We know from internal evidence that Tristram Shandy was begun in the early days of 1759; and the first two volumes were probably completed by about the middle of the year.  “In the year 1760,” writes Sterne, “I went up to London to publish my two first volumes of Shandy.”  And it is stated in a note to this passage, as cited in Scott’s memoir, that the first edition was published “the year before” in York.  There is, however, no direct proof that it was in the hands of the public before the beginning of 1760, though it is possible that the date of its publication may just have fallen within the year.  But, at all events, on the 1st of January, 1760, an advertisement in the Public Advertiser informed the world that “this day” was “published, printed on superfine writing-paper, &c., The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy.  York.  Printed for and sold by John Hinxham, Bookseller in Stonegate.”  The great London publisher, Dodslecy, to whom the book had been offered, and who had declined the venture, figures in the advertisement as the principal London bookseller from whom it was to be obtained.  It seems that only a few copies were in the first instance sent up to the London market; but they fell into good hands, for there is evidence that Tristram Shandy had attracted the notice of at least one competent critic in the capital before the month of January was out.  But though the metropolitan success of the book was destined to be delayed for still a month or two, in York it had already created a furore in more senses than one.  For, in fact, and no wonder, it had in many quarters given the deepest offence.  Its Rabelaisian license of incident and allusion was calculated to offend the proprieties—­the provincial proprieties especially—­even in that free-spoken age; and there was that in the book, moreover, which a provincial society may be counted on to abominate, with a keener if less disinterested abhorrence than any sins against decency.  It contained, or was supposed to contain, a broadly ludicrous caricature of one well-known local physician; and an allusion, brief, indeed, and covert, but highly scandalous, to a certain “droll foible” attributed to another personage of much wider celebrity in the scientific world.  The victim in the latter case was no longer living; and this circumstance brought upon Sterne a remonstrance from a correspondent, to which he replied in a letter so characteristic in many respects as to be worth quoting.  His correspondent was a Dr. * * * * * (asterisks for which it is now impossible to substitute letters); and the burden of what seem to have been several communications in speech and writing on the subject was the maxim, “De mortuis nil nisi bonum.”  With such seriousness and severity had his correspondent dwelt upon this adage, that “at length,” writes Sterne, “you have made me as serious and as severe as yourself; but, that the humours you have stirred up might not work too potently within me, I have waited four days to cool myself before I could set pen to paper to answer you.”  And thus he sets forth the results of his four days’ deliberation: