The Corporal.—Tread lightly on his ashes, ye men of genius—for he was your kinsman; weed his grave clean, ye men of goodness—for he was your brother. Oh Corporal! had I thee but now—now that I am able to give thee a dinner and protection—how would I cherish thee! But alas! alas! alas! now that I can do this, the occasion is lost—for thou art gone; thy genius fled up to the stars, from whence it came; and that warm heart of thine, with all its generous and open vessels, compressed into a clod of the valley! Sterne.—Tristram Shandy, Vol. VI. Chap. XXV.
