yorick's is a candle continuously relit by new loves, even as it gets continuously "blown out" as various negative emotions, including jealousy, creep up.
Eliza, in this metaphor, is a candle of "pure taper," or a fine and delicate work of wax. She has thus inspired Yorick to declare that she will burn long enough to last him through the "whole journey"—a phrase that contains its own double meaning, as the "journey" can refer both to Yorick's travels through France and his entire life (and, as Sterne tries to make clear, Yorick's travels are a representation of and reflection on human life and the human condition).
In Volume 1, Yorick at last arrives in Paris. Almost immediately, he is overwhelmed by the splendor of the city and, more importantly, the splendor of its citizens. In a passage laden with color imagery and metaphor—and no shortage of euphemism—Yorick laments the flamboyance of his new surroundings:
I walked up gravely to the window in my dusty black coat, and looking through the glass saw all the world in yellow, blue, and green, running at the ring of pleasure.—The old with broken lances, and in helmets which had lost their vizards—the young in armour bright which shone like gold, beplumed with each gay feather of the east—all—all tilting at it like fascinated knights in tournaments of yore for fame and love.—
Generally, this passage makes use of the metaphor of chivalric competition as a way to talk about sex and sexual competition: jousting stands in for intercourse ("running at the ring of pleasure"), with the "broken lances" of the old knights representing their impotence. What's more, Sterne underscores the vividness of this scene for Yorick through the use of visual imagery—Yorick, in his dull, old black coat, contrasts with the colorful world beyond the window, full of knights in shining armor and their bright feathers.
Although Sterne may have been a clergyman, A Sentimental Journey is full of bawdy references like the ones made above—and Sterne devotes much of the novel to an exploration of the way human sexuality affects human behavior.
In Volume 2, as the novel draws to a close, Sterne's larger reflection on travel continues. He conveys his philosophy of travel, as usual, in a slew of literary devices. In the following passage, he uses a combination of metaphor and personification:
THE man who either disdains or fears to walk up a dark entry may be an excellent good man, and fit for a hundred things; but he will not do to make a good sentimental traveller. I count little of the many things I see pass at broad noon day, in large and open streets.—Nature is shy, and hates to act before spectators; but in such an unobserved corner, you sometimes see a single short scene of her’s worth all the sentiments of a dozen French plays compounded together—
Traveling, to Sterne, is metaphorically like walking up to a dark doorway or down a dark alley—if one hopes to be a good traveler, they must be ready for unpredictable new experiences, and he suggests that the faint of heart will not do well.
Personifying nature and employing a new metaphorical comparison between nature and theater, Sterne continues by offering that any traveler who expects to find an easy “show” in their travels will be sorely disappointed—but the attentive, careful traveler, brave enough to approach the dark entries of the world, will find Nature ready to perform 12 plays’ worth of spectacles waiting for them.
In Volume 2, Yorick breaks out into the world of Parisian high society with the help of Count de B****. The Count introduces Yorick to a host of the French elite, all of whom are subject to Yorick's humorous and satirical characterizations. When he meets Madame de V***, he describes her in metaphorical language:
I told Madame de V*** it might be her principle; but I was sure it could not be her interest to level the outworks, without which I could not conceive how such a citadel as hers could be defended—that there was not a more dangerous thing in the world, than for a beauty to be a deist.
In this metaphor, Madame V*** is a citadel that has left itself dangerously undefended—it has leveled its "outworks," or fortifications. Yorick's argument is that organized religion, which V*** has disavowed, functions as additional defense against the dangers of sexuality. In Yorick's view, this is a precarious situation for a woman and one of which men would likely take advantage.
The tension between human sexuality and notions of virtue—especially Christian virtue—is a major theme in A Sentimental Journey, explored at length through Yorick's travels in France. Yorick's many observations on the subject are rife with irony and satire, given that such self-righteous notions of virtue are so often hypocritical. This is demonstrated in this very scene: Madame V*** appreciates Yorick's comments on religion and sex, but only because they appeal to her beauty—and, therefore, her sexuality.
In Volume 2, Count de B**** calls upon Yorick to give his honest assessment of the French people based upon his travels through the country. In a combination of metaphor and simile, Yorick offers his impression—and compares the French to the English:
See, Mons. Le Compte, said I […] —by jingling and rubbing one against another for seventy years together in one body’s pocket or another’s, they are become so much alike, you can scarce distinguish one shilling from another.
The English, like antient medals, kept more apart, and passing but few peoples hands, preserve the first sharpnesses which the fine hand of nature has given them—they are not so pleasant to feel—but in return, the legend is so visible, that at the first look you see whose image and superscription they bear.
In this metaphor, the French are like shillings—common coins that, after years of handling, have become more or less identical. The English, on the other hand, are like medals—well-preserved and distinct in their individuality, if slightly unpleasant to handle. Yorick's argument appears to be that social interaction, in the manner of the French, is liable to make one lose one's identity.
The tension between national and personal identity is a major theme in A Sentimental Journey, and Yorick makes many comparisons between the distinct French and English cultures throughout the novel—a particularly pressing concern, given the larger historical context of the Seven Years' War fought between France and England at the time of Sterne's writing.
In Volume 2 of A Sentimental Journey, Yorick finds himself in crisis as he realizes his voyage to France—without a passport—could land him in prison. As he contemplates the possibility of being thrown in the Bastille, a notorious French prison, Yorick finds a starling trapped in a cage at his hotel—unable to free the bird, he reflects on the horrors of slavery and incarceration through metaphor:
Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still slavery! said I—still thou art a bitter draught; and though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account.
Yorick's metaphor compares incarceration to a “bitter draught,” or a terrible thing to stomach. He acknowledges that countless people through history have had to "drink" this concoction, but—despite this omnipresence of slavery—it has not become any more pleasant. Up to this point, Yorick has been unable to appreciate the gravity of his situation—it is his empathy for the starling that finally reveals to him the dire nature of the imprisonment he may face.
In England, at the time that Sterne wrote A Sentimental Journey, a debate raged about the future of slavery in England and its colonies (which was legal at the time). As Yorick takes a stand against slavery in the novel, Sterne is taking a stand as an abolitionist for his peers and country. As he will continue to argue through his exploration of sentimentality, people are best suited to appreciate and empathize with humanity when they can focus on the emotions of the individual—like the starling in distress.
