In Volume 1, as Yorick sets off toward Paris, he asks Madam de L— to travel with him. As soon as he makes this request, he seems to regret it. Sterne signals this regret by personifying Yorick's conflicting emotions as they roil about in his head:
Every dirty passion, and bad propensity in my nature, took the alarm, as I stated the proposition—It will oblige you to have a third horse, said AVARICE, which will put twenty livres out of your pocket.— You know not who she is, said CAUTION —or what scrapes the affair may draw you into, whisper’d COWARDICE — Depend upon it, Yorick! said DISCRETION, ’twill be said you went off with a mistress, and came by assignation to Calais for that purpose—
—You can never after, cried HYPOCRIISY aloud, shew your face in the world—or rise, quoth MEANNESS, in the church— […]
This passage is an embodiment of Yorick's sentimentality—and the sentimentalist style in which Sterne writes—as it is taken to its hyperbolic extreme: Yorick's emotions are so strong that they come to life before him, berating him for his rashness in offering a ride to Madam de L—.
By articulating Yorick's hope for discretion, and the fear that he would be seen as riding off with a "mistress," this passage is also an early example of the tension Yorick feels between sexuality and kindness: on the one hand, the virtuous thing would be to offer Madam de L— a ride, as it would be an act of kindness and charity. On the other hand, such a move is potentially scandalous, because of the possibility that others might think he is partaking in a casual sexual relationship with L—. His concern, as stated by Hypocrisy and Fear, comes back to his ultimate goal of being a good, wordly traveler and a good Christian. Indeed, the ultimate goal of Sterne's novel is to explore much the same dilemma: that is, the novel asks how one can be open and kind to all while still retaining the firm moral compass of Christianity.
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.
