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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman + +Author: Laurence Sterne + +Commentator: George Saintsbury + +Release Date: March 26, 2012 [EBook #39270] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRISTRAM SHANDY *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class = "maintext"> + +<div class = "mynote"> + +<p><b>There are <a name = "start" id = "start">two HTML versions</a> of +this e-book.</b> The present version is intended mainly for e-book +readers that use HTML, and simpler mobile devices. It may also be more +appropriate for some very old browsers.</p> + +<p>This e-text uses UTF-8 (Unicode) file encoding. If the apostrophes +and quotation marks in this paragraph appear as garbage, you may have an +incompatible browser or unavailable fonts. First, make sure that your +browser’s “character set” or “file encoding” is set to Unicode (UTF-8). +You may also need to change the default font.</p> + +<p>The text is from the 1912 Everyman edition of <i>Tristram Shandy</i>. +It reproduces the appearance of that edition, which may not be identical +in design to editions printed in Sterne’s lifetime. Where this edition +has an illustration of a tombstone, some editions have two consecutive +black pages, placed immediately after “Alas, poor Yorick!” For the +e-text, some line breaks were added to the Latin <i>Excommunicatio</i> +to accommodate the alternative endings printed between lines.</p> + +<p>In the printed book, lines are shorter than in most browsers:</p> + +<p class = "sample"> +<span class = "firstword">I wish</span> either my father or my mother, +or indeed both of them,<!-- <br /> --> +as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded<!-- <br /> --> +what they were about when they begot me; had they duly<!-- <br /> --> +consider’d how much depended upon what they were then<!-- <br /> --> +doing;——</p> + +<p>The “<a href = "#bookIII_excomm">Excommunication</a>” and “<a href = +"#bookIV_slawkenberg">Slawkenbergius</a>” sections were printed with +Latin and English on facing pages. They are shown here in parallel +columns. Text shown in <span class = "blackletter">bold sans-serif +type</span> was printed in blackletter (“Gothic”). Footnotes have been +renumbered continuously within each Book, and are grouped at the end of +the Book. The printed text does not distinguish between the author’s +original footnotes and modern editorial notes.</p> + +<p>The editor’s Introduction says:</p> + +<div class = "inset"> +<p>No attempt has been made to correct any oddities of spelling that are +not clearly mere misprints.</p> +</div> + +<p>The same principle was used in the e-text. Unless otherwise noted, +spelling, punctuation and capitalization are as in the original. +Changes—and a few unchanged words—are marked with +<ins class = "correction" title = "like this">mouse-hover popups</ins>. +Similarly, all Greek words and phrases have mouse-hover +transliterations: <span class = "greek" title = "logos">λόγος</span>. +All brackets are in the original.</p> + +<p class = "center"> +<a href = "#intro">Editor’s Introduction</a><br /> +<a href = "#contents">Contents</a><br /> +<a href = "#page1">Tristram Shandy</a><br /> +<a href = "#endnote">Detailed Contents</a><br /> +<a href = "#hyphens">Note on Hyphens</a><br /><br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39270/39270-h/complex.htm"><b><big>Click +on this line to load the more complex HTML version</big></b></a></p> +</div> + + +<div class = "prelim"> + +<div class = "titlepage"> + +<h3><span class = "extended">EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY</span><br /> +EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS</h3> + +<p> <br /> </p> + +<h3><span class = "extended">FICTION</span></h3> + +<p> <br /> </p> + +<h1>TRISTRAM SHANDY</h1> + +<h2><span class = "smallest">WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY</span><br /> +GEORGE SAINTSBURY</h2> +</div> + +<div class = "box"> +<p class = "justify"> +<span class = "smallroman">THIS IS NO.</span> <b>617</b> <span class = +"smallroman">OF</span> <i>EVERYMAN’S +LIBRARY</i>. <span class = "smallroman">THE PUBLISHERS WILL BE PLEASED +TO SEND FREELY TO ALL APPLICANTS A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED AND PROJECTED +VOLUMES, ARRANGED UNDER THE FOLLOWING SECTIONS:</span></p> +</div> + +<div class = "box"> +<p class = "center smaller"> +TRAVEL +<img src = "images/leaf02.png" width = "14" height = "13" alt = "*" /> +SCIENCE +<img src = "images/leaf02.png" width = "14" height = "13" alt = "*" /> +FICTION<br /> +THEOLOGY & PHILOSOPHY<br /> +HISTORY +<img src = "images/leaf02.png" width = "14" height = "13" alt = "*" /> +CLASSICAL<br /> +FOR YOUNG PEOPLE<br /> +ESSAYS +<img src = "images/leaf02.png" width = "14" height = "13" alt = "*" /> +ORATORY<br /> +POETRY & DRAMA<br /> +BIOGRAPHY<br /> +REFERENCE<br /> +ROMANCE<br /> +<img src = "images/dec002.png" width = "78" height = "43" +alt = "decoration" /></p> +</div> + +<div class = "box"> +<p class = "justify smaller"> +IN FOUR STYLES OF BINDING: CLOTH, FLAT BACK, COLOURED TOP; LEATHER, +ROUND CORNERS, GILT TOP; LIBRARY BINDING IN CLOTH, & QUARTER +PIGSKIN</p> +</div> + +<div class = "box"> +<p class = "smallcaps">London: J. M. DENT & SONS, Ltd.</p> +<p class = "smallcaps">New York: E. P. DUTTON & CO.</p> +</div> + + +<div class = "titlepage"> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/intro04.png" width = "397" height = "624" +alt = "A TALE WHICH HOLDETH CHILDREN FROM PLAY & OLD MEN FROM THE CHIMNEY CORNER / SIR PHILIP SIDNEY" +title = "A TALE WHICH HOLDETH CHILDREN FROM PLAY & OLD MEN FROM THE CHIMNEY CORNER / SIR PHILIP SIDNEY" /></p> + +</div> + +<div class = "titlepage"> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/intro05.png" width = "397" height = "626" +alt = "THE LIFE & OPINIONS of TRISTRAM SHANDY * GENTLEMAN By LAURENCE * STERNE // LONDON & TORONTO / J·M·DENT & SONS / LTD. * NEW YORK / E·P·DUTTON & CO" +title = "THE LIFE & OPINIONS of TRISTRAM SHANDY * GENTLEMAN By LAURENCE * STERNE // LONDON & TORONTO / J·M·DENT & SONS / LTD. * NEW YORK / E·P·DUTTON & CO" /></p> + +</div> + +<div class = "titlepage"> + +<p class = "center smallcaps">First Issue of this Edition   . +  1912    </p> + +<p class = "center smallcaps">Reprinted   .   .   . +  .   .   1915, 1917</p> + +</div> +</div> +<!-- end div prelim --> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_vii" id = "intro_vii">vii</a></span> + +<h3><a name = "intro" id = "intro">INTRODUCTION</a></h3> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> can hardly be said that Sterne +was an unfortunate person during his lifetime, though he seems to have +thought himself so. His childhood was indeed a little necessitous, and +he died early, and in debt, after some years of very bad health. But +from the time when he went to Cambridge, things went on the whole very +fairly well with him in respect of fortune; his ill-health does not seem +to have caused him much disquiet; his last ten years gave him fame, +flirting, wandering, and other pleasures and diversions to his heart’s +content; and his debts only troubled those he left behind him. He +delighted in his daughter; he was able to get rid of his wife, when he +was more than usually <i>fatigatus et aegrotus</i> of her, with singular +ease. During the unknown, or almost unknown, middle of his life he had +friends of the kind most congenial to him; and both in his time of +preparation and his time of production in literature, he was able to +indulge his genius in a way by no means common with men of letters. If +his wish to die in a certain manner and circumstance was only +bravado—and borrowed bravado—still it was granted; and it is +quite certain that to him an old age of real illness would have been +unmitigated torture. Even if we admit the ghastly stories of the fate of +his remains, there was very little reason why any one should not have +anticipated Mr. Swinburne’s words on the morrow of Sterne’s death and +said, “Oh! brother, the gods were good to you,” though even then he +might have said it with a sort of mental reservation on the question +whether Sterne had been very good to the gods.</p> + +<p>Nemesis, for the purpose of adjusting things, played him the +exceptionally savage trick of using the intervention of his idolised +daughter. Little or nothing seems to be known of “Lydia Sterne de +Medalle,” as she was pleased to sign herself; “Mrs. Medalle,” as her +bluff British contemporaries call her. But that she must have been +either a very silly, a very stupid, or an excessively callous +person, appears certain. It would seem, indeed, to require a combination +of the flightiness and lack of taste which her father too often +displayed, with the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_viii" id = "intro_viii">viii</a></span> +stolidity which (from rather unfair inference through Mrs. Shandy) is +sometimes supposed to have characterised her mother, to prompt or permit +a daughter to publish such a collection of letters as those which were +first given to the world in 1775. Charity, not unsupported by +probability, has trusted that Madame de Medalle could not read Latin, +but she certainly could read English; and only an utterly corrupted +heart, or an incurably dense or feather-brained head, could hide from +her the fact that not a few of the English letters she published were +damaging to her father’s character. Her alleged excuse—that her +mother, who was then dead, had desired her, if any letters should be +published under her father’s name, to publish these, and that the +“Yorick and Eliza” correspondence had appeared—is utterly +insufficient. For Mrs. Sterne, of whose conduct we know nothing +unfavourable, and one or two things decidedly to her credit, could only +have meant “such of these as will put your father in a favourable +light,” else she would have published them herself. Yet though Lydia +could, while taking no editorial trouble whatever, go out of her way to +make a silly missish apology for publishing a passage in which her +charms and merits are celebrated, she seems never to have given a +thought to what she was doing in other ways. Nor were Sterne’s +misfortunes in this way over with the publication of these things; for +the subsequently discovered Fourmentelle correspondence sunk him, with +precise judges, a little deeper. No doubt <i>Tristram Shandy</i>, +the <i>Sentimental Journey</i>, and the curious stories or traditions +about their author, were not exactly calculated to give Sterne a very +high reputation with grave authorities. But it is these unlucky letters +which put him almost hopelessly out of court. Even the slight relenting +of fortune which gave him at last, in Mr. Percy Fitzgerald, +a biographer very good-natured, very indefatigable, and with a +natural genius for detecting undiscovered facts and documents, only made +matters worse in some ways. And the consequence is, that it has become a +commonplace and almost a necessity to make up for praising Sterne’s +genius by damning his character. Johnson, while declining to deny him +ability, seems to have been too much disgusted to talk freely about him; +Scott’s natural kindliness, warm admiration for my Uncle Toby, and total +freedom from squeamish prudery, seem yet to have left him ill at ease +and tongue-tied in discussing Sterne; Thackeray, as is well known, +exceeded all measure in denouncing him; and his chief recent +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_ix" id = "intro_ix">ix</a></span> +critical biographer, Mr. Traill, who is probably as free from cant, +Britannic or other, as any man who ever wrote in English, speaks his +mind in the most unsparing fashion.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I do not hesitate to say that I do not think letters +of this kind ought to be published at all; and though it may seem +paradoxical or foolish, I am by no means sure that, if they are +published, they ought to be admitted as evidence. That which is not +written for the public, is no business of the public’s; and I never read +letters of this kind, published for the first time, without feeling like +an eavesdropper.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_I_1" id = "tag_I_1" href = +"#note_I_1">1</a> Unluckily, the evidence furnished by the letters fits +in only too well with that furnished by the published works, by his +favourite cronies and companions, and by his general reputation, so that +“what the prisoner says” must, no doubt, “be used against him.”</p> + +<p class = "space"> +It may be doubted whether it was accident or his usual deliberate +fantasticality that made Sterne, in the well-known summary of his life +which (very late in it) he drew up for his daughter, devote almost +the whole space to his childhood. Perhaps it may be accounted for, +reasonably enough, by supposing that of his later years he thought his +daughter knew quite as much as he wished her to know, while of the +middle period he had little or nothing to tell. In fact, of the two +earlier divisions we still know very little but what he has chosen to +tell us in one of the most characteristic and not the least charming +excursions of his pen. Laurence Sterne was, with two sisters, the only +“permanent child” (to borrow a pleasant phrase of Mr. Traill’s) out +of a very plentiful but most impermanent family, borne in the most +inconvenient circumstances possible by Agnes Nuttle or Herbert or +Sterne, a widow, and daughter or stepdaughter of a sutler of our +army in Flanders, to Roger, second son of Simon Sterne of Elvington, in +Yorkshire, who was the third son of Dr. Richard Sterne, Archbishop of +York. The Sternes were of a gentle if not very distinguished family, +which, after being seated in Suffolk, migrated to Nottinghamshire. After +the promotion of the archbishop (who had been a stout cavalier, as +Master of Jesus at Cambridge, in the bad times), they obtained, as was +fitting, divers establishments by marriage or benefice in +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_x" id = "intro_x">x</a></span> +Yorkshire itself. Very little endowment of any kind, however, fell to +the lot of Roger Sterne, who was an ensign in what ranked later as the +34th regiment. Laurence, his eldest son, was born at Clonmel, in +Ireland, where his mother’s relations lived, and just after his father’s +regiment had been disbanded. It was shortly re-established, however, and +became the most “marching” of all marching corps; for though its +headquarters were generally in Ireland, it was constantly being ordered +elsewhere, and Roger Sterne saw active service both at Vigo and +Gibraltar. In this latter station he fought a duel of an extremely +Shandean character “about a goose.” He was run through the body and +pinned to the wall; whereupon, it is said, he requested his antagonist +to be so kind as to wipe the plaster off the sword before pulling it out +of his body. In despite of this thoughtfulness, however, and of an +immediate recovery, the wound so weakened him that, being ordered to +Jamaica, he took fever and died there in March 1731. As Lawrence had +been born on November 24, 1713, he was nearly eighteen; and the family +had meanwhile been increased by four other children who all died, and a +youngest daughter, Catherine, who, like the eldest, Mary, lived. Till he +was about nine or ten the boy followed the exceedingly fluctuating +fortunes of his family, which he diversified further on by falling +through, not a millrace, but a going mill. Then he was sent to school at +Halifax, in Yorkshire, and soon after practically adopted by his cousin +Sterne of Elvington, who, when the time came, sent him to Jesus College +at Cambridge, the family connection with which had begun with his +great-grandfather. He was admitted there on July 6, 1733, being then +nearly twenty, and took his degree of B.A. in 1736, and that of M.A. in +1740. The only tradition of his school career is his own story that, +having written his name on the school ceiling, he was whipped by the +usher, but complimented as a “boy of genius” by the master, who said the +name should never be effaced. This anecdote, as might be expected, has +not escaped the <i>aqua fortis</i> of criticism.</p> + +<p>We know practically nothing of Sterne’s Cambridge career except the +dates above mentioned, the fact of his being elected first to a +sizarship and then as founder’s kin to a scholarship endowed by +Archbishop Sterne, and the incident told by himself that he there +contracted his lifelong friendship with a distant relative and fellow +Jesus man, John Hall, or John +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xi" id = "intro_xi">xi</a></span> +Hall Stevenson, of whom more presently. But Sterne had further reason to +acknowledge that his family stood together. He had no sooner taken his +degree, than he was taken up by a brother of his father’s, Jaques +Sterne, a great pluralist in the diocese of York, a very busy +and masterful person, and a strong Whig and Hanoverian. Under his care, +Sterne took deacon’s orders in March 1736 at the hands of the Bishop of +Lincoln; and as soon as, two years later, he had been ordained priest, +he was appointed to the living of Sutton-on-the-Forest, eight miles from +York. The uncle and nephew some years later quarrelled +bitterly—according to the latter’s account, because he would not +write “dirty paragraphs in the newspapers,” being “no party man.” That +Sterne would have been particularly squeamish about what he wrote may be +doubted; but it is certain that he shows no partisan spirit anywhere, +and very little interest in politics as such. However, for some years +his uncle was certainly his active patron, and obtained for him two +prebends and some other special preferments in connection with the +diocese and chapter of York, so that he became, as <i>Tristram</i> +shows, intimately acquainted with cathedral society there.</p> + +<p>It has been a steady rule in the Anglican Church (if not, as in the +Greek, a <i>sine quâ non</i>) that when a man has been provided +with a living, he should, if he has not done so before, provide himself +with a wife; and Sterne was a very unlikely man to break good custom in +this respect. Very soon at least after his ordination he fell in love +with Elizabeth Lumley, a young lady of a good Yorkshire family, and +of some little fortune, which, however, for a time she thought “not +enough” to share with him, but which, as she told him during a fit of +illness, she left to him in her will. On the strength of two quite +unauthenticated and, I believe, not now traceable portraits seen by +this or that person in printshops or elsewhere, she is said to have been +plain. Certain expressions in Sterne’s letters seem to imply that she +had a rather exasperatingly steady and not too intelligent will of her +own; and some twenty or five and twenty years after the marriage, +M. Tollot, a gossiping Frenchman, with French ideas on the +duty of husbands and wives going separate ways, said that she wished to +have a finger in every pie, and pestered “the good and agreeable +Tristram” with her presence. But Sterne, despite his reckless +confessions of conjugal indifference, and worse, says nothing serious or +even ill-natured of her; and one or two +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xii" id = "intro_xii">xii</a></span> +traits and sayings of hers, especially her refusal to listen to a +meddlesome person who wished to tell her tales about “Eliza,” seem to +argue sense and dignity. That in the latter years she cared little to be +with a husband who had long been “tired and sick” of her is not to her +discredit. Their daughter, with the almost invariable ill-luck or +ill-judgment which seems to have attended her, printed certain letters +of this courtship time, though she gave nothing for many years +afterwards. The use made of these Strephon or Damon blandishments, in +contrast with the expressions used by the writer of his wife, and of +other women, long afterwards, is perhaps a little unfair; but it must be +admitted that though far too characteristic and amusing to be omitted, +they are anything but brilliant specimens of their kind. In particular, +Thackeray’s bitter fun on the ineffably lackadaisical passage, “My L. +has seen a polyanthus blow in December,” is pretty fully justified.</p> + +<p>If, however, the marriage, which, difficulties being removed, took +place on Easter Monday, March 30, 1741, did not bring lasting happiness +to Sterne, it probably brought him some at the time, and it certainly +brought him an accession of fortune; for in addition to what little +money Miss Lumley had, a friend of hers bestowed the additional +living of Stillington on her husband. These various sources of income +must have made a tolerable revenue, which, after the publication of +<i>Tristram</i>, was further supplemented by yet another benefice given +him by Lord Falconbridge at Coxwold, a living of no great value, +but a pleasant place of residence. Add to this the profits of his books +in the last eight years of his life, which were for that day +considerable, and it will be seen that, as has been said above, Sterne +might have been much worse off in this world’s goods than he was. He +seems, like other people, to have made some rather costly experiments in +farming; and his way of life latterly, what with his own journeys and +sojourns in London, and the long separate residence of his wife and +daughter in France, was expensive. But he complains little of poverty; +and though he died in debt, much of that debt was due to no fault of +his, but to the burning of the parsonage of Sutton.</p> + +<p>It is all the more remarkable in one way, though the absence of any +pressure of want may explain it in another, that Sterne’s great literary +gifts should have remained so long without finding any kind of literary +expression, unless it was in the newspaper way, in respect to which he +first obliged and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xiii" id = "intro_xiii">xiii</a></span> +afterwards disobliged his uncle. There is, I believe, no dispute +about the fact that he distances, and that by many years, every other +man of letters of anything like his rank—except Cowper, whose +affliction puts him out of comparison—in the lateness of his +fruiting time. <ins class = "correction" +title = "‘almost’, i.e. 1736-1759">All but</ins> a quarter of a century had passed since he took +his degree when <i>Tristram Shandy</i> appeared; and, putting sermons +aside, the very earliest thing of his known, <i>The History of a Good +Watch Coat</i>, only antedated <i>Tristram</i> by two years or rather +less. He was no doubt “making himself all this time;” but the making +must have been an uncommonly slow process. Nor did he, like a good many +writers, occupy the time in preparing what he was afterwards to publish, +unless in the case of a few of his sermons. It is positively known that +<i>Tristram</i> was written merely as it was published, and the +<i>Journey</i> likewise. Nor is even the first by any means a long book. +It is as nearly as possible the same length as Fielding’s <i>Amelia</i> +when printed straight on; and even then more allowance has to be made, +not merely for its free and audacious plagiarisms, but for its +constantly broken paragraphs, stars, dashes, and other trickeries. If it +were possible to squeeze it up, as one squeezes a sponge, into the solid +texture of an ordinary book, I doubt whether it would be very much +longer than <i>Joseph Andrews</i>.</p> + +<p>It will probably be admitted, however, that the idiosyncrasy of the +writings of Sterne’s last and incomplete decade, even if it be in part +only an idiosyncrasy of mannerism, is almost great enough to justify the +nearly three decades of <i>Lehrjahre</i> (starting from his entrance at +Cambridge) which preceded it. It is true that of the actual occupations +of these years we know extremely little—indeed, what we know as +distinguished from what is guesswork and inference is mostly summed up +by Sterne’s own current and curvetting pen thus: “I remained near +twenty years at Sutton, doing duty at both places [<i>i.e.</i>, Sutton +and Stillington]. I had then very good health. Books, painting, +fiddling, and shooting were my amusements;” to which he adds only that +he and the squire of Sutton were not very good friends, but that at +Stillington the Croft family were extremely kind and amiable. From other +sources, including, it is true, his own letters—though the dates +and allusions of these are so uncertain that they are very doubtful +guides—we find that his chief crony during this period, as during +his life, was the already-mentioned John Hall, who had +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xiv" id = "intro_xiv">xiv</a></span> +taken to the name of Stevenson, and was master of Skelton Castle, +a very old and curious house on the border of the Cleveland moors, +not far from the town of Guisborough. The master of “Crazy” +Castle—he liked to give his house this name, which he afterwards +used in entitling his book of <i>Crazy Tales</i>—his ways and his +library, have usually been charged with debauching Sterne’s innocent +mind, which I should imagine lent itself to that process in a most +docile and <i>morigerant</i> fashion; but whether this was the case or +not, it is clear that Stevenson bore no very good reputation. It is not +certain, but was asserted, that he had been a monk of Medmenham. He +gathered about him at Skelton a society which, though no such +imputations were made on it as on that of Wilkes and Dashwood, was of a +pretty loose kind; he was a humourist, both in the old and the modern +sense; and his <i>Crazy Tales</i> were, if not very mad, rather sad and +bad exercises of the imagination.</p> + +<p>Amid all this dream- and guess-work, almost the only solid facts in +Sterne’s life are the births of two daughters, one in 1745, and the +other two years later. Both were christened Lydia; the first died soon +after she was born, the second lived to be the darling of both her +parents, the object of the most respectable emotions of Sterne’s life, +the wife of an unknown Frenchman, M. de Medalle, and, as has been +said, the probably unwitting destroyer of her father’s last chance of +reputation.</p> + +<p>Our exuberant nescience in matters Sternian extends up to the very +publication of <i>Tristram</i>, as far as the determining causes of its +production are concerned. It is true that in passages of the letters +Sterne seems to say that his experiment with the pen was prompted by a +desire to make good some losses in farming, and elsewhere that he was +tired of employing his brains for other people’s advantage, as he had +done for some years for an ungrateful person, that is to say, his uncle. +This last passage was written just before <i>Tristram</i> came out; but +at no time was Sterne a very trustworthy reporter of his own motives, +and it would seem that the quarrel with his uncle must have been a good +deal earlier. At any rate, the year 1759 seems to have been spent in +writing the first two volumes of the book, and <i>The Life and Opinions +of Tristram Shandy, Gent.</i>, published by John Hinxham, Stonegate, +York, but obtainable also from divers London booksellers, appeared on +the 1st of January 1760. I wish Sterne had thought of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xv" id = "intro_xv">xv</a></span> +keeping it till the 1st of April, which he would probably then have +done.</p> + +<p>The comparatively short last scenes of his life were as busy and +varied as his long middle course had been outwardly monotonous. Although +his book was nominally published at York, he had gone up to London to +superintend arrangements for its sale there, perhaps not without a hope +of triumph. If so, Fortune chose not to play him her usual tricks. In +York, the extreme personality of the book excited interest of a twofold +and dubious kind; but, to play on some words of Dryden’s, “London liked +grossly” and swallowed <i>Tristram Shandy</i> whole with singular +avidity. Its author came to town just in time to enjoy the results of +this, and was one of the chief lions of the season of 1760, +a position which he enjoyed with a childish frankness that is not +the least pleasant thing in his history. One, probably of the least +important, though by accident one of the best known of his innumerable +flirtations, with a Miss Fourmentelle, was apparently quenched by this +distraction when it was on the point of going such lengths that the lady +had actually come up alone to London to meet Sterne there. He was +introduced to persons as different as Garrick and Warburton, from the +latter of whom he received, in rather mysterious circumstances, +a present of money. He haunted Ministers and Knights of the Garter; +he was overwhelmed with invitations and callers; and, as has been said, +he received one very solid present in the shape of the living of +Coxwold. <i>Tristram</i> went into a second edition rapidly; its author +was enabled to announce a collection of “<i>Sermons</i> by Mr. Yorick” +in April; and he went to his new living in the early summer, determined +to set to work vigorously on more of the work that had been so +fortunate. By the end of the year he was ready with two more volumes, +again came up to town, and again, when vols. iii. and iv. had appeared, +at the end of January 1761, was besieged by admirers. For these two he +received £380 from Dodsley, who had fought shy of the book earlier. They +were quite as successful as the first pair; and again Sterne stayed all +the spring and earlier summer in London, returning to Yorkshire to make +more <i>Shandy</i> in the autumn. He was still quicker over the third +batch, and it was published in December 1761, when he was again in town, +but he now meditated a longer flight. His health had been really +declining, and he obtained leave from the archbishop for a year certain, +and perhaps two, that he might go to the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xvi" id = "intro_xvi">xvi</a></span> +south of France. He was warmly received in Paris, where his work had +obtained a popularity which it has never wholly lost, and the framework +of fact (including the passport difficulties) for the <i>Sentimental +Journey</i>, as well as for the seventh volume of <i>Tristram</i>, was +laid during the spring. His plans were now changed, it being determined +that his wife and daughter (who had inherited his constitution) should +join him. They did so after some difficulties, and the consumptive +novelist, having spent all the winter in one of the worst climates in +Europe, that of the French capital, started with his family in the +torrid heats of July for Toulouse, where at last they were established +about the middle of August.</p> + +<p>Toulouse became Sterne’s abode for nearly a year, his headquarters +for a somewhat longer period, and the home of his wife and daughter, +with migrations to Bagnères, Montpellier, and a great many other places +in France, for about five <ins class = "correction" +title = "text has ,">years.</ins> He himself—he had been ill at Toulouse, and worse +at Montpellier—reached England again (after a short stay in Paris) +during the early summer of 1764. Nor was it till January 1765 that the +seventh and eighth volumes of <i>Tristram</i> appeared. As usual Sterne +went to town to receive the congratulations of the public, which seem to +have been fairly hearty; for though the instalment immediately preceding +had not been an entire success, the longer interval had now had its +effect not merely on the art and materials of the caterer, but on the +appetite of his guests. He followed this up with two more volumes of +Sermons, of a much more characteristic kind than his earlier venture in +this way, and published partly by subscription. These, however, were not +actually issued till 1766. Meanwhile, in October 1765, Sterne had set +out for his second attempt in travel on the Continent, which was to +supply the remaining material for the <i>Sentimental Journey</i>, and to +be prolonged as far as Naples. Little is known of his winter stay at +that city and in Rome. On his way homeward he met his wife and daughter +in Franche-Comté, but at Mrs. Sterne’s request left them there, and went +on alone to Coxwold.</p> + +<p>He reached England in extremely bad health, and never left it again; +but he had still nearly two years of fairly well filled life to run. The +ninth, or last volume of <i>Tristram</i> occupied him during the autumn +of 1766, and was produced with the invariable accompaniment of its +author’s appearance in London during January 1767. This visit, which +lasted till May, saw the flirtation with “Eliza” Draper, the young wife +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xvii" id = "intro_xvii">xvii</a></span> +of an Indian official, who was at home for her health, an affair which +exalted Sterne in the eyes of eighteenth-century sensibility, especially +in France, about as much as it has depressed him in the eyes not merely +of the propriety, not merely of the common sense, but of the romance of +later times. He was very ill when he got back to Coxwold, but recovered, +and in October was joined by his wife and daughter. Even then, however, +the community was a very temporary and divided one, for he took a house +for them at York, and they were not to stay in England beyond the +spring. He himself finished what we have of the <i>Sentimental +Journey</i>, and went to London with it, where it was published rather +later than usual, on the 27th February 1768. Three weeks later its +author, at his lodgings at 41 New Bond Street, in the presence only of a +hired nurse and a footman, who had been sent by some of his friends to +inquire after him, took a journey other than sentimental, and so far +unreported. Some odd but not very well authenticated stories gathered +round his death, which occurred on Friday the 18th March. It was said, +and it is probable enough, that his gold sleeve-links were stolen by his +landlady. After his funeral, scantily attended, at the burying-ground of +St. George’s, Hanover Square, opposite Hyde Park (which used to be known +by the squalid brown of its unrestored, and afterwards made more hideous +by the bedizened red of its restored chapel), his body is said to have +been snatched by resurrection men. And the myth is rounded off by the +addition that the remains, having been sold to the professor of anatomy +at Cambridge, were dissected there in public, one of the spectators, +a friend of Sterne’s, recognising the face too late, and +fainting.</p> + +<p>His affairs, which had never been managed in a very business-like +manner, were in considerable disorder. Some years before, the +carelessness of his curate had caused or allowed the parsonage at Sutton +to be burnt to the ground; and Sterne, besides losing valuable effects +of his own, was of course liable for the rebuilding. He managed to put +this off till his death, after which his widow and administratrix was +sued for dilapidations. These, as she was in very poor circumstances, +had to be compounded for sixty pounds only, but they probably ranked for +a much larger sum in the £1100 at which Sterne’s indebtedness was +reckoned. His widow had a little money of her own: £800 was collected +for her and her daughter at York races; there must have been profits +from +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xviii" id = "intro_xviii">xviii</a></span> +the copyrights; and a fresh collection of <i>Sermons</i> was issued by +subscription. But though very little is known about the pair, they are +said to have been ill off. They applied first to Wilkes and then to +Stevenson to write a life of Sterne to prefix to his Works, but neither +complied. Mr. Fitzgerald, who seldom deserves the curse laid on those +who use harsh judgment, is very severe on both for this. Yet surely +each, considering his own reputation, must have felt that he was the +last person to set Sterne right with the stricter part of society, and +that to write a “Crazy” or “Shandean” life of him would be a cruel +crime. It is not known exactly when Lydia married, or when either she or +her mother died. Mrs. Sterne must have been dead by 1775, the date of +the publication of the letters; Lydia is said to have perished in the +French Revolution.</p> + +<p>Beginning authorship very late in life, having schooled himself to an +intensely artificial method, both in style and in construction, and not +allowed by Fate more than a few years in which to write at all, Sterne, +as is natural, displays a great uniformity throughout his work. Indeed, +it might be said that he has written but one book, <i>Tristram +Shandy</i>. The <i>Sentimental Journey</i> (as to the relative +merits of which, compared with the earlier and larger work, there is a +<i>polemos aspondos</i> between the Big-endians and the Little-endians +of Sternism) is after all only an expansion of the seventh book of +Tristram, with <i>fioriture</i>, variations, and new divertisements. The +sermon which occurs so early is an actual sermon of “Yorick’s,” and a +sufficient specimen of his more serious concionatory vein; many, if not +most of his letters might have been twined into <i>Tristram</i> without +being in the least degree more out of place than most of its actual +contents. And so there is more propriety than depends upon the mere fact +that <i>Tristram Shandy</i> is the earliest and the largest part of its +author’s work, in making no extremely scholastic distinction between the +specially Shandean and the generally Sternian characteristics; for, +indeed, all Sterne is in it more or less eminently.</p> + +<p>No less a critic than M. Scherer has given his sanction to the idea +that in Sterne we have a special, if not even <i>the</i> special, type +of the humourist; and probably few people who have given no particular +thought or attention to the matter, would refuse to agree with him. +I am myself inclined rather to a demur, or, at any rate, to a +distinction, though few better +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xix" id = "intro_xix">xix</a></span> +things have been written about humour itself than a passage in +M. Scherer’s essay on our author. Sterne has no doubt in a very +eminent degree the sense of contrast, which all the best critics admit +to be the root of humour—the note of the humourist. But he has it +partially, occasionally, and, I should even go as far as to say, +not <i>greatly</i>. The <i>great</i> English humourists, I take it, +are Shakespeare, Swift, Fielding, Thackeray, and Carlyle. All +these—even Fielding, whose eighteenth-century manner, the +contemporary and counterpart of Sterne’s, cannot hide the +truth—apply the humourist contrast, the humourist sense of the +irony of existence, to the great things, the <i>prima et novissima</i>. +They see, and feel, and show the simultaneous sense of Death and Life, +of Love and Loss, of the Finite and the Infinite. Sterne stops a long +way short of this; <i>les grands sujets lui sont défendus</i> in another +sense than La Bruyère’s. It is scarcely too much to say that his +ostentatious preference for the <i>bagatelle</i> was a real, and not in +the least affected fact. Nowhere, not in the true pathos of the famous +deathbed letter to Mrs. James, not in the, as it seems to me, by no +means wholly true pathos of the Le Fever episode, does he pierce to “the +accepted hells beneath.” He has an unmatched command of the lesser and +lower varieties of the humorous contrast—over the odd, the petty, +the queer, above all, over what the French untranslatably call the +<i>saugrenu</i>. His forte is the foible; his <i>cheval de bataille</i>, +the hobby-horse. If you want to soar into the heights, or plunge into +the depths of humour, Sterne is not for you. But if you want what his +own generation called a frisk on middle, <i>very</i> middle-earth, +a hunt in curiosity-shops (especially of the technically “curious” +description), a peep into all manner of <i>coulisses</i> and +behind-scenes of human nature, a ride on a sort of intellectual +switchback, a view of moral, mental, religious, sentimental dancing +of all the kinds that have delighted man, from the rope to the skirt, +then have with Sterne in any direction he pleases. He may sometimes a +very little disgust you, but you will seldom have just cause to complain +that he disappoints and deceives.</p> + +<p>The <i>Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gent.</i> (which, as it +has been excellently observed, is in reality based on the life of the +gent’s uncle, and the opinions of the gent’s father), is the largest and +in every way the chief field for these diversions. The apparatus, and, +so far as there can be said to have been one, the object with which +Sterne marked it out +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xx" id = "intro_xx">xx</a></span> +and filled it up, are clear, and even the former must have been clear +enough to anybody of some reading and some intelligence long before the +excellent Dr. Ferriar, in the spirit of a reverent iconoclast, set +himself to work to point out Sterne’s exact indebtedness to Rabelais, +Burton, Beroalde (if Beroalde wrote the <i>Moyen de Parvenir</i>), +Bruscambille, and the rest. Of this particular part of the matter I do +not think it necessary to say much. The charge of plagiarism is usually +an excessively idle one; for when a man of genius steals, he always +makes the thefts his own; and when a man steals without genius, the +thefts are mere fairy gold which turns to leaves and pebbles under his +hand. No doubt Sterne “lifted” in <i>Tristram</i>, and still more in the +<i>Sermons</i>, with rather more freedom and audacity than most men of +genius; but when we remember that he took Burton’s denunciation of the +practice and reproduced it (all but in Burton’s very words) as his own, +it must be clear to any one who is not very dull indeed that he was +playing an audacious practical joke. Where he is best, he does not steal +at all, and that is the only point of real importance.</p> + +<p>It is somewhat more, I think, the business of the critic (who is here +more especially bound not to look only at the stop-watch) to note the +far more striking way in which Sterne borrowed, not actual passages and +words, but manner and style. Here, perhaps, we shall find him accountant +for a greater debt; and here also we may think that though his genius is +indisputable, he gives more reason to those who should deny him the +highest kind of genius. Beyond doubt not merely his reading, but his +temper and his characteristics of all kinds, inclined him to the style +to which the French fifteenth and sixteenth centuries gave the name of +<i>fatrasie</i>, or pillar-to-post divagation, with more or less of a +covert satiric aim. But if we compare the dealing of Swift with Cyrano +de Bergerac, the dealing of Fielding with the romance and novel as it +existed before his time, nay, the dealing of Shakespeare with the +Marlowe drama, we shall note a marked difference in Sterne’s procedure. +Nobody, even in his own day, who knew Rabelais at all could fail to +detect the almost servile following of manner in great things and in +small which <i>Tristram</i> displays. No one—a much smaller +designation—who knows the strange, unedifying, but very far from +commonplace book of which, as I have hinted, I never can quite +believe that Beroalde de Verville was the author, can fail to detect an +even closer, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxi" id = "intro_xxi">xxi</a></span> +though a somewhat less obvious and, so to speak, less verifiable +following here.</p> + +<p>In another region—the purgatory of all Sterne’s +commentators—we can trace this corrupt following as distinctly at +least, though it has, I think, been less often definitely +attributed. Sterne’s too celebrated indecency, is, with one exception, +<i>sui generis</i>. No doubt much nonsense has been and is talked about +“indecency” in general literature. When it is indulged, as it has been, +for instance, in French of late, it becomes a nuisance of the most +loathsome kind. It is always perhaps better left alone. But if it be a +sin to laugh now and then frankly at what were once called “gentlemen’s +stories,” then not merely many a gallant, noble, and not unwise +gentleman, but I fear not a few ladies, both fair and fine, are damned, +with Shakespeare and Scott and Southey, with Margaret of Navarre and +Marie de Sévigné, to keep them in countenance. Yet to merit indulgence, +this questionable quality, in addition to being treated as genius +treats, must have certain sub-qualities, or freedoms from quality, of +its own. It must not be brutal and inhuman, since the quality of +humanity is the main thing that saves it. It must not be underhand and +sniggering. It must be frank and jovial, or frank and passionate. +Perhaps, in some cases, it may be saved, as Swift’s is to a great +extent, by the overmastering pessimism of despair, which enforces its +contempt of man and man’s fate by bringing forward these evidences of +his weakness. But Sterne can plead none of these exemptions. He has +neither the frank laughter of Aristophanes and Rabelais, nor the frank +passion of Catullus and Donne. He was incapable of feeling any <i>sæva +indignatio</i> whatever. The attraction of the thing for him was, +I fear, merely the attraction of the improper, because it is +improper; because it shocks people, or makes them blush, or gives them +an unholy little quiver of sordid shamefaced delectation. His famous +apology of the child playing on the floor and showing in innocence what +is not usually shown, was desperately unlucky. For his displays are +those of educated and economic un-innocency. And he took this manner, +I am nearly sure, wholly and directly from Voltaire, who enjoys the +unenviable copyright and patent of it.</p> + +<p>The third characteristic which Sterne took from others, which dyed +his work deeply, and which injured more than it helped it, was his +famous, his unrivalled, Sensibility or Sentimentalism. +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxii" id = "intro_xxii">xxii</a></span> +A great deal has been written about this admired eighteenth-century +device, and there is no space here for discussing it. Suffice it to say, +that although Sterne certainly did not invent it—it had been +inculcated by two whole generations of French novelists before him, and +had been familiar in England for half a century—he has the glory, +such as it is, of carrying it to the farthest possible. The dead donkey +and the live donkey, the latter (as I humbly but proudly join +myself to Mr. Thackeray and Mr. Traill in thinking) far the finer +animal; Le Fever and La Fleur; Maria and Eliza; Uncle Toby’s fly, and +poor Mrs. Sterne’s antenuptial polyanthus; the stoics that Mr. Sterne +(with a generous sense that he was in no danger of that lash) wished to +be whipped, and the critics from whom he would have fled from Dan to +Beersheba to be delivered;—all the celebrated persons and passages +of his works, all the decorations and fireworks thereof, are directed +mainly to the exhibition of <i>Sensibility</i>, once so charming, now, +alas! hooted and contemned of the people!</p> + +<p>And now it will be possible to have done with his foibles, all the +rest in Sterne being for praise, with hardly any mixture of blame. We +have seen what he borrowed from others, mostly to his hurt; let us now +see what he contributed of his own, almost wholly to his credit and +advantage. He had, in the first place, what most writers when they begin +almost invariably and almost inevitably lack, a long and carefully +amassed store, not merely of reading, but of observation of mankind. +Although his nearly fifty years of life had been in the ordinary sense +uneventful, they had given him opportunities which he had amply taken. +A “son of the regiment,” he had evidently studied with the greatest +and most loving care the ways of an army which still included a large +proportion of Marlborough’s veterans; and it has been constantly and +reasonably held that his chief study had been his father, whom he +evidently adored in a way. Roger Sterne is the admitted model of my +Uncle Toby; and I at least have no doubt that he was the original of Mr. +Shandy also, for some of the qualities which appear in his son’s +character of him are Walter’s, not Toby’s. It would have required, +perhaps, even greater genius than Sterne possessed, and an environment +less saturated with the delusive theory of the “ruling passion,” to have +given us the mixed and blended temperament instead of separating it into +two gentlemen at once, and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxiii" id = "intro_xxiii">xxiii</a></span> +making Walter Shandy all wayward intellect, and Tobias all gentle +goodness. But if it had been done—as Shakespeare perhaps alone +could have done it—we should have had a greater and more human +figure than either. Mr. Shandy would then never have come near, as he +does sometimes, to being a bore; and my Uncle Toby (if I may say so +without taking the wings of the morning to flee from the wrath of the +extreme Tobyolaters) would have been saved from the occasional +appearance of being something like a fool.</p> + +<p>Still, these two are delightful even in their present dichotomy; and +Sterne was amply provided by his genius, working on his experience, with +company for them. His fancy portrait of himself as “Yorick” (his +unfeigned Shakespearianism is one of his best traits) is a little vague +and fantastic; and that of Eugenius, which is supposed to represent John +Hall Stevenson, is almost as slight as it is flattering. But Dr. Slop, +who is known to have been drawn (with somewhat unmerciful fidelity in +externals, but not at all unkindly when we look deeper) from Dr. Burton, +a well-known Jacobite practitioner who had suffered from the +Hanoverian zeal of Yorick’s uncle Jaques in the ’45, is a masterpiece. +The York dignitaries are veritable etchings in outline, more instinct +with life and individuality than a thousand elaborately painted +pictures; all the servants, Obadiah, Susannah, Bridget, and the rest, +are the equals of Fielding’s, or of Thackeray’s domestics; and though +Tristram himself is the shadow of a shade, I confess that I seem to +see a vivid portrait in the three or four strokes which alone give us +“my dear, dear Jenny.” Mr. Fitzgerald, succumbing to a not unnatural +temptation, considering the close juxtaposition in time, approximates +this to the “dear, dear Kitty” of the letters to Miss Catherine de +Fourmentelle. But this, taking all things together, would be a rather +serious <i>scandalum damigellarum</i>; and I do not think it necessary +to identify, though the traits seem to me to suit not ill with the few +genuine ones in the letters about Mrs. Sterne herself. That the “dear, +dear” should be ironical more or less is quite Shandean. All these, if +not drawn directly from individuals (the lower exercise), are first +generalised and then precipitated into individuality from a large +observation (which is the infinitely higher and better). I fear I +must except Widow Wadman, save in the sentry-box scene, from this +encomium. But then Widow Wadman is not really a real person. She is +partly an instrument to put my Uncle Toby through some +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxiv" id = "intro_xxiv">xxiv</a></span> +new motions, and partly a cue to enable Sterne to indulge in his worst +foible. As for Trim, <i>quis vituperavit</i> Trim? The lover of the +“popish clergywoman” is simply perfect, with a not much less good heart +and a much better head than his master’s, and in his own degree hardly +less of a gentleman.</p> + +<p>The manner in which these delightful persons (I observe with shame +that I had omitted the modest worth of Mrs. Shandy, nearly the most +delightful of them all) are introduced to the reader, may have suffered +a little from that corrupt following of which enough has been said. +I can only say, that I would compound for a good deal more +corruption of the same kind, allied with a good deal less genius. It can +scarcely be doubted that there was a real pre-established harmony +between Sterne’s gifts and the <i>fatrasie</i> manner; certainly this +manner, if it sometimes exhibited his weaknesses, gave rare +opportunities to his strength. And the same may be said of his style. He +might certainly have given us less of the typographical tricks with +which he chose to bedizen and bedaub it, and sometimes in his +ultra-Rabelaisian moods—I do not mean of <i>gauloiserie</i> +but of sheer fooling—we feel the falsetto rather disastrously. It +is constantly forgotten by unfavourable critics of Rabelais that his +extravagances were to a great extent, at any rate, quite natural +outbursts of animal spirits. The Middle Ages, though it has become the +fashion with those who know nothing about them to represent them as ages +of gloom, were probably the merriest time of this world’s history; and +the Reformation and the Renaissance, with their pedantry and their +puritanism, and worst of all their physical science, had not quite +killed the merriment when Rabelais wrote. But though animal spirits +still survived in Sterne’s day, it cannot be said that in England, any +more than elsewhere, there was much genuine merriment of the honest, +childish, mediæval kind, and thus his manner perpetually jars. Still the +style, independently of the tricks, was excellently suited for the work. +It is a moot point how far the extremely loose and ungirt character of +this style, which sometimes, and indeed often, reaches sheer +slovenliness and solecism, was intentional. I think myself that it +was nearly as deliberate as the asterisks, and the black and marble +pages. We know from the <i>Sermons</i> that Sterne could write carefully +enough when he chose, and we know from the MS. of the <i>Journey</i> +that he corrected sedulously. Nor is it likely that he had the excuse of +hurry. The shortest time that he ever took over one +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxv" id = "intro_xxv">xxv</a></span> +of his two-volume batches was more than six months; and looking at the +practice, not of miracles of industry and facility like Scott, but of +rather dilatory writers like Thackeray, one would think that the +quantity (which is not more than a couple of hundred pages of one of +these present volumes) might be written in little more than six weeks. +At any rate, the style, conversational, unpretentious, too easy to be +jerky, and yet too broken to be sustained, suits subject and scheme as +few others could.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +But there is perhaps little need to say more about a book which, though +some say that few read it through nowadays, is thoroughly well known in +outline and in its salient passages, and which will pretty certainly lay +hold of all fit readers as soon as they take to it. Of its writer a very +little more may perhaps be said, all the more so because those who, not +understanding critical admiration, think that biographers and editors +ought not only to be just and a little kind, but extravagantly partial +to their subjects, may conceive that I have been a little unjust, or, at +any rate, a little unkind to Sterne. If so, they have not read his +own extremely ingenious, and in general, if not in particular, very +sound attack on the adage <i>de mortuis</i>. But if not <i>nil nisi</i>, +there is yet very much <i>bonum</i> to be said of Sterne. He was not +merely endowed with a singular and essential genius; he was not merely +the representative and mouthpiece, in a way hardly surpassed by any one, +of a certain way of thought and feeling more or less peculiar to his +time. These were his merits, his very great merits as a writer. But he +had others, and great, if not very great ones, as a man. Though never +rich, he seems to have been free from the fault of parsimony; and albeit +he died in debt, not deeply tainted with that of extravagance in money +matters. For most of his later expenditure was on others, and he might +justly calculate on his pen paying, and more than paying, his shot. +Little love as there was lost between him and his wife, he always took +the greatest care to provide for her wants in the rather costly +severance of their establishments, and never even in his most indiscreet +moments hints a grumble at her expenditure, a vice of which some +people of much higher general reputation have been known to be guilty. +Though he was certainly pleased at the attentions of “the great,” +I do not know that there is any just cause for accusing him of +truckling to, or fawning on them beyond the custom and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxvi" id = "intro_xxvi">xxvi</a></span> +courtesy of the time. For all his reckless humour, there was no +ill-nature in him. His worst enemies have admitted that his affection +for his daughter was very pretty and quite unaffected; and his letters +to and of Mrs. James show that he could think of a woman nobly and +wholesomely as a friend, for all his ignoble and unwholesome ways of +thought in regard to the sex. If it had not been for the cruel +indiscretion of his Lydia (which, however, has something of the old +virtue of conveying the balm as well as the sting), he would probably +have been much better thought of than he is. And considering the +delightful books here once more presented, I think we may consent +to forgive the faults which, after all, were mainly his own business, +for the merits by which we so largely benefit and for which he reaped no +over-bounteous guerdon.</p> + +<p class = "right"> +GEORGE SAINTSBURY.</p> + +<p><a name = "biblio" id = "biblio"> </a></p> + +<p class = "small space"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Works.</span>—The Life and Opinions of +Tristram Shandy, Vols. I. and II., 1759; III. and IV., 1761; V. and VI., +1762; VII. and VIII., 1765; IX., 1767; first collected edition, 1767; +numerous later editions, chiefly of recent date. Sermons of Mr. Yorick, +Vols. I. and II., 1760; III. and IV., 1766; V., VI., and VII., 1769. +A Sentimental Journey, 1768; many later editions; Letters from +Yorick to Eliza, 1775; Sterne’s Letters to his Friends on Various +Occasions, 1775; Letters of Laurence Sterne to his most intimate +friends, 1775; Original Letters never before published, 1788; Letters of +Yorick and Eliza, 1807; Seven Letters written by Sterne and his Friends, +hitherto unpublished, 1844; Unpublished Letters of Laurence Sterne, +edited by J. Murray, 1856.</p> + +<p><span class = "small"> +Collected editions of the works of Laurence Sterne appeared in 1779, +1780; edited by G. Saintsbury, 1894; by Wilbur L. Cross, +1906.</span></p> + +<p class = "small space"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Life.</span>—An account of the life and +writings of the author is prefixed to the edition of his Works, 1779; +a life of the author written by himself in edition of works, 1780; +by Sir W. Scott in edition of Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, +1867; by H. D. Traill, 1878; by P. H. Fitzgerald, 1896; +Laurence Sterne in Germany, by H. W. Thayer, 1905; Life and Times, +by Wilbur L. Cross, 1909; A Study, by Walter S. Sichel, 1910; Life +and Letters, by Lewis Melville, 1911.</p> + +<p class = "footnote"> +<a name = "note_I_1" id = "note_I_1" href = "#tag_I_1">1.</a> +It is perhaps barely necessary to observe that the parallel does not +extend to a further parallel between republication and tale-bearing. +Once published, the thing is public.</p> + + +<div class = "page"> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxvii" id = "intro_xxvii">xxvii</a></span> + +<div class = "heading"> +<p class = "ital"> +⁂ <a name = "text" id = "text">The text</a> which has been here adopted +is that of the ten-volume edition, first printed in <em>1781</em>, and +reprinted several times before the end of the century, which is as near +as anything to the “standard” Sterne. It seems, however, to have had no +competent editing; and the renumbering of the chapters to suit the +<em>four</em> volumes, in which <em>Tristram</em> was printed, +completely upsets the original and important division into <em>nine</em> +volumes, or books, which has here, as in some other editions, been +restored. Another piece of thoughtlessness was that of sticking the +Dedication, which originally came between the eighth and ninth volumes, +or books, at the beginning of the <em>fourth</em> volume as reprinted, +thereby making nonsense or puzzle of Sterne’s joke about <em>à +priori</em>. It should be observed that the Dedication to Pitt, which +here leads off, was not prefixed till the <em>second</em> edition of the +original, and that sometimes in the last-century editions it appears +displaced at a later spot. No attempt has been made to correct any +oddities of spelling that are not clearly mere misprints.</p> + +</div> +</div> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "intro_xxviii" id = "intro_xxviii">xxviii</a></span> + +<h3 class = "extended"> +<a name = "contents" id = "contents">CONTENTS</a></h3> + +<table class = "toc" summary = "table of contents"> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td class = "smallest"> +PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book I. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page3">3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +II. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page59">59</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +III. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page113">113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +IV. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page176">176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book V. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page251">251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +VI. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page300">300</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +VII. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page349">349</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +VIII. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page395">395</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class = "smallcaps"><span class = "opaque">Book +IX. </span></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page441">441</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<div class = "page"> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page1" id = "page1">1</a></span> + +<h2><a name = "titlepage" id = "titlepage"> +<span class = "small">THE LIFE AND OPINIONS</span></a><br /> +<span class = "tiny">OF</span><br /> +<span class = "extended">TRISTRAM SHANDY</span><br /> +<span class = "smaller">GENTLEMAN</span></h2> + +<div class = "heading"> +<p class = "center"> +<span class = "greek" +title = "Tarassei tous Anthrôpous ou ta Pragmata,">Ταράσσει τοὺς Ἀνθρώπους οὐ τὰ Πράγματα,</span><br /> +<span class = "greek" title = "Alla ta peri tôn Pragmatôn Dogmata.">Ἀλλὰ +τὰ περὶ τῶν Πραγμάτων Δόγματα.</span></p> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class = "page"> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page2" id = "page2">2</a></span> + +<h3><a name = "dedic_pitt" id = "dedic_pitt"> +<span class = "smaller">TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE</span></a><br /> +<span class = "extended">MR. PITT</span></h3> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">Sir</span>,—Never poor Wight of a +Dedicator had less hopes from his Dedication, than I have from this of +mine; for it is written in a bye corner of the kingdom, and in a retir’d +thatch’d house, where I live in a constant endeavour to fence against +the infirmities of ill health, and other evils of life, by mirth; being +firmly persuaded that every time a man smiles,——but much +more so, when he laughs, it adds something to this Fragment of Life.</p> + +<p>I humbly beg, Sir, that you will honour this book, by taking +it——(not under your Protection,——it must protect +itself, but)——into the country with you; where, if I am ever +told, it has made you smile; or can conceive it has beguiled you of one +moment’s pain——I shall think myself as happy as a +minister of state;———perhaps much happier than any one +(one only excepted) that I have read or heard of.</p> + +<div class = "right"> +<p class = "center"> +I am, <span class = "smallroman">GREAT SIR</span>,<br /> +(and what is more to your Honour)<br /> +I am, <span class = "smallroman">GOOD SIR</span>,<br /> +Your Well-wisher, and<br /> +most humble Fellow-subject,</p> +</div> + +<p class = "right"> +THE AUTHOR.</p> + +</div> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page3" id = "page3">3</a></span> + +<h2><span class = "small">THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF</span><br /> +TRISTRAM SHANDY, GENT.</h2> + + + + +<h3><a name = "bookI" id = "bookI">BOOK I</a></h3> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapI" id = "bookI_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I wish</span> either my father or my +mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound +to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly +consider’d how much depended upon what they were then doing;—that +not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but +that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps +his genius and the very cast of his mind;—and, for aught they knew +to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their +turn from the humours and dispositions which were then +uppermost;——Had they duly weighed and considered all this, +and proceeded accordingly,——I am verily persuaded I +should have made a quite different figure in the world from that in +which the reader is likely to see me.—Believe me, good folks, this +is not so inconsiderable a thing as many of you may think it;—you +have all, I dare say, heard of the animal spirits, as how they are +transfused from father to son, &c., &c.—and a great deal +to that purpose:—Well, you may take my word, that nine parts in +ten of a man’s sense or his nonsense, his successes and miscarriages in +this world depend upon their motions and activity, and the different +tracts and trains you put them into, so that when they are once set +a-going, whether right or wrong, ’tis not a halfpenny matter,—away +they go cluttering like hey-go mad; and by treading the same steps over +and over again, they presently make a road of it, as plain and as smooth +as a garden-walk, which, when they are once used to, the Devil himself +sometimes shall not be able to drive them off it.</p> + +<p><i>Pray, my Dear</i>, quoth my mother, <i>have you not forgot to wind +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page4" id = "page4">4</a></span> +up the clock?———Good G—!</i> cried my father, +making an exclamation, but taking care to moderate his voice at the same +time,——<i>Did ever woman, since the creation of the world, +interrupt a man with such a silly question?</i> Pray, what was your +father saying?———Nothing.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapII" id = "bookI_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p>———Then, positively, there is nothing in the +question that I can see, either good or bad.——Then, let me +tell you, Sir, it was a very unseasonable question at +least,—because it scattered and dispersed the animal spirits, +whose business it was to have escorted and gone hand in hand with the +<i>HOMUNCULUS</i>, and conducted him safe to the place destined for his +reception.</p> + +<p>The <span class = "smallcaps">Homunculus</span>, Sir, in however low +and ludicrous a light he may appear, in this age of levity, to the eye +of folly or prejudice;—to the eye of reason in scientifick +research, he stands confess’d—a <span class = +"smallcaps">Being</span> guarded and circumscribed with +rights.——The minutest philosophers, who, by the bye, have +the most enlarged understandings (their souls being inversely as their +enquiries), shew us incontestably, that the <span class = +"smallcaps">Homunculus</span> is created by the same +hand,—engender’d in the same course of nature,—endow’d with +the same locomotive powers and faculties with us:—That he consists +as we do, of skin, hair, fat, flesh, veins, arteries, ligaments, nerves, +cartilages, bones, marrow, brains, glands, genitals, humours, and +articulations;—is a Being of as much activity,—and, in all +senses of the word, as much and as truly our fellow-creature as my Lord +Chancellor of <i>England</i>.—He may be benefited,—he may be +injured,—he may obtain redress;—in a word, he has all the +claims and rights of humanity, which <i>Tully</i>, <i>Puffendorf</i>, or +the best ethick writers allow to arise out of that state and +relation.</p> + +<p>Now, dear Sir, what if any accident had befallen him in his way +alone!—or that, through terror of it, natural to so young a +traveller, my little Gentleman had got to his journey’s end miserably +spent;—his muscular strength and virility worn down to a +thread;—his own animal spirits ruffled beyond +description,—and that in this sad disordered state of nerves, he +had lain down a prey to sudden starts, or a series of melancholy dreams +and fancies, for nine long, long months together.—I +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page5" id = "page5">5</a></span> +tremble to think what a foundation had been laid for a thousand +weaknesses both of body and mind, which no skill of the physician or the +philosopher could ever afterwards have set thoroughly to rights.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapIII" id = "bookI_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">To</span> my uncle Mr. <i>Toby Shandy</i> +do I stand indebted for the preceding anecdote, to whom my father, who +was an excellent natural philosopher, and much given to close reasoning +upon the smallest matters, had oft, and heavily complained of the +injury; but once more particularly, as my uncle <i>Toby</i> well +remember’d, upon his observing a most unaccountable obliquity +(as he call’d it) in my manner of setting up my top, and +justifying the principles upon which I had done it,—the old +gentleman shook his head, and in a tone more expressive by half of +sorrow than reproach,—he said his heart all along foreboded, and +he saw it verified in this, and from a thousand other observations he +had made upon me, That I should neither think nor act like any other +man’s child:—<i>But alas!</i> continued he, shaking his head a +second time, and wiping away a tear which was trickling down his cheeks, +<i>My Tristram’s misfortunes began nine months before ever he came into +the world</i>.</p> + +<p>—My mother, who was sitting by, look’d up,—but she knew +no more than her backside what my father meant,—but my uncle, Mr. +<i>Toby Shandy</i>, who had been often informed of the +affair,—understood him very well.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapIV" id = "bookI_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I know</span> there are readers in the +world, as well as many other good people in it, who are no readers at +all, who find themselves ill at ease, unless they are let into the whole +secret from first to last, of everything which concerns you.</p> + +<p>It is in pure compliance with this humour of theirs, and from a +backwardness in my nature to disappoint any one soul living, that I have +been so very particular already. As my life and opinions are likely to +make some noise in the world, and, if I +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page6" id = "page6">6</a></span> +conjecture right, will take in all ranks, professions, and denominations +of men whatever,—be no less read than the <i>Pilgrim’s +Progress</i> itself—and in the end, prove the very thing which +<i>Montaigne</i> dreaded his Essays should turn out, that is, +a book for a parlour-window;—I find it necessary to +consult every one a little in his turn; and therefore must beg pardon +for going on a little farther in the same way: For which cause, right +glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself in the way I have +done; and that I am able to go on, tracing everything in it, as +<i>Horace</i> says, <i>ab Ovo</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Horace</i>, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether: +But that gentleman is speaking only of an epic poem or a +tragedy;—(I forget which),—besides, if it was not so, +I should beg Mr. <i>Horace’s</i> pardon;—for in writing what +I have set about, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor +to any man’s rules that ever lived.</p> + +<p>To such, however, as do not choose to go so far back into these +things, I can give no better advice, than that they skip over the +remaining part of this chapter; for I declare before-hand, ’tis wrote +only for the curious and inquisitive.</p> + +<p><img src = "images/onedash.gif" width = "70" height = "12" +alt = "----" /> +Shut the door. +<img src = "images/onedash.gif" width = "200" height = "12" +alt = "----" /> +I was begot in the night, betwixt the first <i>Sunday</i> and the first +<i>Monday</i> in the month of <i>March</i>, in the year of our Lord one +thousand seven hundred and eighteen. I am positive I was.—But +how I came to be so very particular in my account of a thing which +happened before I was born, is owing to another small anecdote known +only in our own family, but now made publick for the better clearing up +this point.</p> + +<p>My father, you must know, who was originally a <i>Turkey</i> +merchant, but had left off business for some years, in order to retire +to, and die upon, his paternal estate in the county of +———, was, I believe, one of the most regular men +in everything he did, whether ’twas matter of business, or matter of +amusement, that ever lived. As a small specimen of this extreme +exactness of his, to which he was in truth a slave,—he had made it +a rule for many years of his life,—on the first +<i>Sunday-night</i> of every month throughout the whole year,—as +certain as ever the <i>Sunday-night</i> came,——to wind up a +large house-clock, which we had standing on the back-stairs head, with +his own hands:—And being somewhere between fifty and sixty years +of age at the time I have been speaking of,—he had likewise +gradually brought some other little family concernments to the same +period, in order, as he would often say to my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to get +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page7" id = "page7">7</a></span> +them all out of the way at one time, and be no more plagued and pestered +with them the rest of the month.</p> + +<p>It was attended but with one misfortune, which, in a great measure, +fell upon myself, and the effects of which I fear I shall carry with me +to my grave; namely, that from an unhappy association of ideas, which +have no connection in nature, it so fell out at length, that my poor +mother could never hear the said clock wound up,——but the +thoughts of some other things unavoidably popped into her head—and +<i>vice versâ</i>:——Which strange combination of ideas, the +sagacious <i>Locke</i>, who certainly understood the nature of these +things better than most men, affirms to have produced more wry actions +than all other sources of prejudice whatsoever.</p> + +<p>But this by the bye.</p> + +<p>Now it appears by a memorandum in my father’s pocket-book, which now +lies upon the table, “That on <i>Lady-day</i>, which was on the 25th of +the same month in which I date my geniture,——my father set +out upon his journey to <i>London</i>, with my eldest brother +<i>Bobby</i>, to fix him at <i>Westminster</i> school;” and, as it +appears from the same authority, “That he did not get down to his wife +and family till the <i>second week</i> in <i>May</i> +following,”—it brings the thing almost to a certainty. However, +what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all +possibility of doubt.</p> + +<p>———But pray, Sir, What was your father doing all +<i>December</i>, <i>January</i>, and <i>February?</i>——Why, +Madam,—he was all that time afflicted with a Sciatica.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapV" id = "bookI_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">On</span> the fifth day of <i>November</i>, +1718, which to the æra fixed on, was as near nine calendar months as any +husband could in reason have expected,—was I <i>Tristram +Shandy</i>, Gentleman, brought forth into this scurvy and disasterous +world of ours.——I wish I had been born in the Moon, or +in any of the planets (except <i>Jupiter</i> or <i>Saturn</i>, because I +never could bear cold weather) for it could not well have fared worse +with me in any of them (though I will not answer for <i>Venus</i>) than +it has in this vile, dirty planet of ours,—which, o’ my +conscience, with reverence be it spoken, I take to be made up of +the shreds and clippings of the rest;——not but the planet is +well enough, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page8" id = "page8">8</a></span> +provided a man could be born in it to a great title or to a great +estate; or could any how contrive to be called up to publick charges, +and employments of dignity or power;——but that is not my +case;——and therefore every man will speak of the fair as his +own market has gone in it;———for which cause I affirm +it over again to be one of the vilest worlds that ever was +made;—for I can truly say, that from the first hour I drew my +breath in it, to this, that I can now scarce draw it at all, for an +asthma I got in scating against the wind in +<i>Flanders</i>;—I have been the continual sport of what the +world calls Fortune; and though I will not wrong her by saying, She has +ever made me feel the weight of any great or signal +evil;——yet with all the good temper in the world, +I affirm it of her, that in every stage of my life, and at every +turn and corner where she could get fairly at me, the ungracious duchess +has pelted me with a set of as pitiful misadventures and cross accidents +as ever small <span class = "smallcaps">Hero</span> sustained.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapVI" id = "bookI_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> the beginning of the last +chapter, I informed you exactly <i>when</i> I was born; but I did +not inform you <i>how. No</i>, that particular was reserved entirely for +a chapter by itself;—besides, Sir, as you and I are in a manner +perfect strangers to each other, it would not have been proper to have +let you into too many circumstances relating to myself all at +once.—You must have a little patience. I have undertaken, you +see, to write not only my life, but my opinions also; hoping and +expecting that your knowledge of my character, and of what kind of a +mortal I am, by the one, would give you a better relish for the other: +As you proceed farther with me, the slight acquaintance, which is now +beginning betwixt us, will grow into familiarity; and that, unless one +of us is in fault, will terminate in friendship.—<i>O diem +præclarum!</i>—then nothing which has touched me will be thought +trifling in its nature, or tedious in its telling. Therefore, my dear +friend and companion, if you should think me somewhat sparing of my +narrative on my first setting out—bear with me,—and let me +go on, and tell my story my own way:—Or, if I should seem now and +then to trifle upon the road,—or should sometimes put on a fool’s +cap with a bell to it, for a moment or two as we pass along,—don’t +fly off,—but rather courteously +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page9" id = "page9">9</a></span> +give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears upon my +outside;—and as we jog on, either laugh with me, or at me, or in +short, do anything,—only keep your temper.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapVII" id = "bookI_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> the same village where my father +and my mother dwelt, dwelt also a thin, upright, motherly, notable, good +old body of a midwife, who with the help of a little plain good sense, +and some years full employment in her business, in which she had all +along trusted little to her own efforts, and a great deal to those of +dame Nature,—had acquired, in her way, no small degree of +reputation in the world:——by which word <i>world</i>, need I +in this place inform your worship, that I would be understood to mean no +more of it, than a small circle described upon the circle of the great +world, of four <i>English</i> miles diameter, or thereabouts, of which +the cottage where the good old woman lived, is supposed to be the +centre?—She had been left, it seems, a widow in great +distress, with three or four small children, in her forty-seventh year; +and as she was at that time a person of decent carriage,—grave +deportment,—a woman moreover of few words, and withal an +object of compassion, whose distress, and silence under it, called out +the louder for a friendly lift: the wife of the parson of the parish was +touched with pity; and having often lamented an inconvenience, to which +her husband’s flock had for many years been exposed, inasmuch as there +was no such thing as a midwife, of any kind or degree, to be got at, let +the case have been never so urgent, within less than six or seven long +miles riding; which seven said long miles in dark nights and dismal +roads, the country thereabouts being nothing but a deep clay, was almost +equal to fourteen; and that in effect was sometimes next to having no +midwife at all; it came into her head, that it would be doing as +seasonable a kindness to the whole parish, as to the poor creature +herself, to get her a little instructed in some of the plain principles +of the business, in order to set her up in it. As no woman thereabouts +was better qualified to execute the plan she had formed than herself, +the gentlewoman very charitably undertook it; and having great influence +over the female part of the parish, she found no difficulty in effecting +it to the utmost of her wishes. In truth, the parson join’d his interest +with his wife’s in the whole affair; and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page10" id = "page10">10</a></span> +in order to do things as they should be, and give the poor soul as good +a title by law to practise, as his wife had given by +institution,—he chearfully paid the fees for the ordinary’s +licence himself, amounting in the whole, to the sum of eighteen +shillings and four pence; so that betwixt them both, the good woman was +fully invested in the real and corporal possession of her office, +together with all its <i>rights, members, and appurtenances +whatsoever</i>.</p> + +<p>These last words, you must know, were not according to the old form +in which such licences, faculties, and powers usually ran, which in like +cases had heretofore been granted to the sisterhood. But it was +according to a neat <i>Formula</i> of <i>Didius</i> his own devising, +who having a particular turn for taking to pieces, and new framing over +again, all kind of instruments in that way, not only hit upon this +dainty amendment, but coaxed many of the old licensed matrons in the +neighbourhood, to open their faculties afresh, in order to have this +wham-wham of his inserted.</p> + +<p>I own I never could envy <i>Didius</i> in these kinds of fancies of +his:—But every man to his own taste.—Did not Dr. +<i>Kunastrokius</i>, that great man, at his leisure hours, take the +greatest delight imaginable in combing of asses tails, and plucking the +dead hairs out with his teeth, though he had tweezers always in his +pocket? Nay, if you come to that, Sir, have not the wisest of men in all +ages, not excepting <i>Solomon</i> himself,—have they not had +their <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horses</span>;—their running +horses,—their coins and their cockle-shells, their drums and their +trumpets, their fiddles, their pallets,—their maggots and their +butterflies?—and so long as a man rides his <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> peaceably and quietly along the King’s +highway, and neither compels you or me to get up behind him,—pray, +Sir, what have either you or I to do with it?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapVIII" id = "bookI_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p>—<i>De gustibus non est disputandum</i>;—that is, there +is no disputing against <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horses</span>; +and for my part, I seldom do; nor could I with any sort of grace, +had I been an enemy to them at the bottom; for happening, at certain +intervals and changes of the moon, to be both fidler and painter, +according as the fly stings:—Be it known to you, that I keep a +couple of pads myself, upon which, in their turns, (nor do I care who +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page11" id = "page11">11</a></span> +knows it) I frequently ride out and take the air;—though +sometimes, to my shame be it spoken, I take somewhat longer +journies than what a wise man would think altogether right.—But +the truth is,—I am not a wise man;—and besides am a +mortal of so little consequence in the world, it is not much matter what +I do: so I seldom fret or fume at all about it: Nor does it much disturb +my rest, when I see such great Lords and tall Personages as hereafter +follow;—such, for instance, as my Lord A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, +K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, and so on, all of a row, mounted upon their +several horses;—some with large stirrups, getting on in a more +grave and sober pace;——others on the contrary, tucked up to +their very chins, with whips across their mouths, scouring and +scampering it away like so many little party-coloured devils astride a +mortgage,—and as if some of them were resolved to break their +necks.——So much the better—say I to myself;—for +in case the worst should happen, the world will make a shift to do +excellently well without them; and for the +rest,——why——God speed them——e’en let +them ride on without opposition from me; for were their lordships +unhorsed this very night—’tis ten to one but that many of them +would be worse mounted by one half before to-morrow morning.</p> + +<p>Not one of these instances therefore can be said to break in upon my +rest.——But there is an instance, which I own puts me off my +guard, and that is, when I see one born for great actions, and what is +still more for his honour, whose nature ever inclines him to good +ones;—when I behold such a one, my Lord, like yourself, whose +principles and conduct are as generous and noble as his blood, and whom, +for that reason, a corrupt world cannot spare one +moment;—when I see such a one, my Lord, mounted, though it is but +for a minute beyond the time which my love to my country has prescribed +to him, and my zeal for his glory wishes,—then, my Lord, +I cease to be a philosopher, and in the first transport of an +honest impatience, I wish the <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>, with all his fraternity, at the +Devil.</p> + +<p class = "inset"> +“<span class = "smallcaps">My Lord</span>,</p> + +<p>“I maintain this to be a dedication, notwithstanding its singularity +in the three great essentials of matter, form, and place: I beg, +therefore, you will accept it as such, and that you will permit me to +lay it, with the most respectful humility, at your Lordship’s +feet,—when you are upon them,—which +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page12" id = "page12">12</a></span> +you can be when you please;—and that is, my Lord, whenever there +is occasion for it, and I will add, to the best purposes too. +I have the honour to be,</p> + +<div class = "right"> + +<p class = "center"> +“<i>My Lord,<br /> +Your Lordship’s most obedient,<br /> +and most devoted,<br /> +and most humble servant</i>,</p> + +</div> + +<p class = "right smallcaps"> +Tristram Shandy.”</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapIX" id = "bookI_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I solemnly</span> declare to all mankind, +that the above dedication was made for no one Prince, Prelate, Pope, or +Potentate,—Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, or Baron, of this, or +any other Realm in Christendom;——nor has it yet been hawked +about, or offered publicly or privately, directly or indirectly, to any +one person or personage, great or small; but is honestly a true +Virgin-Dedication untried on, upon any soul living.</p> + +<p>I labour this point so particularly, merely to remove any offence or +objection which might arise against it from the manner in which I +propose to make the most of it;—which is the putting it up fairly +to public sale; which I now do.</p> + +<p>——Every author has a way of his own in bringing his +points to bear;—for my own part, as I hate chaffering and higgling +for a few guineas in a dark entry;—I resolved within myself, +from the very beginning, to deal squarely and openly with your Great +Folks in this affair, and try whether I should not come off the better +by it.</p> + +<p>If therefore there is any one Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, or +Baron, in these his Majesty’s dominions, who stands in need of a tight, +genteel dedication, and whom the above will suit, (for by the bye, +unless it suits in some degree, I will not part +with it)——it is much at his service for fifty +guineas;——which I am positive is twenty guineas less than it +ought to be afforded for, by any man of genius.</p> + +<p>My Lord, if you examine it over again, it is far from being a gross +piece of daubing, as some dedications are. The design, your Lordship +sees, is good,—the colouring transparent,—the drawing not +amiss;—or to speak more like a man of science,—and measure +my piece in the painter’s scale, divided into 20,—I believe, +my Lord, the outlines will turn out as 12,—the composition +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page13" id = "page13">13</a></span> +as 9,—the colouring as 6,—the expression 13 and a +half,—and the design,—if I may be allowed, my Lord, to +understand my own <i>design</i>, and supposing absolute perfection in +designing, to be as 20,—I think it cannot well fall short of +19. Besides all this,—there is keeping in it, and the dark strokes +in the <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>, (which is a +secondary figure, and a kind of back-ground to the whole) give great +force to the principal lights in your own figure, and make it come off +wonderfully;——and besides, there is an air of originality in +the <i>tout ensemble</i>.</p> + +<p>Be pleased, my good Lord, to order the sum to be paid into the hands +of Mr. <i>Dodsley</i>, for the benefit of the author; and in the next +edition care shall be taken that this chapter be expunged, and your +Lordship’s titles, distinctions, arms, and good actions, be placed at +the front of the preceding chapter: All which, from the words, <i>De +gustibus non est disputandum</i>, and whatever else in this book relates +to <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horses</span>, but no more, shall +stand dedicated to your Lordship.—The rest I dedicate to the <span +class = "smallcaps">Moon</span>, who, by the bye, of all the <span class += "smallcaps">Patrons</span> or <span class = "smallcaps">Matrons</span> +I can think of, has most power to set my book a-going, and make the +world run mad after it.</p> + +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Bright Goddess</i>,</p> + +<p>If thou art not too busy with <ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: expected spelling ‘Candide’"><span class = +"smallcaps">Candid</span></ins> and Miss <span class = +"smallcaps">Cunegund’s</span> affairs,—take <i>Tristram +Shandy’s</i> under thy protection also.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapX" id = "bookI_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Whatever</span> degree of small merit the +act of benignity in favour of the midwife might justly claim, or in whom +that claim truly rested,—at first sight seems not very material to +this history;——certain however it was, that the gentlewoman, +the parson’s wife, did run away at that time with the whole of it: And +yet, for my life, I cannot help thinking but that the parson +himself, though he had not the good fortune to hit upon the design +first,—yet, as he heartily concurred in it the moment it was laid +before him, and as heartily parted with his money to carry it into +execution, had a claim to some share of it,—if not to a full half +of whatever honour was due to it.</p> + +<p>The world at that time was pleased to determine the matter +otherwise.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page14" id = "page14">14</a></span> +<p>Lay down the book, and I will allow you half a day to give a probable +guess at the grounds of this procedure.</p> + +<p>Be it known then, that, for about five years before the date of the +midwife’s licence, of which you have had so circumstantial an +account,—the parson we have to do with had made himself a +country-talk by a breach of all decorum, which he had committed against +himself, his station, and his office;—and that was in never +appearing better, or otherwise mounted, than upon a lean, sorry, +jack-ass of a horse, value about one pound fifteen shillings; who, to +shorten all description of him, was full brother to <i>Rosinante</i>, as +far as similitude congenial could make him; for he answered his +description to a hair-breadth in every thing,—except that I do not +remember ’tis any where said, that <i>Rosinante</i> was broken-winded; +and that, moreover, <i>Rosinante</i>, as is the happiness of most +<i>Spanish</i> horses, fat or lean,—was undoubtedly a horse at all +points.</p> + +<p>I know very well that the <span class = "smallcaps">Hero’s</span> +horse was a horse of chaste deportment, which may have given grounds for +the contrary opinion: But it is as certain at the same time, that +<i>Rosinante’s</i> continency (as may be demonstrated from the +adventure of the <i>Yanguesian</i> carriers) proceeded from no bodily +defect or cause whatsoever, but from the temperance and orderly current +of his blood.—And let me tell you, Madam, there is a great deal of +very good chastity in the world, in behalf of which you could not say +more for your life.</p> + +<p>Let that be as it may, as my purpose is to do extra justice to every +creature brought upon the stage of this dramatic +work,—I could not stifle this distinction in favour of Don +<i>Quixote’s</i> horse;——in all other points, the parson’s +horse, I say, was just such another,—for he was as lean, and +as lank, and as sorry a jade, as <span class = +"smallcaps">Humility</span> herself could have bestrided.</p> + +<p>In the estimation of here and there a man of weak judgment, it was +greatly in the parson’s power to have helped the figure of this horse of +his,—for he was master of a very handsome demi-peak’d saddle, +quilted on the seat with green plush, garnished with a double row of +silver-headed studs, and a noble pair of shining brass stirrups, with a +housing altogether suitable, of grey superfine cloth, with an edging of +black lace, terminating in a deep, black, silk fringe, <i>poudré +d’or</i>,—all which he had purchased in the pride and prime of his +life, together with a grand embossed bridle, ornamented at all points as +it should be.——But not caring to banter his beast, he had +hung all these up behind his study door:—and, in lieu of them, had +seriously +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page15" id = "page15">15</a></span> +befitted him with just such a bridle and such a saddle, as the figure +and value of such a steed might well and truly deserve.</p> + +<p>In the several sallies about his parish, and in the neighbouring +visits to the gentry who lived around him,—you will easily +comprehend, that the parson, so appointed, would both hear and see +enough to keep his philosophy from rusting. To speak the truth, he never +could enter a village, but he caught the attention of both old and +young.——Labour stood still as he pass’d——the +bucket hung suspended in the middle of the well,——the +spinning-wheel forgot its round,——even chuck-farthing and +shuffle-cap themselves stood gaping till he had got out of sight; and as +his movement was not of the quickest, he had generally time enough upon +his hands to make his observations,—to hear the groans of the +serious,—and the laughter of the light-hearted;—all which he +bore with excellent tranquillity.—His character was,—he +loved a jest in his heart—and as he saw himself in the true point +of ridicule, he would say he could not be angry with others for seeing +him in a light, in which he so strongly saw himself: So that to his +friends, who knew his foible was not the love of money, and who +therefore made the less scruple in bantering the extravagance of his +humour,—instead of giving the true cause,—he chose rather to +join in the laugh against himself; and as he never carried one single +ounce of flesh upon his own bones, being altogether as spare a figure as +his beast,—he would sometimes insist upon it, that the horse was +as good as the rider deserved;—that they were, +centaur-like,—both of a piece. At other times, and in other moods, +when his spirits were above the temptation of false wit,—he would +say, he found himself going off fast in a consumption; and, with great +gravity, would pretend, he could not bear the sight of a fat horse, +without a dejection of heart, and a sensible alteration in his pulse; +and that he had made choice of the lean one he rode upon, not only to +keep himself in countenance, but in spirits.</p> + +<p>At different times he would give fifty humorous and apposite reasons +for riding a meek-spirited jade of a broken-winded horse, preferably to +one of mettle;—for on such a one he could sit mechanically, and +meditate as delightfully <i>de vanitate mundi et fugâ sæculi</i>, as +with the advantage of a death’s-head before him;—that, in all +other exercitations, he could spend his time, as he rode slowly +along,—to as much account as in his study;—that he could +draw up an argument in his sermon,—or a hole in his breeches, as +steadily on the one as in the other;—that brisk +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page16" id = "page16">16</a></span> +trotting and slow argumentation, like wit and judgment, were two +incompatible movements.—But that upon his steed—he could +unite and reconcile every thing,—he could compose his +sermon—he could compose his cough,——and, in case +nature gave a call that way, he could likewise compose himself to +sleep.—In short, the parson upon such encounters would assign any +cause but the true cause,—and he with-held the true one, only out +of a nicety of temper, because he thought it did honour to him.</p> + +<p>But the truth of the story was as follows: In the first years of this +gentleman’s life, and about the time when the superb saddle and bridle +were purchased by him, it had been his manner, or vanity, or call it +what you will,—to run into the opposite extreme.—In the +language of the county where he dwelt, he was said to have loved a good +horse, and generally had one of the best in the whole parish standing in +his stable always ready for saddling; and as the nearest midwife, as I +told you, did not live nearer to the village than seven miles, and in a +vile country,—it so fell out that the poor gentleman was scarce a +whole week together without some piteous application for his beast; and +as he was not an unkind-hearted man, and every case was more pressing +and more distressful than the last,—as much as he loved his beast, +he had never a heart to refuse him; the upshot of which was generally +this, that his horse was either clapp’d, or spavin’d, or +greaz’d;—or he was twitter-bon’d, or broken-winded, or something, +in short, or other had befallen him, which would let him carry no +flesh;—so that he had every nine or ten months a bad horse to get +rid of,—and a good horse to purchase in his stead.</p> + +<p>What the loss on such a balance might amount to, <i>communibus +annis</i>, I would leave to a special jury of sufferers in the same +traffick, to determine;—but let it be what it would, the honest +gentleman bore it for many years without a murmur, till at length, by +repeated ill accidents of the kind, he found it necessary to take the +thing under consideration; and upon weighing the whole, and summing it +up in his mind, he found it not only disproportioned to his other +expences, but withal so heavy an article in itself, as to disable him +from any other act of generosity in his parish: Besides this, he +considered that with half the sum thus galloped away, he could do ten +times as much good;—and what still weighed more with him than all +other considerations put together, was this, that it confined all his +charity into one particular channel, and where, as he fancied, it was +the least +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page17" id = "page17">17</a></span> +wanted, namely, to the child-bearing and child-getting part of his +parish; reserving nothing for the impotent,—nothing for the +aged,—nothing for the many comfortless scenes he was hourly called +forth to visit, where poverty, and sickness, and affliction dwelt +together.</p> + +<p>For these reasons he resolved to discontinue the expence; and there +appeared but two possible ways to extricate him clearly out of +it;—and these were, either to make it an irrevocable law never +more to lend his steed upon any application whatever,—or else be +content to ride the last poor devil, such as they had made him, with all +his aches and infirmities, to the very end of the chapter.</p> + +<p>As he dreaded his own constancy in the first—he very chearfully +betook himself to the second; and though he could very well have +explained it, as I said, to his honour,—yet, for that very reason, +he had a spirit above it; choosing rather to bear the contempt of his +enemies, and the laughter of his friends, than undergo the pain of +telling a story, which might seem a panegyrick upon himself.</p> + +<p>I have the highest idea of the spiritual and refined sentiments of +this reverend gentleman, from this single stroke in his character, which +I think comes up to any of the honest refinements of the peerless knight +of <i>La Mancha</i>, whom, by the bye, with all his follies, I love +more, and would actually have gone farther to have paid a visit to, than +the greatest hero of antiquity.</p> + +<p>But this is not the moral of my story: The thing I had in view was to +shew the temper of the world in the whole of this affair.—For you +must know, that so long as this explanation would have done the parson +credit,—the devil a soul could find it out,—I suppose +his enemies would not, and that his friends could not.——But +no sooner did he bestir himself in behalf of the midwife, and pay the +expences of the ordinary’s licence to set her up,—but the whole +secret came out; every horse he had lost, and two horses more than ever +he had lost, with all the circumstances of their destruction, were known +and distinctly remembered.—The story ran like wild-fire—“The +parson had a returning fit of pride which had just seized him; and he +was going to be well mounted once again in his life; and if it was so, +’twas plain as the sun at noon-day, he would pocket the expence of the +licence, ten times told, the very first year:—So that every body +was left to judge what were his views in this act of charity.”</p> + +<p>What were his views in this, and in every other action of his +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page18" id = "page18">18</a></span> +life,—or rather what were the opinions which floated in the brains +of other people concerning it, was a thought which too much floated in +his own, and too often broke in upon his rest, when he should have been +sound asleep.</p> + +<p>About ten years ago this gentleman had the good fortune to be made +entirely easy upon that score,—it being just so long since he left +his parish,—and the whole world at the same time behind +him,—and stands accountable to a Judge of whom he will have no +cause to complain.</p> + +<p>But there is a fatality attends the actions of some men: Order them +as they will, they pass thro’ a certain medium, which so twists and +refracts them from their true directions——that, with all the +titles to praise which a rectitude of heart can give, the doers of them +are nevertheless forced to live and die without it.</p> + +<p>Of the truth of which, this gentleman was a painful +example.——But to know by what means this came to +pass,—and to make that knowledge of use to you, I insist upon +it that you read the two following chapters, which contain such a sketch +of his life and conversation, as will carry its moral along with +it.—When this is done, if nothing stops us in our way, we will go +on with the midwife.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXI" id = "bookI_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Yorick</span> was this parson’s name, and, +what is very remarkable in it (as appears from a most ancient +account of the family, wrote upon strong vellum, and now in perfect +preservation) it had been exactly so spelt for +near,——I was within an ace of saying nine hundred +years;——but I would not shake my credit in telling an +improbable truth, however indisputable in itself;——and +therefore I shall content myself with only saying——It had +been exactly so spelt, without the least variation or transposition of a +single letter, for I do not know how long; which is more than I would +venture to say of one half of the best surnames in the kingdom; which, +in a course of years, have generally undergone as many chops and changes +as their owners.—Has this been owing to the pride, or to the shame +of the respective proprietors?—In honest truth, I think +sometimes to the one, and sometimes to the other, just as the temptation +has wrought. But a villainous affair it is, and will one day so blend +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page19" id = "page19">19</a></span> +and confound us altogether, that no one shall be able to stand up and +swear, “That his own great grandfather was the man who did either this +or that.”</p> + +<p>This evil had been sufficiently fenced against by the prudent care of +the <i>Yorick’s</i> family, and their religious preservation of these +records I quote, which do farther inform us, That the family was +originally of <i>Danish</i> extraction, and had been transplanted into +<i>England</i> as early as in the reign of <i>Horwendillus</i>, king of +<i>Denmark</i>, in whose court, it seems, an ancestor of this Mr. +<i>Yorick’s</i>, and from whom he was lineally descended, held a +considerable post to the day of his death. Of what nature this +considerable post was, this record saith not;—It only adds, That, +for near two centuries, it had been totally abolished, as altogether +unnecessary, not only in that court, but in every other court of the +Christian world.</p> + +<p>It has often come into my head, that this post could be no other than +that of the king’s chief Jester;—and that <i>Hamlet’s Yorick</i>, +in our <i>Shakespeare</i>, many of whose plays, you know, are founded +upon authenticated facts, was certainly the very man.</p> + +<p>I have not the time to look into <i>Saxo-Grammaticus’s Danish</i> +history, to know the certainty of this;—but if you have leisure, +and can easily get at the book, you may do it full as well yourself.</p> + +<p>I had just time, in my travels through <i>Denmark</i> with Mr. +<i>Noddy’s</i> eldest son, whom, in the year 1741, I accompanied as +governor, riding along with him at a prodigious rate thro’ most parts of +<i>Europe</i>, and of which original journey performed by us two, +a most delectable narrative will be given in the progress of this +work; I had just time, I say, and that was all, to prove the +truth of an observation made by a long sojourner in that +country;——namely, “That nature was neither very lavish, nor +was she very stingy in her gifts of genius and capacity to its +inhabitants;—but, like a discreet parent, was moderately kind to +them all; observing such an equal tenor in the distribution of her +favours, as to bring them, in those points, pretty near to a level with +each other; so that you will meet with few instances in that kingdom of +refined parts; but a great deal of good plain household understanding +amongst all ranks of people, of which everybody has a share;” which is, +I think, very right.</p> + +<p>With us, you see, the case is quite different:—we are all ups +and downs in this matter;—you are a great genius;—or ’tis +fifty to one, Sir, you are a great dunce and a blockhead;—not that +there is a total want of intermediate steps,—no,—we are not +so irregular as that comes to;—but the two extremes are +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page20" id = "page20">20</a></span> +more common, and in a greater degree in this unsettled island, where +nature, in her gifts and dispositions of this kind, is most whimsical +and capricious; fortune herself not being more so in the bequest of her +goods and chattels than she.</p> + +<p>This is all that ever staggered my faith in regard to <i>Yorick’s</i> +extraction, who, by what I can remember of him, and by all the accounts +I could ever get of him, seemed not to have had one single drop of +<i>Danish</i> blood in his whole crasis; in nine hundred years, it might +possibly have all run out:——I will not philosophize one +moment with you about it; for happen how it would, the fact was +this:—That instead of that cold phlegm and exact regularity of +sense and humours, you would have looked for, in one so +extracted;—he was, on the contrary, as mercurial and sublimated a +composition,—as heteroclite a creature in all his +declensions;—with as much life and whim, and <i>gaité de cœur</i> +about him, as the kindliest climate could have engendered and put +together. With all this sail, poor <i>Yorick</i> carried not one ounce +of ballast; he was utterly unpractised in the world; and, at the age of +twenty-six, knew just about as well how to steer his course in it, as a +romping, unsuspicious girl of thirteen: So that upon his first setting +out, the brisk gale of his spirits, as you will imagine, ran him foul +ten times in a day of somebody’s tackling; and as the grave and more +slow-paced were oftenest in his way,——you may likewise +imagine, ’twas with such he had generally the ill luck to get the most +entangled. For aught I know there might be some mixture of unlucky wit +at the bottom of such <i>Fracas</i>:——For, to speak the +truth, <i>Yorick</i> had an invincible dislike and opposition in his +nature to gravity;—not to gravity as such;—for where gravity +was wanted, he would be the most grave or serious of mortal men for days +and weeks together;—but he was an enemy to the affectation of it, +and declared open war against it, only as it appeared a cloak for +ignorance, or for folly: and then, whenever it fell in his way, however +sheltered and protected, he seldom gave it much quarter.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, in his wild way of talking, he would say that Gravity was +an errant scoundrel, and he would add,—of the most dangerous kind +too,—because a sly one; and that he verily believed, more honest, +well-meaning people were bubbled out of their goods and money by it in +one twelve-month, than by pocket-picking and shop-lifting in seven. In +the naked temper which a merry heart discovered, he would say, there was +no danger,—but to itself:—whereas the very essence of +gravity was +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page21" id = "page21">21</a></span> +design, and consequently deceit;—’twas a taught trick to gain +credit of the world for more sense and knowledge than a man was worth; +and that, with all its pretensions,—it was no better, but often +worse, than what a <i>French</i> wit had long ago defined +it,—<i>viz.</i> <i>A mysterious carriage of the body to cover the +defects of the mind</i>;—which definition of gravity, +<i>Yorick</i>, with great imprudence, would say, deserved to be wrote in +letters of gold.</p> + +<p>But, in plain truth, he was a man unhackneyed and unpractised in the +world, and was altogether as indiscreet and foolish on every other +subject of discourse where policy is wont to impress restraint. +<i>Yorick</i> had no impression but one, and that was what arose from +the nature of the deed spoken of; which impression he would usually +translate into plain <i>English</i> without any periphrasis;—and +too oft without much distinction of either person, time, or +place;—so that when mention was made of a pitiful or an ungenerous +proceeding——he never gave himself a moment’s time to reflect +who was the hero of the piece,——what his +station,——or how far he had power to hurt him +hereafter;——but if it was a dirty action,—without more +ado,—The man was a dirty fellow,—and so on.—And as his +comments had usually the ill fate to be terminated either in a <i>bon +mot</i>, or to be enlivened throughout with some drollery or humour of +expression, it gave wings to <i>Yorick’s</i> indiscretion. In a word, +tho’ he never sought, yet, at the same time, as he seldom shunned +occasions of saying what came uppermost, and without much +ceremony;——he had but too many temptations in life, of +scattering his wit and his humour,—his gibes and his jests about +him.——They were not lost for want of gathering.</p> + +<p>What were the consequences, and what was <i>Yorick’s</i> catastrophe +thereupon, you will read in the next chapter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXII" id = "bookI_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> <i>Mortgager</i> and +<i>Mortgagée</i> differ the one from the other, not more in length of +purse, than the <i>Jester</i> and <i>Jestée</i> do, in that of memory. +But in this the comparison between them runs, as the scholiasts call it, +upon all-four; which, by the bye, is upon one or two legs more than some +of the best of <i>Homer’s</i> can pretend to;—namely, That the one +raises a sum, and the other a laugh at your expence, and thinks no more +about it. Interest, however, still runs on in both cases;—the +periodical or accidental +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page22" id = "page22">22</a></span> +payments of it, just serving to keep the memory of the affair alive; +till, at length, in some evil hour,—pop comes the creditor upon +each, and by demanding principal upon the spot, together with full +interest to the very day, makes them both feel the full extent of their +obligations.</p> + +<p>As the reader (for I hate your <i>ifs</i>) has a thorough knowledge +of human nature, I need not say more to satisfy him, that my <span +class = "smallcaps">Hero</span> could not go on at this rate without +some slight experience of these incidental mementos. To speak the truth, +he had wantonly involved himself in a multitude of small book-debts of +this stamp, which, notwithstanding <i>Eugenius’s</i> frequent advice, he +too much disregarded; thinking, that as not one of them was contracted +thro’ any malignancy;—but, on the contrary, from an honesty of +mind, and a mere jocundity of humour, they would all of them be cross’d +out in course.</p> + +<p><i>Eugenius</i> would never admit this; and would often tell him, +that one day or other he would certainly be reckoned with; and he would +often add, in an accent of sorrowful apprehension,—to the +uttermost mite. To which <i>Yorick</i>, with his usual carelessness of +heart, would as often answer with a pshaw!—and if the subject was +started in the fields—with a hop, skip, and a jump at the end of +it; but if close pent up in the social chimney-corner, where the culprit +was barricado’d in, with a table and a couple of armchairs, and could +not so readily fly off in a tangent,—<i>Eugenius</i> would then go +on with his lecture upon discretion in words to this purpose, though +somewhat better put together.</p> + +<p>Trust me, dear <i>Yorick</i>, this unwary pleasantry of thine will +sooner or later bring thee into scrapes and difficulties, which no +after-wit can extricate thee out of.——In these sallies, too +oft, I see, it happens, that a person laughed at, considers himself +in the light of a person injured, with all the rights of such a +situation belonging to him; and when thou viewest him in that light too, +and reckons up his friends, his family, his kindred and +allies,——and musters up with them the many recruits which +will list under him from a sense of common danger;——’tis no +extravagant arithmetick to say, that for every ten jokes,—thou +hast got an hundred enemies; and till thou hast gone on, and raised a +swarm of wasps about thine ears, and art half stung to death by them, +thou wilt never be convinced it is so.</p> + +<p>I cannot suspect it in the man whom I esteem, that there is the least +spur from spleen or malevolence of intent in these +sallies——I believe and know them to be truly honest and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page23" id = "page23">23</a></span> +sportive:—But consider, my dear lad, that fools cannot distinguish +this,—and that knaves will not: and thou knowest not what it is, +either to provoke the one, or to make merry with the +other:——whenever they associate for mutual defence, depend +upon it, they will carry on the war in such a manner against thee, my +dear friend, as to make thee heartily sick of it, and of thy life +too.</p> + +<p>Revenge from some baneful corner shall level a tale of dishonour at +thee, which no innocence of heart or integrity of conduct shall set +right.——The fortunes of thy house shall totter,—thy +character, which led the way to them, shall bleed on every side of +it,—thy faith questioned,—thy works belied,—thy wit +forgotten,—thy learning trampled on. To wind up the last scene of +thy tragedy, <span class = "smallcaps">Cruelty</span> and <span class = +"smallcaps">Cowardice</span>, twin ruffians, hired and set on by <span +class = "smallcaps">Malice</span> in the dark, shall strike together at +all thy infirmities and mistakes:——The best of us, my dear +lad, lie open there,——and trust me,——trust me, +<i>Yorick, when to gratify a private appetite, it is once resolved upon, +that an innocent and an helpless creature shall be sacrificed, ’tis an +easy matter to pick up sticks enough from any thicket where it has +strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i> scarce ever heard this sad vaticination of his destiny +read over to him, but with a fear stealing from his eye, and a +promissory look attending it, that he was resolved, for the time to +come, to ride his tit with more sobriety.—But, alas, too +late!—a grand confederacy, with ***** and ***** at the head +of it, was formed before the first prediction of it.—The whole +plan of the attack, just as <i>Eugenius</i> had foreboded, was put in +execution all at once,—with so little mercy on the side of the +allies,—and so little suspicion in <i>Yorick</i>, of what was +carrying on against him,—that when he thought, good easy man! full +surely preferment was o’ ripening,—they had smote his root, and +then he fell, as many a worthy man had fallen before him.</p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i>, however, fought it out with all imaginable gallantry +for some time; till, overpowered by numbers, and worn out at length by +the calamities of the war,—but more so, by the ungenerous manner +in which it was carried on,—he threw down the sword; and though he +kept up his spirits in appearance to the last, he died, nevertheless, as +was generally thought, quite broken-hearted.</p> + +<p>What inclined <i>Eugenius</i> to the same opinion was as follows:</p> + +<p>A few hours before <i>Yorick</i> breathed his last, <i>Eugenius</i> +stept in with an intent to take his last sight and last farewell of him. +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page24" id = "page24">24</a></span> +Upon his drawing <i>Yorick’s</i> curtain, and asking how he felt +himself, <i>Yorick</i> looking up in his face took hold of his +hand,—and after thanking him for the many tokens of his friendship +to him, for which, he said, if it was their fate to meet +hereafter,—he would thank him again and again,—he told him, +he was within a few hours of giving his enemies the slip for +ever.—I hope not, answered <i>Eugenius</i>, with tears +trickling down his cheeks, and with the tenderest tone that ever man +spoke.—I hope not, <i>Yorick</i>, said +he.——<i>Yorick</i> replied, with a look up, and a gentle +squeeze of <i>Eugenius’s</i> hand, and that was all,—but it cut +<i>Eugenius</i> to his heart,—Come—come, <i>Yorick</i>, +quoth <i>Eugenius</i>, wiping his eyes, and summoning up the man within +him,—my dear lad, be comforted,—let not all thy spirits and +fortitude forsake thee at this crisis when thou most wants +them;——who knows what resources are in store, and what the +power of God may yet do for thee?——<i>Yorick</i> laid his +hand upon his heart, and gently shook his head;—For my part, +continued <i>Eugenius</i>, crying bitterly as he uttered the +words,—I declare I know not, <i>Yorick</i>, how to part with +thee, and would gladly flatter my hopes, added <i>Eugenius</i>, chearing +up his voice, that there is still enough left of thee to make a bishop, +and that I may live to see it.——I beseech thee, +<i>Eugenius</i>, quoth <i>Yorick</i>, taking off his night-cap as well +as he could with his left hand,——his right being still +grasped close in that of <i>Eugenius</i>,——I beseech +thee to take a view of my head.—I see nothing that ails it, +replied <i>Eugenius</i>. Then, alas! my friend, said <i>Yorick</i>, let +me tell you, that ’tis so bruised and mis-shapened with the blows which +***** and *****, and some others have so unhandsomely given me, in the +dark, that I might say with <i>Sancho Pança</i>, that should I recover, +and “Mitres thereupon be suffered to rain down from heaven as thick as +hail, not one of them would fit it.”——<i>Yorick’s</i> last +breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered +this:——yet still it was uttered with something of a +<i>Cervantick</i> tone;——and as he spoke it, <i>Eugenius</i> +could perceive a stream of lambent fire lighted up for a moment in his +eyes;——faint picture of those flashes of his spirit, which +(as <i>Shakespeare</i> said of his ancestor) were wont to set the +table in a roar!</p> + +<p><i>Eugenius</i> was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend +was broke: he squeezed his hand,——and then walked softly out +of the room, weeping as he walked. <i>Yorick</i> followed +<i>Eugenius</i> with his eyes to the door,—he then closed +them,—and never opened them more.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page25" id = "page25">25</a></span> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/tombstone.png" width = "300" height = "500" alt = +"black tombstone" /> +</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page26" id = "page26">26</a></span> +<p>He lies buried in the corner of his churchyard, in the parish of +———, under a plain marble slab, which his friend +<i>Eugenius</i>, by leave of his executors, laid upon his grave, with no +more than these three words of inscription, serving both for his epitaph +and elegy.</p> + +<div class = "box"> +<p class = "center"> +Alas, poor YORICK!</p></div> + +<p>Ten times a day has <i>Yorick’s</i> ghost the consolation to hear his +monumental inscription read over with such a variety of plaintive tones, +as denote a general pity and esteem for +him;——a foot-way crossing the churchyard close by the +side of his grave,—not a passenger goes by without stopping to +cast a look upon it,—and sighing as he walks on,</p> + +<p class = "center"> +Alas, poor YORICK!</p> + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page27" id = "page27">27</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXIII" id = "bookI_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is so long since the reader of +this rhapsodical work has been parted from the midwife, that it is high +time to mention her again to him, merely to put him in mind that there +is such a body still in the world, and whom, upon the best judgment I +can form upon my own plan at present,—I am going to introduce +to him for good and all: But as fresh matter may be started, and much +unexpected business fall out betwixt the reader and myself, which may +require immediate dispatch;——’twas right to take care that +the poor woman should not be lost in the meantime;—because when +she is wanted, we can no way do without her.</p> + +<p>I think I told you that this good woman was a person of no small note +and consequence throughout our whole village and township;—that +her fame had spread itself to the very out-edge and circumference of +that circle of importance, of which kind every soul living, whether he +has a shirt to his back or no,——has one surrounding +him;—which said circle, by the way, whenever ’tis said that such a +one is of great weight and importance in the +<i>world</i>,——I desire may be enlarged or contracted +in your worship’s fancy, in a compound ratio of the station, profession, +knowledge, abilities, height and depth (measuring both ways) of the +personage brought before you.</p> + +<p>In the present case, if I remember, I fixed it about four or five +miles, which not only comprehended the whole parish, but extended itself +to two or three of the adjacent hamlets in the skirts of the next +parish; which made a considerable thing of it. I must add, That she +was, moreover, very well looked on at one large grange-house, and some +other odd houses and farms within two or three miles, as I said, from +the smoke of her own chimney:——But I must here, once for +all, inform you, that all this will be more exactly delineated and +explain’d in a map, now in the hands of the engraver, which, with many +other pieces and developements of this work, will be added to the end of +the twentieth volume,—not to swell the work,—I detest +the thought of such a thing;—but by way of commentary, scholium, +illustration, and key to such passages, incidents, or innuendos as shall +be thought to be either of private interpretation, or of dark or +doubtful meaning, after my life and my opinions shall have been read +over (now don’t forget the meaning of the word) by all the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page28" id = "page28">28</a></span> +<i>world</i>;——which, betwixt you and me, and in spite of +all the gentlemen-reviewers in <i>Great Britain</i>, and of all that +their worships shall undertake to write or say to the +contrary,—I am determined shall be the +case.—I need not tell your worship, that all this is spoke in +confidence.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXIV" id = "bookI_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Upon</span> looking into my mother’s +marriage-settlement, in order to satisfy myself and reader in a point +necessary to be cleared up, before we could proceed any farther in this +history;—I had the good fortune to pop upon the very thing I +wanted before I had read a day and a half straight forwards,—it +might have taken me up a month;—which shews plainly, that when a +man sits down to write a history,—tho’ it be but the history of +<i>Jack Hickathrift</i> or <i>Tom Thumb</i>, he knows no more than his +heels what lets and confounded hindrances he is to meet with in his +way,—or what a dance he may be led, by one excursion or another, +before all is over. Could a historiographer drive on his history, as a +muleteer drives on his mule,—straight forward;——for +instance, from <i>Rome</i> all the way to <i>Loretto</i>, without ever +once turning his head aside either to the right hand or to the +left,——he might venture to foretell you to an hour when he +should get to his journey’s end;——but the thing is, morally +speaking, impossible: For, if he is a man of the least spirit, he will +have fifty deviations from a straight line to make with this or that +party as he goes along, which he can no ways avoid. He will have views +and prospects to himself perpetually soliciting his eye, which he can no +more help standing still to look at than he can fly; he will moreover +have various</p> + +<p>Accounts to reconcile:</p> + +<p>Anecdotes to pick up:</p> + +<p>Inscriptions to make out:</p> + +<p>Stories to weave in:</p> + +<p>Traditions to sift:</p> + +<p>Personages to call upon:</p> + +<p>Panegyricks to paste up at this door;</p> + +<p>Pasquinades at that:——All which both the man and his mule +are quite exempt from. To sum up all; there are archives at every stage +to be look’d into, and rolls, records, documents, and endless +genealogies, which justice ever and anon calls him back to stay the +reading of:——In short, there is no end of +it;——for +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page29" id = "page29">29</a></span> +my own part, I declare I had been at it these six weeks, making all +the speed I possibly could,—and am not yet born:—I have +just been able, and that’s all, to tell you <i>when</i> it happen’d, but +not <i>how</i>;—so that you see the thing is yet far from being +accomplished.</p> + +<p>These unforeseen stoppages, which I own I had no conception of when I +first set out;—but which, I am convinced now, will rather +increase than diminish as I advance,—have struck out a hint which +I am resolved to follow;——and that is,—not to be in a +hurry; but to go on leisurely, writing and publishing two volumes of my +life every year;——which, if I am suffered to go on quietly, +and can make a tolerable bargain with my bookseller, I shall +continue to do as long as I live.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXV" id = "bookI_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> article in my mother’s +marriage-settlement, which I told the reader I was at the pains to +search for, and which, now that I have found it, I think proper to +lay before him,—is so much more fully express’d in the deed +itself, than ever I can pretend to do it, that it would be barbarity to +take it out of the lawyer’s hand:—It is as follows.</p> + +<p>“<span class = "blackletter">And this Indenture further +witnesseth</span>, That the said <i>Walter Shandy</i>, merchant, in +consideration of the said intended marriage to be had, and, by God’s +blessing, to be well and truly solemnised and consummated between the +said <i>Walter Shandy</i> and <i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i> aforesaid, and +divers other good and valuable causes and considerations him thereunto +specially moving,—doth grant, covenant, condescend, consent, +conclude, bargain, and fully agree to and with <i>John Dixon</i>, and +<i>James Turner</i>, Esqrs. the above-named Trustees, <i>&c. +&c.</i>—<span class = "blackletter">to Wit</span>,—That +in case it should hereafter so fall out, chance, happen, or otherwise +come to pass,—That the said <i>Walter Shandy</i>, merchant, shall +have left off business before the time or times, that the said +<i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i> shall, according to the course of nature, or +otherwise, have left off bearing and bringing forth children;—and +that, in consequence of the said <i>Walter Shandy</i> having so left off +business, he shall in despight, and against the free-will, consent, and +good-liking of the said <i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i>,—make a +departure from the city of <i>London</i>, in order to retire to, and +dwell upon, his estate at <i>Shandy Hall</i>, in the county of +——, or at any other country-seat, castle, hall, +mansion-house, messuage or +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page30" id = "page30">30</a></span> +grainge-house, now purchased, or hereafter to be purchased, or upon any +part or parcel thereof:—That then, and as often as the said +<i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i> shall happen to be enceint with child or +children severally and lawfully begot, or to be begotten, upon the body +of the said <i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i>, during her said +coverture,—he the said <i>Walter Shandy</i> shall, at his own +proper cost and charges, and out of his own proper monies, upon good and +reasonable notice, which is hereby agreed to be within six weeks of her +the said <i>Elizabeth Mollineux’s</i> full reckoning, or time of +supposed and computed delivery,—pay, or cause to be paid, the sum +of one hundred and twenty pounds of good and lawful money, to <i>John +Dixon</i>, and <i>James Turner</i>, Esqrs. or assigns,—upon <span +class = "smallroman">TRUST</span> and confidence, and for and unto the +use and uses, intent, end, and purpose following:—<span class = +"blackletter">That is to say</span>,—That the said sum of one +hundred and twenty pounds shall be paid into the hands of the said +<i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i>, or to be otherwise applied by them the said +Trustees, for the well and truly hiring of one coach, with able and +sufficient horses, to carry and convey the body of the said <i>Elizabeth +Mollineux</i>, and the child or children which she shall be then and +there enceint and pregnant with,—unto the city of <i>London</i>; +and for the further paying and defraying of all other incidental costs, +charges, and expences whatsoever,—in and about, and for, and +relating to, her said intended delivery and lying-in, in the said city +or suburbs thereof. And that the said <i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i> shall +and may, from time to time, and at all such time and times as are here +covenanted and agreed upon,—peaceably and quietly hire the said +coach and horses, and have free ingress, egress, and regress throughout +her journey, in and from the said coach, according to the tenor, true +intent, and meaning of these presents, without any let, suit, trouble, +disturbance, molestation, discharge, hindrance, forfeiture, eviction, +vexation, interruption, or incumbrance whatsoever.—And that it +shall moreover be lawful to and for the said <i>Elizabeth Mollineux</i>, +from time to time, and as oft or often as she shall well and truly be +advanced in her said pregnancy, to the time heretofore stipulated and +agreed upon,—to live and reside in such place or places, and in +such family or families, and with such relations, friends, and other +persons within the said city of <i>London</i>, as she at her own will +and pleasure, notwithstanding her present coverture, and as if she was a +<i>femme sole</i> and unmarried,—shall think fit.—<span +class = "blackletter">And this Indenture further Witnesseth</span>, That +for the more effectually carrying of the said covenant into execution, +the said <i>Walter Shandy</i>, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page31" id = "page31">31</a></span> +merchant, doth hereby grant, bargain, sell, release, and confirm unto +the said <i>John Dixon</i>, and <i>James Turner</i>, Esqrs. their heirs, +executors, and assigns, in their actual possession now being, by virtue +of an indenture of bargain and sale for a year to them the said <i>John +Dickson</i>, and <i>James Turner</i>, Esqrs. by him the said <i>Walter +Shandy</i>, merchant, thereof made; which said bargain and sale for a +year, bears date the day next before the date of these presents, and by +force and virtue of the statute for transferring of uses into +possession,—<span class = "blackletter">All</span> that the manor +and lordship of <i>Shandy</i>, in the county of ——, with all +the rights, members, and appurtenances thereof; and all and every the +messuages, houses, buildings, barns, stables, orchards, gardens, +backsides, tofts, crofts, garths, cottages, lands, meadows, feedings, +pastures, marshes, commons, woods, underwoods, drains, fisheries, +waters, and water-courses;—together with all rents, reversions, +services, annuities, fee-farms, <ins class = "correction" +title = "printed as shown: may be missing apostrophe (knights’ fees)">knights</ins> fees, views of frankpledge, escheats, reliefs, +mines, quarries, goods and chattels of felons and fugitives, felons of +themselves, and put in exigent, deodands, free warrens, and all other +royalties and seigniories, rights and jurisdictions, privileges and +hereditaments whatsoever.——<span class = "blackletter">And +also</span> the advowson, donation, presentation, and free disposition +of the rectory or parsonage of <i>Shandy</i> aforesaid, and all and +every the tenths, tythes, glebe-lands.”——In three +words,——“My mother was to lay in, (if she +chose it) in <i>London</i>.”</p> + +<p>But in order to put a stop to the practice of any unfair play on the +part of my mother, which a marriage-article of this nature too +manifestly opened a door to, and which indeed had never been thought of +at all, but for my uncle <i>Toby Shandy</i>;—a clause was +added in security of my father, which was this:—“That in case my +mother hereafter should, at any time, put my father to the trouble and +expence of a <i>London</i> journey, upon false cries and +tokens;——that for every such instance, she should forfeit +all the right and title which the covenant gave her to the next +turn;——but to no more,—and so on, <i>toties +quoties</i>, in as effectual a manner, as if such a covenant betwixt +them had not been made.”—This, by the way, was no more than what +was reasonable;—and yet, as reasonable as it was, I have ever +thought it hard that the whole weight of the article should have fallen +entirely, as it did, upon myself.</p> + +<p>But I was begot and born to misfortunes:—for my poor mother, +whether it was wind or water—or a compound of both,—or +neither;—or whether it was simply the mere swell of imagination +and fancy in her;—or how far a strong wish and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page32" id = "page32">32</a></span> +desire to have it so, might mislead her judgment:—in short, +whether she was deceived or deceiving in this matter, it no way becomes +me to decide. The fact was this, That in the latter end of +<i>September</i> 1717, which was the year before I was born, my mother +having carried my father up to town much against the grain,—he +peremptorily insisted upon the clause;—so that I was doom’d, by +marriage-articles, to have my nose squeez’d as flat to my face, as if +the destinies had actually spun me without one.</p> + +<p>How this event came about,—and what a train of vexatious +disappointments, in one stage or other of my life, have pursued me from +the mere loss, or rather compression, of this one single +member,—shall be laid before the reader all in due time.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXVI" id = "bookI_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father, as anybody may naturally +imagine, came down with my mother into the country, in but a pettish +kind of a humour. The first twenty or five-and-twenty miles he did +nothing in the world but fret and teaze himself, and indeed my mother +too, about the cursed expence, which he said might every shilling of it +have been saved;—then what vexed him more than everything else +was, the provoking time of the year,—which, as I told you, was +towards the end of <i>September</i>, when his wall-fruit and green gages +especially, in which he was very curious, were just ready for +pulling:——“Had he been whistled up to <i>London</i>, upon a +<i>Tom Fool’s</i> errand, in any other month of the whole year, he +should not have said three words about it.”</p> + +<p>For the next two whole stages, no subject would go down, but the +heavy blow he had sustain’d from the loss of a son, whom it seems he had +fully reckon’d upon in his mind, and register’d down in his pocket-book, +as a second staff for his old age, in case <i>Bobby</i> should fail him. +The disappointment of this, he said, was ten times more to a wise man, +than all the money which the journey, etc., had cost him, put +together,—rot the hundred and twenty pounds,——he did +not mind it a rush.</p> + +<p>From <i>Stilton</i>, all the way to <i>Grantham</i>, nothing in the +whole affair provoked him so much as the condolences of his friends, and +the foolish figure they should both make at church, the first +<i>Sunday</i>;——of which, in the satirical vehemence of his +wit, now sharpen’d a little by vexation, he would give so many humorous +and provoking descriptions,—and place his rib and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page33" id = "page33">33</a></span> +self in so many tormenting lights and attitudes in the face of the whole +congregation;—that my mother declared, these two stages were so +truly tragi-comical, that she did nothing but laugh and cry in a breath, +from one end to the other of them all the way.</p> + +<p>From <i>Grantham</i>, till they had cross’d the <i>Trent</i>, my +father was out of all kind of patience at the vile trick and imposition +which he fancied my mother had put upon him in this +affair—“Certainly,” he would say to himself, over and over again, +“the woman could not be deceived herself——if she +could,——what weakness!”—tormenting word!—which +led his imagination a thorny dance, and, before all was over, play’d the +duce and all with him;——for sure as ever the word +<i>weakness</i> was uttered, and struck full upon his brain—so +sure it set him upon running divisions upon how many kinds of weaknesses +there were;——that there was such a thing as weakness of the +body,——as well as weakness of the mind,—and then he +would do nothing but syllogize within himself for a stage or two +together, How far the cause of all these vexations might, or might not, +have arisen out of himself.</p> + +<p>In short, he had so many little subjects of disquietude springing out +of this one affair, all fretting successively in his mind as they rose +up in it, that my mother, whatever was her journey up, had but an uneasy +journey of it down.——In a word, as she complained to my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, he would have tired out the patience of any flesh +alive.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXVII" id = "bookI_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Though</span> my father travelled +homewards, as I told you, in none of the best of moods,—pshawing +and pishing all the way down,—yet he had the complaisance to keep +the worst part of the story still to himself;—which was the +resolution he had taken of doing himself the justice, which my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> clause in the marriage-settlement empowered him; nor was +it till the very night in which I was begot, which was thirteen months +after, that she had the least intimation of his design: when my father, +happening, as you remember, to be a little chagrin’d and out of +temper,——took occasion as they lay chatting gravely in bed +afterwards, talking over what was to come,——to let her know +that she must accommodate herself as well as she could to the bargain +made between them in their marriage-deeds; +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page34" id = "page34">34</a></span> +which was to lye-in of her next child in the country, to balance the +last year’s journey.</p> + +<p>My father was a gentleman of many virtues,—but he had a strong +spice of that in his temper, which might, or might not, add to the +number.—’Tis known by the name of perseverance in a good +cause,—and of obstinacy in a bad one: Of this my mother had so +much knowledge, that she knew ’twas to no purpose to make any +remonstrance,—so she e’en resolved to sit down quietly, and make +the most of it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXVIII" id = "bookI_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> the point was that night agreed, +or rather determined, that my mother should lye-in of me in the country, +she took her measures accordingly; for which purpose, when she was three +days, or thereabouts, gone with child, she began to cast her eyes upon +the midwife, whom you have so often heard me mention; and before the +week was well got round, as the famous Dr. <i>Manningham</i> was not to +be had, she had come to a final determination in her +mind,——notwithstanding there was a scientific operator +within so near a call as eight miles of us, and who, moreover, had +expressly wrote a five shillings book upon the subject of midwifery, in +which he had exposed, not only the blunders of the sisterhood +itself,——but had likewise superadded many curious +improvements for the quicker extraction of the fœtus in cross births, +and some other cases of danger, which belay us in getting into the +world; notwithstanding all this, my mother, I say, was absolutely +determined to trust her life, and mine with it, into no soul’s hand but +this old woman’s only.—Now this I like;—when we cannot get +at the very thing we wish——never to take up with the next +best in degree to it:—no; that’s pitiful beyond +description;—it is no more than a week from this very day, in +which I am now writing this book for the edification of the +world;—which is <i>March</i> 9, 1759,——that my dear, +dear <i>Jenny</i>, observing I looked a little grave, as she stood +cheapening a silk of five-and-twenty shillings a yard,—told the +mercer, she was sorry she had given him so much trouble;—and +immediately went and bought herself a yard-wide stuff of tenpence a +yard.—’Tis the duplication of one and the same greatness of soul; +only what lessened the honour of it, somewhat, in my mother’s case, was, +that she could not heroine it into so violent and hazardous an extreme, +as one in her +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page35" id = "page35">35</a></span> +situation might have wished, because the old widwife had really some +little claim to be depended upon,—as much, at least, as success +could give her; having, in the course of her practice of near twenty +years in the parish, brought every mother’s son of them into the world +without any one slip or accident which could fairly be laid to her +account.</p> + +<p>These facts, tho’ they had their weight, yet did not altogether +satisfy some few scruples and uneasinesses which hung upon my father’s +spirits in relation to this choice.—To say nothing of the natural +workings of humanity and justice—or of the yearnings of parental +and connubial love, all which prompted him to leave as little to hazard +as possible in a case of this kind;——he felt himself +concerned in a particular manner, that all should go right in the +present case;—from the accumulated sorrow he lay open to, should +any evil betide his wife and child in lying-in at +<i>Shandy-Hall</i>.——He knew the world judged by events, and +would add to his afflictions in such a misfortune, by loading him with +the whole blame of it.——“Alas, o’day;—had Mrs. +<i>Shandy</i>, poor gentlewoman! had but her wish in going up to town +just to lye-in and come down again;—which, they say, she begged +and prayed for upon her bare knees,——and which, in my +opinion, considering the fortune which Mr. <i>Shandy</i> got with +her,—was no such mighty matter to have complied with, the lady and +her babe might both of them have been alive at this hour.”</p> + +<p>This exclamation, my father knew, was unanswerable;—and yet, it +was not merely to shelter himself,—nor was it altogether for the +care of his offspring and wife that he seemed so extremely anxious about +this point;—my father had extensive views of +things,——and stood moreover, as he thought, deeply concerned +in it for the publick good, from the dread he entertained of the bad +uses an ill-fated instance might be put to.</p> + +<p>He was very sensible that all political writers upon the subject had +unanimously agreed and lamented, from the beginning of Queen +<i>Elizabeth’s</i> reign down to his own time, that the current of men +and money towards the metropolis, upon one frivolous errand or +another,—set in so strong,—as to become dangerous to our +civil rights,—though, by the +bye,——a <i>current</i> was not the image he took most +delight in,—a <i>distemper</i> was here his favourite +metaphor, and he would run it down into a perfect allegory, by +maintaining it was identically the same in the body national as in the +body natural where the blood and spirits were driven up into the head +faster than they could find their ways +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page36" id = "page36">36</a></span> +down;——a stoppage of circulation must ensue, which was death +in both cases.</p> + +<p>There was little danger, he would say, of losing our liberties by +<i>French</i> politicks or <i>French</i> invasions;——nor was +he so much in pain of a consumption from the mass of corrupted matter +and ulcerated humours in our constitution, which he hoped was not so bad +as it was imagined;—but he verily feared, that in some violent +push, we should go off, all at once, in a state-apoplexy;—and then +he would say, <i>The Lord have mercy upon us all</i>.</p> + +<p>My father was never able to give the history of this +distemper,—without the remedy along with it.</p> + +<p>“Was I an absolute prince,” he would say, pulling up his breeches +with both his hands, as he rose from his arm-chair, “I would +appoint able judges, at every avenue of my metropolis, who should take +cognizance of every fool’s business who came there;—and if, upon a +fair and candid hearing, it appeared not of weight sufficient to leave +his own home, and come up, bag and baggage, with his wife and children, +farmer’s sons, &c., &c., at his backside, they should be all +sent back, from constable to constable, like vagrants as they were, to +the place of their legal settlements. By this means I shall take care, +that my metropolis totter’d not thro’ its own weight;—that the +head be no longer too big for the body;—that the extremes, now +wasted and pinn’d in, be restored to their due share of nourishment, and +regain with it their natural strength and beauty:—I would +effectually provide, That the meadows and corn-fields of my dominions, +should laugh and sing;—that good chear and hospitality flourish +once more;—and that such weight and influence be put thereby into +the hands of the Squirality of my kingdom, as should counterpoise what I +perceive my Nobility are now taking from them.</p> + +<p>“Why are there so few palaces and gentlemen’s seats,” he would ask, +with some emotion, as he walked across the room, “throughout so many +delicious provinces in <i>France?</i> Whence is it that the few +remaining <i>Chateaus</i> amongst them are so dismantled,—so +unfurnished, and in so ruinous and desolate a +condition?——Because, Sir,” (he would say) “in that +kingdom no man has any country-interest to support;—the little +interest of any kind which any man has anywhere in it, is concentrated +in the court, and the looks of the Grand Monarch: by the sunshine of +whose countenance, or the clouds which pass across it, every +<i>French</i> man lives or dies.”</p> + +<p>Another political reason which prompted my father so strongly +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page37" id = "page37">37</a></span> +to guard against the least evil accident in my mother’s lying-in in the +country,——was, That any such instance would infallibly throw +a balance of power, too great already, into the weaker vessels of the +gentry, in his own, or higher stations;——which, with the +many other usurped rights which that part of the constitution was hourly +establishing,—would, in the end, prove fatal to the monarchical +system of domestick government established in the first creation of +things by God.</p> + +<p>In this point he was entirely of Sir <i>Robert Filmer’s</i> opinion, +That the plans and institutions of the greatest monarchies in the +eastern parts of the world were, originally, all stolen from that +admirable pattern and prototype of this household and paternal +power;—which, for a century, he said, and more, had gradually been +degenerating away into a mix’d government;——the form of +which, however desirable in great combinations of the +species,——was very troublesome in small ones,—and +seldom produced anything, that he saw, but sorrow and confusion.</p> + +<p>For all these reasons, private and publick, put together,—my +father was for having the man-midwife by all means,—my mother by +no means. My father begg’d and intreated she would for once recede from +her prerogative in this matter, and suffer him to choose for +her;—my mother, on the contrary, insisted upon her privilege in +this matter, to choose for herself,—and have no mortal’s help but +the old woman’s.—What could my father do? He was almost at his +wit’s end;——talked it over with her in all +moods;—placed his arguments in all lights;—argued the matter +with her like a christian,—like a heathen,—like a +husband,—like a father,—like a patriot,—like a +man:—My mother answered everything only like a woman; which was a +little hard upon her;—for as she could not assume and fight it out +behind such a variety of characters,—’twas no fair +match:—’twas seven to one.—What could my mother +do?——She had the advantage (otherwise she had been certainly +overpowered) of a small reinforcement of chagrin personal at the bottom, +which bore her up, and enabled her to dispute the affair with my father +with so equal an advantage,——that both sides sung <i>Te +Deum</i>. In a word, my mother was to have the old woman,—and the +operator was to have licence to drink a bottle of wine with my father +and my uncle <i>Toby Shandy</i> in the back parlour,—for which he +was to be paid five guineas.</p> + +<p>I must beg leave, before I finish this chapter, to enter a caveat in +the breast of my fair reader;—and it is this,——Not to +take it absolutely for granted, from an unguarded word or two which +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page38" id = "page38">38</a></span> +I have dropp’d in it,——“That I am a married man.”—I +own, the tender appellation of my dear, dear <i>Jenny</i>,—with +some other strokes of conjugal knowledge, interspersed here and there, +might, naturally enough, have misled the most candid judge in the world +into such a determination against me.—All I plead for, in this +case, Madam, is strict justice, and that you do so much of it, to me as +well as to yourself,—as not to prejudge, or receive such an +impression of me, till you have better evidence, than, I am +positive, at present can be produced against me.—Not that I can be +so vain or unreasonable, Madam, as to desire you should therefore think, +that my dear, dear <i>Jenny</i> is my kept +mistress;—no,—that would be flattering my character in the +other extreme, and giving it an air of freedom, which, perhaps, it has +no kind of right to. All I contend for, is the utter impossibility, for +some volumes, that you, or the most penetrating spirit upon earth, +should know how this matter really stands.—It is not impossible, +but that my dear, dear <i>Jenny!</i> tender as the appellation is, may +be my child.——Consider,—I was born in the year +eighteen.—Nor is there anything unnatural or extravagant in the +supposition, that my dear <i>Jenny</i> may be my +friend.—Friend!—My friend.—Surely, Madam, +a friendship between the two sexes may subsist, and be supported +without———Fy! Mr. <i>Shandy</i>:—Without +anything, Madam, but that tender and delicious sentiment, which ever +mixes in friendship, where there is a difference of sex. Let me intreat +you to study the pure and sentimental parts of the best <i>French</i> +Romances;—it will really, Madam, astonish you to see with what a +variety of chaste expressions this delicious sentiment, which I have the +honour to speak of, is dress’d out.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXIX" id = "bookI_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I would</span> sooner undertake to explain +the hardest problem in geometry, than pretend to account for it, that a +gentleman of my father’s great good sense,——knowing, as the +reader must have observed him, and curious too in philosophy,—wise +also in political reasoning,—and in polemical (as he will +find) no way ignorant,—could be capable of entertaining a notion +in his head, so out of the common track,—that I fear the reader, +when I come to mention it to him, if he is the least of a cholerick +temper, will immediately throw the book by; if mercurial, he will laugh +most heartily at it;—and if he is of a grave and saturnine cast, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page39" id = "page39">39</a></span> +he will, at first sight, absolutely condemn as fanciful and extravagant; +and that was in respect to the choice and imposition of christian names, +on which he thought a great deal more depended than what superficial +minds were capable of conceiving.</p> + +<p>His opinion, in this matter, was, That there was a strange kind of +magick bias, which good or bad names, as he called them, irresistibly +impressed upon our characters and conduct.</p> + +<p>The hero of <i>Cervantes</i> argued not the point with more +seriousness,——nor had he more faith,——or more to +say on the powers of necromancy in dishonouring his deeds,—or on +<span class = "smallcaps">Dulcinea’s</span> name, in shedding lustre +upon them, than my father had on those of <span class = +"smallcaps">Trismegistus</span> or <span class = +"smallcaps">Archimedes</span>, on the one hand—or of <span class = +"smallcaps">Nyky</span> and <span class = "smallcaps">Simkin</span> on +the other. How many <span class = "smallcaps">Cæsars</span> and <span +class = "smallcaps">Pompeys</span>, he would say, by mere inspiration of +the names, have been rendered worthy of them? And how many, he would +add, are there, who might have done exceeding well in the world, had not +their characters and spirits been totally depressed and <span class = +"smallcaps">Nicomedus’d</span> into nothing?</p> + +<p>I see plainly, Sir, by your looks (or as the case happened), my +father would say—that you do not heartily subscribe to this +opinion of mine,—which, to those, he would add, who have not +carefully sifted it to the bottom,—I own has an air more of +fancy than of solid reasoning in it;——and yet, my dear Sir, +if I may presume to know your character, I am morally assured, +I should hazard little in stating a case to you,—not as a +party in the dispute,—but as a judge, and trusting my appeal upon +it to your own good sense and candid disquisition in this +matter;——you are a person free from as many narrow +prejudices of education as most men;—and, if I may presume to +penetrate farther into you,—of a liberality of genius above +bearing down an opinion, merely because it wants friends. Your +son,—your dear son,—from whose sweet and open temper you +have so much to expect.—Your <span class = +"smallcaps">Billy</span>, Sir!—would you, for the world, have +called him <span class = "smallcaps">Judas</span>?—Would you, my +dear Sir, he would say, laying his hand upon your breast, with the +genteelest address,—and in that soft and irresistible <i>piano</i> +of voice, which the nature of the <i>argumentum ad hominem</i> +absolutely requires,—Would you, Sir, if a <i>Jew</i> of a +godfather had proposed the name for your child, and offered you his +purse along with it, would you have consented to such a desecration of +him?——O my God! he would say, looking up, if I know your +temper right, Sir,—you are incapable of it;——you would +have trampled +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page40" id = "page40">40</a></span> +upon the offer;—you would have thrown the temptation at the +tempter’s head with abhorrence.</p> + +<p>Your greatness of mind in this action, which I admire, with that +generous contempt of money, which you shew me in the whole transaction, +is really noble;—and what renders it more so, is the principle of +it;—the workings of a parent’s love upon the truth and conviction +of this very hypothesis, namely, That was your son called <span class = +"smallcaps">Judas</span>,—the sordid and treacherous idea, so +inseparable from the name, would have accompanied him through life like +his shadow, and, in the end, made a miser and a rascal of him, in spite, +Sir, of your example.</p> + +<p>I never knew a man able to answer this argument.——But, +indeed, to speak of my father as he was;—he was certainly +irresistible;—both in his orations and disputations;—he was +born an orator;—<span class = "greek" title = +"Theodidaktos">Θεοδίδακτος</span>.—Persuasion hung upon his lips, +and the elements of Logick and Rhetorick were so blended up in +him,—and, withal, he had so shrewd a guess at the weaknesses and +passions of his respondent,——that <span class = +"smallcaps">Nature</span> might have stood up and said,—“This man +is eloquent.”—In short, whether he was on the weak or the strong +side of the question, ’twas hazardous in either case to attack +him.—And yet, ’tis strange, he had never read <i>Cicero</i>, nor +<i>Quintilian de Oratore</i>, nor <i>Isocrates</i>, nor +<i>Aristotle</i>, nor <i>Longinus</i> amongst the antients;—nor +<i>Vossius</i>, nor <i>Skioppius</i>, nor <i>Ramus</i>, nor +<i>Farnaby</i> amongst the moderns;—and what is more astonishing, +he had never in his whole life the least light or spark of subtilty +struck into his mind, by one single lecture upon <i>Crackenthorp</i> or +<i>Burgersdicius</i>, or any Dutch logician or commentator;—he +knew not so much as in what the difference of an argument <i>ad +ignorantiam</i>, and an argument <i>ad hominem</i> consisted; so that I +well remember, when he went up along with me to enter my name at +<i>Jesus College</i> in ****,—it was a matter of just wonder with +my worthy tutor, and two or three fellows of that learned +society,—that a man who knew not so much as the names of his +tools, should be able to work after that fashion with them.</p> + +<p>To work with them in the best manner he could, was what my father +was, however, perpetually forced upon;——for he had a +thousand little sceptical notions of the comick kind to +defend——most of which notions, I verily believe, at +first entered upon the footing of mere whims, and of a <i>vive la +Bagatelle</i>; and as such he would make merry with them for half an +hour or so, and having sharpened his wit upon them, dismiss them till +another day.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page41" id = "page41">41</a></span> +<p>I mention this, not only as matter of hypothesis or conjecture upon +the progress and establishment of my father’s many odd +opinions,—but as a warning to the learned reader against the +indiscreet reception of such guests, who, after a free and undisturbed +entrance, for some years, into our brains,—at length claim a kind +of settlement there,——working sometimes like +yeast;—but more generally after the manner of the gentle passion, +beginning in jest,—but ending in downright earnest.</p> + +<p>Whether this was the case of the singularity of my father’s +notions—or that his judgment, at length, became the dupe of his +wit;—or how far, in many of his notions, he might, though odd, be +absolutely right;——the reader, as he comes at them, shall +decide. All that I maintain here, is, that in this one, of the influence +of christian names, however it gained footing, he was serious;—he +was all uniformity;—he was systematical, and, like all systematick +reasoners, he would move both heaven and earth, and twist and torture +everything in nature, to support his hypothesis. In a word, +I repeat it over again;—he was serious;—and, in +consequence of it, he would lose all kind of patience whenever he saw +people, especially of condition, who should have known +better,——as careless and as indifferent about the name they +imposed upon their child,—or more so, than in the choice of +<i>Ponto</i> or <i>Cupid</i> for their puppy-dog.</p> + +<p>This, he would say, look’d ill;—and had, moreover, this +particular aggravation in it, viz., That when once a vile name was +wrongfully or injudiciously given, ’twas not like the case of a man’s +character, which, when wrong’d, might hereafter be +cleared;——and, possibly, some time or other, if not in the +man’s life, at least after his death,—be, somehow or other, set to +rights with the world: But the injury of this, he would say, could never +be undone;—nay, he doubted even whether an act of parliament could +reach it:——He knew as well as you, that the legislature +assumed a power over surnames;—but for very strong reasons, which +he could give, it had never yet adventured, he would say, to go a step +farther.</p> + +<p>It was observable, that tho’ my father, in consequence of this +opinion, had, as I have told you, the strongest likings and dislikings +towards certain names;—that there were still numbers of names +which hung so equally in the balance before him, that they were +absolutely indifferent to him. <i>Jack</i>, <i>Dick</i>, and <i>Tom</i> +were of this class: These my father called neutral +names;—affirming of them, without a satire, That there had been as +many knaves and fools, at least, as wise and good men, since the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page42" id = "page42">42</a></span> +world began, who had indifferently borne them;—so that, like equal +forces acting against each other in contrary directions, he thought they +mutually destroyed each other’s effects; for which reason, he would +often declare, He would not give a cherry-stone to choose amongst them. +<i>Bob</i>, which was my brother’s name, was another of these neutral +kinds of christian names, which operated very little either way; and as +my father happen’d to be at <i>Epsom</i>, when it was given +him,—he would oft-times thank Heaven it was no worse. +<i>Andrew</i> was something like a negative quantity in Algebra with +him;—’twas worse, he said, than nothing.—<i>William</i> +stood pretty high:——<i>Numps</i> again was low with +him:—and <i>Nick</i>, he said, was the <span class = +"smallcaps">Devil</span>.</p> + +<p>But, of all the names in the universe, he had the most unconquerable +aversion for <span class = "smallcaps">Tristram</span>;—he had the +lowest and most contemptible opinion of it of anything in the +world,—thinking it could possibly produce nothing in <i>rerum +naturâ</i>, but what was extremely mean and pitiful: So that in the +midst of a dispute on the subject, in which, by the bye, he was +frequently involved,——he would sometimes break off in a +sudden and spirited <span class = "smallcaps">Epiphonema</span>, or +rather <span class = "smallcaps">Erotesis</span>, raised a third, and +sometimes a full fifth above the key of the discourse,——and +demand it categorically of his antagonist, Whether he would take upon +him to say, he had ever remembered,——whether he had ever +read,—or even whether he had ever heard tell of a man, called +<i>Tristram</i>, performing anything great or worth +recording?—No,—he would say,—<span class = +"smallcaps">Tristram!</span>—The thing is impossible.</p> + +<p>What could be wanting in my father but to have wrote a book to +publish this notion of his to the world? Little boots it to the subtle +speculatist to stand single in his opinions,—unless he gives them +proper vent:—It was the identical thing which my father +did:—for in the year sixteen, which was two years before I was +born, he was at the pains of writing an express <span class = +"smallcaps">Dissertation</span> simply upon the word +<i>Tristram</i>,—shewing the world, with great candour and +modesty, the grounds of his great abhorrence to the name.</p> + +<p>When this story is compared with the title-page,—Will not the +gentle reader pity my father from his soul?—to see an orderly and +well-disposed gentleman, who tho’ singular,—yet inoffensive in his +notions,—so played upon in them by cross purposes;——to +look down upon the stage, and see him baffled and overthrown in all his +little systems and wishes; to behold a train of events +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page43" id = "page43">43</a></span> +perpetually falling out against him, and in so critical and cruel a way, +as if they had purposedly been plann’d and pointed against him, merely +to insult his speculations.——In a word, to behold such a +one, in his old age, ill-fitted for troubles, ten times in a day +suffering sorrow;—ten times in a day calling the child of his +prayers <span class = "smallcaps">Tristram!</span>—Melancholy +dissyllable of sound! which, to his ears, was unison to +<i>Nincompoop</i>, and every name vituperative under +heaven.——By his ashes! I swear it,—if ever +malignant spirit took pleasure, or busied itself in traversing the +purposes of mortal man,—it must have been here;—and if it +was not necessary I should be born before I was christened, I would +this moment give the reader an account of it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXX" id = "bookI_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p>———<span class = "firstword">How</span> could you, +Madam, be so inattentive in reading the last chapter? I told you in +it, <i>That my mother was not a papist</i>.——Papist! You +told me no such thing, Sir.—Madam, I beg leave to repeat it +over again, that I told you as plain, at least, as words, by direct +inference, could tell you such a thing.—Then, Sir, I must +have miss’d a page.—No, Madam,—you have not miss’d a +word.——Then I was asleep, Sir.—My pride, Madam, cannot +allow you that refuge.——Then, I declare, I know +nothing at all about the matter.—That, Madam, is the very fault I +lay to your charge; and as a punishment for it, I do insist upon +it, that you immediately turn back, that is, as soon as you get to the +next full stop, and read the whole chapter over again. I have +imposed this penance upon the lady, neither out of wantonness nor +cruelty; but from the best of motives; and therefore shall make her no +apology for it when she returns back:—’Tis to rebuke a vicious +taste, which has crept into thousands besides herself,—of reading +straight forwards, more in quest of the adventures, than of the deep +erudition and knowledge which a book of this cast, if read over as it +should be, would infallibly impart with them——The mind +should be accustomed to make wise reflections, and draw curious +conclusions as it goes along; the habitude of which made <i>Pliny</i> +the younger affirm, “That he never read a book so bad, but he drew some +profit from it.” The stories of <i>Greece</i> and <i>Rome</i>, run over +without this turn and application,—do less service, I affirm +it, than the history of <i>Parismus</i> and <i>Parismenus</i>, or of the +Seven Champions of <i>England</i>, read with it.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page44" id = "page44">44</a></span> +<p>———But here comes my fair lady. Have you read over +again the chapter, Madam, as I desired you?—You have: And did you +not observe the passage, upon the second reading, which admits the +inference?——Not a word like it! Then, Madam, be pleased to +ponder well the last line but one of the chapter, where I take upon me +to say, “It was <i>necessary</i> I should be born before I was +christen’d.” Had my mother, Madam, been a Papist, that consequence did +not follow.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_1_1" id = "tag_1_1" href = +"#note_1_1">1</a></p> + +<p>It is a terrible misfortune for this same book of mine, but more so +to the Republick of letters;—so that my own is quite swallowed up +in the consideration of it,—that this selfsame vile pruriency for +fresh adventures in all things, has got so strongly into our habit and +humour,—and so wholly intent are we upon satisfying the impatience +of our concupiscence that way,—that nothing but the gross and more +carnal parts of a composition will go down:—The subtle hints and +sly communications of science fly off, like spirits +upwards,——the heavy moral escapes downwards; and both the +one and the other are as much lost to the world, as if they were still +left in the bottom of the ink-horn.</p> + +<p>I wish the male-reader has not pass’d by many a one, as quaint and +curious as this one, in which the female-reader has been detected. +I wish it may have its effects;—and that all good people, +both male and female, from her example, may be taught to think as well +as read.</p> + +<h5><a name = "bookI_baptism" id = "bookI_baptism"><span class = +"smallcaps">Memoire</span></a> presenté à Messieurs les Docteurs de +<span class = "smallcaps">Sorbonne</span><a class = "tag" name = +"tag_1_2" id = "tag_1_2" href = "#note_1_2">2</a></h5> + +<p class = "ital"> +Un Chirurgien Accoucheur, represente à Messieurs les Docteurs de <span +class = "smallcaps">Sorbonne</span>, qu’il y a des cas, quoique très +rares, où une mere ne sçauroit accoucher, & même où l’enfant est +tellement renfermé +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page45" id = "page45">45</a></span> +dans le sein de sa mere, qu’il ne fait parôitre aucune partie de son +corps, ce qui seroit un cas, suivant les Rituels, de lui conférer, du +moins sous condition, le baptême. Le Chirurgien, qui consulte, prétend, +par le moyen d’une <em>petite canulle</em>, de pouvoir baptiser +immediatement l’enfant, sans faire aucun tort à la mere.——Il +demand si ce moyen, qu’il vient de proposer, est permis & légitime, +& s’il peut s’en servir dans les cas qu’il vient d’exposer.</p> + + +<h5><a name = "bookI_reply" id = "bookI_reply">REPONSE</a></h5> + +<p class = "ital"> +Le Conseil estime, que la question proposée souffre de grandes +difficultés. Les Théologiens posent d’un côté pour principe, que le +baptême, qui est une naissance spirituelle, suppose une premiere +naissance; il faut être né dans le monde, pour renaître en <em>Jesus +Christ</em>, comme ils l’enseignent. <em>S. Thomas, 3 part, +quæst. 88, artic. II</em>, suit cette doctrine comme une verité +constante; l’on ne peut, dit ce S. Docteur, baptiser les enfans qui +sont renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres, & +<em>S. Thomas</em> est fondé sur ce, que les enfans ne sont point +nés, & ne peuvent être comptés parmi les autres hommes; d’où il +conclud, qu’ils ne peuvent être l’objet d’une action extérieure, pour +reçevoir par leur ministére, les sacremens nécessaires au salut: +<em>Pueri in maternis uteris existentes nondum prodierunt in lucem ut +cum aliis hominibus vitam ducant; unde non possunt subjici actioni +humanæ, ut per eorum ministerium sacramenta recipiant ad salutem.</em> +Les rituels ordonnent dans la pratique ce que les théologiens ont établi +sur les mêmes matiéres, & ils deffendent tous d’une maniére +uniforme, de baptiser les enfans qui sont renfermés dans le sein de +leurs meres, s’ils ne font paroître quelque partie de leurs corps. Le +concours des théologiens, & des rituels, qui sont les régles des +diocéses, paroit former une autorité qui termine la question presente; +cependant le conseil de conscience considerant d’un côté, que le +raisonnement des théologiens est uniquement fondé sur une raison de +convenance, & que la deffense des rituels suppose que l’on ne peut +baptiser immediatement les enfans ainsi renfermés dans le sein de leurs +meres, ce qui est contre la supposition presente; & d’un autre côté, +considerant que les mêmes théologiens enseignent, que l’on peut risquer +les sacremens que <em>Jesus Christ</em> a établis comme des moyens +faciles, mais nécessaires pour sanctifier les hommes; & d’ailleurs +estimant, que les enfans renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres, +pourroient être capables de salut, parcequ’ils sont capables de +damnation;—pour ces considerations, & en egard à l’exposé, +suivant lequel on +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page46" id = "page46">46</a></span> +assure avoir trouvé un moyen certain de baptiser ces enfans ainsi +renfermés, sans faire aucun tort à la mere, le Conseil estime que l’on +pourroit se servir du moyen proposé, dans la confiance qu’il a, que Dieu +n’a point laissé ces sortes d’enfans sans aucuns secours, & +supposant, comme il est exposé, que le moyen dont il s’agit est propre à +leur procurer le baptême; cependant comme il s’agiroit, en autorisant la +pratique proposée, de changer une regie universellement établie, le +Conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit s’addresser à son evêque, +& à qui il appartient de juger de l’utilité, & du danger du +moyen proposé, & comme, sous le bon plaisir de l’evêque, le Conseil +estime qu’il faudroit recourir au Pape, qui a le droit d’expliquer les +régles de l’eglise, & d’y déroger dans le cas, ou la loi ne sçauroit +obliger, quelque sage & quelque utile que paroisse la maniére de +baptiser dont il s’agit, le Conseil ne pourroit l’approuver sans le +concours de ces deux autorités. On conseile au moins à celui qui +consulte, de s’addresser à son evêque, & de lui faire part de la +presente décision, afin que, si le prelat entre dans les raisons sur +lesquelles les docteurs soussignés s’appuyent, il puisse être autorisé +dans le cas de nécessité, ou il risqueroit trop d’attendre que la +permission fût demandée & accordée d’employer le moyen qu’il propose +si avantageux au salut de l’enfant. Au reste, le Conseil, en estimant +que l’on pourroit s’en servir, croit cependant, que si les enfans dont +il s’agit, venoient au monde, contre l’esperance de ceux qui se seroient +servis du même moyen, il seroit nécessaire de les baptiser sous +condition; & en cela le Conseil se conforme à tous les rituels, qui +en autorisant le baptême d’un enfant qui fait paroître quelque partie de +son corps, enjoignent néantmoins, & ordonnent de le baptiser sous +condition, s’il vient heureusement au monde.</p> + +<p>Deliberé en <i>Sorbonne</i>, le 10 <i>Avril</i>, 1733.</p> + +<p class = "right smallcaps"> +A. Le Moyne.<br /> +L. De Romigny.<br /> +De Marcilly.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +Mr. <i>Tristram Shandy’s</i> compliments to Messrs. <i>Le Moyne</i>, +<i>De Romigny</i>, and <i>De Marcilly</i>; hopes they all rested well +the night after so tiresome a consultation.—He begs to know, +whether after the ceremony of marriage, and before that of consummation, +the baptizing all the <span class = "smallcaps">Homunculi</span> at +once, slapdash, by <i>injection</i>, would not be a shorter and safer +cut still; on condition, as above, That if the <span class = +"smallcaps">Homunculi</span> do well, and come safe into the world after +this, that each and every of them shall be baptized again (<i>sous +condition</i>)——And provided, in the second +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page47" id = "page47">47</a></span> +place, That the thing can be done, which <i>Mr. Shandy</i> apprehends it +may, <i>par le moyen d’une</i> petite canulle, and <i>sans faire aucun +tort au pere</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXXI" id = "bookI_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p>——I wonder what’s all that noise, and running backwards +and forwards for, above stairs, quoth my father, addressing himself, +after an hour and a half’s silence, to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,——who, you must know, was sitting on the +opposite side of the fire, smoking his social pipe all the time, in mute +contemplation of a new pair of black plush-breeches which he had got +on:—What can they be doing, brother?—quoth my +father,—we can scarce hear ourselves talk.</p> + +<p>I think, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, taking his pipe from his +mouth, and striking the head of it two or three times upon the nail of +his left thumb, as he began his sentence,——I think, +says he:——But to enter rightly into my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +sentiments upon this matter, you must be made to enter first a little +into his character, the outlines of which I shall just give you, and +then the dialogue between him and my father will go on as well +again.</p> + +<p>Pray what was that man’s name,—for I write in such a hurry, +I have no time to recollect or look for it,——who first +made the observation, “That there was great inconstancy in our air and +climate?” Whoever he was, ’twas a just and good observation in +him.—But the corollary drawn from it, namely, “That it is this +which has furnished us with such a variety of odd and whimsical +characters;”—that was not his;—it was found out by another +man, at least a century and a half after him: Then again,—that +this copious store-house of original materials, is the true and natural +cause that our Comedies are so much better than those of <i>France</i>, +or any others that either have, or can be wrote upon the +Continent:——that discovery was not fully made till about the +middle of King <i>William’s</i> reign,—when the great +<i>Dryden</i>, in writing one of his long prefaces, (if I mistake +not) most fortunately hit upon it. Indeed toward the latter end of Queen +<i>Anne</i>, the great <i>Addison</i> began to patronize the notion, and +more fully explained it to the world in one or two of his +Spectators;—but the discovery was not his.—Then, fourthly +and lastly, that this strange irregularity in our climate, producing so +strange an irregularity in our characters,——doth thereby, in +some sort, make us amends, by giving us somewhat to make +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page48" id = "page48">48</a></span> +us merry with when the weather will not suffer us to go out of +doors,—that observation is my own;—and was struck out by me +this very rainy day, <i>March</i> 26, 1759, and betwixt the hours of +nine and ten in the morning.</p> + +<p>Thus—thus, my fellow-labourers and associates in this great +harvest of our learning, now ripening before our eyes; thus it is, by +slow steps of casual increase, that our knowledge physical, +metaphysical, physiological, polemical, nautical, mathematical, +ænigmatical, technical, biographical, romantical, chemical, and +obstetrical, with fifty other branches of it, (most of ’em ending as +these do, in <i>ical</i>) have for these two last centuries and more, +gradually been creeping upwards towards that <span class = "greek" title += "Akmê">Ἀκμὴ</span> of their perfections, from which, if we may form a +conjecture from the advances of these last seven years, we cannot +possibly be far off.</p> + +<p>When that happens, it is to be hoped, it will put an end to all kind +of writings whatsoever;—the want of all kind of writing will put +an end to all kind of reading;—and that in time, <i>As war begets +poverty; poverty peace</i>,——must, in course, put an end to +all kind of knowledge,—and then——we shall have all to +begin over again; or, in other words, be exactly where we started.</p> + +<p>———Happy! thrice happy times! I only wish that the +æra of my begetting, as well as the mode and manner of it, had been a +little alter’d,——or that it could have been put off, with +any convenience to my father or mother, for some twenty or +five-and-twenty years longer, when a man in the literary world might +have stood some <span class = "locked">chance.——</span></p> + +<p>But I forget my uncle <i>Toby</i>, whom all this while we have left +knocking the ashes out of his tobacco-pipe.</p> + +<p>His humour was of that particular species, which does honour to our +atmosphere; and I should have made no scruple of ranking him amongst one +of the first-rate productions of it, had not there appeared too many +strong lines in it of a family-likeness, which shewed that he derived +the singularity of his temper more from blood, than either wind or +water, or any modifications or combinations of them whatever: And I +have, therefore, oft-times wondered, that my father, tho’ I believe +he had his reasons for it, upon his observing some tokens of +eccentricity, in my course, when I was a boy,—should never once +endeavour to account for them in this way: for all the <span class = +"smallcaps">Shandy Family</span> were of an original character +throughout:——I mean the males,—the females had no +character at all,—except, indeed, my great aunt <span class = +"smallcaps">Dinah</span>, who, about sixty years ago, was married and +got with child by the coachman, for which my father, according to +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page49" id = "page49">49</a></span> +his hypothesis of christian names, would often say, She might thank her +godfathers and godmothers.</p> + +<p>It will seem very strange,——and I would as soon think of +dropping a riddle in the reader’s way, which is not my interest to do, +as set him upon guessing how it could come to pass, that an event of +this kind, so many years after it had happened, should be reserved for +the interruption of the peace and unity, which otherwise so cordially +subsisted, between my father and my uncle <i>Toby</i>. One would have +thought, that the whole force of the misfortune should have spent and +wasted itself in the family at first,—as is generally the +case.—But nothing ever wrought with our family after the ordinary +way. Possibly at the very time this happened, it might have something +else to afflict it; and as afflictions are sent down for our good, and +that as this had never done the <span class = "smallcaps">Shandy +Family</span> any good at all, it might lie waiting till apt times and +circumstances should give it an opportunity to discharge its +office.——Observe, I determine nothing upon +this.——My way is ever to point out to the curious, different +tracts of investigation, to come at the first springs of the events I +tell;—not with a pedantic <i>Fescue</i>,—or in the decisive +manner of <i>Tacitus</i>, who outwits himself and his reader;—but +with the officious humility of a heart devoted to the assistance merely +of the inquisitive;—to them I write,——and by them I +shall be read,——if any such reading as this could be +supposed to hold out so long,—to the very end of the world.</p> + +<p>Why this cause of sorrow, therefore, was thus reserved for my father +and uncle, is undetermined by me. But how and in what direction it +exerted itself so as to become the cause of dissatisfaction between +them, after it began to operate, is what I am able to explain with great +exactness, and is as follows:</p> + +<p>My uncle <span class = "smallcaps">Toby Shandy</span>, Madam, was a +gentleman, who, with the virtues which usually constitute the character +of a man of honour and rectitude,——possessed one in a very +eminent degree, which is seldom or never put into the catalogue; and +that was a most extreme and unparallel’d modesty of +nature;——though I correct the word nature, for this reason, +that I may not prejudge a point which must shortly come to a hearing, +and that is, Whether this modesty of his was natural or +acquir’d.——Whichever way my uncle <i>Toby</i> came by it, +’twas nevertheless modesty in the truest sense of it; and that is, +Madam, not in regard to words, for he was so unhappy as to have very +little choice in them,—but to things;——and this kind +of modesty so possessed him, and it arose to such a height in him, as +almost +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page50" id = "page50">50</a></span> +to equal, if such a thing could be, even the modesty of a woman: That +female nicety, Madam, and inward cleanliness of mind and fancy, in your +sex, which makes you so much the awe of ours.</p> + +<p>You will imagine, Madam, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> had contracted all +this from this very source;—that he had spent a great part of his +time in converse with your sex; and that from a thorough knowledge of +you, and the force of imitation which such fair examples render +irresistible, he had acquired this amiable turn <ins class = +"correction" title = "text has ‘or’">of</ins> mind.</p> + +<p>I wish I could say so,—for unless it was with his +sister-in-law, my father’s wife and my mother——my uncle +<i>Toby</i> scarce exchanged three words with the sex in as many +years;—no, he got it, Madam, by a +blow.——A blow!—Yes, Madam, it was owing to a blow +from a stone, broke off by a ball from the parapet of a horn-work at the +siege of <i>Namur</i>, which struck full upon my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +groin.—Which way could that effect it? The story of that, Madam, +is long and interesting;—but it would be running my history all +upon heaps to give it you here.——’Tis for an episode +hereafter; and every circumstance relating to it, in its proper place, +shall be faithfully laid before you:—’Till then, it is not in my +power to give farther light into this matter, or say more than what I +have said already,——That my uncle <i>Toby</i> was a +gentleman of unparallel’d modesty, which happening to be somewhat +subtilized and rarified by the constant heat of a little family +pride,——they both so wrought together within him, that he +could never bear to hear the affair of my aunt <span class = +"smallcaps">Dinah</span> touch’d upon, but with the greatest +emotion.——The least hint of it was enough to make the blood +fly into his face;—but when my father enlarged upon the story in +mixed companies, which the illustration of his hypothesis frequently +obliged him to do,—the unfortunate blight of one of the fairest +branches of the family, would set my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> honour and +modesty o’bleeding; and he would often take my father aside, in the +greatest concern imaginable, to expostulate and tell him, he would give +him anything in the world, only to let the story rest.</p> + +<p>My father, I believe, had the truest love and tenderness for my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, that ever one brother bore towards another, and would have +done any thing in nature, which one brother in reason could have desir’d +of another, to have made my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> heart easy in this, or +any other point. But this lay out of his power.</p> + +<p>——My father, as I told you, was a philosopher in +grain,—speculative,—systematical;—and my aunt +<i>Dinah’s</i> affair was a +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page51" id = "page51">51</a></span> +matter of as much consequence to him, as the retrogradation of the +planets to <i>Copernicus</i>:—The backslidings of <i>Venus</i> in +her orbit fortified the <i>Copernican</i> system, called so after his +name; and the backslidings of my aunt <i>Dinah</i> in her orbit, did the +same service in establishing my father’s system, which, I trust, +will for ever hereafter be called the <i>Shandean System</i>, after +this.</p> + +<p>In any other family dishonour, my father, I believe, had as nice a +sense of shame as any man whatever;——and neither he, nor, +I dare say, <i>Copernicus</i>, would have divulged the affair in +either case, or have taken the least notice of it to the world, but for +the obligations they owed, as they thought, to truth.—<i>Amicus +Plato</i>, my father would say, construing the words to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, as he went along, <i>Amicus Plato</i>; that is, <span class += "smallcaps">Dinah</span> was my aunt;—<i>sed magis amica +veritas</i>——but <span class = "smallcaps">Truth</span> is +my sister.</p> + +<p>This contrariety of humours betwixt my father and my uncle, was the +source of many a fraternal squabble. The one could not bear to hear the +tale of family disgrace recorded,——and the other would +scarce ever let a day pass to an end without some hint at it.</p> + +<p>For God’s sake, my uncle <i>Toby</i> would cry,——and for +my sake, and for all our sakes, my dear brother <i>Shandy</i>,—do +let this story of our aunt’s and her ashes sleep in +peace;——how can you,——how can you have so little +feeling and compassion for the character of our +family?——What is the character of a family to an hypothesis? +my father would reply.——Nay, if you come to that—what +is the life of a family?——The life of a family!—my +uncle <i>Toby</i> would say, throwing himself back in his arm chair, and +lifting up his hands, his eyes, and one leg.——Yes, the +life,——my father would say, maintaining his point. How many +thousands of ’em are there every year that come cast away, (in all +civilized countries at least)——and considered as nothing but +common air, in competition of an hypothesis. In my plain sense of +things, my uncle <i>Toby</i> would answer,——every such +instance is downright <span class = "smallcaps">Murder</span>, let who +will commit it.——There lies your mistake, my father would +reply;——for, in <i>Foro Scientiæ</i> there is no such thing +as <span class = "smallcaps">Murder</span>,——’tis only <span +class = "smallcaps">Death</span>, brother.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> would never offer to answer this by any other +kind of argument, than that of whistling half a dozen bars of +<i>Lillabullero</i>.——You must know it was the usual channel +thro’ which his passions got vent, when any thing shocked or surprized +him:——but especially when any thing, which he deem’d very +absurd, was offered.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page52" id = "page52">52</a></span> +<p>As not one of our logical writers, nor any of the commentators upon +them, that I remember, have thought proper to give a name to this +particular species of argument,—I here take the liberty to do +it myself, for two reasons. First, That, in order to prevent all +confusion in disputes, it may stand as much distinguished for ever, from +every other species of argument———as the <i>Argumentum +ad Verecundiam</i>, <i>ex Absurdo, ex Fortiori</i>, or any other +argument whatsoever:——And, secondly, That it may be said by +my children’s children, when my head is laid to rest,——that +their learn’d grandfather’s head had been busied to as much purpose +once, as other people’s;—That he had invented a name,—and +generously thrown it into the <span class = "smallcaps">Treasury</span> +of the <i>Ars Logica</i>, for one of the most unanswerable arguments in +the whole science. And, if the end of disputation is more to silence +than convince,—they may add, if they please, to one of the best +arguments too.</p> + +<p>I do therefore, by these presents, strictly order and command, That +it be known and distinguished by the name and title of the <i>Argumentum +Fistulatorium</i>, and no other;—and that it rank hereafter with +the <i>Argumentum Baculinum</i> and the <i>Argumentum ad Crumenam</i>, +and for ever hereafter be treated of in the same chapter.</p> + +<p>As for the <i>Argumentum Tripodium</i>, which is never used but by +the woman against the man;—and the <i>Argumentum ad Rem</i>, +which, contrarywise, is made use of by the man only against the +woman;—As these two are enough in conscience for one +lecture;——and, moreover, as the one is the best answer to +the other,—let them likewise be kept apart, and be treated of in a +place by themselves.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXXII" id = "bookI_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> learned Bishop <i>Hall</i>, I +mean the famous Dr. <i>Joseph Hall</i>, who was Bishop of <i>Exeter</i> +in King <i>James</i> the First’s reign, tells us in one of his +<i>Decads</i>, at the end of his divine art of meditation, imprinted at +<i>London</i>, in the year 1610, by <i>John Beal</i>, dwelling in +<i>Aldersgate-street</i>, “That it is an abominable thing for a man to +commend himself;”——and I really think it is so.</p> + +<p>And yet, on the other hand, when a thing is executed in a masterly +kind of a fashion, which thing is not likely to be found +out;—I think it is full as abominable, that a man should lose +the honour of it, and go out of the world with the conceit of it rotting +in his head.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page53" id = "page53">53</a></span> +<p>This is precisely my situation.</p> + +<p>For in this long digression which I was accidentally led into, as in +all my digressions (one only excepted) there is a masterstroke of +digressive skill, the merit of which has all along, I fear, been +overlooked by my reader,—not for want of penetration in +him,—but because ’tis an excellence seldom looked for, or expected +indeed, in a digression;—and it is this: That tho’ my digressions +are all fair, as you observe,—and that I fly off from what I am +about, as far, and as often too, as any writer in <i>Great Britain</i>; +yet I constantly take care to order affairs so that my main business +does not stand still in my absence.</p> + +<p>I was just going, for example, to have given you the great outlines +of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> most whimsical character;—when my aunt +<i>Dinah</i> and the coachman came across us, and led us a vagary some +millions of miles into the very heart of the planetary system: +Notwithstanding all this, you perceive that the drawing of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> character went on gently all the time;—not the great +contours of it,—that was impossible,—but some familiar +strokes and faint designations of it, were here and there touch’d on, as +we went along, so that you are much better acquainted with my uncle +<i>Toby</i> now than you was before.</p> + +<p>By this contrivance the machinery of my work is of a species by +itself; two contrary motions are introduced into it, and reconciled, +which were thought to be at variance with each other. In a word, my work +is digressive, and it is progressive too,—and at the same +time.</p> + +<p>This, Sir, is a very different story from that of the earth’s moving +round her axis, in her diurnal rotation, with her progress in her +elliptick orbit which brings about the year, and constitutes that +variety and vicissitude of seasons we enjoy;—though I own it +suggested the thought,—as I believe the greatest of our boasted +improvements and discoveries have come from such trifling hints.</p> + +<p>Digressions, incontestably, are the sunshine;——they are +the life, the soul of reading!—take them out of this book, for +instance,—you might as well take the book along with +them;—one cold eternal winter would reign in every page of it; +restore them to the writer;—he steps forth like a +bridegroom,—bids All-hail; brings in variety, and forbids the +appetite to fail.</p> + +<p>All the dexterity is in the good cookery and management of them, so +as to be not only for the advantage of the reader, but also of the +author, whose distress, in this matter, is truly pitiable: For, if he +begins a digression,—from that moment, I observe, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page54" id = "page54">54</a></span> +his whole work stands stock still;—and if he goes on with his main +work,—then there is an end of his digression.</p> + +<p>——This is vile work.—For which reason, from the +beginning of this, you see, I have constructed the main work and +the adventitious parts of it with such intersections, and have so +complicated and involved the digressive and progressive movements, one +wheel within another, that the whole machine, in general, has been kept +a-going;—and, what’s more, it shall be kept a-going these forty +years, if it pleases the fountain of health to bless me so long with +life and good spirits.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXXIII" id = "bookI_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I have</span> a strong propensity in me to +begin this chapter very nonsensically, and I will not baulk my +fancy.—Accordingly I set off thus:</p> + +<p>If the fixture of <i>Momus’s</i> glass in the human breast, according +to the proposed emendation of that arch-critick, had taken +place,——first, This foolish consequence would certainly have +followed,—That the very wisest and very gravest of us all, in one +coin or other, must have paid window-money every day of our lives.</p> + +<p>And, secondly, That had the said glass been there set up, nothing +more would have been wanting, in order to have taken a man’s character, +but to have taken a chair and gone softly, as you would to a dioptrical +beehive, and look’d in,—view’d the soul stark +naked;—observed all her motions,—her +machinations;—traced all her maggots from their first engendering +to their crawling forth;—watched her loose in her frisks, her +gambols, her capricios; and after some notice of her more solemn +deportment, consequent upon such frisks, etc.——then taken +your pen and ink and set down nothing but what you had seen, and could +have sworn to:—But this is an advantage not to be had by the +biographer in this planet;—in the planet <i>Mercury</i> (belike) +it may be so, if not better still for him;——for there the +intense heat of the country, which is proved by computators, from its +vicinity to the sun, to be more than equal to that of red-hot +iron,—must, I think, long ago have vitrified the bodies of +the inhabitants, (as the efficient cause) to suit them for the +climate (which is the final cause); so that betwixt them both, all the +tenements of their souls, from top to bottom, may be nothing else, for +aught the soundest philosophy can shew to the contrary, but one fine +transparent body of clear glass (bating the umbilical +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page55" id = "page55">55</a></span> +knot)—so that, till the inhabitants grow old and tolerably +wrinkled, whereby the rays of light, in passing through them, become so +monstrously refracted,——or return reflected from their +surfaces in such transverse lines to the eye, that a man cannot be seen +through;—his soul might as well, unless for mere ceremony, or the +trifling advantage which the umbilical point gave her,—might, upon +all other accounts, I say, as well play the fool out o’doors as in +her own house.</p> + +<p>But this, as I said above, is not the case of the inhabitants of this +earth;—our minds shine not through the body, but are wrapt up here +in a dark covering of uncrystalized flesh and blood; so that, if we +would come to the specific characters of them, we must go some other way +to work.</p> + +<p>Many, in good truth, are the ways, which human wit has been forced to +take, to do this thing with exactness.</p> + +<p>Some, for instance, draw all their characters with +wind-instruments.—<i>Virgil</i> takes notice of that way in the +affair of <i>Dido</i> and <i>Æneas</i>;—but it is as fallacious as +the breath of fame;—and, moreover, bespeaks a narrow genius. +I am not ignorant that the <i>Italians</i> pretend to a +mathematical exactness in their designations of one particular sort of +character among them, from the <i>forte</i> or <i>piano</i> of a certain +wind-instrument they use,—which they say is +infallible.—I dare not mention the name of the instrument in +this place;—’tis sufficient we have it amongst us,—but never +think of making a drawing by it;—this is ænigmatical, and intended +to be so, at least <i>ad populum</i>:—And therefore, I beg, +Madam, when you come here, that you read on as fast as you can, and +never stop to make any inquiry about it.</p> + +<p>There are others again, who will draw a man’s character from no other +helps in the world, but merely from his evacuations;—but this +often gives a very incorrect outline,—unless, indeed, you take a +sketch of his repletions too; and by correcting one drawing from the +other, compound one good figure out of them both.</p> + +<p>I should have no objection to this method, but that I think it must +smell too strong of the lamp,—and be render’d still more operose, +by forcing you to have an eye to the rest of his +<i>Non-naturals</i>.——Why the most natural actions of a +man’s life should be called his Non-naturals,—is another +question.</p> + +<p>There are others, fourthly, who disdain every one of these +expedients;—not from any fertility of their own, but from the +various ways of doing it, which they have borrowed from the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page56" id = "page56">56</a></span> +honourable devices which the Pentagraphic Brethren<a class = "tag" name += "tag_1_3" id = "tag_1_3" href = "#note_1_3">3</a> of the brush have +shewn in taking copies.—These, you must know, are your great +historians.</p> + +<p>One of these you will see drawing a full-length character <i>against +the light</i>;—that’s illiberal,—dishonest,—and hard +upon the character of the man who sits.</p> + +<p>Others, to mend the matter, will make a drawing of you in the +<i>Camera</i>;—that is most unfair of all,—because, +<i>there</i> you are sure to be represented in some of your most +ridiculous attitudes.</p> + +<p>To avoid all and every one of these errors in giving you my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> character, I am determined to draw it by no +mechanical help whatever;——nor shall my pencil be guided by +any one wind-instrument which ever was blown upon, either on this, or on +the other side of the <i>Alps</i>;—nor will I consider either his +repletions or his discharges,—or touch upon his +Non-naturals—but, in a word, I will draw my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> character from his <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXXIV" id = "bookI_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">If</span> I was not morally sure that the +reader must be out of all patience for my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +character,——I would here previously have convinced him +that there is no instrument so fit to draw such a thing with, as that +which I have pitch’d upon.</p> + +<p>A man and his <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>, tho’ I +cannot say that they act and re-act exactly after the same manner in +which the soul and body do upon each other: Yet doubtless there is a +communication between them of some kind; and my opinion rather is, that +there is something in it more of the manner of electrified +bodies,—and that, by means of the heated parts of the rider, which +come immediately into contact with the back of the <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>,—by long journeys and much +friction, it so happens, that the body of the rider is at length fill’d +as full of <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horsical</span> matter as it +can hold;——so that if you are able to give but a clear +description of the nature of the one, you may form a pretty exact notion +of the genius and character of the other.</p> + +<p>Now the <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> which my uncle +<i>Toby</i> always rode upon, was in my opinion a <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> well worth giving a description of, if it +was only upon the score of his great singularity;—for +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page57" id = "page57">57</a></span> +you might have travelled from <i>York</i> to <i>Dover</i>,—from +<i>Dover</i> to <i>Penzance</i> in <i>Cornwall</i>, and from +<i>Penzance</i> to <i>York</i> back again, and not have seen such +another upon the road; or if you had seen such a one, whatever haste you +had been in, you must infallibly have stopp’d to have taken a view of +him. Indeed, the gait and figure of him was so strange, and so utterly +unlike was he, from his head to his tail, to any one of the whole +species, that it was now and then made a matter of +dispute,——whether he was really a <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> or no: but as the Philosopher would use +no other argument to the Sceptic, who disputed with him against the +reality of motion, save that of rising up upon his legs, and walking +across the room;—so would my uncle <i>Toby</i> use no other +argument to prove his <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> was a +<span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> indeed, but by getting upon +his back and riding him about;—leaving the world, after that, to +determine the point as it thought fit.</p> + +<p>In good truth, my uncle <i>Toby</i> mounted him with so much +pleasure, and he carried my uncle <i>Toby</i> so well,——that +he troubled his head very little with what the world either said or +thought about it.</p> + +<p>It is now high time, however, that I give you a description of +him:—But to go on regularly, I only beg you will give me +leave to acquaint you first, how my uncle <i>Toby</i> came by him.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookI_chapXXV" id = "bookI_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> wound in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +groin, which he received at the siege of <i>Namur</i>, rendering him +unfit for the service, it was thought expedient he should return to +<i>England</i>, in order, if possible, to be set to rights.</p> + +<p>He was four years totally confined,—part of it to his bed, and +all of it to his room: and in the course of his cure, which was all that +time in hand, suffer’d unspeakable miseries,—owing to a succession +of exfoliations from the <i>os pubis</i>, and the outward edge of that +part of the <i>coxendix</i> called the <i>os +illium</i>,——both which bones were dismally crush’d, as much +by the irregularity of the stone, which I told you was broke off the +parapet,—as by its size,—(tho’ it was pretty large) which +inclined the surgeon all along to think, that the great injury which it +had done my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> groin, was more owing to the gravity of +the stone itself, than to the projectile force of it,—which he +would often tell him was a great happiness.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page58" id = "page58">58</a></span> +<p>My father at that time was just beginning business in <i>London</i>, +and had taken a house;—and as the truest friendship and cordiality +subsisted between the two brothers,—and that my father thought my +uncle <i>Toby</i> could no where be so well nursed and taken care of as +in his own house,——he assign’d him the very best apartment +in it.—And what was a much more sincere mark of his affection +still, he would never suffer a friend or an acquaintance to step into +the house on any occasion, but he would take him by the hand, and lead +him up stairs to see his brother <i>Toby</i>, and chat an hour by his +bedside.</p> + +<p>The history of a soldier’s wound beguiles the pain of it;—my +uncle’s visitors at least thought so, and in their daily calls upon him, +from the courtesy arising out of that belief, they would frequently turn +the discourse to that subject,—and from that subject the discourse +would generally roll on to the siege itself.</p> + +<p>These conversations were infinitely kind; and my uncle <i>Toby</i> +received great relief from them, and would have received much more, but +that they brought him into some unforeseen perplexities, which, for +three months together, retarded his cure greatly; and if he had not hit +upon an expedient to extricate himself out of them, I verily +believe they would have laid him in his grave.</p> + +<p>What these perplexities of my uncle <i>Toby</i> +were,——’tis impossible for you to guess;—if you +could,—I should blush; not as a relation,—not as a +man,—nor even as a woman,—but I should blush as an author; +inasmuch as I set no small store by myself upon this very account, that +my reader has never yet been able to guess at anything. And in this, +Sir, I am of so nice and singular a humour, that if I thought you +was able to form the least judgment or probable conjecture to yourself, +of what was to come in the next page,—I would tear it out of +my book.</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> +<p><a name = "note_1_1" id = "note_1_1" href = "#tag_1_1">1.</a> +The <i>Romish</i> Rituals direct the baptizing of the child, in cases of +danger, <i>before</i> it is born;—but upon this proviso, That some +part or other of the child’s body be seen by the +baptizer:——But the Doctors of the <i>Sorbonne</i>, by a +deliberation held amongst them, <i>April</i> 10, 1733,—have +enlarged the powers of the midwives, by determining, That though no part +of the child’s body should appear,——that baptism shall, +nevertheless, be administered to it by injection,—<i>par le moyen +d’une petite canulle</i>,—Anglicè <i>a +squirt</i>.——’Tis very strange that St. <i>Thomas +Aquinas</i>, who had so good a mechanical head, both for tying and +untying the knots of school-divinity,—should, after so much pains +bestowed upon this,—give up the point at last, as a second <i>La +chose impossible</i>,—“Infantes in maternis uteris existentes +(quoth <ins class = "correction" title = ". missing">St.</ins> +<i>Thomas!</i>) baptizari possunt <i>nullo modo</i>.”—O <i>Thomas! +Thomas!</i></p> + +<p>If the reader has the curiosity to see the question upon baptism +<i>by injection</i>, as presented to the Doctors of the <i>Sorbonne</i>, +with their consultation thereupon, it is as follows.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_1_2" id = "note_1_2" href = "#tag_1_2">2.</a> +Vide Deventer, Paris edit., 4to, 1734, p. 366.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_1_3" id = "note_1_3" href = "#tag_1_3">3.</a> +<ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: expected form is ‘pantagraph’">Pentagraph</ins>, an instrument to copy Prints and +Pictures mechanically, and in any proportion.</p> +</div> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page59" id = "page59">59</a></span> + +<h3><a name = "bookII" id = "bookII">BOOK II</a></h3> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapI" id = "bookII_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I have</span> begun a new book, on purpose +that I might have room enough to explain the nature of the perplexities +in which my uncle <i>Toby</i> was involved, from the many discourses and +interrogations about the siege of <i>Namur</i>, where he received his +wound.</p> + +<p>I must remind the reader, in case he has read the history of King +<i>William’s</i> wars,—but if he has not,—I then inform +him, that one of the most memorable attacks in that siege, was that +which was made by the <i>English</i> and <i>Dutch</i> upon the point of +the advanced counterscarp, between the gate of <i>St. Nicolas</i>, which +inclosed the great sluice or water-stop, where the <i>English</i> were +terribly exposed to the shot of the counter-guard and demi-bastion of +<i>St. Roch</i>. The issue of which hot dispute, in three words, was +this; That the <i>Dutch</i> lodged themselves upon the +counter-guard,—and that the <i>English</i> made themselves masters +of the covered-way before <i>St. Nicolas</i>-gate, notwithstanding the +gallantry of the <i>French</i> officers, who exposed themselves upon the +glacis sword in hand.</p> + +<p>As this was the principal attack of which my uncle <i>Toby</i> was an +eye-witness at <i>Namur</i>,——the army of the besiegers +being cut off, by the confluence of the <i>Maes</i> and <i>Sambre</i>, +from seeing much of each other’s operations,——my uncle +<i>Toby</i> was generally more eloquent and particular in his account of +it; and the many perplexities he was in, arose out of the almost +insurmountable difficulties he found in telling his story intelligibly, +and giving such clear ideas of the differences and distinctions between +the scarp and <ins class = "correction" +title = "anomalous hyphen may be intentional">counter-scarp</ins>,—the glacis and +covered-way,—the half-moon and ravelin,—as to make his +company fully comprehend where and what he was about.</p> + +<p>Writers themselves are too apt to confound these terms; so that you +will the less wonder, if in his endeavours to explain them, and in +opposition to many misconceptions, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> did +oft-times puzzle his visitors, and sometimes himself too.</p> + +<p>To speak the truth, unless the company my father led upstairs were +tolerably clear-headed, or my uncle <i>Toby</i> was in one +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page60" id = "page60">60</a></span> +of his explanatory moods, ’twas a difficult thing, do what he could, to +keep the discourse free from obscurity.</p> + +<p>What rendered the account of this affair the more intricate to my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, was this,—that in the attack of the +counterscarp, before the gate of <i>St. Nicolas</i>, extending itself +from the bank of the <i>Maes</i>, quite up to the great +water-stop,—the ground was cut and cross cut with such a multitude +of dykes, drains, rivulets, and sluices, on all sides,—and he +would get so sadly bewildered, and set fast amongst them, that +frequently he could neither get backwards or forwards to save his life; +and was oft-times obliged to give up the attack upon that very account +only.</p> + +<p>These perplexing rebuffs gave my uncle <i>Toby Shandy</i> more +perturbations than you would imagine: and as my father’s kindness to him +was continually dragging up fresh friends and fresh +enquirers,——he had but a very uneasy task of it.</p> + +<p>No doubt my uncle <i>Toby</i> had great command of himself, could +guard appearances, I believe, as well as most men;—yet any +one may imagine, that when he could not retreat out of the ravelin +without getting into the half-moon, or get out of the covered-way +without falling down the counterscarp, nor cross the dyke without danger +of slipping into the ditch, but that he must have fretted and fumed +inwardly:—He did so; and the little and hourly vexations, which +may seem trifling and of no account to the man who has not read +<i>Hippocrates</i>, yet, whoever has read <i>Hippocrates</i>, or Dr. +<i>James Mackenzie</i>, and has considered well the effects which the +passions and affections of the mind have upon the digestion—(Why +not of a wound as well as of a dinner?)—may easily conceive what +sharp paroxysms and exacerbations of his wound my uncle <i>Toby</i> must +have undergone upon that score only.</p> + +<p>—My uncle <i>Toby</i> could not philosophize upon +it;—’twas enough he felt it was so,—and having sustained the +pain and sorrows of it for three months together, he was resolved some +way or other to extricate himself.</p> + +<p>He was one morning lying upon his back in his bed, the anguish and +nature of the wound upon his groin suffering him to lie in no other +position, when a thought came into his head, that if he could purchase +such a thing, and have it pasted down upon a board, as a large map of +the fortification of the town and citadel of <i>Namur</i>, with its +environs, it might be a means of giving him ease.—I take +notice of his desire to have the environs along with the town and +citadel, for this reason,—because my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wound was +got in one of the traverses, about thirty toises from +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page61" id = "page61">61</a></span> +the returning angle of the trench, opposite to the salient angle of the +demi-bastion of <i>St. Roch</i>:——so that he was pretty +confident he could stick a pin upon the identical spot of ground where +he was standing on when the stone struck him.</p> + +<p>All this succeeded to his wishes, and not only freed him from a world +of sad explanations, but, in the end, it proved the happy means, as you +will read, of procuring my uncle <i>Toby</i> his <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapII" id = "bookII_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> is nothing so foolish, when +you are at the expence of making an entertainment of this kind, as to +order things so badly, as to let your criticks and gentry of refined +taste run it down: Nor is there anything so likely to make them do it, +as that of leaving them out of the party, or, what is full as offensive, +of bestowing your attention upon the rest of your guests in so +particular a way, as if there was no such thing as a critick +(by occupation) at table.</p> + +<p>——I guard against both; for, in the first place, I have +left half a dozen places purposely open for them;—and in the next +place, I pay them all court.—Gentlemen, I kiss your +hands, I protest no company could give me half the +pleasure,—by my soul I am glad to see +you———I beg only you will make no strangers of +yourselves, but sit down without any ceremony, and fall on heartily.</p> + +<p>I said I had left six places, and I was upon the point of carrying my +complaisance so far, as to have left a seventh open for them,—and +in this very spot I stand on; but being told by a Critick (tho’ not by +occupation,—but by nature) that I had acquitted myself well +enough, I shall fill it up directly, hoping, in the meantime, that +I shall be able to make a great deal of more room next year.</p> + +<p>———How, in the name of wonder! could your uncle +<i>Toby</i>, who, it seems, was a military man, and whom you have +represented as no fool,——be at the same time such a +confused, pudding-headed, muddle-headed, fellow, as—Go look.</p> + +<p>So, Sir Critick, I could have replied; but I scorn it.—’Tis +language unurbane,—and only befitting the man who cannot give +clear and satisfactory accounts of things, or dive deep enough into the +first causes of human ignorance and confusion. It is moreover the reply +valiant—and therefore I reject it: for tho’ it might have suited +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> character as a soldier excellently +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page62" id = "page62">62</a></span> +well, and had he not accustomed himself, in such attacks, to whistle the +<i>Lillabullero</i>, as he wanted no courage, ’tis the very answer he +would have given; yet it would by no means have done for me. You see as +plain as can be, that I write as a man of erudition;—that even my +similies, my allusions, my illustrations, my metaphors, are +erudite,—and that I must sustain my character properly, and +contrast it properly too,—else what would become of me? Why, Sir, +I should be undone;—at this very moment that I am going here +to fill up one place against a critick,—I should have made an +opening for a couple.</p> + +<p>——Therefore I answer thus:</p> + +<p>Pray, Sir, in all the reading which you have ever read, did you ever +read such a book as <i>Locke’s</i> Essay upon the Human +Understanding?——Don’t answer me rashly—because many, +I know, quote the book, who have not read it—and many have +read it who understand it not:—If either of these is your case, as +I write to instruct, I will tell you in three words what the book +is.—It is a history.—A history! of who? what? where? +when? Don’t hurry yourself——It is a history-book, Sir (which +may possibly recommend it to the world) of what passes in a man’s own +mind; and if you will say so much of the book, and no more, believe me, +you will cut no contemptible figure in a metaphysick circle.</p> + +<p>But this by the way.</p> + +<p>Now if you will venture to go along with me, and look down into the +bottom of this matter, it will be found that the cause of obscurity and +confusion, in the mind of a man, is threefold.</p> + +<p>Dull organs, dear Sir, in the first place. Secondly, slight and +transient impressions made by the objects, when the said organs are not +dull. And thirdly, a memory like unto a sieve, not able to retain +what it has received.—Call down <i>Dolly</i> your chambermaid, and +I will give you my cap and bell along with it, if I make not this matter +so plain that <i>Dolly</i> herself should understand it as well as +<i>Malbranch</i>.——When <i>Dolly</i> has indited her epistle +to <i>Robin</i>, and has thrust her arm into the bottom of her pocket +hanging by her right side;—take that opportunity to recollect that +the organs and faculties of perception can, by nothing in this world, be +so aptly typified and explained as by that one thing which +<i>Dolly’s</i> hand is in search of.—Your organs are not so dull +that I should inform you—’tis an inch, Sir, of red seal-wax.</p> + +<p>When this is melted, and dropped upon the letter, if <i>Dolly</i> +fumbles too long for her thimble, till the wax is over hardened, it will +not receive the mark of her thimble from the usual impulse +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page63" id = "page63">63</a></span> +which was wont to imprint it. Very well. If <i>Dolly’s</i> wax, for want +of better, is bees-wax, or of a temper too soft,—tho’ it may +receive,—it will not hold the impression, how hard soever +<i>Dolly</i> thrusts against it; and last of all, supposing the wax +good, and eke the thimble, but applied thereto in careless haste, as her +Mistress rings the bell;——in any one of these three cases +the print left by the thimble will be as unlike the prototype as a +brass-jack.</p> + +<p>Now you must understand that not one of these was the true cause of +the confusion in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> discourse; and it is for that +very reason I enlarge upon them so long, after the manner of great +physiologists—to shew the world, what it did <i>not</i> arise +from.</p> + +<p>What it did arise from, I have hinted above, and a fertile source of +obscurity it is,—and ever will be,—and that is the unsteady +uses of words, which have perplexed the clearest and most exalted +understandings.</p> + +<p>It is ten to one (at <i>Arthur’s</i>) whether you have ever read the +literary histories of past ages;—if you have, what terrible +battles, <ins class = "correction" +title = "apostrophe in original">’yclept</ins> logomachies, have they occasioned and +perpetuated with so much gall and ink-shed,—that a good-natured +man cannot read the accounts of them without tears in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Gentle critick! when thou hast weighed all this, and considered +within thyself how much of thy own knowledge, discourse, and +conversation has been pestered and disordered at one time or other, by +this, and this only:—What a pudder and racket in <span class = +"smallcaps">Councils</span> about <ins class = "correction greek" title += "ousia [printed ούσία]">οὐσία</ins> and <span class = "greek" title = +"hupostasis">ὑπόστασις</span>; and in the <span class = +"smallcaps">Schools</span> of the learned about power and about +spirit;—about essences, and about +quintessences;——about substances, and about +space.——What confusion in greater <span class = +"smallcaps">Theatres</span> from words of little meaning, and as +indeterminate a sense! when thou considerest this, thou wilt not wonder +at my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> perplexities,—thou wilt drop a tear of +pity upon his scarp and his counterscarp;—his glacis and his +covered way;—his ravelin and his half-moon: ’Twas not by +ideas,—by Heaven; his life was put in jeopardy by words.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapIII" id = "bookII_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> got his +map of <i>Namur</i> to his mind, he began immediately to apply himself, +and with the utmost diligence, to the study of it; for nothing being of +more +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page64" id = "page64">64</a></span> +importance to him than his recovery, and his recovery depending, as you +have read, upon the passions and affections of his mind, it behoved him +to take the nicest care to make himself so far master of his subject, as +to be able to talk upon it without emotion.</p> + +<p>In a fortnight’s close and painful application, which, by the bye, +did my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wound, upon his groin, no good,—he was +enabled, by the help of some marginal documents at the feet of the +elephant, together with <i>Gobesius’s</i> military architecture and +pyroballogy, translated from the <i>Flemish</i>, to form his discourse +with passable perspicuity; and before he was two full months +gone,—he was right eloquent upon it, and could make not only the +attack of the advanced counterscarp with great order;——but +having, by that time, gone much deeper into the art, than what his first +motive made necessary, my uncle <i>Toby</i> was able to cross the +<i>Maes</i> and <i>Sambre</i>; make diversions as far as <i>Vauban’s</i> +line, the abbey of <i>Salsines</i>, etc., and give his visitors as +distinct a history of each of their attacks, as of that of the gate of +<i>St. Nicolas</i>, where he had the honour to receive his wound.</p> + +<p>But desire of knowledge, like the thirst of riches, increases ever +with the acquisition of it. The more my uncle <i>Toby</i> pored over his +map, the more he took a liking to it!—by the same process and +electrical assimilation, as I told you, through which I ween the souls +of connoisseurs themselves, by long friction and incumbition, have the +happiness, at length, to get all +be-virtu’d—be-pictured,—be-butterflied, and befiddled.</p> + +<p>The more my uncle <i>Toby</i> drank of this sweet fountain of +science, the greater was the heat and impatience of his thirst, so that +before the first year of his confinement had well gone round, there was +scarce a fortified town in <i>Italy</i> or <i>Flanders</i>, of which, by +one means or other, he had not procured a plan, reading over as he got +them, and carefully collating therewith the histories of their sieges, +their demolitions, their improvements, and new works, all which he would +read with that intense application and delight, that he would forget +himself, his wound, his confinement, his dinner.</p> + +<p>In the second year my uncle <i>Toby</i> purchased <i>Ramelli</i> and +<i>Cataneo</i>, translated from the <i>Italian</i>;—likewise +<i>Stevinus</i>, <i>Moralis</i>, the Chevalier <i>de Ville</i>, +<i>Lorini</i>, <i>Cochorn</i>, <i>Sheeter</i>, the Count <i>de +Pagan</i>, the Marshal <i>Vauban</i>, Mons. <i>Blondel</i>, with almost +as many more books of military architecture, as Don <i>Quixote</i> was +found to have of chivalry, when the curate and barber invaded his +library.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page65" id = "page65">65</a></span> +<p>Towards the beginning of the third year, which was in <i>August</i>, +ninety-nine, my uncle <i>Toby</i> found it necessary to understand a +little of projectiles:—and having judged it best to draw his +knowledge from the fountain-head, he began with <i>N. Tartaglia</i>, who +it seems was the first man who detected the imposition of a +cannon-ball’s doing all that mischief under the notion of a right +line—This <i>N. Tartaglia</i> proved to my uncle <i>Toby</i> +to be an impossible thing.</p> + +<p>——Endless is the search of Truth.</p> + +<p>No sooner was my uncle <i>Toby</i> satisfied which road the +cannon-ball did not go, but he was insensibly led on, and resolved in +his mind to enquire and find out which road the ball did go: For which +purpose he was obliged to set off afresh with old <i>Maltus</i>, and +studied him devoutly.—He proceeded next to <i>Galileo</i> and +<i>Torricellius</i>, wherein, by certain Geometrical rules, infallibly +laid down, he found the precise part to be a <span class = +"smallcaps">Parabola</span>—or else an <span class = +"smallcaps">Hyperbola</span>,—and that the parameter, or <i>latus +rectum</i>, of the conic section of the said path, was to the quantity +and amplitude in a direct <i>ratio</i>, as the whole line to the sine of +double the angle of incidence, formed by the breech upon an horizontal +plane;—and that the semiparameter,——stop! my dear +uncle <i>Toby</i>——stop!—go not one foot farther into +this thorny and bewildered track,—intricate are the steps! +intricate are the mazes of this labyrinth! intricate are the troubles +which the pursuit of this bewitching phantom <span class = +"smallcaps">Knowledge</span> will bring upon thee.—O my +uncle;—fly—fly, fly from it as from a +serpent.——Is it fit——good-natured man! thou +should’st sit up, with the wound upon thy groin, whole nights baking thy +blood with hectic watchings?——Alas! ’twill exasperate thy +symptoms,—check thy perspirations—evaporate thy +spirits—waste thy animal strength,—dry up thy radical +moisture, bring thee into a costive habit of body,——impair +thy health,——and hasten all the infirmities of thy old +age.——O my uncle! my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapIV" id = "bookII_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I would</span> not give a groat for that +man’s knowledge in pencraft, who does not understand +this,——That the best plain narrative in the world, tacked +very close to the last spirited apostrophe to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——would have felt both cold and vapid upon the +reader’s palate;—therefore I forthwith put an end to the chapter, +though I was in the middle of my story.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page66" id = "page66">66</a></span> +<p>———Writers of my stamp have one principle in common +with painters. Where an exact copying makes our pictures less striking, +we choose the less evil; deeming it even more pardonable to trespass +against truth, than beauty. This is to be understood <i>cum grano +salis</i>; but be it as it will,—as the parallel is made more for +the sake of letting the apostrophe cool, than any thing else,—’tis +not very material whether upon any other score the reader approves of it +or not.</p> + +<p>In the latter end of the third year, my uncle <i>Toby</i> perceiving +that the parameter and semiparameter of the conic section angered his +wound, he left off the study of projectiles in a kind of a huff, and +betook himself to the practical part of fortification only; the pleasure +of which, like a spring held back, returned upon him with redoubled +force.</p> + +<p>It was in this year that my uncle began to break in upon the daily +regularity of a clean shirt,——to dismiss his barber +unshaven,——and to allow his surgeon scarce time sufficient +to dress his wound, concerning himself so little about it, as not to ask +him once in seven times dressing, how it went on: when, lo!—all of +a sudden, for the change was quick as lightning, he began to sigh +heavily for his recovery,——complained to my father, grew +impatient with the surgeon:——and one morning, as he heard +his foot coming up stairs, he shut up his books, and thrust aside his +instruments, in order to expostulate with him upon the protraction of +the cure, which, he told him, might surely have been accomplished at +least by that time:—He dwelt long upon the miseries he had +undergone, and the sorrows of his four years melancholy +imprisonment;—adding, that had it not been for the kind looks and +fraternal chearings of the best of brothers,—he had long since +sunk under his misfortunes.——My father was by: My uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> eloquence brought tears into his eyes;——’twas +unexpected:——My uncle <i>Toby</i>, by nature was not +eloquent;—it had the greater effect:——The surgeon was +confounded;——not that there wanted grounds for such, or +greater marks of impatience,—but ’twas unexpected too; in the four +years he had attended him, he had never seen anything like it in my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> carriage; he had never once dropped one fretful or +discontented word;——he had been all patience,—all +submission.</p> + +<p>—We lose the right of complaining sometimes by forbearing +it;—but we often treble the force:—The surgeon was +astonished; but much more so, when he heard my uncle <i>Toby</i> go on, +and peremptorily insist upon his healing up the wound directly,—or +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page67" id = "page67">67</a></span> +sending for Monsieur <i>Ronjat</i>, the king’s serjeant-surgeon, to do +it for him.</p> + +<p>The desire of life and health is implanted in man’s +nature;——the love of liberty and enlargement is a +sister-passion to it: These my uncle <i>Toby</i> had in common with his +species;——and either of them had been sufficient to account +for his earnest desire to get well and out of doors;——but I +have told you before, that nothing wrought with our family after the +common way;——and from the time and manner in which this +eager desire shewed itself in the present case, the penetrating reader +will suspect there was some other cause or crotchet for it in my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> head:——There was so, and ’tis the subject of +the next chapter to set forth what that cause and crotchet was. +I own, when that’s done, ’twill be time to return back to the +parlour fire-side, where we left my uncle <i>Toby</i> in the middle of +his sentence.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapV" id = "bookII_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> a man gives himself up to the +government of a ruling passion,—or, in other words, when his <span +class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> grows +headstrong,——farewel cool reason and fair discretion!</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wound was near well, and as soon as the +surgeon recovered his surprize, and could get leave to say as +much——he told him, ’twas just beginning to incarnate; and +that if no fresh exfoliation happened, which there was no sign +of,—it would be dried up in five or six weeks. The sound of as +many Olympiads, twelve hours before, would have conveyed an idea of +shorter duration to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mind.——The +succession of his ideas was now rapid,—he broiled with impatience +to put his design in execution;——and so, without consulting +farther with any soul living,—which, by the bye, I think is +right, when you are predetermined to take no one soul’s +advice,——he privately ordered <i>Trim</i>, his man, to pack +up a bundle of lint and dressings, and hire a chariot-and-four to be at +the door exactly by twelve o’clock that day, when he knew my father +would be upon ’Change.——So leaving a banknote upon the table +for the surgeon’s care of him, and a letter of tender thanks for his +brother’s—he packed up his maps, his books of fortification, his +instruments, &c., and by the help of a crutch on one side, and +<i>Trim</i> on the other,——my uncle <i>Toby</i> embarked for +<i>Shandy-Hall</i>.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page68" id = "page68">68</a></span> +<p>The reason, or rather the rise of this sudden demigration was as +follows:</p> + +<p>The table in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> room, and at which, the night +before this change happened, he was sitting with his maps, &c., +about him—being somewhat of the smallest, for that infinity of +great and small instruments of knowledge which usually lay crowded upon +it—he had the accident, in reaching over for his tobacco-box, to +throw down his compasses, and in stooping to take the compasses up, with +his sleeve he threw down his case of instruments and snuffers;—and +as the dice took a run against him, in his endeavouring to catch the +snuffers in falling,——he thrust Monsieur <i>Blondel</i> off +the table, and Count <i>de Pagan</i> o’top of him.</p> + +<p>’Twas to no purpose for a man, lame as my uncle <i>Toby</i> was, to +think of redressing these evils by himself,—he rung his bell for +his man <i>Trim</i>;———<i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, prithee see what confusion I have here been +making—I must have some better contrivance, +<i>Trim</i>.——Can’st not thou take my rule, and measure the +length and breadth of this table, and then go and bespeak me one as big +again?——Yes, an’ please your Honour, replied <i>Trim</i>, +making a bow; but I hope your Honour will be soon well enough to get +down to your country-seat, where,—as your Honour takes so much +pleasure in fortification, we could manage this matter to a T.</p> + +<p>I must here inform you, that this servant of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>, +who went by the name of <i>Trim</i>, had been a corporal in my uncle’s +own company,—his real name was <i>James Butler</i>,—but +having got the nick-name of <i>Trim</i> in the regiment, my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, unless when he happened to be very angry with him, would +never call him by any other name.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow had been disabled for the service, by a wound on his +left knee by a musket-bullet, at the battle of <i>Landen</i>, which was +two years before the affair of <i>Namur</i>;—and as the fellow was +well-beloved in the regiment, and a handy fellow into the bargain, my +uncle <i>Toby</i> took him for his servant; and of an excellent use was +he, attending my uncle <i>Toby</i> in the camp and in his quarters as a +valet, groom, barber, cook, sempster, and nurse; and indeed, from first +to last, waited upon him and served him with great fidelity and +affection.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> loved the man in return, and what attached him +more to him still, was the similitude of their +knowledge.——For Corporal <i>Trim</i> (for so, for the +future, I shall call him), by four years occasional attention to +his Master’s discourse upon +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page69" id = "page69">69</a></span> +fortified towns, and the advantage of prying and peeping continually +into his Master’s plans, &c., exclusive and besides what he gained +<span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horsically</span>, as a body-servant, +<i>Non Hobby Horsical per se</i>;——had become no mean +proficient in the science; and was thought, by the cook and +chamber-maid, to know as much of the nature of strongholds as my uncle +<i>Toby</i> himself.</p> + +<p>I have but one more stroke to give to finish Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> +character,——and it is the only dark line in it.—The +fellow loved to advise,—or rather to hear himself talk; his +carriage, however, was so perfectly respectful, ’twas easy to keep him +silent when you had him so; but set his tongue a-going,—you had no +hold of him—he was voluble;—the eternal interlardings of +<i>your Honour</i>, with the respectfulness of Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> +manner, interceding so strong in behalf of his elocution,—that +though you might have been incommoded,——you could not well +be angry. My uncle <i>Toby</i> was seldom either the one or the other +with him,—or, at least, this fault, in <i>Trim</i>, broke no +squares with them. My uncle <i>Toby</i>, as I said, loved the +man;——and besides, as he ever looked upon a faithful +servant,—but as an humble friend,—he could not bear to stop +his mouth.——Such was Corporal <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>If I durst presume, continued <i>Trim</i>, to give your Honour my +advice, and speak my opinion in this matter.—Thou art welcome, +<i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>—speak,——speak +what thou thinkest upon the subject, man, without fear. Why then, +replied <i>Trim</i> (not hanging his ears and scratching his head like a +country-lout, but) stroking his hair back from his forehead, and +standing erect as before his division,—I think, quoth +<i>Trim</i>, advancing his left, which was his lame leg, a little +forwards,—and pointing with his right hand open towards a map of +<i>Dunkirk</i>, which was pinned against the +hangings,——I think, quoth Corporal <i>Trim</i>, with +humble submission to your Honour’s better judgment,——that +these ravelins, bastions, curtins, and horn-works, make but a poor, +contemptible, fiddle-faddle piece of work of it here upon paper, +compared to what your Honour and I could make of it were we in the +country by ourselves, and had but a rood, or a rood and a half of ground +to do what we pleased with: As summer is coming on, continued +<i>Trim</i>, your Honour might sit out of doors, and give me the +nography—(Call it ichnography, quoth my uncle)——of the +town or citadel, your Honour was pleased to sit down before,—and I +will be shot by your Honour upon the glacis of it, if I did not fortify +it to your Honour’s mind——I dare say thou would’st, +<i>Trim</i>, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page70" id = "page70">70</a></span> +quoth my uncle.—For if your Honour, continued the Corporal, could +but mark me the polygon, with its exact lines and angles—That I +could do very well, quoth my uncle.—I would begin with the +fossé, and if your Honour could tell me the proper depth and +breadth—I can to a hair’s breadth, <i>Trim</i>, replied my +uncle.—I would throw out the earth upon this hand towards the +town for the scarp,—and on that hand towards the campaign for the +counterscarp.—Very right, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>:——And when I had sloped them to your +mind,——an’ please your Honour, I would face the glacis, +as the finest fortifications are done in <i>Flanders</i>, with +sods,——and as your Honour knows they should be,—and I +would make the walls and parapets with sods too.—The best +engineers call them gazons, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——Whether they are gazons or sods, is not much +matter, replied <i>Trim</i>; your Honour knows they are ten times beyond +a facing either of brick or stone.——I know they are, +<i>Trim</i>, in some respects,——quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +nodding his head;—for a cannon-ball enters into the gazon right +onwards, without bringing any rubbish down with it, which might fill the +fossé (as was the case at <i>St. Nicolas’s</i> gate), and +facilitate the passage over it.</p> + +<p>Your Honour understands these matters, replied Corporal <i>Trim</i>, +better than any officer in his Majesty’s service;——but would +your Honour please to let the bespeaking of the table alone, and let us +but go into the country, I would work under your Honour’s +directions like a horse, and make fortifications for you something like +a tansy, with all their batteries, saps, ditches, and palisadoes, that +it should be worth all the world’s riding twenty miles to go and +see it.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> blushed as red as scarlet as <i>Trim</i> went +on;—but it was not a blush of guilt,—of modesty,—or of +anger,—it was a blush of joy;—he was fired with Corporal +<i>Trim’s</i> project and description.——<i>Trim!</i> said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, thou hast said enough.—We might begin the +campaign, continued <i>Trim</i>, on the very day that his Majesty and +the Allies take the field, and demolish them town by town as fast +as—<i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, say no more. Your +Honour, continued <i>Trim</i>, might sit in your arm-chair (pointing +to it) this fine weather, giving me your orders, and I +would——Say no more, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——Besides, your Honour would get not only +pleasure and good pastime,—but good air, and good exercise, and +good health,—and your Honour’s wound would be well in a month. +Thou hast said enough, <i>Trim</i>,—quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i> +(putting his +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page71" id = "page71">71</a></span> +hand into his breeches-pocket)——I like thy project +mightily.—And if your Honour pleases, I’ll this moment go and buy +a pioneer’s spade to take down with us, and I’ll bespeak a shovel and a +pick-axe, and a couple of——Say no more, <i>Trim</i>, quoth +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, leaping up upon one leg, quite overcome with +rapture,—and thrusting a guinea into <i>Trim’s</i> +hand,—<i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, say no +more;—but go down, <i>Trim</i>, this moment, my lad, and bring up +my supper this instant.</p> + +<p><i>Trim</i> ran down and brought up his master’s +supper,——to no purpose:—<i>Trim’s</i> plan of +operation ran so in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> head, he could not taste +it.—<i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, get me to +bed.—’Twas all one.—Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> description had +fired his imagination,—my uncle <i>Toby</i> could not shut his +eyes.—The more he considered it, the more bewitching the scene +appeared to him;—so that, two full hours before day-light, he had +come to a final determination, and had concerted the whole plan of his +and Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> decampment.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> had a little neat country-house of his own, in +the village where my father’s estate lay at <i>Shandy</i>, which had +been left him by an old uncle, with a small estate of about one hundred +pounds a-year. Behind this house, and contiguous to it, was a +kitchen-garden of about half an acre; and at the bottom of the garden, +and cut off from it by a tall yew hedge, was a bowling-green, containing +just about as much ground as Corporal <i>Trim</i> wished for;—so +that as <i>Trim</i> uttered the words, “A rood and a half of ground +to do what they would with,”—this identical bowling-green +instantly presented itself, and became curiously painted all at once, +upon the retina of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> fancy;—which was the +physical cause of making him change colour, or at least of heightening +his blush, to that immoderate degree I spoke of.</p> + +<p>Never did lover post down to a beloved mistress with more heat and +expectation, than my uncle <i>Toby</i> did, to enjoy this self-same +thing in private;—I say in private;—for it was +sheltered from the house, as I told you, by a tall yew hedge, and was +covered on the other three sides, from mortal sight, by rough holly and +thick-set flowering shrubs:—so that the idea of not being seen, +did not a little contribute to the idea of pleasure pre-conceived in my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mind.—Vain thought! however thick it was +planted about,——or private soever it might seem,—to +think, dear uncle <i>Toby</i>, of enjoying a thing which took up a whole +rood and a half of ground,——and not have it known!</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page72" id = "page72">72</a></span> +<p>How my uncle <i>Toby</i> and Corporal <i>Trim</i> managed this +matter,——with the history of their campaigns, which were no +way barren of events,——may make no uninteresting under-plot +in the epitasis and working-up of this drama.—At present the scene +must drop,—and change for the parlour fire-side.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapVI" id = "bookII_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p>——What can they be doing, brother? said my +father.—I think, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>,—taking, as I +told you, his pipe from his mouth, and striking the ashes out of it as +he began his sentence;——I think, replied he,—it +would not be amiss, brother, if we rung the bell.</p> + +<p>Pray, what’s all that racket over our heads, +<i>Obadiah?</i>——quoth my father;——my brother +and I can scarce hear ourselves speak.</p> + +<p>Sir, answered <i>Obadiah</i>, making a bow towards his left +shoulder,—my Mistress is taken very badly.—And where’s +<i>Susannah</i> running down the garden there, as if they were going to +ravish her?——Sir, she is running the shortest cut into the +town, replied <i>Obadiah</i>, to fetch the old midwife.—Then +saddle a horse, quoth my father, and do you go directly for Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, the man-midwife, with all our services,——and +let him know your mistress is fallen into labour——and that I +desire he will return with you with all speed.</p> + +<p>It is very strange, says my father, addressing himself to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, as <i>Obadiah</i> shut the door,——as there is +so expert an operator as Dr. <i>Slop</i> so near,—that my wife +should persist to the very last in this obstinate humour of hers, in +trusting the life of my child, who has had one misfortune already, to +the ignorance of an old woman;——and not only the life of my +child, brother,——but her own life, and with it the lives of +all the children I might, peradventure, have begot out of her +hereafter.</p> + +<p>Mayhap, brother, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, my sister does it to +save the expense:—A pudding’s end,—replied my +father,——the Doctor must be paid the same for inaction as +action,——if not better,—to keep him in temper.</p> + +<p>——Then it can be out of nothing in the whole world, quoth +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in the simplicity of his heart,—but <span +class = "smallcaps">Modesty</span>.—My sister, I dare say, +added he, does not care to let a man come so near her ****. I will +not say whether my uncle <i>Toby</i> had +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page73" id = "page73">73</a></span> +completed the sentence or not;——’tis for his advantage to +suppose he had,——as, I think, he could have added no +<span class = "smallcaps">One Word</span> which would have +improved it.</p> + +<p>If, on the contrary, my uncle <i>Toby</i> had not fully arrived at +the period’s end,—then the world stands indebted to the sudden +snapping of my father’s tobacco-pipe for one of the neatest examples of +that ornamental figure in oratory, which Rhetoricians stile the +<i>Aposiopesis</i>.——Just Heaven! how does the <i>Poco +piu</i> and the <i>Poco meno</i> of the <i>Italian</i> +artists;—the insensible <span class = "smallroman">MORE OR +LESS</span>, determine the precise line of beauty in the sentence, as +well as in the statute! How do the slight touches of the chisel, the +pencil, the pen, the fiddle-stick, <i>et cætera</i>,—give the true +swell, which gives the true pleasure!—O my countrymen;—be +nice;—be cautious of your language;—and never, O! never let +it be forgotten upon what small particles your eloquence and your fame +depend.</p> + +<p>——“My sister, mayhap,” quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, “does +not choose to let a man come so near her ****.” Make this +dash,—’tis an Aposiopesis.—Take the dash away, and write +<i>Backside</i>,——’tis Bawdy.—Scratch Backside out, +and put <i>Cover’d way</i> in, ’tis a Metaphor;—and, I dare +say, as fortification ran so much in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> head, that +if he had been left to have added one word to the +sentence,——that word was it.</p> + +<p>But whether that was the case or not the case;—or whether the +snapping of my father’s tobacco-pipe, so critically, happened through +accident or anger, will be seen in due time.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapVII" id = "bookII_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Tho</span>’ my father was a good natural +philosopher,—yet he was something of a moral philosopher too; for +which reason, when his tobacco-pipe snapp’d short in the +middle,—he had nothing to do, as such, but to have taken hold of +the two pieces, and thrown them gently upon the back of the +fire.——He did no such thing;——he threw them with +all the violence in the world;—and, to give the action still more +emphasis,—he started upon both his legs to do it.</p> + +<p>This looked something like heat;—and the manner of his reply to +what my uncle <i>Toby</i> was saying, proved it was so.</p> + +<p>—“Not choose,” quoth my father, (repeating my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> words) “to let a man come so near her!”——By +Heaven, brother <i>Toby!</i> you would try the patience of +<i>Job</i>;—and I think +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page74" id = "page74">74</a></span> +I have the plagues of one already without +it.——Why?——Where?——Wherein?——Wherefore?——Upon +what account? replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in the utmost +astonishment.—To think, said my father, of a man living to your +age, brother, and knowing so little about +women!——I know nothing at all about them,—replied +my uncle <i>Toby</i>: And I think, continued he, that the shock I +received the year after the demolition of <i>Dunkirk</i>, in my affair +with widow <i>Wadman</i>;—which shock you know I should not have +received, but from my total ignorance of the sex,—has given me +just cause to say, That I neither know nor do pretend to know anything +about ’em or their concerns either.—Methinks, brother, replied my +father, you might, at least, know so much as the right end of a woman +from the wrong.</p> + +<p>It is said in <i>Aristotle’s Master Piece</i>, “That when a man doth +think of anything which is past,——he looketh down upon the +ground;——but that when he thinketh of something that is to +come, he looketh up towards the heavens.”</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i>, I suppose, thought of neither, for he look’d +horizontally.—Right end! quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, muttering the +two words low to himself, and fixing his two eyes insensibly as he +muttered them, upon a small crevice, formed by a bad joint in the +chimney-piece——Right end of a +woman!——I declare, quoth my uncle, I know no more +which it is than the man in the moon;——and if I was to +think, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i> (keeping his eye still fixed upon +the bad joint) this month together, I am sure I should not be able +to find it out.</p> + +<p>Then, brother <i>Toby</i>, replied my father, I will tell you.</p> + +<p>Everything in this world, continued my father (filling a fresh +pipe)—every thing in this world, my dear brother <i>Toby</i>, has +two handles.——Not always, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——At least, replied my father, everyone has two +hands,——which comes to the same thing.——Now, if +a man was to sit down coolly, and consider within himself the make, the +shape, the construction, come-at-ability, and convenience of all the +parts which constitute the whole of that animal, called Woman, and +compare them analogically——I never understood rightly +the meaning of that word,—quoth my uncle <span class = +"locked"><i>Toby</i>.—</span></p> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">Analogy</span>, replied my father, is the +certain relation and agreement which different——Here a devil +of a rap at the door snapped my father’s definition (like his +tobacco-pipe) in two,—and, at the same time, crushed the head of +as notable and curious a dissertation as ever was engendered in the womb +of speculation;—it was some months before my father could get an +opportunity +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page75" id = "page75">75</a></span> +to be safely delivered of it:—And, at this hour, it is a thing +full as problematical as the subject of the dissertation +itself,—(considering the confusion and distresses of our domestick +misadventures, which are now coming thick one upon the back of another) +whether I shall be able to find a place for it in the third volume or +not.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapVIII" id = "bookII_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p>It is about an hour and a half’s tolerable good reading since my +uncle <i>Toby</i> rung the bell, when <i>Obadiah</i> was ordered to +saddle a horse, and go for Dr. <i>Slop</i>, the man-midwife;—so +that no one can say, with reason, that I have not allowed <i>Obadiah</i> +time enough, poetically speaking, and considering the emergency too, +both to go and come;——though, morally and truly speaking, +the man perhaps has scarce had time to get on his boots.</p> + +<p>If the hypercritick will go upon this; and is resolved after all to +take a pendulum, and measure the true distance betwixt the ringing of +the bell, and the rap at the door;—and, after finding it to be no +more than two minutes, thirteen seconds, and three fifths,—should +take upon him to insult over me for such a breach in the unity, or +rather probability of time;—I would remind him, that the idea +of duration, and of its simple modes, is got merely from the train and +succession of our ideas,——and is the true scholastic +pendulum,——and by which, as a scholar, I will be tried +in this matter,—abjuring and detesting the jurisdiction of all +other pendulums whatever.</p> + +<p>I would therefore desire him to consider that it is but poor eight +miles from <i>Shandy-Hall</i> to Dr. <i>Slop</i>, the man-midwife’s +house;—and that whilst <i>Obadiah</i> has been going those said +miles and back, I have brought my uncle <i>Toby</i> from +<i>Namur</i>, quite across all <i>Flanders</i>, into +<i>England</i>:—That I have had him ill upon my hands near four +years;—and have since travelled him and Corporal <i>Trim</i> in a +chariot-and-four, a journey of near two hundred miles down into +<i>Yorkshire</i>,——all which put together, must have +prepared the reader’s imagination for the entrance of Dr. <i>Slop</i> +upon the stage,—as much, at least (I hope) as a dance, +a song, or a concerto between the acts.</p> + +<p>If my hypercritick is intractable, alledging, that two minutes and +thirteen seconds are no more than two minutes and thirteen +seconds,—when I have said all I can about them; and that this +plea, though it might save me dramatically, will damn me biographically, +rendering my book from this very moment, a <span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page76" id = "page76">76</a></span> +professed <span class = "smallcaps">Romance</span>, which, before, was a +book apocryphal:——If I am thus pressed—I then put +an end to the whole objection and controversy about it all at +once,——by acquainting him, that <i>Obadiah</i> had not got +above threescore yards from the stable-yard before he met with Dr. +<i>Slop</i>;—and indeed he gave a dirty proof that he had met with +him, and was within an ace of giving a tragical one too.</p> + +<p>Imagine to yourself;—but this had better begin a new +chapter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapIX" id = "bookII_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Imagine</span> to yourself a little squat, +uncourtly figure of a Doctor <i>Slop</i>, of about four feet and a half +perpendicular height, with a breadth of back, and a sesquipedality of +belly, which might have done honour to a serjeant in the +horse-guards.</p> + +<p>Such were the out-lines of Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> figure, which,—if +you have read <i>Hogarth’s</i> analysis of beauty, and if you have not, +I wish you would;——you must know, may as certainly be +caricatured, and conveyed to the mind by three strokes as three +hundred.</p> + +<p>Imagine such a one,——for such, I say, were the outlines +of Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> figure, coming slowly along, foot by foot, waddling +thro’ the dirt upon the vertebræ of a little diminutive pony, of a +pretty colour——but of +strength,——alack!——scarce able to have made an +amble of it, under such a fardel, had the roads been in an ambling +condition.——They were not.——Imagine to yourself, +<i>Obadiah</i> mounted upon a strong monster of a coach-horse, pricked +into a full gallop, and making all practicable speed the adverse +way.</p> + +<p>Pray, Sir, let me interest you a moment in this description.</p> + +<p>Had Dr. <i>Slop</i> beheld <i>Obadiah</i> a mile off, posting in a +narrow lane directly towards him, at that monstrous +rate,—splashing and plunging like a devil thro’ thick and thin, as +he approached, would not such a phænomenon, with such a vortex of mud +and water moving along with it, round its axis,—have been a +subject of juster apprehension to Dr. <i>Slop</i> in his situation, than +the <i>worst</i> of <i>Whiston’s</i> comets?—To say nothing of the +<span class = "smallcaps">Nucleus</span>; that is, of <i>Obadiah</i> and +the coach-horse.—In my idea, the vortex alone of ’em was enough to +have involved and carried, if not the doctor, at least the doctor’s +pony, quite away with it. What then do you think must the terror and +hydrophobia of Dr. <i>Slop</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page77" id = "page77">77</a></span> +have been, when you read (which you are just going to do) that he +was advancing thus warily along towards <i>Shandy-Hall</i>, and had +approached to within sixty yards of it, and within five yards of a +sudden turn, made by an acute angle of the garden-wall,—and in the +dirtiest part of a dirty lane,—when <i>Obadiah</i> and his +coach-horse turned the corner, rapid, furious,—pop,—full +upon him!—Nothing, I think, in nature, can be supposed more +terrible than such a rencounter,—so imprompt! so ill prepared to +stand the shock of it as Dr. <i>Slop</i> was.</p> + +<p>What could Dr. <i>Slop</i> do?——he crossed himself + +—Pugh!—but the doctor, Sir, was a Papist.—No matter; +he had better have kept hold of the pummel—He had so;—nay, +as it happened, he had better have done nothing at all; for in crossing +himself he let go his whip,——and in attempting to save his +whip betwixt his knee and his saddle’s skirt, as it slipped, he lost his +stirrup,——in losing which he lost his seat;——and +in the multitude of all these losses (which, by the bye, shews what +little advantage there is in crossing) the unfortunate doctor lost his +presence of mind. So that without waiting for <i>Obadiah’s</i> onset, he +left his pony to its destiny, tumbling off it diagonally, something in +the stile and manner of a pack of wool, and without any other +consequence from the fall, save that of being left (as it would +have been) with the broadest part of him sunk about twelve inches deep +in the mire.</p> + +<p><i>Obadiah</i> pull’d off his cap twice to Dr. +<i>Slop</i>;—once as he was falling,—and then again when he +saw him seated.——Ill-timed complaisance;—had not the +fellow better have stopped his horse, and got off and help’d +him?—Sir, he did all that his situation would allow;—but the +<span class = "smallcaps">Momentum</span> of the coach-horse was so +great, that <i>Obadiah</i> could not do it all at once; he rode in a +circle three times round Dr. <i>Slop</i>, before he could fully +accomplish it any how;—and at the last, when he did stop his +beast, ’twas done with such an explosion of mud, that <i>Obadiah</i> had +better have been a league off. In short, never was a Dr. <i>Slop</i> so +beluted, and so transubstantiated, since that affair came into +fashion.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapX" id = "bookII_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> Dr. <i>Slop</i> entered the +back parlour, where my father and my uncle <i>Toby</i> were discoursing +upon the nature of women,——it was hard to determine whether +Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> figure, or Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page78" id = "page78">78</a></span> +presence, occasioned more surprize to them; for as the accident happened +so near the house, as not to make it worth while for <i>Obadiah</i> to +remount him,——Obadiah had led him in as he was, +<i>unwiped</i>, <i>unappointed</i>, <i>unannealed</i>, with all his +stains and blotches on him.—He stood like <i>Hamlet’s</i> ghost, +motionless and speechless, for a full minute and a half at the +parlour-door (<i>Obadiah</i> still holding his hand) with all the +majesty of mud. His hinder parts, upon which he had received his fall, +totally besmeared,——and in every other part of him, blotched +over in such a manner with <i>Obadiah’s</i> explosion, that you would +have sworn (without mental reservation) that every grain of it had taken +effect.</p> + +<p>Here was a fair opportunity for my uncle <i>Toby</i> to have +triumphed over my father in his turn;—for no mortal, who had +beheld Dr. <i>Slop</i> in that pickle, could have dissented from so much +at least, of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> opinion, “That mayhap his sister +might not care to let such a Dr. <i>Slop</i> come so near her ****.” But +it was the <i>Argumentum ad hominem</i>; and if my uncle <i>Toby</i> was +not very expert at it, you may think, he might not care to use +it.——No; the reason was,—’twas not his nature to +insult.</p> + +<p>Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> presence at that time, was no less problematical +than the mode of it; tho’ it is certain, one moment’s reflexion in my +father might have solved it; for he had apprized Dr. <i>Slop</i> but the +week before, that my mother was at her full reckoning; and as the doctor +had heard nothing since, ’twas natural and very political too in him, to +have taken a ride to <i>Shandy-Hall</i>, as he did, merely to see how +matters went on.</p> + +<p>But my father’s mind took unfortunately a wrong turn in the +investigation; running, like the hypercritick’s, altogether upon the +ringing of the bell and the rap upon the door,—measuring their +distance, and keeping his mind so intent upon the operation as to have +power to think of nothing else,——common-place infirmity of +the greatest mathematicians! working with might and main at the +demonstration, and so wasting all their strength upon it, that they have +none left in them to draw the corollary, to do good with.</p> + +<p>The ringing of the bell, and the rap upon the door, struck likewise +strong upon the sensorium of my uncle <i>Toby</i>,—but it excited +a very different train of thoughts;—the two irreconcileable +pulsations instantly brought <i>Stevinus</i>, the great engineer, along +with them, into my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mind. What business +<i>Stevinus</i> had in this affair,—is the greatest problem of +all:——It shall be solved,—but not in the next +chapter.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page79" id = "page79">79</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXI" id = "bookII_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Writing</span>, when properly managed (as +you may be sure I think mine is) is but a different name for +conversation. As no one, who knows what he is about in good company, +would venture to talk all;——so no author, who understands +the just boundaries of decorum and good-breeding, would presume to think +all: The truest respect which you can pay to the reader’s understanding, +is to halve this matter amicably, and leave him something to imagine, in +his turn, as well as yourself.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I am eternally paying him compliments of this kind, +and do all that lies in my power to keep his imagination as busy as my +own.</p> + +<p>’Tis his turn now;—I have given an ample description of Dr. +<i>Slop’s</i> sad overthrow, and of his sad appearance in the +back-parlour;—his imagination must now go on with it for a +while.</p> + +<p>Let the reader imagine then, that Dr. <i>Slop</i> has told his +tale—and in what words, and with what aggravations, his fancy +chooses;—Let him suppose, that <i>Obadiah</i> has told his tale +also, and with such rueful looks of affected concern, as he thinks best +will contrast the two figures as they stand by each +other.——Let him imagine, that my father has stepped upstairs +to see my mother.—And, to conclude this work of +imagination—let him imagine the doctor washed,—rubbed down, +and condoled,—felicitated,—got into a pair of +<i>Obadiah’s</i> pumps, stepping forwards towards the door, upon the +very point of entering upon action.</p> + +<p>Truce!—truce, good Dr. <i>Slop</i>:—stay thy obstetrick +hand;——return it safe into thy bosom to keep it +warm;——little dost thou know what +obstacles,———little dost thou think what hidden +causes, retard its operation!——Hast thou, Dr. +<i>Slop</i>,—hast thou been intrusted with the secret articles of +the solemn treaty which has brought thee into this place?—Art thou +aware that at this instant, a daughter of <i>Lucina</i> is put +obstetrically over thy head? Alas!—’tis too true.—Besides, +great son of <i>Pilumnus!</i> what canst thou do?—Thou hast come +forth unarm’d;—thou hast left thy <i>tire-tête</i>,—thy +new-invented <i>forceps</i>,—thy <i>crotchet</i>,—thy +<i>squirt</i>, and all thy instruments of salvation and deliverance, +behind thee,—By Heaven! at this moment they are hanging up in a +green bays bag, betwixt thy two pistols, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page80" id = "page80">80</a></span> +at the bed’s head!—Ring;—call;—send <i>Obadiah</i> +back upon the coach-horse to bring them with all speed.</p> + +<p>——Make great haste, <i>Obadiah</i>, quoth my father, and +I’ll give thee a crown!—and quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I’ll give +him another.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXII" id = "bookII_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Your</span> sudden and unexpected arrival, +quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, addressing himself to Dr. <i>Slop</i> (all +three of them sitting down to the fire together, as my uncle <i>Toby</i> +began to speak)—instantly brought the great <i>Stevinus</i> into +my head, who, you must know, is a favourite author with me.—Then, +added my father, making use of the argument <i>Ad +Crumenam</i>,—I will lay twenty guineas to a single +crown-piece (which will serve to give away to <i>Obadiah</i> when he +gets back) that this same <i>Stevinus</i> was some engineer or +other,—or has wrote something or other, either directly or +indirectly, upon the science of fortification.</p> + +<p>He has so,—replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—I knew it, said +my father, though, for the soul of me, I cannot see what kind of +connection there can be betwixt Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> sudden coming, and a +discourse upon fortification;—yet I fear’d it.—Talk of what +we will, brother,——or let the occasion be never so foreign +or unfit for the subject,—you are sure to bring it in. +I would not, brother <i>Toby</i>, continued my +father,———I declare I would not have my head so +full of curtins and hornworks.—That I dare say you would not, +quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, interrupting him, and laughing most immoderately +at his pun.</p> + +<p><i>Dennis</i> the critic could not detest and abhor a pun, or the +insinuation of a pun, more cordially than my father;—he would grow +testy upon it at any time;—but to be broke in upon by one, in a +serious discourse, was as bad, he would say, as a fillip upon the +nose;——he saw no difference.</p> + +<p>Sir, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, addressing himself to Dr. +<i>Slop</i>,—the curtins my brother <i>Shandy</i> mentions here, +have nothing to do with bedsteads;—tho’, I know <i>Du +Cange</i> says, “That bed-curtains, in all probability, have taken their +name from them;”—nor have the hornworks he speaks of, anything in +the world to do with the horn-works of cuckoldom:—But the +<i>Curtin</i>, Sir, is the word we use in fortification, for that part +of the wall or rampart which lies between the two bastions and joins +them—Besiegers seldom offer to carry on their attacks directly +against the curtin, for this reason, because they are so well +<i>flanked</i>. +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page81" id = "page81">81</a></span> +(’Tis the case of other curtains, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, laughing.) +However, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to make them sure, we generally +choose to place ravelins before them, taking care only to extend them +beyond the fossé or ditch:——The common men, who know very +little of fortification, confound the ravelin and the half-moon +together,—tho’ they are very different things;—not in their +figure or construction, for we make them exactly alike, in all +points;—for they always consist of two faces, making a salient +angle, with the gorges, not straight, but in form of a +crescent:——Where then lies the difference? (quoth my father, +a little testily).—In their situations, answered my uncle +<i>Toby</i>:—For when a ravelin, brother, stands before the +curtin, it is a ravelin; and when a ravelin stands before a bastion, +then the ravelin is not a ravelin;—it is a +half-moon;—a half-moon likewise is a half-moon, and no more, +so long as it stands before its bastion;——but was it to +change place, and get before the curtin,—’twould be no longer a +half-moon; a half-moon, in that case, is not a +half-moon;—’tis no more than a ravelin.——I think, +quoth my father, that the noble science of defence has its weak +sides——as well as others.</p> + +<p>—As for the horn-work (high! ho! sigh’d my father) which, +continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, my brother was speaking of, they are a +very considerable part of an outwork;——they are called by +the <i>French</i> engineers, <i>Ouvrage à corne</i>, and we generally +make them to cover such places as we suspect to be weaker than the +rest;—’tis formed by two epaulments or demi-bastions—they +are very pretty,—and if you will take a walk, I’ll engage to shew +you one well worth your trouble.—I own, continued my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, when we crown them,—they are much stronger, but then +they are very expensive, and take up a great deal of ground, so that, in +my opinion, they are most of use to cover or defend the head of a camp; +otherwise the double tenaille—By the mother who bore +us!——brother <i>Toby</i>, quoth my father, not able to hold +out any longer,——you would provoke a +saint;——here have you got us, I know not how, not only +souse into the middle of the old subject again:—But so full is +your head of these confounded works, that though my wife is this moment +in the pains of labour, and you hear her cry out, yet nothing will serve +you but to carry off the +man-midwife.——<i>Accoucheur</i>,—if you please, quoth +Dr. <i>Slop</i>.——With all my heart, replied my father, +I don’t care what they call you,—but I wish the whole science +of fortification, with all its inventors, at the devil;—it has +been the death of thousands,—and it will be mine in +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page82" id = "page82">82</a></span> +the end,—I would not, I would not, brother <i>Toby</i>, have +my brains so full of saps, mines, blinds, gabions, pallisadoes, +ravelins, half-moons, and such trumpery, to be proprietor of +<i>Namur</i>, and of all the towns in <i>Flanders</i> with it.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> was a man patient of injuries;—not from +want of courage,—I have told you in a former chapter, “that +he was a man of courage:”—And will add here, that where just +occasions presented, or called it forth,—I know no man under +whose arm I would have sooner taken shelter;——nor did this +arise from any insensibility or obtuseness of his intellectual +parts;—for he felt this insult of my father’s as feelingly as a +man could do;—but he was of a peaceful, placid nature,—no +jarring element in it,—all was mixed up so kindly within him; my +uncle <i>Toby</i> had scarce a heart to retaliate upon a fly.</p> + +<p>—Go—says he, one day at dinner, to an over-grown one +which had buzzed about his nose, and tormented him cruelly all +dinner-time,—and which after infinite attempts, he had caught at +last, as it flew by him;—I’ll not hurt thee, says my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, rising from his chair, and going across the room, with the +fly in his hand,——I’ll not hurt a hair of thy +head:—Go, says he, lifting up the sash, and opening his hand as he +spoke, to let it escape;—go, poor devil, get thee gone, why should +I hurt thee?——This world surely is wide enough to hold both +thee and me.</p> + +<p>I was but ten years old when this happened: but whether it was, that +the action itself was more in unison to my nerves at that age of pity, +which instantly set my whole frame into one vibration of most +pleasurable sensation;—or how far the manner and expression of it +might go towards it;—or in what degree, or by what secret +magick,—a tone of voice and harmony of movement, attuned by +mercy, might find a passage to my heart, I know not;—this I +know, that the lesson of universal good-will then taught and imprinted +by my uncle <i>Toby</i>, has never since been worn out of my mind: And +tho’ I would not depreciate what the study of the <i>Literæ +humaniores</i>, at the university, have done for me in that respect, or +discredit the other helps of an expensive education bestowed upon me, +both at home and abroad since;—yet I often think that I owe one +half of my philanthropy to that one accidental impression.</p> + +<p><img src = "images/finger.gif" width = "30" height = "13" alt = +"-->" /> This is to serve for parents and governors instead of a +whole volume upon the subject.</p> + +<p>I could not give the reader this stroke in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +picture, by the instrument with which I drew the other parts of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page83" id = "page83">83</a></span> +it,—that taking in no more than the mere <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horsical</span> likeness:——this is a part +of his moral character. My father, in this patient endurance of wrongs, +which I mention, was very different, as the reader must long ago have +noted; he had a much more acute and quick sensibility of nature, +attended with a little soreness of temper; tho’ this never transported +him to anything which looked like malignancy:—yet in the little +rubs and vexations of life, ’twas apt to shew itself in a drollish and +witty kind of peevishness:——He was, however, frank and +generous in his nature;——at all times open to conviction; +and in the little ebullitions of this subacid humour towards others, but +particularly towards my uncle <i>Toby</i>, whom he truly +loved:——he would feel more pain, ten times told (except in +the affair of my aunt <i>Dinah</i>, or where an hypothesis was +concerned) than what he ever gave.</p> + +<p>The characters of the two brothers, in this view of them, reflected +light upon each other, and appeared with great advantage in this affair +which arose about <i>Stevinus</i>.</p> + +<p>I need not tell the reader, if he keeps a <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>,——that a man’s <span class = +"smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> is as tender a part as he has about him; +and that these unprovoked strokes at my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> could not be +unfelt by him.——No:———as I said above, my +uncle <i>Toby</i> did feel them, and very sensibly too.</p> + +<p>Pray, Sir, what said he?—How did he behave?—O, +Sir!—it was great: For as soon as my father had done insulting his +<span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span>,———he +turned his head without the least emotion, from Dr. <i>Slop</i>, to whom +he was addressing his discourse, and looking up into my father’s face, +with a countenance spread over with so much good-nature;——so +placid;——so fraternal;——so inexpressibly tender +towards him:—it penetrated my father to his heart: He rose up +hastily from his chair, and seizing hold of both my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +hands as he spoke:—Brother <i>Toby</i>, said he,—I beg +thy pardon;——forgive, I pray thee, this rash humour +which my mother gave me.——My dear, dear brother, answered my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, rising up by my father’s help, say no more about +it;—you are heartily welcome, had it been ten times as much, +brother. But ’tis ungenerous, replied my father, to hurt any +man;——a brother worse;——but to hurt a +brother of such gentle manners,—so unprovoking,—and so +unresenting;——’tis base:——By Heaven, ’tis +cowardly.—You are heartily welcome, brother, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,———had it been fifty times as +much.——Besides, what have I to do, my dear <i>Toby</i>, +cried my father, either with your amusements or your pleasures, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page84" id = "page84">84</a></span> +unless it was in my power (which it is not) to increase their +measure?</p> + +<p>——Brother <i>Shandy</i>, answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +looking wistfully in his face,——you are much mistaken in +this point:—for you do increase my pleasure very much, in +begetting children for the <i>Shandy</i> family at your time of +life.—But, by that, Sir, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, Mr. <i>Shandy</i> +increases his own.—Not a jot, quoth my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXIII" id = "bookII_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> brother does it, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, out of <i>principle</i>.——In a family way, +I suppose, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>.——Pshaw!—said my +father,—’tis not worth talking of.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXIV" id = "bookII_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">At</span> the end of the last chapter, my +father and my uncle <i>Toby</i> were left both standing, like +<i>Brutus</i> and <i>Cassius</i>, at the close of the scene, making up +their accounts.</p> + +<p>As my father spoke the three last words,——he sat +down;—my uncle <i>Toby</i> exactly followed his example, only, +that before he took his chair, he rung the bell, to order Corporal +<i>Trim</i>, who was in waiting, to step home for +<i>Stevinus</i>:—my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house being no farther off +than the opposite side of the way.</p> + +<p>Some men would have dropped the subject of +<i>Stevinus</i>;——but my uncle <i>Toby</i> had no resentment +in his heart, and he went on with the subject, to shew my father that he +had none.</p> + +<p>Your sudden appearance, Dr. <i>Slop</i>, quoth my uncle, resuming the +discourse, instantly brought <i>Stevinus</i> into my head. +(My father, you may be sure, did not offer to lay any more wagers +upon <i>Stevinus’s</i> head.)——Because, continued my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, the celebrated sailing chariot, which belonged to Prince +<i>Maurice</i>, and was of such wonderful contrivance and velocity, as +to carry half a dozen people thirty <i>German</i> miles, in I don’t know +how few minutes,——was invented by <i>Stevinus</i>, that +great mathematician and engineer.</p> + +<p>You might have spared your servant the trouble, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i> +(as the fellow is lame) of going for <i>Stevinus’s</i> account of +it, because in my return from <i>Leyden</i> thro’ the <i>Hague</i>, +I walked as far as <i>Schevling</i>, which is two long miles, on +purpose to take a view of it.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page85" id = "page85">85</a></span> +<p>That’s nothing, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to what the learned +<i>Peireskius</i> did, who walked a matter of five hundred miles, +reckoning from <i>Paris</i> to <i>Schevling</i>, and from +<i>Schevling</i> to <i>Paris</i> back again, in order to see +it,—and nothing else.</p> + +<p>Some men cannot bear to be out-gone.</p> + +<p>The more fool <i>Peireskius</i>, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>. But mark, +’twas out of no contempt of <i>Peireskius</i> at all;——but +that <i>Peireskius’s</i> indefatigable labour in trudging so far on +foot, out of love for the sciences, reduced the exploit of Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, in that affair, to nothing:—the more fool +<i>Peireskius</i>, said he again.—Why so?—replied my father, +taking his brother’s part, not only to make reparation as fast as he +could for the insult he had given him, which sat still upon my father’s +mind;——but partly, that my father began really to interest +himself in the discourse.——Why so?——said he. Why +is <i>Peireskius</i>, or any man else, to be abused for an appetite for +that, or any other morsel of sound knowledge: For notwithstanding I know +nothing of the chariot in question, continued he, the inventor of it +must have had a very mechanical head; and tho’ I cannot guess upon +what principles of philosophy he has atchieved it;—yet certainly +his machine has been constructed upon solid ones, be they what they +will, or it could not have answered at the rate my brother mentions.</p> + +<p>It answered, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, as well, if not better; +for, as <i>Peireskius</i> elegantly expresses it, speaking of the +velocity of its motion, <i>Tam citus erat, quam erat ventus</i>; which, +unless I have forgot my Latin, is, <i>that it was as swift as the wind +itself</i>.</p> + +<p>But pray, Dr. <i>Slop</i>, quoth my father, interrupting my uncle +(tho’ not without begging pardon for it at the same time) upon what +principles was this self-same chariot set a-going?—Upon very +pretty principles to be sure, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>:—And I have +often wondered, continued he, evading the question, why none of our +gentry, who live upon large plains like this of ours,—(especially +they whose wives are not past child-bearing) attempt nothing of this +kind; for it would not only be infinitely expeditious upon sudden calls, +to which the sex is subject,—if the wind only served,—but +would be excellent good husbandry to make use of the winds, which cost +nothing, and which eat nothing, rather than horses, which (the devil +take ’em) both cost and eat a great deal.</p> + +<p>For that very reason, replied my father, “Because they cost nothing, +and because they eat nothing,”—the scheme is bad;—it is the +consumption of our products, as well as the manufactures +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page86" id = "page86">86</a></span> +of them, which gives bread to the hungry, circulates trade,—brings +in money, and supports the value of our lands:—and tho’, +I own, if I was a Prince, I would generously recompense the +scientifick head which brought forth such contrivances;—yet I +would as peremptorily suppress the use of them.</p> + +<p>My father here had got into his element,——and was going +on as prosperously with his dissertation upon trade, as my uncle +<i>Toby</i> had before, upon his of fortification;—but to the loss +of much sound knowledge, the destinies in the morning had decreed that +no dissertation of any kind should be spun by my father that +day,——for as he opened his mouth to begin the next +sentence.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXV" id = "bookII_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> popped Corporal <i>Trim</i> with +<i>Stevinus</i>:—But ’twas too late,—all the discourse had +been exhausted without him, and was running into a new +channel.—You may take the book home again, <i>Trim</i>, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, nodding to him.</p> + +<p>But prithee, Corporal, quoth my father, drolling,—look first +into it, and see if thou canst spy aught of a sailing chariot +in it.</p> + +<p>Corporal <i>Trim</i>, by being in the service, had learned to +obey,—and not to remonstrate;—so taking the book to a +side-table, and running over the leaves; An’ please your Honour, said +<i>Trim</i>, I can see no such thing;—however, continued the +Corporal, drolling a little in his turn, I’ll make sure work of it, an’ +please your Honour;—so taking hold of the two covers of the book, +one in each hand, and letting the leaves fall down, as he bent the +covers back, he gave the book a good sound shake.</p> + +<p>There is something falling out, however, said <i>Trim</i>, an’ please +your Honour;—but it is not a chariot, or anything like +one:—Prithee, Corporal, said my father, smiling, what is it +then?—I think, answered <i>Trim</i>, stooping to take it +up,——’tis more like a sermon,———for it +begins with a text of scripture, and the chapter and verse;—and +then goes on, not as a chariot, but like a sermon directly.</p> + +<p>The company smiled.</p> + +<p>I cannot conceive how it is possible, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, for +such a thing as a sermon to have got into my <i>Stevinus</i>.</p> + +<p>I think ’tis a sermon, replied <i>Trim</i>;—but if it please +your Honours, as it is a fair hand, I will read you a +page;—for <i>Trim</i>, you must know, loved to hear himself read +almost as well as talk.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page87" id = "page87">87</a></span> +<p>I have ever a strong propensity, said my father, to look into things +which cross my way, by such strange fatalities as these;—and as we +have nothing better to do, at least till <i>Obadiah</i> gets back, +I shall be obliged to you, brother, if Dr. <i>Slop</i> has no +objection to it, to order the Corporal to give us a page or two of +it,—if he is as able to do it, as he seems willing. An’ please +your Honour, quoth <i>Trim</i>, I officiated two whole campaigns, +in <i>Flanders</i>, as clerk to the chaplain of the +regiment.——He can read it, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, as +well as I can.——<i>Trim</i>, I assure you, was the best +scholar in my company, and should have had the next halberd, but for the +poor fellow’s misfortune. Corporal <i>Trim</i> laid his hand upon his +heart, and made an humble bow to his master;—then laying down his +hat upon the floor, and taking up the sermon in his left hand, in order +to have his right at liberty,——he advanced, nothing +doubting, into the middle of the room, where he could best see, and be +best seen by his audience.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXVI" id = "bookII_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p>—If you have any objection,—said my father, addressing +himself to Dr. <i>Slop</i>. Not in the least, replied Dr. +<i>Slop</i>;—for it does not appear on which side of the question +it is wrote;——it may be a composition of a divine of our +church, as well as yours,—so that we run equal +risques.——’Tis wrote upon neither side, quoth <i>Trim</i>, +for ’tis only upon <i>Conscience</i>, an’ please your Honours.</p> + +<p><i>Trim’s</i> reason put his audience into good-humour,—all but +Dr. <i>Slop</i>, who turning his head about towards <i>Trim</i>, looked +a little angry.</p> + +<p>Begin, <i>Trim</i>,—and read distinctly, quoth my +father.—I will, an’ please your Honour, replied the Corporal, +making a bow, and bespeaking attention with a slight movement of his +right hand.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXVII" id = "bookII_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p>——But before the Corporal begins, I must first give you a +description of his attitude;——otherwise he will naturally +stand represented, by your imagination, in an uneasy +posture,—stiff,—perpendicular,—dividing the weight of +his body equally upon both legs;——his eye fixed, as if on +duty;—his look determined,—clenching the sermon in his left +hand, like his firelock.——In +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page88" id = "page88">88</a></span> +a word, you would be apt to paint <i>Trim</i>, as if he was standing in +his platoon ready for action.—His attitude was as unlike all this +as you can conceive.</p> + +<p>He stood before them with his body swayed, and bent forwards just so +far, as to make an angle of 85 degrees and a half upon the plain of the +horizon;—which sound orators, to whom I address this, know very +well to be the true persuasive angle of incidence;—in any other +angle you may talk and preach;—’tis certain;—and it is done +every day;—but with what effect,—I leave the world to +judge!</p> + +<p>The necessity of this precise angle, of 85 degrees and a half to a +mathematical exactness,——does it not shew us, by the way, +how the arts and sciences mutually befriend each other?</p> + +<p>How the duce Corporal <i>Trim</i>, who knew not so much as an acute +angle from an obtuse one, came to hit it so exactly;——or +whether it was chance or nature, or good sense or imitation, &c., +shall be commented upon in that part of the cyclopædia of arts and +sciences, where the instrumental parts of the eloquence of the senate, +the pulpit, and the bar, the coffee-house, the bed-chamber, and +fire-side, fall under consideration.</p> + +<p>He stood,——for I repeat it, to take the picture of him in +at one view, with his body swayed, and somewhat bent forwards,—his +right leg from under him, sustaining seven-eighths of his whole +weight,———the foot of his left leg, the defect of +which was no disadvantage to his attitude, advanced a little,—not +laterally, nor forwards, but in a line betwixt them;—his knee +bent, but that not violently,—but so as to fall within the limits +of the line of beauty;—and I add, of the line of science +too;—for consider, it had one eighth part of his body to bear +up;—so that in this case the position of the leg is +determined,—because the foot could be no farther advanced, or the +knee more bent, than what would allow him, mechanically to receive an +eighth part of his whole weight under it, and to carry it too.</p> + +<p><img src = "images/finger.gif" width = "30" height = "13" alt = +"-->" /> This I recommend to painters:—need I add,—to +orators!—I think not; for unless they practise +it,———they must fall upon their noses.</p> + +<p>So much for Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> body and legs.——He +held the sermon loosely, not carelessly, in his left hand, raised +something above his stomach, and detached a little from his +breast;——his right arm falling negligently by his side, as +nature and the laws of gravity ordered it,——but with the +palm of it open and turned towards his audience, ready to aid the +sentiment in case it stood in need.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page89" id = "page89">89</a></span> +<p>Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> eyes and the muscles of his face were in full +harmony with the other parts of him;—he looked +frank,—unconstrained,—something assured,—but not +bordering upon assurance.</p> + +<p>Let not the critic ask how Corporal <i>Trim</i> could come by all +this.——I’ve told him it should be explained;—but so he +stood before my father, my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and Dr. +<i>Slop</i>,—so swayed his body, so contrasted his limbs, and with +such an oratorical sweep throughout the whole +figure,——a statuary might have modelled from +it;——nay, I doubt whether the oldest Fellow of a +College,—or the <i>Hebrew</i> Professor himself, could have much +mended it.</p> + +<p><i>Trim</i> made a bow, and read as follows:</p> + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_sermon" id = "bookII_sermon"> +<span class = "smallcaps">The SERMON</span></a><br /> +<span class = "smallcaps">Hebrews</span> xiii. 18</h4> + +<h5 class = "ital"> +——For we <em>trust</em> we have a good Conscience</h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">“Trust!</span>——Trust we have a +good conscience!”</p> + +<p>[Certainly, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my father, interrupting him, you give +that sentence a very improper accent; for you curl up your nose, man, +and read it with such a sneering tone, as if the Parson was going to +abuse the Apostle.</p> + +<p>He is, an’ please your Honour, replied <i>Trim</i>. Pugh! said my +father, smiling.</p> + +<p>Sir, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, <i>Trim</i> is certainly in the right; +for the writer (who I perceive is a Protestant) by the snappish manner +in which he takes up the apostle, is certainly going to abuse +him;—if this treatment of him has not done it already. But from +whence, replied my father, have you concluded so soon, Dr. <i>Slop</i>, +that the writer is of our church?—for aught I can see +yet,—he may be of any church.——Because, answered Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, if he was of ours,—he durst no more take such a +licence,—than a bear by his beard:—If, in our communion, +Sir, a man was to insult an +apostle,——a saint,——or even the paring of a +saint’s nail,—he would have his eyes scratched out.—What, by +the saint? quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>. No, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>, he +would have an old house over his head. Pray is the Inquisition an +ancient building, answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>, or is it a modern +one?—I know nothing of architecture, replied Dr. +<i>Slop</i>.—An’ please your Honours, quoth <i>Trim</i>, the +Inquisition is the vilest——Prithee spare thy description, +<i>Trim</i>, I hate the very name of it, said my +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page90" id = "page90">90</a></span> +father.—No matter for that, answered Dr. <i>Slop</i>,—it has +its uses; for tho’ I’m no great advocate for it, yet, in such a case as +this, he would soon be taught better manners; and I can tell him, if he +went on at that rate, would be flung into the Inquisition for his pains. +God help him then, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>. Amen, added <i>Trim</i>; +for Heaven above knows, I have a poor brother who has been fourteen +years a captive in it.—I never heard one word of it before, +said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, hastily:—How came he there, +<i>Trim?</i>——O, Sir! the story will make your heart +bleed,—as it has made mine a thousand times;—but it is too +long to be told now;—your Honour shall hear it from first to last +some day when I am working beside you in our fortifications;—but +the short of the story is this;—That my brother <i>Tom</i> went +over a servant to <i>Lisbon</i>,—and then married a Jew’s widow, +who kept a small shop, and sold sausages, which somehow or other, was +the cause of his being taken in the middle of the night out of his bed, +where he was lying with his wife and two small children, and carried +directly to the Inquisition, where, God help him, continued <i>Trim</i>, +fetching a sigh from the bottom of his heart,—the poor honest lad +lies confined at this hour; he was as honest a soul, added <i>Trim</i>, +(pulling out his handkerchief) as ever blood <span class = +"locked">warmed.——</span></p> + +<p>—The tears trickled down <i>Trim’s</i> cheeks faster than he +could well wipe them away.—And dead silence in the room ensued for +some minutes.—Certain proof of pity!</p> + +<p>Come, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my father, after he saw the poor fellow’s +grief had got a little vent,—read on,—and put this +melancholy story out of thy head:—I grieve that I interrupted +thee; but prithee begin the sermon again;—for if the first +sentence in it is matter of abuse, as thou sayest, I have a great +desire to know what kind of provocation the apostle has given.</p> + +<p>Corporal <i>Trim</i> wiped his face, and returned his handkerchief +into his pocket, and, making a bow as he did it,—he began +again.]</p> + + +<h4><span class = "smallcaps">The SERMON<br /> +Hebrews</span> xiii. 18</h4> + +<h5 class = "ital"> +——For we <em>trust</em> we have a good Conscience</h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">“Trust!</span> trust we have a good +conscience! Surely if there is any thing in this life which a man may +depend upon, and to the knowledge of which he is capable of arriving +upon the most +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page91" id = "page91">91</a></span> +indisputable evidence, it must be this very thing,—whether he has +a good conscience or no.”</p> + +<p>[I am positive I am right, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>.]</p> + +<p>“If a man thinks at all, he cannot well be a stranger to the true +state of this account;——he must be privy to his own thoughts +and desires;—he must remember his past pursuits, and know +certainly the true springs and motives, which, in general, have governed +the actions of his life.”</p> + +<p>[I defy him, without an assistant, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>.]</p> + +<p>“In other matters we may be deceived by false appearances; and, as +the wise man complains, <i>hardly do we guess aright at the things that +are upon the earth, and with labour do we find the things that are +before us</i>. But here the mind has all the evidence and facts within +herself;——is conscious of the web she has +wove;——knows its texture and fineness, and the exact share +which every passion has had in working upon the several designs which +virtue or vice has planned before her.”</p> + +<p>[The language is good, and I declare <i>Trim</i> reads very well, +quoth my father.]</p> + +<p>“Now,—as conscience is nothing else but the knowledge which the +mind has within herself of this; and the judgment, either of approbation +or censure, which it unavoidably makes upon the successive actions of +our lives; ’tis plain you will say, from the very terms of the +proposition,—whenever this inward testimony goes against a man, +and he stands self-accused, that he must necessarily be a guilty +man.—And, on the contrary, when the report is favourable on his +side, and his heart condemns him not:—that it is not a matter of +<i>trust</i>, as the apostle intimates, but a matter of <i>certainty</i> +and fact, that the conscience is good, and that the man must be good +also.”</p> + +<p>[Then the apostle is altogether in the wrong, I suppose, quoth Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, and the Protestant divine is in the right. Sir, have +patience, replied my father, for I think it will presently appear that +St. <i>Paul</i> and the Protestant divine are both of an +opinion.—As nearly so, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, as east is to +west;—but this, continued he, lifting both hands, comes from the +liberty of the press.</p> + +<p>It is no more, at the worst, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, than the +liberty of the pulpit; for it does not appear that the sermon is +printed, or ever likely to be.</p> + +<p>Go on, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my father.]</p> + +<p>“At first sight this may seem to be a true state of the case: and I +make no doubt but the knowledge of right and wrong is so truly impressed +upon the mind of man,—that did no such thing +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page92" id = "page92">92</a></span> +ever happen, as that the conscience of a man, by long habits of sin, +might (as the scripture assures it may) insensibly become +hard;—and, like some tender parts of his body, by much stress and +continual hard usage, lose by degrees that nice sense and perception +with which God and nature endowed it:—Did this never +happen;—or was it certain that self-love could never hang the +least bias upon the judgment;—or that the little interests below +could rise up and perplex the faculties of our upper regions, and +encompass them about with clouds and thick darkness:——Could +no such thing as favour and affection enter this sacred Court:—Did +<span class = "smallcaps">Wit</span> disdain to take a bribe in +it;—or was ashamed to shew its face as an advocate for an +unwarrantable enjoyment: Or, lastly, were we assured that <span class = +"smallcaps">Interest</span> stood always unconcerned whilst the cause +was hearing—and that Passion never got into the judgment-seat, and +pronounced sentence in the stead of Reason, which is supposed always to +preside and determine upon the case:—Was this truly so, as the +objection must suppose;—no doubt then the religious and moral +state of a man would be exactly what he himself esteemed it:—and +the guilt or innocence of every man’s life could be known, in general, +by no better measure, than the degrees of his own approbation and +censure.</p> + +<p>“I own, in one case, whenever a man’s conscience does accuse him +(as it seldom errs on that side) that he is guilty; and unless in +melancholy and hypocondriac cases, we may safely pronounce upon it, that +there is always sufficient grounds for the accusation.</p> + +<p>“But the converse of the proposition will not hold +true;—namely, that whenever there is guilt, the conscience must +accuse; and if it does not, that a man is therefore +innocent.——This is not fact———So that the +common consolation which some good christian or other is hourly +administering to himself,—that he thanks God his mind does not +misgive him; and that, consequently, he has a good conscience, because +he hath a quiet one,—is fallacious;—and as current as the +inference is, and as infallible as the rule appears at first sight, yet +when you look nearer to it, and try the truth of this rule upon plain +facts,——you see it liable to so much error from a false +application;——the principle upon which it goes so often +perverted;——the whole force of it lost, and sometimes so +vilely cast away, that it is painful to produce the common examples from +human life, which confirm the account.</p> + +<p>“A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his +principles;—exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page93" id = "page93">93</a></span> +live shameless, in the open commission of a sin which no reason or +pretence can justify,——a sin by which, contrary to all +the workings of humanity, he shall ruin for ever the deluded partner of +his guilt;—rob her of her best dowry; and not only cover her own +head with dishonour;—but involve a whole virtuous family in shame +and sorrow for her sake. Surely, you will think conscience must lead +such a man a troublesome life; he can have no rest night or day from its +reproaches.</p> + +<p>“Alas! <span class = "smallcaps">Conscience</span> had something else +to do all this time, than break in upon him; as <i>Elijah</i> reproached +the god <i>Baal</i>,——this domestic god <i>was either +talking, or pursuing, or was in a journey, or peradventure he slept and +could not be awoke</i>.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps <span class = "smallcaps">He</span> was gone out in company +with <span class = "smallcaps">Honour</span> to fight a duel: to pay off +some debt at play;——or dirty annuity, the bargain of his +lust; Perhaps <span class = "smallcaps">Conscience</span> all this time +was engaged at home, talking aloud against petty larceny, and executing +vengeance upon some such puny crimes as his fortune and rank of life +secured him against all temptation of committing; so that he lives as +merrily”——[If he was of our church, tho’, quoth Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, he could not]—“sleeps as soundly in his +bed;—and at last meets death as unconcernedly;—perhaps much +more so, than a much better man.”</p> + +<p>[All this is impossible with us, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, turning to my +father,—the case could not happen in our church.—It happens +in ours, however, replied my father, but too +often.——I own, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, (struck a little +with my father’s frank acknowledgment)—that a man in the +<i>Romish</i> church may live as badly;—but then he cannot easily +die so.——’Tis little matter, replied my father, with an air +of indifference,—how a rascal dies.—I mean, answered +Dr. <i>Slop</i>, he would be denied the benefits of the last +sacraments.—Pray how many have you in all, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,——for I always forget?——Seven, +answered Dr. <i>Slop</i>.——Humph!—said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; tho’ not accented as a note of acquiescence,—but as +an interjection of that particular species of surprize, when a man in +looking into a drawer, finds more of a thing than he +expected.——Humph! replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>. Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, who had an ear, understood my uncle <i>Toby</i> as well as +if he had wrote a whole volume against the seven +sacraments.——Humph! replied Dr. <i>Slop</i> (stating my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> argument over again to him)——Why, Sir, +are there not seven cardinal virtues?——Seven mortal +sins?——Seven golden candlesticks?——Seven +heavens?—’Tis more than I know, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.———Are there not seven wonders of the +world?——Seven +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page94" id = "page94">94</a></span> +days of the creation?——Seven planets?——Seven +plagues?——That there are, quoth my father with a most +affected gravity. But prithee, continued he, go on with the rest of thy +characters, <i>Trim</i>.]</p> + +<p>“Another is sordid, unmerciful,” (here <i>Trim</i> waved his right +hand) “a strait-hearted, selfish wretch, incapable either of +private friendship or public spirit. Take notice how he passes by the +widow and orphan in their distress, and sees all the miseries incident +to human life without a sigh or a prayer.” [An’ please your honours, +cried <i>Trim</i>, I think this a viler man than the other.]</p> + +<p>“Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such +occasions?——No; thank God there is no occasion, +<i>I pay every man his own;—I have no fornication to +answer to my conscience;—no faithless vows or promises to make +up;—I have debauched no man’s wife or child; thank God, +I am not as other men, adulterers, unjust, or even as this +libertine, who stands before me.</i></p> + +<p>“A third is crafty and designing in his nature. View his whole +life;—’tis nothing but a cunning contexture of dark arts and +unequitable subterfuges, basely to defeat the true intent of all +laws,——plain-dealing and the safe enjoyment of our several +properties.——You will see such a one working out a frame of +little designs upon the ignorance and perplexities of the poor and needy +man;—shall raise a fortune upon the inexperience of a youth, or +the unsuspecting temper of his friend, who would have trusted him with +his life.</p> + +<p>“When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look back upon +this black account, and state it over again with his +conscience—<span class = "smallcaps">Conscience</span> looks into +the <span class = "smallcaps">Statutes at Large</span>;—finds no +express law broken by what he has done;—perceives no penalty or +forfeiture of goods and chattels incurred;—sees no scourge waving +over his head, or prison opening his gates upon him:—What is there +to affright his conscience?—Conscience has got safely entrenched +behind the Letter of the Law; sits there invulnerable, fortified with +<span class = "blackletter">Cases</span> and <span class = +"blackletter">Reports</span> so strongly on all sides;—that it is +not preaching can dispossess it of its hold.”</p> + +<p>[Here Corporal <i>Trim</i> and my uncle <i>Toby</i> exchanged looks +with each other.—Aye, aye, <i>Trim!</i> quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, shaking his head,———these are but sorry +fortifications, <i>Trim</i>.———O! very poor work, +answered <i>Trim</i>, to what your Honour and I make of +it.——The character of this last man, said Dr. <i>Slop</i>, +interrupting <i>Trim</i>, is more detestable than all the rest; and +seems to have been taken from some pettifogging Lawyer +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page95" id = "page95">95</a></span> +amongst you:—Amongst us, a man’s conscience could not +possibly continue so long <i>blinded</i>,——three times in a +year, at least, he must go to confession. Will that restore it to sight? +quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——Go on, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my +father, or <i>Obadiah</i> will have got back before thou hast got to the +end of thy sermon.——’Tis a very short one, replied +<i>Trim</i>.——I wish it was longer, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, for I like it hugely.—<i>Trim</i> went on.]</p> + +<p>“A fourth man shall want even this refuge;—shall break through +all their ceremony of slow chicane;——scorns the doubtful +workings of secret plots and cautious trains to bring about his +purpose:——See the bare-faced villain, how he cheats, lies, +perjures, robs, murders!—Horrid!—But indeed much better was +not to be expected, in the present case—the poor man was in the +dark!———his priest had got the keeping of his +conscience;——and all he would let him know of it, was, That +he must believe in the Pope;—go to Mass;—cross +himself;—tell his beads;—be a good Catholic, and that this, +in all conscience, was enough to carry him to heaven. What;—if he +perjures!—Why;—he had a mental reservation in it.—But +if he is so wicked and abandoned a wretch as you represent him;—if +he robs,—if he stabs, will not conscience, on every such act, +receive a wound itself?—Aye,—but the man has carried it to +confession;——the wound digests there, and will do well +enough, and in a short time be quite healed up by absolution. +O Popery! what hast thou to answer for?——when, not +content with the too many natural and fatal ways, thro’ which the heart +of man is every day thus treacherous to itself above all +things;—thou hast wilfully set open the wide gate of deceit before +the face of this unwary traveller, too apt, God knows, to go astray of +himself; and confidently speak peace to himself, when there is no +peace.</p> + +<p>“Of this the common instances which I have drawn out of life, are too +notorious to require much evidence. If any man doubts the reality of +them, or thinks it impossible for a man to be such a bubble to +himself,—I must refer him a moment to his own reflections, +and will then venture to trust my appeal with his own heart.</p> + +<p>“Let him consider in how different a degree of detestation, numbers +of wicked actions stand <i>there</i>, tho’ equally bad and vicious in +their own natures;—he will soon find, that such of them as strong +inclination and custom have prompted him to commit, are generally +dressed out and painted with all the false beauties which a soft and a +flattering hand can give them;—and that the others, to which he +feels no propensity, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page96" id = "page96">96</a></span> +appear, at once, naked and deformed, surrounded with all the true +circumstances of folly and dishonour.</p> + +<p>“When <i>David</i> surprized <i>Saul</i> sleeping in the cave, and +cut off the skirt of his robe—we read his heart smote him for what +he had done:——But in the matter of <i>Uriah</i>, where a +faithful and gallant servant, whom he ought to have loved and honoured, +fell to make way for his lust,—where conscience had so much +greater reason to take the alarm, his heart smote him not. A whole +year had almost passed from the first commission of that crime, to the +time <i>Nathan</i> was sent to reprove him; and we read not once of the +least sorrow or compunction of heart which he testified, during all that +time, for what he had done.</p> + +<p>“Thus conscience, this once able monitor,——placed on high +as a judge within us, and intended by our Maker as a just and equitable +one too,—by an unhappy train of causes and impediments, takes +often such imperfect cognizance of what passes,——does its +office so negligently,——sometimes so corruptly—that it +is not to be trusted alone; and therefore we find there is a necessity, +an absolute necessity, of joining another principle with it, to aid, if +not govern, its determinations.</p> + +<p>“So that if you would form a just judgment of what is of infinite +importance to you not to be misled in,—namely, in what degree of +real merit you stand either as an honest man, an useful citizen, +a faithful subject to your king, or a good servant to your +God,——call in religion and morality.—Look, What is +written in the law of God?——How readest thou?—Consult +calm reason and the unchangeable obligations of justice and +truth;——what say they?</p> + +<p>“Let <span class = "smallcaps">Conscience</span> determine the matter +upon these reports;——and then if thy heart condemns thee +not, which is the case the apostle supposes,——the rule will +be infallible;”—[Here Dr. <i>Slop</i> fell asleep]—“<i>thou +wilt have confidence towards God</i>;——that is, have just +grounds to believe the judgment thou hast past upon thyself, is the +judgment of God; and nothing else but an anticipation of that righteous +sentence which will be pronounced upon thee hereafter by that Being, to +whom thou art finally to give an account of thy actions.</p> + +<p>“<i>Blessed is the man</i>, indeed, then, as the author of the book +of <i>Ecclesiasticus</i> expresses it, <i>who is not pricked with the +multitude of his sins: Blessed is the man whose heart hath not condemned +him; whether he be rich, or whether he be poor, if he have a good +heart</i> (a heart thus guided and informed) <i>he shall at all +times rejoice in a chearful countenance; his mind shall tell him more +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page97" id = "page97">97</a></span> +than seven watch-men that sit above upon a tower on high</i>.”—[A +tower has no strength, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, unless ’tis +flank’d.]—“In the darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than a +thousand casuists, and give the state he lives in, a better +security for his behaviour than all the causes and restrictions put +together which law-makers are forced to multiply:—<i>Forced</i>, +I say, as things stand; human laws not being a matter of original +choice, but of pure necessity, brought in to fence against the +mischievous effects of those consciences which are no law unto +themselves; well intending, by the many provisions made,—that in +all such corrupt and misguided cases, where principles and the checks of +conscience will not make us upright,—to supply their force, and, +by the terrors of gaols and halters, oblige us to it.”</p> + +<p>[I see plainly, said my father, that this sermon has been composed to +be preached at the Temple,——or at some +Assize.—I like the reasoning,—and am sorry that Dr. +<i>Slop</i> has fallen asleep before the time of his +conviction:—for it is now clear, that the Parson, as I thought at +first, never insulted St. <i>Paul</i> in the least;—nor has there +been, brother, the least difference between +them.——A great matter, if they had differed, replied my +uncle <i>Toby</i>,—the best friends in the world may differ +sometimes.——True,—brother <i>Toby</i>, quoth my +father, shaking hands with him,—we’ll fill our pipes, brother, and +then <i>Trim</i> shall go on.</p> + +<p>Well,——what dost thou think of it? said my father +speaking to Corporal <i>Trim</i>, as he reached his tobacco-box.</p> + +<p>I think, answered the Corporal, that the seven watch-men upon the +tower, who, I suppose, are all centinels there,—are more, an’ +please your Honour, than were necessary;—and, to go on at that +rate, would harrass a regiment all to pieces, which a commanding +officer, who loves his men, will never do, if he can help it, because +two centinels, added the Corporal, are as good as +twenty.—I have been a commanding officer myself in the +<i>Corps de Garde</i> a hundred times, continued <i>Trim</i>, rising an +inch higher in his figure, as he spoke,—and all the time I had the +honour to serve his Majesty King <i>William</i>, in relieving the most +considerable posts, I never left more than two in my +life.——Very right, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,—but you do not consider, <i>Trim</i>, that the +towers, in <i>Solomon’s</i> days, were not such things as our bastions, +flanked and defended by other works;—this, <i>Trim</i>, was an +invention since <i>Solomon’s</i> death; nor had they horn-works, or +ravelins before the curtin, in his time;——or such a fossé as +we make with a cuvette in the middle of it, and with covered ways and +counterscarps pallisadoed along it, to guard +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page98" id = "page98">98</a></span> +against a <i>Coup de main</i>:—So that the seven men upon the +tower were a party, I dare say, from the <i>Corps de Garde</i>, set +there, not only to look out, but to defend it.—They could be no +more, an’ please your Honour, than a Corporal’s Guard.—My father +smiled inwardly, but not outwardly;—the subject being rather too +serious, considering what had happened, to make a jest of.—So +putting his pipe into his mouth, which he had just lighted,—he +contented himself with ordering <i>Trim</i> to read on. He read on as +follows:]</p> + +<p>“To have the fear of God before our eyes, and, in our mutual dealings +with each other, to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right +and wrong:——The first of these will comprehend the duties of +religion;—the second, those of morality, which are so inseparably +connected together, that you cannot divide these two <i>tables</i>, even +in imagination (tho’ the attempt is often made in practice) without +breaking and mutually destroying them both.</p> + +<p>“I said the attempt is often made; and so it is;——there +being nothing more common than to see a man who has no sense at all of +religion, and indeed has so much honesty as to pretend to none, who +would take it as the bitterest affront, should you but hint at a +suspicion of his moral character,——or imagine he was not +conscientiously just and scrupulous to the uttermost mite.</p> + +<p>“When there is some appearance that it is so,—tho’ one is +unwilling even to suspect the appearance of so amiable a virtue as moral +honesty, yet were we to look into the grounds of it, in the present +case, I am persuaded we should find little reason to envy such a +one the honour of his motive.</p> + +<p>“Let him declaim as pompously as he chooses upon the subject, it will +be found to rest upon no better foundation than either his interest, his +pride, his ease, or some such little and changeable passion as will give +us but small dependence upon his actions in matters of great +distress.</p> + +<p>“I will illustrate this by an example.</p> + +<p>“I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call +in”—[There is no need, cried Dr. <i>Slop</i> (waking), to call in +any physician in this case]——“to be neither of them men of +much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day, and treat +all its sanctions with so much scorn, as to put the matter past doubt. +Well;—notwithstanding this, I put my fortune into the hands +of the one:—and what is dearer still to me, I trust my life +to the honest skill of the other.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page99" id = "page99">99</a></span> +<p>“Now let me examine what is my reason for this great confidence. Why, +in the first place, I believe there is no probability that either +of them will employ the power I put into their hands to my +disadvantage;—I consider that honesty serves the purposes of +this life:—I know their success in the world depends upon the +fairness of their characters.—In a word, I’m persuaded that they +cannot hurt me without hurting themselves more.</p> + +<p>“But put it otherwise, namely, that interest lay, for once, on the +other side; that a case should happen, wherein the one, without stain to +his reputation, could secrete my fortune, and leave me naked in the +world;—or that the other could send me out of it, and enjoy an +estate by my death, without dishonour to himself or his art:—In +this case, what hold have I of either of them?—Religion, the +strongest of all motives, is out of the question;—Interest, the +next most powerful motive in the world, is strongly against +me:———What have I left to cast into the opposite scale +to balance this temptation?———Alas! I have +nothing,——nothing but what is lighter than a +bubble———I must lie at the mercy of <span class = +"smallcaps">Honour</span>, or some such capricious +principle—Strait security for two of the most valuable +blessings!—my property and myself.</p> + +<p>“As, therefore, we can have no dependence upon morality without +religion;—so, on the other hand, there is nothing better to be +expected from religion without morality; nevertheless, ’tis no prodigy +to see a man whose real moral character stands very low, who yet +entertains the highest notion of himself in the light of a religious +man.</p> + +<p>“He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable,—but +even wanting in points of common honesty; yet inasmuch as he talks aloud +against the infidelity of the age,——is zealous for some +points of religion,——goes twice a day to +church,—attends the sacraments,—and amuses himself with a +few instrumental parts of religion,—shall cheat his conscience +into a judgment, that, for this, he is a religious man, and has +discharged truly his duty to God: And you will find such a man, through +force of this delusion, generally looks down with spiritual pride upon +every other man who has less affectation of piety,—though, +perhaps, ten times more real honesty than himself.</p> + +<p>“<i>This likewise is a sore evil under the sun</i>; and I believe, +there is no one mistaken principle, which, for its time, has wrought +more serious mischiefs.———For a general proof of +this,—examine the history of the <i>Romish</i> +church;”—[Well, what can you make of that? cried Dr. +<i>Slop</i>]—“see what scenes +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page100" id = "page100">100</a></span> +of cruelty, murder, rapine, bloodshed,”——[They may thank +their own obstinacy, cried Dr. <i>Slop</i>]——“have all been +sanctified by a religion not strictly governed by morality.</p> + +<p>“In how many kingdoms of the world”—[Here <i>Trim</i> kept +waving his right hand from the sermon to the extent of his arm, +returning it backwards and forwards to the conclusion of the +paragraph.]</p> + +<p>“In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading sword of this +misguided saint-errant, spared neither age nor merit, or sex, or +condition?—and, as he fought under the banners of a religion which +set him loose from justice and humanity, he shewed none; mercilessly +trampled upon both,—heard neither the cries of the unfortunate, +nor pitied their distresses.”</p> + +<p>[I have been in many a battle, an’ please your Honour, quoth +<i>Trim</i>, sighing, but never in so melancholy a one as +this,—I would not have drawn a tricker in it against these +poor souls,——to have been made a general +officer.——Why? what do you understand of the affair? said +Dr. <i>Slop</i>, looking towards <i>Trim</i>, with something more of +contempt than the Corporal’s honest heart deserved.——What do +you know, friend, about this battle you talk of?—I know, +replied <i>Trim</i>, that I never refused quarter in my life to any man +who cried out for it;——but to a woman or a child, continued +<i>Trim</i>, before I would level my musket at them, I would lose +my life a thousand times.——Here’s a crown for thee, +<i>Trim</i>, to drink with <i>Obadiah</i> to-night, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, and I’ll give <i>Obadiah</i> another too.—God bless +your Honour, replied <i>Trim</i>,——I had rather these +poor women and children had it.——Thou art an honest fellow, +quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——My father nodded his head, as +much as to say,—and so he <span class = +"locked">is.——</span></p> + +<p>But prithee, <i>Trim</i>, said my father, make an end,—for I +see thou hast but a leaf or two left.</p> + +<p>Corporal <i>Trim</i> read on.]</p> + +<p>“If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not +sufficient,—consider at this instant, how the votaries of that +religion are every day thinking to do service and honour to God, by +actions which are a dishonour and scandal to themselves.</p> + +<p>“To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of +the Inquisition.”—[God help my poor brother +<i>Tom</i>.]—“Behold <i>Religion</i>, with <i>Mercy</i> and +<i>Justice</i> chained down under her feet,——there sitting +ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page101" id = "page101">101</a></span> +up with racks and instruments of torment. Hark!—hark! what a +piteous groan!”—[Here <i>Trim’s</i> face turned as pale as +ashes.]——“See the melancholy wretch who uttered +it”—[Here the tears began to trickle down.]——“just +brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the +utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty has been able to +invent.”—[D—n them all, quoth <i>Trim</i>, his colour +returning into his face as red as blood.]—“Behold this helpless +victim delivered up to his tormentors,—his body so wasted with +sorrow and confinement.”——[Oh! ’tis my brother, cried poor +<i>Trim</i> in a most passionate exclamation, dropping the sermon upon +the ground, and clapping his hands together—I fear ’tis poor +<i>Tom</i>. My father’s and my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> heart yearned with +sympathy for the poor fellow’s distress; even <i>Slop</i> himself +acknowledged pity for him.——Why, <i>Trim</i>, said my +father, this is not a history,——’tis a sermon thou art +reading; prithee begin the sentence again.]——“Behold this +helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors,—his body so wasted +with sorrow and confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it +suffers.</p> + +<p>“Observe the last movement of that horrid engine!”—[I would +rather face a cannon, quoth <i>Trim</i>, stamping.]—“See what +convulsions it has thrown him into!——Consider the nature of +the posture in which he now lies stretched,—what exquisite +tortures he endures by it!”—[I hope ’tis not in +<i>Portugal</i>.]—“’Tis all nature can bear! Good God! see how it +keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips!” [I would not +read another line of it, quoth <i>Trim</i>, for all this +<i>world</i>;—I fear, an’ please your Honours, all this is in +<i>Portugal</i>, where my poor brother <i>Tom</i> is. I tell thee, +<i>Trim</i>, again, quoth my father, ’tis not an historical +account,—’tis a description.—’Tis only a description, honest +man, quoth <i>Slop</i>, there’s not a word of truth in +it.——That’s another story, replied my father.—However, +as <i>Trim</i> reads it with so much concern,—’tis cruelty to +force him to go on with it.—Give me hold of the sermon, +<i>Trim</i>,—I’ll finish it for thee, and thou may’st go. +I must stay and hear it, too, replied <i>Trim</i>, if your Honour +will allow me;—tho’ I would not read it myself for a +Colonel’s pay.———Poor <i>Trim!</i> quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>. My father went <span class = +"locked">on.]—</span></p> + +<p>“——Consider the nature of the posture in which he now +lies stretched,—what exquisite torture he endures by +it!—’Tis all nature can bear! Good God! See how it keeps his weary +soul hanging upon his trembling lips,—willing to take its +leave,——but not suffered to depart!—Behold the unhappy +wretch +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page102" id = "page102">102</a></span> +led back to his cell!”——[Then, thank God, however, quoth +<i>Trim</i>, they have not killed him.]—“See him dragged out of it +again to meet the flames, and the insults in his last agonies, which +this principle,—this principle, that there can be religion without +mercy, has prepared for him.”——[Then, thank +God,——he is dead, quoth <i>Trim</i>,—he is out of his +pain,—and they have done their worst at him.—O +Sirs!—Hold your peace, <i>Trim</i>, said my father, going on with +the sermon, lest <i>Trim</i> should incense Dr. <i>Slop</i>,—we +shall never have done at this rate.]</p> + +<p>“The surest way to try the merit of any disputed notion is, to trace +down the consequences such a notion has produced, and compare them with +the spirit of Christianity;——’tis the short and decisive +rule which our Saviour hath left us, for these and such like cases, and +it is worth a thousand arguments——<i>By their fruits ye +shall know them.</i></p> + +<p>“I will add no farther to the length of this sermon, than by two or +three short and independent rules deducible from it.</p> + +<p>“<i>First</i>, Whenever a man talks loudly against religion, always +suspect that it is not his reason, but his passions, which have got the +better of his <span class = "smallcaps">Creed</span>. A bad life +and a good belief are disagreeable and troublesome neighbours, and where +they separate, depend upon it, ’tis for no other cause but quietness’ +sake.</p> + +<p>“<i>Secondly</i>, When a man, thus represented, tells you in any +particular instance,——That such a thing goes against his +conscience,——always believe he means exactly the same thing, +as when he tells you such a thing goes <i>against</i> his +stomach;—a present want of appetite being generally the true +cause of both.</p> + +<p>“In a word,—trust that man in nothing, who has not a <span +class = "smallcaps">Conscience</span> in everything.</p> + +<p>“And, in your own case, remember this plain distinction, a mistake in +which has ruined thousands,—that your conscience is not a +law:—No, God and reason made the law, and have placed conscience +within you to determine;——not, like an <i>Asiatic</i> Cadi, +according to the ebbs and flows of his own passions,—but like a +<i>British</i> judge in this land of liberty and good sense, who makes +no new law, but faithfully declares that law which he knows already +written.”</p> + +<h5 class = "final ital">FINIS</h5> + + +<p>Thou hast read the sermon extremely well, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my +father.—If he had spared his comments, replied Dr. +<i>Slop</i>,——he +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page103" id = "page103">103</a></span> +would have read it much better. I should have read it ten times +better, Sir, answered <i>Trim</i>, but that my heart was so +full.—That was the very reason, <i>Trim</i>, replied my father, +which has made thee read the sermon as well as thou hast done; and if +the clergy of our church, continued my father, addressing himself to Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, would take part in what they deliver as deeply as this poor +fellow has done,—as their compositions are fine;—[I deny it, +quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>]—I maintain it,—that the +eloquence of our pulpits, with such subjects to enflame it, would be a +model for the whole world:——But alas! continued my father, +and I own it, Sir, with sorrow, that, like <i>French</i> politicians in +this respect, what they gain in the cabinet they lose in the +field.——’Twere a pity, quoth my uncle, that this should be +lost. I like the sermon well, replied my father,——’tis +dramatick,—and there is something in that way of writing, when +skilfully managed, which catches the attention.——We preach +much in that way with us, said Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—I know that +very well, said my father,——but in a tone and manner which +disgusted Dr. <i>Slop</i>, full as much as his assent, simply, could +have pleased him.——But in this, added Dr. <i>Slop</i>, +a little piqued,—our sermons have greatly the advantage, that +we never introduce any character into them below a patriarch or a +patriarch’s wife, or a martyr or a saint.—There are some very bad +characters in this, however, said my father, and I do not think the +sermon a jot the worse for ’em.——But pray, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,—who’s can this be?—How could it get into my +<i>Stevinus?</i> A man must be as great a conjurer as +<i>Stevinus</i>, said my father, to resolve the second +question:—The first, I think, is not so difficult;—for +unless my judgment greatly deceives me,——I know the +author, for ’tis wrote, certainly, by the parson of the parish.</p> + +<p>The similitude of the stile and manner of it, with those my father +constantly had heard preached in his parish-church, was the ground of +his conjecture,—proving it as strongly, as an argument <i>à +priori</i> could prove such a thing to a philosophic mind, That it was +<i>Yorick’s</i> and no one’s else:—It was proved to be so, +<i>à posteriori</i>, the day after, when <i>Yorick</i> sent a +servant to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house to enquire after it.</p> + +<p>It seems that <i>Yorick</i>, who was inquisitive after all kinds of +knowledge, had borrowed <i>Stevinus</i> of my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and had +carelessly popped his sermon, as soon as he had made it, into the middle +of <i>Stevinus</i>; and by an act of forgetfulness, to which he was ever +subject, he had sent <i>Stevinus</i> home, and his sermon to keep him +company.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page104" id = "page104">104</a></span> +<p>Ill-fated sermon! Thou wast lost, after this recovery of thee, +a second time, dropped thro’ an unsuspected fissure in thy master’s +pocket, down into a treacherous and a tattered lining,—trod deep +into the dirt by the left hind-foot of his Rosinante inhumanly stepping +upon thee as thou falledst;—buried ten days in the +mire,——raised up out of it by a beggar,—sold for a +halfpenny to a parish-clerk,——transferred to his +parson,——lost for ever to thy own, the remainder of his +days,——nor restored to his restless <span class = +"smallcaps">Manes</span> till this very moment, that I tell the world +the story.</p> + +<p>Can the reader believe, that this sermon of <i>Yorick’s</i> was +preached at an assize, in the cathedral of <i>York</i>, before a +thousand witnesses, ready to give oath of it, by a certain prebendary of +that church, and actually printed by him when he had +done,——and within so short a space as two years and three +months after <i>Yorick’s</i> death?—<i>Yorick</i> indeed, was +never better served in his life;———but it was a little +hard to maltreat him after, and plunder him after he was laid in his +grave.</p> + +<p>However, as the gentleman who did it was in perfect charity with +<i>Yorick</i>,—and, in conscious justice, printed but a few copies +to give away;—and that I am told he could moreover have made as +good a one himself, had he thought fit,—I declare I would not +have published this anecdote to the world;——nor do I publish +it with an intent to hurt his character and advancement in the +church;——I leave that to others;—but I find +myself impelled by two reasons, which I cannot withstand.</p> + +<p>The first is, That in doing justice, I may give rest to +<i>Yorick’s</i> ghost;——which—as the country-people, +and some others, believe,——<i>still walks</i>.</p> + +<p>The second reason is, That, by laying open this story to the world, +I gain an opportunity of informing it,—That in case the +character of parson <i>Yorick</i>, and this sample of his sermons, is +liked,——there are now in the possession of the <i>Shandy</i> +family, as many as will make a handsome volume, at the world’s +service,——and much good may they do it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXVIII" id = "bookII_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Obadiah</span> gained the two crowns +without dispute; for he came in jingling, with all the instruments in +the green bays bag we spoke of, slung across his body, just as Corporal +<i>Trim</i> went out of the room.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page105" id = "page105">105</a></span> +<p>It is now proper, I think, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i> (clearing up his +looks), as we are in a condition to be of some service to Mrs. +<i>Shandy</i>, to send upstairs to know how she goes on.</p> + +<p>I have ordered, answered my father, the old midwife to come down to +us upon the least difficulty;—for you must know, Dr. <i>Slop</i>, +continued my father, with a perplexed kind of a smile upon his +countenance, that by express treaty, solemnly ratified between me and my +wife, you are no more than an auxiliary in this affair,—and not so +much as that,—unless the lean old mother of a midwife above stairs +cannot do without you.—Women have their particular fancies, and in +points of this nature, continued my father, where they bear the whole +burden, and suffer so much acute pain for the advantage of our families, +and the good of the species,—they claim a right of deciding, <i>en +Souveraines</i>, in whose hands, and in what fashion, they choose to +undergo it.</p> + +<p>They are in the right of it,——quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>. +But, Sir, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>, not taking notice of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> opinion, but turning to my father,—they had better +govern in other points;——and a father of a family, who +wishes its perpetuity, in my opinion, had better exchange this +prerogative with them, and give up some other rights in lieu of +it.——I know not, quoth my father, answering a little +too testily, to be quite dispassionate in what he +said,—I know not, quoth he, what we have left to give up, in +lieu of who shall bring our children into the world, unless +that,—of who shall beget them.———One would +almost give up anything, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—I beg your +pardon,——answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—Sir, replied +Dr. <i>Slop</i>, it would astonish you to know what improvements we have +made of late years in all branches of obstetrical knowledge, but +particularly in that one single point of the safe and expeditious +extraction of the <i>fœtus</i>,——which has received such +lights, that, for my part (holding up his hands) I declare I wonder +how the world has——I wish, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +you had seen what prodigious armies we had in <i>Flanders</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookII_chapXIX" id = "bookII_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I have</span> dropped the curtain over this +scene for a minute,——to remind you of one +thing,——and to inform you of another.</p> + +<p>What I have to inform you, comes, I own, a little out of its due +course;——for it should have been told a hundred and fifty +pages ago, but that I foresaw then ’twould come in pat hereafter, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page106" id = "page106">106</a></span> +and be of more advantage here than elsewhere.—Writers had need +look before them, to keep up the spirit and connection of what they have +in hand.</p> + +<p>When these two things are done,—the curtain shall be drawn up +again, and my uncle <i>Toby</i>, my father, and Dr. <i>Slop</i>, shall +go on with their discourse, without any more interruption.</p> + +<p>First, then, the matter which I have to remind you of, is +this;——that from the specimens of singularity in my father’s +notions in the point of christian-names, and that other previous point +thereto,—you was led, I think, into an opinion (and I am sure +I said as much), that my father was a gentleman altogether as odd and +whimsical in fifty other opinions. In truth, there was not a stage in +the life of man, from the very first act of his +begetting,——down to the lean and slippered pantaloon in his +second childishness, but he had some favourite notion to himself, +springing out of it, as sceptical, and as far out of the highway of +thinking, as these two which have been explained.</p> + +<p>—Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, my father, Sir, would see nothing in the +light in which others placed it;—he placed things in his own +light;—he would weigh nothing in common scales;—no, he was +too refined a researcher to lie open to so gross an imposition.—To +come at the exact weight of things in the scientific steel-yard, the +fulcrum, he would say, should be almost invisible, to avoid all friction +from popular tenets;—without this the minutiæ of philosophy, which +would always turn the balance, will have no weight at all. Knowledge, +like matter, he would affirm, was divisible <i>in +infinitum</i>;——that the grains and scruples were as much a +part of it, as the gravitation of the whole world.—In a word, he +would say, error was error,—no matter where it +fell,——whether in a fraction,—or a pound,—’twas +alike fatal to truth, and she was kept down at the bottom of her well, +as inevitably by a mistake in the dust of a butterfly’s +wings,——as in the disk of the sun, the moon, and all the +stars of heaven put together.</p> + +<p>He would often lament that it was for want of considering this +properly, and of applying it skilfully to civil matters, as well as to +speculative truths, that so many things in this world were out of +joint;——that the political arch was giving +way;——and that the very foundations of our excellent +constitution, in church and state, were so sapped as estimators had +reported.</p> + +<p>You cry out, he would say, we are a ruined, undone people. Why? he +would ask, making use of the sorites or syllogism of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page107" id = "page107">107</a></span> +<i>Zeno</i> and <i>Chrysippus</i>, without knowing it belonged to +them.—Why? why are we a ruined people?—Because we are +corrupted.—Whence is it, dear Sir, that we are +corrupted?——Because we are needy;——our poverty, +and not our wills, consent.——And wherefore, he would add, +are we needy?—From the neglect, he would answer, of our pence and +our halfpence:—Our bank notes, Sir, our guineas,—nay, our +shillings take care of themselves.</p> + +<p>’Tis the same, he would say, throughout the whole circle of the +sciences;—the great, the established points of them, are not to be +broke in upon.—The laws of nature will defend +themselves;—but error——(he would add, looking +earnestly at my mother)——error, Sir, creeps in thro’ the +minute holes and small crevices which human nature leaves unguarded.</p> + +<p>This turn of thinking in my father, is what I had to remind you +of:—The point you are to be informed of, and which I have reserved +for this place, is as follows.</p> + +<p>Amongst the many and excellent reasons, with which my father had +urged my mother to accept of Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> assistance preferably to +that of the old woman,——there was one of a very singular +nature; which, when he had done arguing the manner with her as a +Christian, and came to argue it over again with her as a philosopher, he +had put his whole strength to, depending indeed upon it as his +sheet-anchor.——It failed him; tho’ from no defect in the +argument itself; but that, do what he could, he was not able for his +soul to make her comprehend the drift of it.——Cursed +luck!——said he to himself, one afternoon, as he walked out +of the room, after he had been stating it for an hour and a half to her, +to no manner of purpose;—cursed luck! said he, biting his lip as +he shut the door,——for a man to be master of one of the +finest chains of reasoning in nature,—and have a wife at the same +time with such a headpiece, that he cannot hang up a single inference +within side of it, to save his soul from destruction.</p> + +<p>This argument, though it was entirely lost upon my +mother,——had more weight with him, than all his other +arguments joined together:—I will therefore endeavour to do +it justice,—and set it forth with all the perspicuity I am +master of.</p> + +<p>My father set out upon the strength of these two following +axioms:</p> + +<p><i>First</i>, That an ounce of a man’s own wit, was worth a ton of +other people’s; and,</p> + +<p><i>Secondly</i> (Which by the bye, was the ground-work of the first +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page108" id = "page108">108</a></span> +axiom,——tho’ it comes last), That every man’s wit must come +from every man’s own soul,——and no other body’s.</p> + +<p>Now, as it was plain to my father, that all souls were by nature +equal,——and that the great difference between the most acute +and the most obtuse understanding——was from no original +sharpness or bluntness of one thinking substance above or below +another,——but arose merely from the lucky or unlucky +organisation of the body, in that part where the soul principally took +up her residence,——he had made it the subject of his enquiry +to find out the identical place.</p> + +<p>Now, from the best accounts he had been able to get of this matter, +he was satisfied it could not be where <i>Des Cartes</i> had fixed it, +upon the top of the <i>pineal</i> gland of the brain; which, as he +philosophized, formed a cushion for her about the size of a marrow pea; +tho’, to speak the truth, as so many nerves did terminate all in that +one place,—’twas no bad conjecture;——and my father had +certainly fallen with that great philosopher plumb into the centre of +the mistake, had it not been for my uncle <i>Toby</i>, who rescued him +out of it, by a story he told him of a <i>Walloon</i> officer at the +battle of <i>Landen</i>, who had one part of his brain shot away by a +musket-ball,—and another part of it taken out after by a +<i>French</i> surgeon; and after all, recovered, and did his duty very +well without it.</p> + +<p>If death, said my father, reasoning with himself, is nothing but the +separation of the soul from the body; and if it is true that people can +walk about and do their business without brains,—then certes the +soul does not inhabit there. Q. E. D.</p> + +<p>As for that certain, very thin, subtle and very fragrant juice which +<i>Coglionissimo Borri</i>, the great <i>Milanese</i> physician affirms, +in a letter to <i>Bartholine</i>, to have discovered in the cellulæ of +the occipital parts of the cerebellum, and which he likewise affirms to +be the principal seat of the reasonable soul (for, you must know, in +these latter and more enlightened ages, there are two souls in every man +living,—the one, according to the great <i>Metheglingius</i>, +being called the <i>Animus</i>, the other, the <i>Anima</i>;)—as +for the opinion, I say, of <i>Borri</i>,—my father could +never subscribe to it by any means; the very idea of so noble, so +refined, so immaterial, and so exalted a being as the <i>Anima</i>, or +even the <i>Animus</i>, taking up her residence, and sitting dabbling, +like a tadpole all day long, both summer and winter, in a +puddle,——or in a liquid of any kind, how thick or thin +soever, he would say, shocked his imagination; he would scarce give the +doctrine a hearing.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page109" id = "page109">109</a></span> +<p>What, therefore, seemed the least liable to objections of any, was +that the chief sensorium, or head-quarters of the soul, and to which +place all intelligences were referred, and from whence all her mandates +were issued,—was in, or near, the cerebellum,—or rather +somewhere about the <i>medulla oblongata</i>, wherein it was generally +agreed by <i>Dutch</i> anatomists, that all the minute nerves from all +the organs of the seven senses concentered, like streets and winding +alleys, into a square.</p> + +<p>So far there was nothing singular in my father’s opinion,—he +had the best of philosophers, of all ages and climates, to go along with +him.——But here he took a road of his own, setting up another +<i>Shandean</i> hypothesis upon these corner-stones they had laid for +him;——and which said hypothesis equally stood its ground; +whether the subtilty and fineness of the soul depended upon the +temperature and clearness of the said liquor, or of the finer network +and texture in the cerebellum itself; which opinion he favoured.</p> + +<p>He maintained, that next to the due care to be taken in the act of +propagation of each individual, which required all the thought in the +world, as it laid the foundation of this incomprehensible contexture, in +which wit, memory, fancy, eloquence, and what is usually meant by the +name of good natural parts, do consist;—that next to this and his +christian-name, which were the two original and most efficacious causes +of all;——that the third cause, or rather what logicians call +the <i>Causa sine quâ non</i>, and without which all that was done was +of no manner of significance,——was the preservation of this +delicate and fine-spun web, from the havock which was generally made in +it by the violent compression and crush which the head was made to +undergo, by the nonsensical method of bringing us into the world by that +foremost.</p> + +<p>——This requires explanation.</p> + +<p>My father, who dipped into all kinds of books, upon looking into +<i>Lithopædus Senonesis de Partu difficili</i>,<a class = "tag" name = +"tag_2_1" id = "tag_2_1" href = "#note_2_1">1</a> published by +<i>Adrianus Smelvgot</i>, had found out, that the lax and pliable state +of a child’s head in parturition, the bones of the cranium having no +sutures at that time, was such,——that by force of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page110" id = "page110">110</a></span> +the woman’s efforts, which, in strong labour-pains, was equal, upon an +average, to the weight of 470 pounds <ins class = "correction" title = +"text unchanged: expected form ‘avoirdupois’">averdupois</ins> acting +perpendicularly upon it;—it so happened, that in 49 instances out +of 50, the said head was compressed and moulded into the shape of an +oblong conical piece of dough, such as a pastry-cook generally rolls up +in order to make a pye of.—Good God! cried my father, what havock +and destruction must this make in the infinitely fine and tender texture +of the cerebellum!—Or if there is such a juice as <i>Borri</i> +pretends,—is it not enough to make the clearest liquid in the +world both feculent and mothery?</p> + +<p>But how great was his apprehension, when he farther understood, that +this force acting upon the very vertex of the head, not only injured the +brain itself, or cerebrum,—but that it necessarily squeezed and +propelled the cerebrum towards the cerebellum, which was the immediate +seat of the understanding!——Angels and ministers of grace +defend us! cried my father,——can any soul withstand this +shock?—No wonder the intellectual web is so rent and tattered as +we see it; and that so many of our best heads are no better than a +puzzled skein of silk,——all perplexity,——all +confusion within-side.</p> + +<p>But when my father read on, and was let into the secret, that when a +child was turned topsy-turvy, which was easy for an operator to do, and +was extracted by the feet;—that instead of the cerebrum being +propelled towards the cerebellum, the cerebellum, on the contrary, was +propelled simply towards the cerebrum, where it could do no manner of +hurt:——By heavens! cried he, the world is in conspiracy to +drive out what little wit God has given us,——and the +professors of the obstetric art are lifted into the same +conspiracy.—What is it to me which end of my son comes foremost +into the world, provided all goes right after, and his cerebellum +escapes uncrushed?</p> + +<p>It is the nature of an hypothesis, when once a man has conceived it, +that it assimilates every thing to itself, as proper nourishment; and, +from the first moment of your begetting it, it generally grows the +stronger by every thing you see, hear, read, or understand. This is of +great use.</p> + +<p>When my father was gone with this about a month, there was scarce a +phænomenon of stupidity or of genius, which he could not readily solve +by it;—it accounted for the eldest son being the greatest +blockhead in the family.——Poor devil, he would say,—he +made way for the capacity of his younger brothers.——It +unriddled the observations of drivellers and monstrous +heads,——shewing <i>à priori</i>, it could not be +otherwise,——unless +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page111" id = "page111">111</a></span> +**** I don’t know what. It wonderfully explained and accounted for the +acumen of the <i>Asiatic</i> genius, and that sprightlier turn, and a +more penetrating intuition of minds, in warmer climates; not from the +loose and common-place solution of a clearer sky, and a more perpetual +sunshine, &c.—which for aught he knew, might as well rarefy +and dilute the faculties of the soul into nothing, by one +extreme,—as they are condensed in colder climates by the +other;——but he traced the affair up to its +spring-head;—shewed that, in warmer climates, nature had laid a +lighter tax upon the fairest parts of the creation;—their +pleasures more;—the necessity of their pains less, insomuch that +the pressure and resistance upon the vertex was so slight, that the +whole organisation of the cerebellum was preserved;——nay, he +did not believe, in natural births, that so much as a single thread of +the net-work was broke or displaced,——so that the soul might +just act as she liked.</p> + +<p>When my father had got so far,———what a blaze of +light did the accounts of the <i>Cæsarian</i> section, and of the +towering geniuses who had come safe into the world by it, cast upon this +hypothesis? Here you see, he would say, there was no injury done to the +sensorium;—no pressure of the head against the +pelvis;——no propulsion of the cerebrum towards the +cerebellum, either by the <i>os pubis</i> on this side, or the <i>os +coxygis</i> on that;———and pray, what were the happy +consequences? Why, Sir, your <i>Julius Cæsar</i>, who gave the operation +a name;—and your <i>Hermes Trismegistus</i>, who was born so +before ever the operation had a name;——your <i>Scipio +Africanus</i>; your <i>Manlius Torquatus</i>; our <i>Edward</i> the +Sixth,—who, had he lived, would have done the same honour to the +hypothesis:——These, and many more who figured high in the +annals of fame,—all came <i>side-way</i>, Sir, into the world.</p> + +<p>The incision of the <i>abdomen</i> and <i>uterus</i> ran for six +weeks together in my father’s head;——he had read, and was +satisfied, that wounds in the <i>epigastrium</i>, and those in the +<i>matrix</i>, were not mortal;—so that the belly of the mother +might be opened extremely well to give a passage to the child.—He +mentioned the thing one afternoon to my +mother,———merely as a matter of fact; but seeing her +turn as pale as ashes at the very mention of it, as much as the +operation flattered his hopes,—he thought it as well to say no +more of it,——contenting himself with admiring,—what he +thought was to no purpose to propose.</p> + +<p>This was my father Mr. <i>Shandy’s</i> hypothesis; concerning which I +have only to add, that my brother <i>Bobby</i> did as great +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page112" id = "page112">112</a></span> +honour to it (whatever he did to the family) as any one of the great +heroes we spoke of: For happening not only to be christened, as I told +you, but to be born too, when my father was at +<i>Epsom</i>,——being moreover my mother’s <i>first</i> +child,—coming into the world with his head +<i>foremost</i>,—and turning out afterwards a lad of wonderful +slow parts,——my father spelt all these together into his +opinion: and as he had failed at one end,—he was determined to try +the other.</p> + +<p>This was not to be expected from one of the sisterhood, who are not +easily to be put out of their way,——and was therefore one of +my father’s great reasons in favour of a man of science, whom he could +better deal with.</p> + +<p>Of all men in the world, Dr. <i>Slop</i> was the fittest for my +father’s purpose;——for though this new-invented forceps was +the armour he had proved, and what he maintained to be the safest +instrument of deliverance, yet, it seems, he had scattered a word or two +in his book, in favour of the very thing which ran in my father’s +fancy;——tho’ not with a view to the soul’s good in +extracting by the feet, as was my father’s system,—but for reasons +merely obstetrical.</p> + +<p>This will account for the coalition betwixt my father and Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, in the ensuing discourse, which went a little hard against +my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——In what manner a plain man, with +nothing but common sense, could bear up against two such allies in +science,—is hard to conceive.—You may conjecture upon it, if +you please,——and whilst your imagination is in motion, you +may encourage it to go on, and discover by what causes and effects in +nature it could come to pass, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> got his modesty +by the wound he received upon his groin.—You may raise a system to +account for the loss of my nose by marriage-articles,—and shew the +world how it could happen, that I should have the misfortune to be +called <span class = "smallcaps">Tristam</span>, in opposition to my +father’s hypothesis, and the wish of the whole family, Godfathers and +Godmothers not excepted.—These, with fifty other points left yet +unravelled, you may endeavour to solve if you have +time;——but I tell you beforehand it will be in vain, for not +the sage <i>Alquife</i>, the magician in Don <i>Belianis</i> of +<i>Greece</i>, nor the no less famous <i>Urganda</i>, the sorceress his +wife, (were they alive), could pretend to come within a league of the +truth.</p> + +<p>The reader will be content to wait for a full explanation of these +matters till the next year,——when a series of things will be +laid open which he little expects.</p> + + +<p class = "footnote"> +<a name = "note_2_1" id = "note_2_1" href = "#tag_2_1">1.</a> +The author is here twice mistaken; for <i>Lithopædus</i> should be wrote +thus, <i>Lithopædii Senonensis Icon</i>. The second mistake is, that +this <i>Lithopædus</i> is not an author, but a drawing of a petrified +child. The account of this, published by <i>Athosius</i> 1580, may be +seen at the end of <i>Cordæus’s</i> works in <i>Spachius</i>. Mr. +<i>Tristram Shandy</i> has been led into this error, either from seeing +<i>Lithopædus’s</i> name of late in a catalogue of learned writers in +Dr. ——, or by mistaking <i>Lithopædus</i> for +<i>Trinecavellius</i>,——from the too great similitude of the +names.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page113" id = "page113">113</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookIII" id = "bookIII">BOOK III</a></h3> + +<p class = "deephang small"> +Multitudinis imperitæ non formido judicia; meis tamen, rogo, parcant +opusculis———in quibus fuit propositi semper, +a jocis ad seria, a seriis vicissim ad jocos transire. +</p> + +<p class = "right small"> +—<span class = "smallcaps">Joan. Saresberiensis</span>, +<i>Episcopus Lugdun.</i></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapI" id = "bookIII_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p>——“<i>I WISH, Dr. Slop</i>,” quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +(repeating his wish for Dr. <i>Slop</i> a second time, and with a degree +of more zeal and earnestness in his manner of wishing, than he had +wished at first<a class = "tag" name = "tag_3_1" id = "tag_3_1" href = +"#note_3_1">1</a>)——“<i>I wish, Dr. Slop</i>,” quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, “<i>you had seen what prodigious armies we had in</i> +Flanders.”</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wish did Dr. <i>Slop</i> a disservice which +his heart never intended any man,—Sir, it confounded +him——and thereby putting his ideas first into confusion, and +then to flight, he could not rally them again for the soul of him.</p> + +<p>In all disputes,——male or female,——whether +for honour, for profit, or for love,—it makes no difference in the +case;—nothing is more dangerous, Madam, than a wish coming +sideways in this unexpected manner upon a man: the safest way in general +to take off the force of the wish, is for the party wish’d at, instantly +to get upon his legs—and wish the <i>wisher</i> something in +return, of pretty near the same value,——so balancing the +account upon the spot, you stand as you were—nay sometimes gain +the advantage of the attack by it.</p> + +<p>This will be fully illustrated to the world in my chapter of +wishes.—</p> + +<p>Dr. <i>Slop</i> did not understand the nature of this +defence;—he was puzzled with it, and it put an entire stop to the +dispute for four minutes and a half;—five had been fatal to +it:—my father saw the danger—the dispute was one of the most +interesting disputes in the world, “Whether the child of his prayers and +endeavours should be born without a head or with one:”—he waited +to the last moment, to allow Dr. <i>Slop</i>, in whose behalf the wish +was made, his right of returning it; but perceiving, I say, that he +was confounded, and continued looking with that +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page114" id = "page114">114</a></span> +perplexed vacuity of eye which puzzled souls generally stare +with—first in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> face—then in +his—then up—then down—then east—east and by +east, and so on,——coasting it along by the plinth of the +wainscot till he had got to the opposite point of the +compass,——and that he had actually begun to count the brass +nails upon the arm of his chair,—my father thought there was no +time to be lost with my uncle <i>Toby</i>, so took up the discourse as +follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapII" id = "bookIII_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p>“—<span class = "firstword">What</span> prodigious armies you +had in <i>Flanders!</i>”——</p> + +<p>Brother <i>Toby</i>, replied my father, taking his wig from off his +head with his right hand, and with his <i>left</i> pulling out a striped +<i>India</i> handkerchief from his right coat pocket, in order to rub +his head, as he argued the point with my uncle <span class = +"locked"><i>Toby</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>——Now, in this I think my father was much to blame; and I +will give you my reasons for it.</p> + +<p>Matters of no more seeming consequence in themselves than, +“<i>Whether my father should have taken off his wig with his right hand +or with his left</i>,”——have divided the greatest kingdoms, +and made the crowns of the monarchs who governed them, to totter upon +their heads.——But need I tell you, Sir, that the +circumstances with which every thing in this world is begirt, give every +thing in this world its size and shape!—and by tightening it, or +relaxing it, this way or that, make the thing to be, what it +is—great—little—good—bad—indifferent or +not indifferent, just as the case happens?</p> + +<p>As my father’s <i>India</i> handkerchief was in his right coat +pocket, he should by no means have suffered his right hand to have got +engaged: on the contrary, instead of taking off his wig with it, as he +did, he ought to have committed that entirely to the left; and then, +when the natural exigency my father was under of rubbing his head, +called out for his handkerchief, he would have had nothing in the world +to have done, but to have put his right hand into his right coat pocket +and taken it out;——which he might have done without any +violence, or the least ungraceful twist in any one tendon or muscle of +his whole body</p> + +<p>In this case, (unless, indeed, my father had been resolved to make a +fool of himself by holding the wig stiff in his left +hand——or by making some nonsensical angle or other at his +elbow-joint, or arm-pit)—his whole attitude had been +easy—natural—unforced: +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page115" id = "page115">115</a></span> +<i>Reynolds</i> himself, as great and gracefully as he paints, might +have painted him as he sat.</p> + +<p>Now as my father managed this matter,—consider what a devil of +a figure my father made of himself.</p> + +<p>In the latter end of Queen <i>Anne’s</i> reign, and in the beginning +of the reign of King <i>George</i> the first—“<i>Coat pockets were +cut very low down in the skirt</i>.”—I need say no +more—the father of mischief, had he been hammering at it a month, +could not have contrived a worse fashion for one in my father’s +situation.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapIII" id = "bookIII_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was not an easy matter in any +king’s reign (unless you were as lean a subject as myself) to have +forced your hand diagonally, quite across your whole body, so as to gain +the bottom of your opposite coat pocket.——In the year one +thousand seven hundred and eighteen, when this happened, it was +extremely difficult; so that when my uncle <i>Toby</i> discovered the +transverse zig-zaggery of my father’s approaches towards it, it +instantly brought into his mind those he had done duty in, before the +gate of <i>St. Nicolas</i>;——the idea of which drew off his +attention so entirely from the subject in debate, that he had got his +right hand to the bell to ring up <i>Trim</i> to go and fetch his map of +<i>Namur</i>, and his compasses and sector along with it, to measure the +returning angles of the traverses of that attack,—but particularly +of that one, where he received his wound upon his groin.</p> + +<p>My father knit his brows, and as he knit them, all the blood in his +body seemed to rush up into his face——my uncle <i>Toby</i> +dismounted immediately.</p> + +<p>——I did not apprehend your uncle <i>Toby</i> was o’ +horseback.———</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapIV" id = "bookIII_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">A man</span>’s body and his mind, with the +utmost reverence to both I speak it, are exactly like a jerkin, and a +jerkin’s lining;—rumple the one,—you rumple the other. There +is one certain exception however in this case, and that is, when you are +so fortunate a fellow, as to have had your jerkin made of gum-taffeta, +and the body-lining to it of a sarcenet, or thin persian.</p> + +<p><i>Zeno</i>, <i>Cleanthes</i>, <i>Diogenes Babylonius</i>, +<i>Dionysius</i>, <i>Heracleotes</i>, <i>Antipater</i>, <i>Panætius</i>, +and <i>Posidonius</i> amongst the +<i>Greeks</i>;——<i>Cato</i> and <i>Varro</i> and +<i>Seneca</i> amongst the <i>Romans</i>;——<i>Pantæonus</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page116" id = "page116">116</a></span> +and <i>Clemens Alexandrinus</i> and <i>Montaigne</i> amongst the +Christians; and a score and a half of good, honest, unthinking +<i>Shandean</i> people as ever lived, whose names I can’t +recollect,—all pretended that their jerkins were made after this +fashion,—you might have rumpled and crumpled, and doubled and +creased, and fretted and fridged the outside of them all to +pieces;——in short, you might have played the very devil with +them, and at the same time, not one of the insides of them would have +been one button the worse, for all you had done to them.</p> + +<p>I believe in my conscience that mine is made up somewhat after this +sort:——for never poor jerkin has been tickled off at such a +rate as it has been these last nine months together,——and +yet I declare, the lining to it,———as far as I am a +judge of the matter,——is not a three-penny piece the +worse;—pell-mell, helter-skelter, ding-dong, cut and thrust, back +stroke and fore stroke, side way and long way, have they been trimming +it for me:—had there been the least gumminess in my +lining,—by heaven! it had all of it long ago been frayed and +fretted to a thread.</p> + +<p>———You Messrs. the Monthly +reviewers!———how could you cut and slash my jerkin as +you did?——how did you know but you would cut my lining +too?</p> + +<p>Heartily and from my soul, to the protection of that Being who will +injure none of us, do I recommend you and your affairs,—so God +bless you;—only next month, if any one of you should gnash his +teeth, and storm and rage at me, as some of you did last <span class = +"smallcaps">May</span> (in which I remember the weather was very +hot)—don’t be exasperated, if I pass it by again with good +temper,—being determined as long as I live or write (which in my +case means the same thing) never to give the honest gentleman a worse +word or a worse wish than my uncle <i>Toby</i> gave the fly which buzz’d +about his nose all +<i>dinner-time</i>,———“Go,—go, poor devil,” +quoth he,—“get thee gone,—why should I hurt thee? This world +is surely wide enough to hold both thee and me.”</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapV" id = "bookIII_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Any</span> man, Madam, reasoning upwards, +and observing the prodigious suffusion of blood in my father’s +countenance,—by means of which (as all the blood in his body +seemed to rush into his face, as I told you) he must have reddened, +pictorically and scientifically speaking, six whole tints and a half, if +not a full octave +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page117" id = "page117">117</a></span> +above his natural colour:—any man, Madam, but my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, who had observed this, together with the violent knitting +of my father’s brows, and the extravagant contortion of his body during +the whole affair,—would have concluded my father in a rage; and +taking that for granted,—had he been a lover of such kind of +concord as arises from two such instruments being put in exact +tune,—he would instantly have skrew’d up his, to the same +pitch;—and then the devil and all had broke loose—the whole +piece, Madam, must have been played off like the sixth of Avison +Scarlatti—<i>con furia</i>,—like mad.—Grant me +patience!——What has <i>con furia</i>,——<i>con +strepito</i>,——or any other hurly burly whatever to do with +harmony?</p> + +<p>Any man, I say, Madam, but my uncle <i>Toby</i>, the benignity of +whose heart interpreted every motion of the body in the kindest sense +the motion would admit of, would have concluded my father angry, and +blamed him too. My uncle <i>Toby</i> blamed nothing but the taylor who +cut the pocket-hole;——so sitting still till my father had +got his handkerchief out of it, and looking all the time up in his face +with inexpressible good-will——my father, at length, went on +as follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapVI" id = "bookIII_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p>“<span class = "firstword">What</span> prodigious armies you had in +<i>Flanders!</i>”——Brother <i>Toby</i>, quoth my father, +I do believe thee to be as honest a man, and with as good and as +upright a heart as ever God created;—nor is it thy fault, if all +the children which have been, may, can, shall, will, or ought to be +begotten, come with their heads foremost into the +world:——but believe me, dear <i>Toby</i>, the accidents +which unavoidably waylay them, not only in the article of our begetting +’em——though these, in my opinion, are well worth +considering,——but the dangers and difficulties our children +are beset with, after they are got forth into the world, are +enow—little need is there to expose them to unnecessary ones in +their passage to it.——Are these dangers, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, laying his hand upon my father’s knee, and looking up +seriously in his face for an answer,——are these dangers +greater now o’ days, brother, than in times past? Brother <i>Toby</i>, +answered my father, if a child was but fairly begot, and born alive, and +healthy, and the mother did well after it,—our forefathers never +looked farther.——My uncle <i>Toby</i> instantly withdrew his +hand from off my father’s knee, reclined his body gently back in his +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page118" id = "page118">118</a></span> +chair, raised his head till he could just see the cornice of the room, +and then directing the buccinatory muscles along his cheeks, and the +orbicular muscles around his lips to do their duty—he whistled +<i>Lillabullero</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapVII" id = "bookIII_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Whilst</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> was +whistling <i>Lillabullero</i> to my father,—Dr. <i>Slop</i> was +stamping, and cursing and damning at <i>Obadiah</i> at a most dreadful +rate,———it would have done your heart good, and cured +you, Sir, for ever of the vile sin of swearing, to have heard him; +I am determined therefore to relate the whole affair to you.</p> + +<p>When Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> maid delivered the green bays bag with her +master’s instruments in it, to <i>Obadiah</i>, she very sensibly +exhorted him to put his head and one arm through the strings, and ride +with it slung across his body: so undoing the bow-knot, to lengthen the +strings for him, without any more ado, she helped him on with it. +However, as this, in some measure, unguarded the mouth of the bag, lest +anything should bolt out in galloping back, at the speed <i>Obadiah</i> +threatened, they consulted to take it off again: and in the great care +and caution of their hearts, they had taken the two strings and tied +them close (pursing up the mouth of the bag first) with half a dozen +hard knots, each of which <i>Obadiah</i>, to make all safe, had twitched +and drawn together with all the strength of his body.</p> + +<p>This answered all that <i>Obadiah</i> and the maid intended; but was +no remedy against some evils which neither he or she foresaw. The +instruments, it seems, as tight as the bag was tied above, had so much +room to play in it, towards the bottom (the shape of the bag being +conical) that <i>Obadiah</i> could not make a trot of it, but with such +a terrible jingle, what with the <i>tire tête</i>, <i>forceps</i>, and +<i>squirt</i>, as would have been enough, had <i>Hymen</i> been taking a +jaunt that way, to have frightened him out of the country; but when +<i>Obadiah</i> accelerated his motion, and from a plain trot assayed to +prick his coach-horse into a full gallop——by Heaven! Sir, +the jingle was incredible.</p> + +<p>As <i>Obadiah</i> had a wife and three children——the +turpitude of fornication, and the many other political ill consequences +of this jingling, never once entered his brain,——he had +however his objection, which came home to himself, and weighed with him, +as it has oft-times done with the greatest +patriots.——“<i>The poor fellow, Sir, was not able to hear +himself whistle.</i>”</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page119" id = "page119">119</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapVIII" id = "bookIII_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> <i>Obadiah</i> loved wind-music +preferably to all the instrumental music he carried with him,—he +very considerately set his imagination to work, to contrive and to +invent by what means he should put himself in a condition of +enjoying it.</p> + +<p>In all distresses (except musical) where small cords are wanted, +nothing is so apt to enter a man’s head as his +hat-band:——the philosophy of this is so near the +surface——I scorn to enter into it.</p> + +<p>As <i>Obadiah’s</i> was a mix’d case——mark, +Sirs,——I say, a mixed case; for it was +obstetrical,——<i>scrip</i>tical, squirtical, +papistical——and as far as the coach-horse was concerned in +it,——caballistical——and only partly +musical;—<i>Obadiah</i> made no scruple of availing himself of the +first expedient which offered; so taking hold of the bag and +instruments, and <ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: expected form ‘gripping’">griping</ins> them hard together with one +hand, and with the finger and thumb of the other putting the end of the +hat-band betwixt his teeth, and then slipping his hand down to the +middle of it,—he tied and cross-tied them all fast together from +one end to the other (as you would cord a trunk) with such a +multiplicity of roundabouts and intricate cross turns, with a hard knot +at every intersection or point where the strings met,—that Dr. +<i>Slop</i> must have had three-fifths of <i>Job’s</i> patience at least +to have unloosed them.—I think in my conscience, that had +<span class = "smallcaps">Nature</span> been in one of her nimble moods, +and in humour for such a contest——and she and Dr. +<i>Slop</i> both fairly started together——there is no man +living who had seen the bag with all that <i>Obadiah</i> had done to +it,——and known likewise the great speed the Goddess can make +when she thinks proper, who would have had the least doubt remaining in +his mind—which of the two would have carried off the prize. My +mother, Madam, had been delivered sooner than the green bag +infallibly——at least by twenty +<i>knots</i>.——Sport of small accidents, <i>Tristram +Shandy!</i> that thou art, and ever will be! had that trial been for +thee, and it was fifty to one but it had,——thy affairs had +not been so depress’d—(at least by the depression of thy +nose) as they have been; nor had the fortunes of thy house and the +occasions of making them, which have so often presented themselves in +the course of thy life, to thee, been so often, so vexatiously, so +tamely, so irrecoverably abandoned—as thou hast been forced to +leave them;——but ’tis over,——all but the account +of ’em, which cannot be given to the curious till I am got out into the +world.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page120" id = "page120">120</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapIX" id = "bookIII_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Great</span> wits jump: for the moment Dr. +<i>Slop</i> cast his eyes upon his bag (which he had not done till the +dispute with my uncle <i>Toby</i> about midwifery put him in mind +of it)—the very same thought occurred.—’Tis God’s +mercy, quoth he (to himself) that Mrs. <i>Shandy</i> has had so bad +a time of it,——else she might have been brought to bed seven +times told, before one half of these knots could have got +untied.——But here you must distinguish—the thought +floated only in Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> mind, without sail or ballast to it, +as a simple proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are +every day swimming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a man’s +understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some +little gusts of passion or interest drive them to one side.</p> + +<p>A sudden trampling in the room above, near my mother’s bed, did the +proposition the very service I am speaking of. By all that’s +unfortunate, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, unless I make haste, the thing will +actually befall me as it is.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapX" id = "bookIII_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> the case of +<i>knots</i>,—by which, in the first place, I would not be +understood to mean slip-knots—because in the course of my life and +opinions—my opinions concerning them will come in more properly +when I mention the catastrophe of my great uncle Mr. <i>Hammond +Shandy</i>,—a little man,—but of high fancy:—he +rushed into the duke of <i>Monmouth’s</i> affair:——nor, +secondly, in this place, do I mean that particular species of knots +called bow-knots;—there is so little address, or skill, or +patience required in the unloosing them, that they are below my giving +any opinion at all about them.—But by the knots I am speaking of, +may it please your reverences to believe, that I mean good, honest, +devilish tight, hard knots, made <i>bona fide</i>, as <i>Obadiah</i> +made his;——in which there is no quibbling provision made by +the duplication and return of the two ends of the strings thro’ the +annulus or noose made by the second <i>implication</i> of them—to +get them slipp’d and undone by.—I hope you +apprehend me.</p> + +<p>In the case of these <i>knots</i> then, and of the several +obstructions, which, may it please your reverences, such knots cast in +our way in getting through life——every hasty man can whip +out his +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page121" id = "page121">121</a></span> +penknife and cut through them.——’Tis wrong. Believe me, +Sirs, the most virtuous way, and which both reason and conscience +dictate——is to take our teeth or our fingers to +them.——Dr. <i>Slop</i> had lost his teeth—his +favourite instrument, by extracting in a wrong direction, or by some +misapplication of it, unfortunately slipping, he had formerly, in a hard +labour, knock’d out three of the best of them with the handle of +it:———he tried his fingers—alas; the nails of +his fingers and thumbs were cut close.——The duce take it! +I can make nothing of it either way, cried Dr. +<i>Slop</i>.——The trampling overhead near my mother’s +bedside increased.—Pox take the fellow! I shall never get the +knots untied as long as I live.——My mother gave a +groan.——Lend me your penknife——I must e’en +cut the knots at last——pugh!——psha!—Lord! +I have cut my thumb quite across to the very +bone——curse the fellow—if there was not another +man-midwife within fifty miles——I am undone for this +bout—I wish the scoundrel hang’d—I wish he was +shot——I wish all the devils in hell had him for a <span +class = "locked">blockhead!———</span></p> + +<p>My father had a great respect for <i>Obadiah</i>, and could not bear +to hear him disposed of in such a manner—he had moreover some +little respect for himself—and could as ill bear with the +indignity offered to himself in it.</p> + +<p>Had Dr. <i>Slop</i> cut any part about him, but his +thumb——my father had pass’d it by—his prudence had +triumphed: as it was, he was determined to have his revenge.</p> + +<p>Small curses, Dr. <i>Slop</i>, upon great occasions, quoth my father +(condoling with him first upon the accident), are but so much waste of +our strength and soul’s health to no manner of purpose.—I own +it, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—They are like sparrow-shot, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i> (suspending his whistling), fired against a +bastion.——They serve, continued my father, to stir the +humours——but carry off none of their acrimony:—for my +own part, I seldom swear or curse at all—I hold it +bad——but if I fall into it by surprize, I generally +retain so much presence of mind (right, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>) as +to make it answer my purpose——that is, I swear on till +I find myself easy. A wise and a just man however would always +endeavour to proportion the vent given to these humours, not only to the +degree of them stirring within himself—but to the size and ill +intent of the offence upon which they are to fall.—“<i>Injuries +come only from the heart</i>,”—quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>. For +this reason, continued my father, with the most <i>Cervantick</i> +gravity, I have the greatest veneration in the world for that +gentleman, who, in distrust of his own discretion +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page122" id = "page122">122</a></span> +in this point, sat down and composed (that is at his leisure) fit forms +of swearing suitable to all cases, from the lowest to the highest +provocation which could possibly happen to him——which forms +being well considered by him, and such moreover as he could stand to, he +kept them ever by him on the chimney-piece, within his reach, ready for +use.—I never apprehended, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>, that such +a thing was ever thought of——much less executed. I beg +your pardon, answered my father; I was reading, though not using, +one of them to my brother <i>Toby</i> this morning, whilst he pour’d out +the tea—’tis here upon the shelf over my head;—but if I +remember right, ’tis too violent for a cut of the thumb.—Not at +all, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>—the devil take the +fellow.——Then, answered my father, ’Tis much at your +service, Dr. <i>Slop</i>—on condition you will read it +aloud;——so rising up and reaching down a form of +excommunication of the church of <i>Rome</i>, a copy of which, my +father (who was curious in his collections) had procured out of the +leger-book of the church of <i>Rochester</i>, writ by <span class = +"smallcaps">Ernulphus</span> the bishop——with a most +affected seriousness of look and voice, which might have cajoled <span +class = "smallcaps">Ernulphus</span> himself—he put it into Dr. +<i>Slop’s</i> hands.——Dr. <i>Slop</i> wrapt his thumb up in +the corner of his handkerchief, and with a wry face, though without any +suspicion, read aloud, as follows———my uncle +<i>Toby</i> whistling <i>Lillabullero</i> as loud as he could all the +time.</p> + + +<h5><a name = "bookIII_excomm" id = "bookIII_excomm"> +Textus de Ecclesiâ Roffensi, per Ernulfum Episcopum.</a></h5> + +<table class = "parallel" summary = "parallel text"> +<tr> +<td> +<h4>CAP. XI<br /> +EXCOMMUNICATIO<a class = "tag" name = "tag_3_2" id = "tag_3_2" href = +"#note_3_2">2</a></h4> +</td> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page123" id = "page123">123</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXI" id = "bookIII_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "firstword">Ex</span> auctoritate Dei omnipotentis, +Patris, et Filij, et Spiritus Sancti, et sanctorum canonum, sanctæque et +intemeratæ Virginis Dei genetricis <span class = +"locked">Mariæ,—</span></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>“<span class = "firstword">By</span> the authority of God Almighty, +the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the holy canons, and of the +undefiled Virgin <i>Mary</i>, mother and patroness of our Saviour.”</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>I think there is no necessity, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, dropping the +paper down to his knee, and addressing himself to my +father——as you have read it over, Sir, so lately, to read it +aloud——and as Captain <i>Shandy</i> seems to have no great +inclination to hear it———I may as well read it to +myself. That’s contrary to treaty, replied my +father:———besides, there is something so whimsical, +especially in the latter part of it, I should grieve to lose the +pleasure of a second reading. Dr. <i>Slop</i> did not altogether like +it,———but my uncle <i>Toby</i> offering at that +instant to give over whistling, and read it himself to +them;———Dr. <i>Slop</i> thought he might as well read +it under the cover of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +whistling———as suffer my uncle <i>Toby</i> to read it +alone;——so raising up the paper to his face, and holding it +quite parallel to it, in order to hide his +chagrin———he read it aloud as +follows————my uncle <i>Toby</i> whistling +<i>Lillabullero</i>, though not quite so loud as before.</p> + +<table class = "parallel" summary = "parallel text"> +<tr> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum left"> +<a name = "page124" id = "page124">124</a></span> +<p>———Atque omnium cœlestium virtutum, angelorum, +archangelorum, thronorum, dominationum, potestatuum, cherubin ac +seraphin, & sanctorum patriarchum, prophetarum, & omnium +apostolorum & evangelistarum, & sanctorum innocentum, qui in +conspectu Agni soli digni inventi sunt canticum cantare novum, et +sanctorum martyrum et sanctorum confessorum, et sanctarum virginum, +atque omnium simul sanctorum et electorum Dei,</p> +</td> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page125" id = "page125">125</a></span> +<p>“By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, +and of the undefiled Virgin <i>Mary</i>, mother and patroness of our +Saviour, and of all the celestial virtues, angels, archangels, thrones, +dominions, powers, cherubins and seraphins, and of all the holy +patriarchs, prophets, and of all the apostles and evangelists, and of +the holy innocents, who in the sight of the Holy Lamb, are found worthy +to sing the new song of the holy martyrs and holy confessors, and of the +holy virgins, and of all the saints, together with the holy and elect of +God,——May he” (<i>Obadiah</i>) “be damn’d” (for tying these +knots)</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p>——Excommunicamus, et anathematizamus<br /> +<i>vel</i> os <span class = "invisible"> fure</span>s<span class = +"invisible">, vel </span><i>vel</i> os <span class = "invisible"> +malefactore</span>s<br /> +hunc furem, vel hunc malefactorem, N. N. et a liminibus sanctæ Dei +ecclesiæ sequestramus, et æternis suppliciis<br /> + +<span class = "invisible">excrucia</span><i>vel</i> i <span class = +"invisible">, mancipe</span>n<br /> +excruciandus, mancipetur, cum Dathan et Abiram, et cum his qui dixerunt +Domino Deo, Recede à nobis, scientiam viarum tuarum nolumus: et sicut +aquâ ignis extinguitur, sic extinguatur<br /> +  <i>vel</i> eorum<br /> +lucerna ejus in secula seculorum nisi<br /> +<span class = "invisible">resipuer</span>n, <span class = "invisible">et +ad satisfactionem vener</span>n<br /> +resipuerit, et ad satisfactionem venerit. Amen.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>——“We excommunicate, and anathematize him, and from the +thresholds of the holy church of God Almighty we sequester him, that he +may be tormented, disposed, and delivered over with <i>Dathan</i> and +<i>Abiram</i>, and with those who say unto the Lord God, Depart from us, +we desire none of thy ways. And as fire is quenched with water, so let +the light of him be put out for evermore, unless it shall repent him” +(<i>Obadiah</i>, of the knots which he has tied) “and make satisfaction” +(for them) “Amen.”</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum Deus Pater qui hominem creavit.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum Dei Filius qui pro homine passus est.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum Spiritus Sanctus qui in baptismo effusus est.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum sancta crux, quam Christus pro nostrâ salute hostem +triumphans ascendit.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p> </p> +<p>“May the Father who created man, curse him.——May the Son +who suffered for us, curse him.——May the Holy Ghost, who was +given to us in baptism, curse him (<i>Obadiah</i>)——May the +holy cross which Christ, for our salvation triumphing over his enemies, +ascended, curse him.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum sancta Dei genetrix et perpetua Virgo Maria.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum sanctus Michael, animarum susceptor sacrarum.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicant ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicant illum omnes angeli et archangeli, principatus et potestates, +omnisque militia cœlestis.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p> </p> +<p>“May the holy and eternal Virgin <i>Mary</i>, mother of God, curse +him.———May St. <i>Michael</i>, the advocate of holy +souls, curse him.——May all the angels and archangels, +principalities and powers, and all the heavenly armies, curse him.” [Our +armies swore terribly in <i>Flanders</i>, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,———but nothing to +this.———For my own part I could not have a heart to +curse my dog so.]</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum patriarcharum et prophetarum laudabilis numerus.<br +/> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum sanctus Johannes Præcusor et Baptista Christi, et +sanctus Petrus, et sanctus Paulus, atque sanctus Andreas, omnesque +Christi apostoli, simul et cæteri</p> + +<span class = "pagenum left"> +<a name = "page126" id = "page126">126</a></span> + +<p>discipuli, quatuor quoque evangelistæ, qui sua prædicatione mundum +universum converterunt.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicat ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicat illum cuneus martyrum et confessorum mirificus, qui Deo bonis +operibus placitus inventus est.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p> </p> +<p>“May St. John, the Præcursor, and St. John the Baptist, and St. Peter +and St. Paul, and St. Andrew, and all other Christ’s apostles, together +curse him. And may the rest of his disciples and four evangelists, who +by their preaching converted the universal world, and may the holy and +wonderful company of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page127" id = "page127">127</a></span> +martyrs and confessors who by their holy works are found pleasing to God +Almighty, curse him” (<i>Obadiah</i>).</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledicant ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicant illum sacrarum virginum chori, quæ mundi vana causa +honoris Christi respuenda contempserunt.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledicant ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicant illum omnes sancti qui ab initio mundi usque in finem seculi +Deo dilecti inveniuntur.</p> + +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledicant ill</span>os<br /> +Maledicant illum cœli et terra, et omnia sancta in eis manentia.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p> </p> +<p>“May the holy choir of the holy virgins, who for the honour of Christ +have despised the things of the world, damn him——May all the +saints, who from the beginning of the world to everlasting ages are +found to be beloved of God, damn him———May the heavens +and earth, and all the holy things remaining therein, damn him” +(<i>Obadiah</i>) “or her” (or whoever else had a hand in tying +these knots).</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n <span class = +"invisible">ubicunque fuer</span>n<br /> +Maledictus sit ubicunque fuerit, sive in domo, sive in agro, sive in +viâ, sive in semitâ, sive in silvâ, sive in aquâ, sive in ecclesiâ.</p> + +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n<br /> +Maledictus sit vivendo, moriendo, +<img src = "images/onedash.gif" width = "200" height = "12" +alt = "--" /><br /> +<span class = "space25"> ——— +——— ———<br /> + ——— ——— +———<br /> + ——— ——— +———</span><br /> +manducando, bibendo, esuriendo, sitiendo, jejunando, dormitando, +dormiendo, vigilando, ambulando, stando, sedendo, jacendo, operando, +quiescendo, mingendo, cacando, flebotomando.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p> </p> +<p>“May he (<i>Obadiah</i>) be damn’d wherever he +be——whether in the house or the stables, the garden or the +field, or the highway, or in the path, or in the wood, or in the water, +or in the church.——May he be cursed in living, in dying.” +[Here my uncle <i>Toby</i>, taking the advantage of a <i>minim</i> in +the second bar of his tune, kept whistling one continued note to the end +of the sentence.——Dr. <i>Slop</i>, with his division of +curses moving under him, like a running bass all the way.] “May he be +cursed in eating, and drinking, in being hungry, in being thirsty, in +fasting, in sleeping, in slumbering, in walking, in standing, in +sitting, in lying, in working, in resting, in pissing, in shitting, and +in blood-letting!”</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n<br /> +Maledictus sit in totis viribus corporis,</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>“May he” (<i>Obadiah</i>) “be cursed in all the faculties of his +body!</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n<br /> +Maledictus sit intus et exterius.</p> + +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n<br /> +Maledictus sit in capillis;</p> + +<p><span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n<br /> +maledictus sit in cerebro.<br /> +<span class = "invisible">Maledict </span>i n<br /> +Maledictus sit in vertice, in temporibus, in fronte, in auriculis, in +superciliis, in oculis, in genis, in maxillis, in naribus, in dentibus, +mordacibus, sive molaribus, in labiis, in guttere, in humeris, in +harnis, in brachiis, in manubus, in digitis, in pectore, in corde, et in +omnibus interioribus stomacho tenus, in renibus, in inguinibus, in +femore, in genitalibus, in coxis, in genubus, in cruribus, in pedibus, +et in inguibus.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>“May he be cursed inwardly and outwardly!———May he +be cursed in the hair of his head!——May he be cursed in his +brains, and in his vertex” (that is a sad curse, quoth my father), “in +his temples, in his forehead, in his ears, in his eye-brows, in his +cheeks, in his jaw-bones, in his nostrils, in his fore-teeth and +grinders, in his lips, in his throat, in his shoulders, in his wrists, +in his arms, in his hands, in his fingers!</p> + +<p>“May he be damn’d in his mouth, in his breast, in his heart and +purtenance, down to the very stomach!</p> + +<p>“May he be cursed in his <ins class = "correction" +title = "not an error: _renibus_ = kidneys)">reins</ins>, and in his groin” (God in +heaven forbid! quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>), “in his thighs, in his +genitals” (my father shook his head), “and in his hips, and in his +knees, his legs, and feet, and toe-nails!</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum left"> +<a name = "page128" id = "page128">128</a></span> +<p>Maledictus sit in totis compagibus membrorum, a vertice capitis, +usque ad plantam pedis—non sit in eo sanitas.</p> +</td> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page129" id = "page129">129</a></span> +<p>“May he be cursed in all the joints and articulations of his members, +from the top of his head to the sole of his foot! May there be no +soundness in him!</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p>Maledicat illum Christus Filius Dei vivi toto suæ majestatis <span +class = "locked">imperio.——</span></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>“May the Son of the living God, with all the glory of his +Majesty”——</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>[Here my uncle <i>Toby</i>, throwing back his head, gave a monstrous, +long, loud Whew—w—w————something +betwixt the interjectional whistle of <i>Hay-day!</i> and the word <span +class = "locked">itself.———</span></p> + +<p>——By the golden beard of <i>Jupiter</i>—and of +<i>Juno</i> (if her majesty wore one) and by the beards of the rest +of your heathen worships, which by the bye was no small number, since +what with the beards of your celestial gods, and gods aerial and +aquatick—to say nothing of the beards of town-gods and +country-gods, or of the celestial goddesses your wives, or of the +infernal goddesses your whores and concubines (that is in case they wore +them)———all which beards, as <i>Varro</i> tells me, +upon his word and honour, when mustered up together, made no less than +thirty thousand effective beards upon the Pagan +establishment;——every beard of which claimed the rights and +privileges of being stroken and sworn by—by all these beards +together then——I vow and protest, that of the two bad +cassocks I am worth in the world, I would have given the better of +them, as freely as ever <i>Cid Hamet</i> offered his——to +have stood by, and heard my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> accompanyment.]</p> + +<table class = "parallel" summary = "parallel text"> +<tr> +<td> +<p>——et insurgat adversus illum cœlum cum omnibus virtutibus +quæ in eo moventur ad <i>damnandum</i> eum, nisi penituerit et ad +satisfactionem venerit. Amen. Fiat, fiat. Amen.</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>——“curse him!” continued Dr. <i>Slop</i>,—“and may +heaven, with all the powers which move therein, rise up against <ins +class = "correction" title = "invisible , at line-end">him,</ins> curse +and damn him” (<i>Obadiah</i>) “unless he repent and make satisfaction! +Amen. So be it,—so be it. Amen.”</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>I declare, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, my heart would not let me +curse the devil himself with so much bitterness.—He is the father +of curses, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>.——So am not I, replied my +uncle.——But he is cursed, and damn’d already, to all +eternity, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>.</p> + +<p>I am sorry for it, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>Dr. <i>Slop</i> drew up his mouth, and was just beginning to return +my uncle <i>Toby</i> the compliment of his Whu—u—u—or +interjectional whistle——when the door hastily opening in the +next chapter but one——put an end to the affair.</p> + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page130" id = "page130">130</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXII" id = "bookIII_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> don’t let us give ourselves a +parcel of airs, and pretend that the oaths we make free with in this +land of liberty of ours are our own; and because we have the spirit to +swear them,——imagine that we have had the wit to invent them +too.</p> + +<p>I’ll undertake this moment to prove it to any man in the world, +except to a connoisseur:——though I declare I object only to +a connoisseur in swearing,——as I would do to a connoisseur +in painting, &c., &c., the whole set of ’em are so hung round +and <i>befetish’d</i> with the bobs and trinkets of +criticism,——or to drop my metaphor, which by the bye is a +pity,——for I have fetch’d it as far as from the coast of +<i>Guiney</i>;—their heads, Sir, are stuck so full of rules and +compasses, and have that eternal propensity to apply them upon all +occasions, that a work of genius had better go to the devil at once, +than stand to be prick’d and tortured to death by ’em.</p> + +<p>—And how did <i>Garrick</i> speak the soliloquy last +night?—Oh, against all rule, my lord,—most ungrammatically! +betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree together +in <i>number</i>, <i>case</i>, and <i>gender</i>, he made a breach +thus,—stopping, as if the point wanted settling;—and betwixt +the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, +he suspended his voice in the epilogue a dozen times three seconds and +three-fifths by a stop-watch, my lord, each time,—Admirable +grammarian!——But in suspending his voice——was +the sense suspended likewise? Did no expression of attitude or +countenance fill up the chasm?——Was the eye silent? Did you +narrowly look?———I look’d only at the stop-watch, +my lord.—Excellent observer!</p> + +<p>And what of this new book the whole world makes such a rout +about?——Oh! ’tis out of all plumb, my +lord,——quite an irregular thing!—not one of the angles +at the four corners was a right angle.—I had my rule and +compasses, &c., my lord, in my pocket.—Excellent critick!</p> + +<p>——And for the epick poem your lordship bid me look +at——upon taking the length, breadth, height, and depth of +it, and trying them at home upon an exact scale of +<i>Bossu’s</i>——’tis out, my lord, in every one of its +dimensions.—Admirable connoisseur!</p> + +<p>——And did you step in, to take a look at the grand +picture in your way back?—’Tis a melancholy daub! my lord; not one +principle of the <i>pyramid</i> in any one group!——and what +a price!——for +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page131" id = "page131">131</a></span> +there is nothing of the colouring of <i>Titian</i>—the expression +of <i>Rubens</i>—the grace of <i>Raphael</i>—the purity of +<i>Dominichino</i>—the <i>corregiescity</i> of +<i>Corregio</i>—the learning of <i>Poussin</i>—the airs of +<i>Guido</i>—the taste of the <i>Carrachis</i>—or the grand +contour of <i>Angela</i>.—Grant me patience, just Heaven!—Of +all the cants which are canted in this canting world—though the +cant of hypocrites may be the worst——the cant of criticism +is the most tormenting!</p> + +<p>I would go fifty miles on foot, for I have not a horse worth riding +on, to kiss the hand of that man whose generous heart will give up the +reins of his imagination into his author’s hands——be pleased +he knows not why, and cares not wherefore.</p> + +<p>Great <i>Apollo!</i> if thou art in a giving humour—give +me—I ask no more, but one stroke of native humour, with a single +spark of thy own fire along with it——and send +<i>Mercury</i>, with the <i>rules and compasses</i>, if he can be +spared, with my compliments to—no matter.</p> + +<p>Now to any one else I will undertake to prove, that all the oaths and +imprecations which we have been puffing off upon the world for these two +hundred and fifty years last past as originals——except St. +<i>Paul’s thumb</i>——<i>God’s flesh and God’s fish</i>, +which were oaths monarchical, and, considering who made them, not much +amiss; and as kings’ oaths, ’tis not much matter whether they were fish +or flesh;—else I say, there is not an oath, or at least a curse +amongst them, which has not been copied over and over again out of +<i>Ernulphus</i> a thousand times: but, like all other copies, how +infinitely short of the force and spirit of the original!—It is +thought to be no bad oath——and by itself passes very +well—“<i>G—d damn you.</i>”—Set it beside +<i>Ernulphus’s</i>——“God Almighty the Father damn +you—God the Son damn you—God the Holy Ghost damn +you”—you see ’tis nothing.—There is an orientality in his, +we cannot rise up to: besides, he is more copious in his +invention—possess’d more of the excellencies of a +swearer——had such a thorough knowledge of the human frame, +its membranes, nerves, ligaments, knittings of the joints, and +articulations,——that when <i>Ernulphus</i> cursed—no +part escaped him.—’Tis true there is something of a +<i>hardness</i> in his manner——and, as in <i>Michael +Angelo</i>, a want of <i>grace</i>——but then there is +such a greatness of <i>gusto!</i></p> + +<p>My father, who generally look’d upon everything in a light very +different from all mankind, would, after all, never allow this to be an +original.——He considered rather, <i>Ernulphus’s</i> +anathema, as an institute of swearing, in which, as he suspected, upon +the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page132" id = "page132">132</a></span> +decline of <i>swearing</i> in some milder pontificate, <i>Ernulphus</i>, +by order of the succeeding pope, had with great learning and diligence +collected together all the laws of it;—for the same reason that +<i>Justinian</i>, in the decline of the empire, had ordered his +chancellor <i>Tribonian</i> to collect the <i>Roman</i> or civil laws +all together into one code or digest——lest, through the rust +of time——and the fatality of all things committed to oral +tradition—they should be lost to the world for ever.</p> + +<p>For this reason my father would oft-times affirm, there was not an +oath, from the great and tremendous oath of <i>William</i> the Conqueror +(<i>By the splendour of God</i>) down to the lowest oath of a +scavenger (<i>Damn your eyes</i>) which was not to be found in +<i>Ernulphus</i>.—In short, he would add—I defy a man +to swear <i>out</i> of it.</p> + +<p>The hypothesis is, like most of my father’s, singular and ingenious +too;——nor have I any objection to it, but that it overturns +my own.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXIII" id = "bookIII_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">Bless</span> my +soul!—my poor mistress is ready to faint——and her +pains are gone—and the drops are done—and the bottle of +julap is broke——and the nurse has cut her arm—(and I, +my thumb, cried Dr. <i>Slop</i>,) and the child is where it was, +continued <i>Susannah</i>,—and the midwife has fallen backwards +upon the edge of the fender, and bruised her hip as black as your +hat.—I’ll look at it, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—There is no +need of that, replied <i>Susannah</i>,—you had better look at my +mistress—but the midwife would gladly first give you an account +how things are, so desires you would go up stairs and speak to her this +moment.</p> + +<p>Human nature is the same in all professions.</p> + +<p>The midwife had just before been put over Dr. <i>Slop’s</i> +head—He had not digested it,—No, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>, +’twould be full as proper, if the midwife came down to +me.—I like subordination, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,—and but for it, after the reduction of <i>Lisle</i>, +I know not what might have become of the garrison of <i>Ghent</i>, +in the mutiny for bread, in the year Ten.—Nor, replied Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, (parodying my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> hobby-horsical +reflection; though full as hobby-horsical +himself)———do I know, Captain <i>Shandy</i>, what +might have become of the garrison above stairs, in the mutiny and +confusion I find all things are in at present, but for the subordination +of fingers and thumbs to ******———the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page133" id = "page133">133</a></span> +application of which, Sir, under this accident of mine, comes in so <i>à +propos</i>, that without it, the cut upon my thumb might have been felt +by the <i>Shandy</i> family, as long as the <i>Shandy</i> family had a +name.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXIV" id = "bookIII_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Let</span> us go back to the +******——in the last chapter.</p> + +<p>It is a singular stroke of eloquence (at least it was so, when +eloquence flourished at <i>Athens</i> and <i>Rome</i>, and would be so +now, did orators wear mantles) not to mention the name of a thing, when +you had the thing about you <i>in petto</i>, ready to produce, pop, in +the place you want it. A scar, an axe, a sword, a pink’d +doublet, a rusty helmet, a pound and a half of pot-ashes in an +urn, or a three-halfpenny pickle pot—but above all, a tender +infant royally accoutred.—Tho’ if it was too young, and the +oration as long as <i>Tully’s</i> second <i>Philippick</i>—it must +certainly have beshit the orator’s mantle.—And then again, if too +old,—it must have been unwieldy and incommodious to his +action—so as to make him lose by his child almost as much as he +could gain by it.—Otherwise, when a state orator has hit the +precise age to a minute——hid his BAMBINO in his mantle so +cunningly that no mortal could smell it——and produced it so +critically, that no soul could say, it came in by head and +shoulders—Oh Sirs! it has done wonders—It has open’d the +sluices, and turn’d the brains, and shook the principles, and unhinged +the politicks of half a nation.</p> + +<p>These feats however are not to be done, except in those states and +times, I say, where orators wore mantles——and pretty +large ones too, my brethren, with some twenty or five-and-twenty yards +of good purple, superfine, marketable cloth in them—with large +flowing folds and doubles, and in a great style of design.—All +which plainly shews, may it please your worships, that the decay of +eloquence, and the little good service it does at present, both within +and without doors, is owing to nothing else in the world, but short +coats, and the disuse of <i>trunk-hose</i>.——We can conceal +nothing under ours, Madam, worth shewing.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXV" id = "bookIII_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Dr</span>. <i>Slop</i> was within an ace of +being an exception to all this argumentation: for happening to have his +green bays bag upon +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page134" id = "page134">134</a></span> +his knees, when he began to parody my uncle <i>Toby</i>—’twas as +good as the best mantle in the world to him: for which purpose, when he +foresaw the sentence would end in his new-invented <i>forceps</i>, he +thrust his hand into the bag in order to have them ready to clap in, +when your reverences took so much notice of the ***, which had he +managed——my uncle <i>Toby</i> had certainly been overthrown: +the sentence and the argument in that case jumping closely in one point, +so like the two lines which form the salient angle of a +ravelin,——Dr. <i>Slop</i> would never have given them +up;—and my uncle <i>Toby</i> would as soon have thought of flying, +as taking them by force: but Dr. <i>Slop</i> fumbled so vilely in +pulling them out, it took off the whole effect, and what was a ten times +worse evil (for they seldom come alone in this life) in pulling out his +<i>forceps</i>, his <i>forceps</i> unfortunately drew out the +<i>squirt</i> along with it.</p> + +<p>When a proposition can be taken in two senses—’tis a law in +disputation, That the respondent may reply to which of the two he +pleases, or finds most convenient for him.——This threw the +advantage of the argument quite on my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +side.——“Good God!” cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, “<i>are +children brought into the world with a squirt?</i>”</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXVI" id = "bookIII_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">Upon</span> my honour, Sir, you have +tore every bit of skin quite off the back of both my hands with your +forceps, cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>—and you have crush’d all my +knuckles into the bargain with them to a jelly. ’Tis your own fault, +said Dr. <i>Slop</i>——you should have clinch’d your two +fists together into the form of a child’s head as I told you, and sat +firm. I did so, answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——Then +the points of my forceps have not been sufficiently arm’d, or the rivet +wants closing—or else the cut in my thumb has made me a little +aukward—or possibly—’Tis well, quoth my father, interrupting +the detail of possibilities—that the experiment was not first made +upon my child’s head-piece.———It would not have been a +cherry-stone the worse, answered Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—I maintain +it, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, it would have broke the cerebellum +(unless indeed the skull had been as hard as a granado) and turn’d it +all into a perfect posset.———Pshaw! replied Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, a child’s head is naturally as soft as the pap of an +apple;—the sutures give way—and besides, I could have +extracted by the feet after.—Not you, said +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page135" id = "page135">135</a></span> +she.——I rather wish you would begin that way, quoth my +father.</p> + +<p>Pray do, added my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXVII" id = "bookIII_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">And</span> pray, good woman, +after all, will you take upon you to say, it may not be the child’s hip, +as well as the child’s head?———’Tis most certainly the +head, replied the midwife. <ins class = "correction" +title = ", missing">Because,</ins> continued Dr. <i>Slop</i> (turning to my father) +as positive as these old ladies generally are—’tis a point very +difficult to know—and yet of the greatest consequence to be +known;——because, Sir, if the hip is mistaken for the +head—there is a possibility (if it is a boy) that the forceps +* * * * * *</p> + +<p>——What the possibility was, Dr. <i>Slop</i> whispered +very low to my father, and then to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——There is no such danger, continued he, with +the head.—No, in truth, quoth my father—but when your +possibility has taken place at the hip—you may as well take off +the head too.</p> + +<p>——It is morally impossible the reader should understand +this——’tis enough Dr. <i>Slop</i> understood +it;——so taking the green bays bag in his hand, with the help +of <i>Obadiah’s</i> pumps, he tripp’d pretty nimbly, for a man of his +size, across the room to the door———and from the door +was shewn the way, by the good old midwife, to my mother’s +apartments.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXVIII" id = "bookIII_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is two hours, and ten +minutes—and no more—cried my father, looking at his watch, +since Dr. <i>Slop</i> and <i>Obadiah</i> arrived—and I know not +how it happens, brother <i>Toby</i>—but to my imagination it seems +almost an age.</p> + +<p>——Here—pray, Sir, take hold of my cap—nay, +take the bell along with it, and my pantoufles too.</p> + +<p>Now, Sir, they are all at your service; and I freely make you a +present of ’em, on condition you give me all your attention to this +chapter.</p> + +<p>Though my father said, “<i>he knew not how it +happen’d</i>,”—yet he knew very well how it +happen’d;——and at the instant he spoke it, was +pre-determined in his mind to give my uncle <i>Toby</i> a clear account +of the matter by a metaphysical dissertation upon the subject of +<i>duration and its simple modes</i>, in order to +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page136" id = "page136">136</a></span> +shew my uncle <i>Toby</i> by what mechanism and mensurations in the +brain it came to pass, that the rapid succession of their ideas, and the +eternal scampering of the discourse from one thing to another, since Dr. +<i>Slop</i> had come into the room, had lengthened out so short a period +to so inconceivable an extent.——“I know not how it +happens—cried my father,—but it seems an age.”</p> + +<p>——’Tis owing entirely, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to the +succession of our ideas.</p> + +<p>My father, who had an itch, in common with all philosophers, of +reasoning upon everything which happened, and accounting for it +too—proposed infinite pleasure to himself in this, of the +succession of ideas, and had not the least apprehension of having it +snatch’d out of his hands by my uncle <i>Toby</i>, who (honest man!) +generally took everything as it happened;——and who, of all +things in the world, troubled his brain the least with abstruse +thinking;—the ideas of time and space—or how we came by +those ideas—or of what stuff they were made——or +whether they were born with us—or we picked them up afterwards as +we went along—or whether we did it in frocks——or not +till we had got into breeches—with a thousand other inquiries and +disputes about <span class = "smallroman">INFINITY</span>, <span class = +"smallroman">PRESCIENCE</span>, <span class = +"smallroman">LIBERTY</span>, <span class = +"smallroman">NECESSITY</span>, and so forth, upon whose desperate and +unconquerable theories so many fine heads have been turned and +cracked——never did my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> the least injury +at all; my father knew it—and was no less surprized than he was +disappointed, with my uncle’s fortuitous solution.</p> + +<p>Do you understand the theory of that affair? replied my father.</p> + +<p>Not I, quoth my uncle.</p> + +<p>—But you have some ideas, said my father, of what you talk +about?—</p> + +<p>No more than my horse, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>Gracious heaven! cried my father, looking upwards, and clasping his +two hands together——there is a worth in thy honest +ignorance, brother <i>Toby</i>——’twere almost a pity to +exchange it for a knowledge.—But I’ll tell <span class = +"locked">thee.——</span></p> + +<p>To understand what <i>time</i> is aright, without which we never can +comprehend <i>infinity</i>, insomuch as one is a portion of the +other——we ought seriously to sit down and consider what idea +it is we have of <i>duration</i>, so as to give a satisfactory account +how we came by it.——What is that to anybody? quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>. <a class = "tag" name = "tag_3_3" id = "tag_3_3" href = +"#note_3_3">3</a><i>For if you will turn your eyes inwards upon your +mind</i>, continued my father, <i>and observe attentively, you will +perceive, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page137" id = "page137">137</a></span> +brother, that whilst you and I are talking together, and thinking, and +smoking our pipes, or whilst we receive successively ideas in our minds, +we know that we do exist, and so we estimate the existence, or the +continuation of the existence of ourselves, or anything else, +commensurate to the succession of any ideas in our minds, the duration +of ourselves, or any such other thing co-existing with our +thinking——and so according to that +preconceived</i>———You puzzle me to death, cried my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>———’Tis owing to this, replied my father, that in +our computations of <i>time</i>, we are so used to minutes, hours, +weeks, and months——and of clocks (I wish there was not +a clock in the kingdom) to measure out their several portions to us, and +to those who belong to us——that ’twill be well, if in time +to come, the <i>succession of our ideas</i> be of any use or service to +us at all.</p> + +<p>Now, whether we observe it or no, continued my father, in every sound +man’s head, there is a regular succession of ideas of one sort or other, +which follow each other in train just +like———A train of artillery? said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——A train of a fiddle-stick!—quoth my +father—which follow and succeed one another in our minds at +certain distances, just like the images in the inside of a lanthorn +turned round by the heat of a candle.—I declare, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, mine are more like a +smoak-jack.———Then, brother <i>Toby</i>, I have +nothing more to say to you upon that subject, said my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXIX" id = "bookIII_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">What</span> a conjecture was +here lost!——My father in one of his best explanatory +moods—in eager pursuit of a metaphysical point into the very +regions, where clouds and thick darkness would soon have encompassed it +about;—my uncle <i>Toby</i> in one of the finest dispositions for +it in the world;—his head like a smoak-jack;——the +funnel unswept, and the ideas whirling round and round about in it, all +obfuscated and darkened over with fuliginous matter!—By the +tomb-stone of <i>Lucian</i>——if it is in +being——if not, why then by his ashes! by the ashes of my +dear <i>Rabelais</i>, and dearer +<i>Cervantes!</i>———my father and my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> discourse upon <span class = "smallroman">TIME</span> and +<span class = "smallroman">ETERNITY</span>——was a discourse +devoutly to be wished for! and the petulancy of my father’s humour, in +putting a stop to it as he did, was a robbery of the <i>Ontologic +Treasury</i> of such a jewel, as no coalition of great occasions and +great men are ever likely to restore to it again.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page138" id = "page138">138</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXX" id = "bookIII_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Tho</span>’ my father persisted in not +going on with the discourse—yet he could not get my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> smoak-jack out of his head—piqued as he was at first +with it;—there was something in the comparison at the bottom, +which hit his fancy; for which purpose, resting his elbow upon the +table, and reclining the right side of his head upon the palm of his +hand——but looking first stedfastly in the +fire——he began to commune with himself, and philosophize +about it: but his spirits being wore out with the fatigues of +investigating new tracts, and the constant exertion of his faculties +upon that variety of subjects which had taken their turn in the +discourse———the idea of the smoak-jack soon turned all +his ideas upside down—so that he fell asleep almost before he knew +what he was about.</p> + +<p>As for my uncle <i>Toby</i>, his smoak-jack had not made a dozen +revolutions, before he fell asleep also.——Peace be with them +both!——Dr. <i>Slop</i> is engaged with the midwife and my +mother above stairs.——<i>Trim</i> is busy in turning an old +pair of jackboots into a couple of mortars, to be employed in the siege +of <i>Messina</i> next summer—and is this instant boring the +touch-holes with the point of a hot poker.——All my heroes +are off my hands;—’tis the first time I have had a moment to +spare—and I’ll make use of it, and write my preface.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_preface" id = "bookIII_preface"> +THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">No</span>, I’ll not say a word about +it——here it is;—in publishing it—I have +appealed to the world——and to the world I leave it;—it +must speak for itself.</p> + +<p>All I know of the matter is—when I sat down, my intent was to +write a good book; and as far as the tenuity of my understanding would +hold out—a wise, aye, and a discreet—taking care only, +as I went along, to put into it all the wit and the judgment (be it +more or less) which the great Author and Bestower of them had thought +fit originally to give me———so that, as your worships +see—’tis just as God pleases.</p> + +<p>Now, <i>Agelastes</i> (speaking dispraisingly) sayeth, That there may +be some wit in it, for aught he knows——but no judgment at +all. And <i>Triptolemus</i> and <i>Phutatorius</i> agreeing thereto, +ask, How is it possible there should? for that wit and judgment in +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page139" id = "page139">139</a></span> +this world never go together; inasmuch as they are two operations +differing from each other as wide as east from +west———So, says <i>Locke</i>——so are +farting and hickuping, say I. But in answer to this, <i>Didius</i> +the great church lawyer, in his code <i>de fartendi et illustrandi +fallaciis</i>, doth maintain and make fully appear, That an illustration +is no argument——nor do I maintain the wiping of a +looking-glass clean to be a syllogism;——but you all, may it +please your worships, see the better for it———so that +the main good these things do is only to clarify the understanding, +previous to the application of the argument itself, in order to free it +from any little motes, or specks of opacular matter, which, if left +swimming therein, might hinder a conception and spoil all.</p> + +<p>Now, my dear anti-Shandeans, and thrice able criticks, and +fellow-labourers (for to you I write this +Preface)———and to you, most subtle statesmen and +discreet doctors (do—pull off your beards) renowned for gravity +and wisdom;——<i>Monopolus</i>, my +politician—<i>Didius</i>, my counsel; <i>Kysarcius</i>, my +friend;—<i>Phutatorius</i>, my +guide;——<i>Gastripheres</i>, the preserver of my life; +<i>Somnolentius</i>, the balm and repose of it——not +forgetting all others, as well sleeping as waking, ecclesiastical as +civil, whom for brevity, but out of no resentment to you, I lump +all together.———Believe me, right worthy,</p> + +<p>My most zealous wish and fervent prayer in your behalf, and in my own +too, in case the thing is not done already for us——is, that +the great gifts and endowments both of wit and judgment, with everything +which usually goes along with them———such as memory, +fancy, genius, eloquence, quick parts, and what not, may this precious +moment, without stint or measure, let or hindrance, be poured down warm +as each of us could bear it—scum and sediment and all (for I would +not have a drop lost) into the several receptacles, cells, cellules, +domiciles, dormitories, refectories, and spare places of our +brains———in such sort, that they might continue to be +injected and tunn’d into, according to the true intent and meaning of my +wish, until every vessel of them, both great and small, be so +replenish’d, saturated, and filled up therewith, that no more, would it +save a man’s life, could possibly be got either in or out.</p> + +<p>Bless us!—what noble work we should make!——how +should I tickle it off!——and what spirits should I find +myself in, to be writing away for such readers!——and +you—just heaven!——with what raptures would you sit and +read—but oh!—’tis too much——I am +sick——I faint away deliciously at the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page140" id = "page140">140</a></span> +thoughts of it—’tis more than nature can bear!—lay hold of +me——I am giddy—I am stone blind—I’m +dying—I am gone.—Help! Help! Help!—But +hold—I grow something better again, for I am beginning to +foresee, when this is over, that as we shall all of us continue to be +great wits—we should never agree amongst ourselves, one day to an +end:——there would be so much satire and +sarcasm——scoffing and flouting, with raillying and +reparteeing of it—thrusting and parrying in one corner or +another——there would be nothing but mischief among +us——Chaste stars! what biting and scratching, and what a +racket and a clatter we should make, what with breaking of heads, +rapping of knuckles, and hitting of sore places—there would be no +such thing as living for us.</p> + +<p>But then again, as we should all of us be men of great judgment, we +should make up matters as fast as ever they went wrong; and though we +should abominate each other ten times worse than so many devils or +devilesses, we should nevertheless, my dear creatures, be all courtesy +and kindness, milk and honey—’twould be a second land of +promise—a paradise upon earth, if there was such a thing to +be had—so that upon the whole we should have done well enough.</p> + +<p>All I fret and fume at, and what most distresses my invention at +present, is how to bring the point itself to bear; for as your worships +well know, that of these heavenly emanations of <i>wit</i> and +<i>judgment</i>, which I have so bountifully wished both for your +worships and myself—there is but a certain <i>quantum</i> stored +up for us all, for the use and behoof of the whole race of mankind; and +such small <i>modicums</i> of ’em are only sent forth into this wide +world, circulating here and there in one bye corner or another—and +in such narrow streams, and at such prodigious intervals from each +other, that one would wonder how it holds out, or could be sufficient +for the wants and emergencies of so many great estates, and populous +empires.</p> + +<p>Indeed there is one thing to be considered, that in <i>Nova +Zembla</i>, <i>North Lapland</i>, and in all those cold and dreary +tracts of the globe, which lie more directly under the arctick and +antarctick circles, where the whole province of a man’s concernments +lies for near nine months together within the narrow compass of his +cave—where the spirits are compressed almost to nothing—and +where the passions of a man, with everything which belongs to them, are +as frigid as the zone itself—there the least quantity of +<i>judgment</i> imaginable does the business—and of +<i>wit</i>——there is a total and an absolute +saving—for as +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page141" id = "page141">141</a></span> +not one spark is wanted—so not one spark is given. Angels and +ministers of grace defend us! what a dismal thing would it have been to +have governed a kingdom, to have fought a battle, or made a treaty, or +run a match, or wrote a book, or got a child, or held a provincial +chapter there, with so <i>plentiful a lack</i> of wit and judgment about +us! For mercy’s sake, let us think no more about it, but travel on as +fast as we can southwards into <i>Norway</i>—crossing over +<i>Swedeland</i>, if you please, through the small triangular province +of <i>Angermania</i> to the lake of <i>Bothnia</i>; coasting along it +through east and west <i>Bothnia</i>, down to <i>Carelia</i>, and so on, +through all those states and provinces which border upon the far side of +the <i>Gulf of Finland</i>, and the north-east of the <i>Baltick</i>, up +to <i>Petersbourg</i>, and just stepping into <i>Ingria</i>;—then +stretching over directly from thence through the north parts of the +<i>Russian</i> empire—leaving <i>Siberia</i> a little upon the +left hand, till we got into the very heart of <i>Russian</i> and +<i>Asiatick Tartary</i>.</p> + +<p>Now throughout this long tour which I have led you, you observe the +good people are better off by far, than in the polar countries which we +have just left:—for if you hold your hand over your eyes, and look +very attentively, you may perceive some small glimmerings (as it +were) of wit, with a comfortable provision of good plain +<i>household</i> judgment, which, taking the quality and quantity of it +together, they make a very good shift with———and had +they more of either the one or the other, it would destroy the proper +balance betwixt them, and I am satisfied moreover they would want +occasions to put them to use.</p> + +<p>Now, Sir, if I conduct you home again into this warmer and more +luxuriant island, where you perceive the spring-tide of our blood and +humours runs high———where we have more ambition, and +pride, and envy, and lechery, and other whoreson passions upon our hands +to govern and subject to reason———the <i>height</i> of +our wit, and the <i>depth</i> of our judgment, you see, are exactly +proportioned to the <i>length</i> and <i>breadth</i> of our +necessities———and accordingly we have them sent down +amongst us in such a flowing kind of descent and creditable plenty, that +no one thinks he has any cause to complain.</p> + +<p>It must however be confessed on this head, that, as our air blows hot +and cold—wet and dry, ten times in a day, we have them in no +regular and settled way;—so that sometimes for near half a century +together, there shall be very little wit or judgment either to be seen +or heard of amongst us:——the small channels +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page142" id = "page142">142</a></span> +of them shall seem quite dried up——then all of a sudden the +sluices shall break out, and take a fit of running again like +fury——you would think they would never +stop:——and then it is, that in writing, and fighting, and +twenty other gallant things, we drive all the world before us.</p> + +<p>It is by these observations, and a wary reasoning by analogy in that +kind of argumentative process, which <i>Suidas</i> calls <i>dialectick +induction</i>———that I draw and set up this position +as most true and veritable;</p> + +<p>That of these two luminaries so much of their irradiations are +suffered from time to time to shine down upon us, as he, whose infinite +wisdom which dispenses everything in exact weight and measure, knows +will just serve to light us on our way in this night of our obscurity; +so that your reverences and worships now find out, nor is it a moment +longer in my power to conceal it from you, That the fervent wish in your +behalf with which I set out, was no more than the first insinuating +<i>How d’ye</i> of a caressing prefacer, stifling his reader, as a lover +sometimes does a coy mistress, into silence. For alas! could this +effusion of light have been as easily procured, as the exordium wished +it—I tremble to think how many thousands for it, of benighted +travellers (in the learned sciences at least) must have groped and +blundered on in the dark, all the nights of their +lives——running their heads against posts, and knocking out +their brains without ever getting to their journies +end;——some falling with their noses perpendicularly into +sinks——others horizontally with their tails into kennels. +Here one half of a learned profession tilting full but against the other +half of it, and then tumbling and rolling one over the other in the dirt +like hogs.—Here the brethren of another profession, who should +have run in opposition to each other, flying on the contrary like a +flock of wild geese, all in a row the same way.—What +confusion!—what mistakes!——fiddlers and painters +judging by their eyes and ears—admirable!—trusting to the +passions excited—in an air sung, or a story painted to the +heart——instead of measuring them by a quadrant.</p> + +<p>In the fore-ground of this picture, a <i>statesman</i> turning the +political wheel, like a brute, the wrong way +round——<i>against</i> the stream of corruption—by +Heaven!——instead of <i>with</i> it.</p> + +<p>In this corner, a son of the divine <i>Esculapius</i>, writing a book +against predestination; perhaps worse—feeling his patient’s pulse, +instead of his apothecary’s——a brother of the Faculty +in the back-ground upon his knees in tears—drawing the curtains +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page143" id = "page143">143</a></span> +of a mangled victim to beg his forgiveness;—offering a +fee—instead of taking one.</p> + +<p>In that spacious <span class = "smallroman">HALL</span>, a coalition +of the gown, from all the bars of it, driving a damn’d, dirty, vexatious +cause before them, with all their might and main, the wrong +way!——kicking it <i>out</i> of the great doors, instead of +<i>in</i>——and with such fury in their looks, and such a +degree of inveteracy in their manner of kicking it, as if the laws had +been originally made for the peace and preservation of +mankind:——perhaps a more enormous mistake committed by them +still———a litigated point fairly hung +up;———for instance, Whether <i>John o’Nokes</i> his +nose could stand in <i>Tom o’Stiles</i> his face, without a trespass, or +not—rashly determined by them in five-and-twenty minutes, which, +with the cautious pros and cons required in so intricate a proceeding, +might have taken up as many months——and if carried on upon a +military plan, as your honours know an <span class = +"smallroman">ACTION</span> should be, with all the stratagems +practicable therein,———such as +feints,——forced +marches,——surprizes——ambuscades——mask-batteries, +and a thousand other strokes of generalship, which consist in catching +at all advantages on both sides———might reasonably +have lasted them as many years, finding food and raiment all that term +for a centumvirate of the profession.</p> + +<p>As for the Clergy———No——if I say a word +against them, I’ll be shot.——I have no +desire;—and besides, if I had—I durst not for my soul +touch upon the subject——with such weak nerves and spirits, +and in the condition I am in at present, ’twould be as much as my life +was worth, to deject and contrist myself with so bad and melancholy an +account—and therefore ’tis safer to draw a curtain across, and +hasten from it, as fast as I can, to the main and principal point I have +undertaken to clear up——and that is, How it comes to pass, +that your men of least <i>wit</i> are reported to be men of most +judgment.——But mark—I say, <i>reported to +be</i>—for it is no more, my dear Sirs, than a report, and which, +like twenty others taken up every day upon trust, I maintain to be +a vile and a malicious report into the bargain.</p> + +<p>This by the help of the observation already premised, and I hope +already weighed and perpended by your reverences and worships, +I shall forthwith make appear.</p> + +<p>I hate set dissertations——and above all things in the +world, ’tis one of the silliest things in one of them, to darken your +hypothesis by placing a number of tall, opake words, one before another, +in a right line, betwixt your own and your reader’s +conception—when in all likelihood, if you had looked about, you +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page144" id = "page144">144</a></span> +might have seen something standing, or hanging up, which would have +cleared the point at once—“for what hindrance, hurt, or harm doth +the laudable desire of knowledge bring to any man, if even from a sot, +a pot, a fool, a stool, a winter-mittain, +a truckle for a pully, the lid of a goldsmith’s crucible, an oil +bottle, an old slipper, or a cane chair?”—I am this moment +sitting upon one. Will you give me leave to illustrate this affair of +wit and judgment, by the two knobs on the top of the back of +it?—they are fastened on, you see, with two pegs stuck slightly +into two gimlet-holes, and will place what I have to say in so clear a +light, as to let you see through the drift and meaning of my whole +preface, as plainly as if every point and particle of it was made up of +sun-beams.</p> + +<p>I enter now directly upon the point.</p> + +<p>—Here stands <i>wit</i>—and there stands <i>judgment</i>, +close beside it, just like the two knobs I’m speaking of, upon the back +of this self-same chair on which I am sitting.</p> + +<p>—You see, they are the highest and most ornamental parts of its +<i>frame</i>—as wit and judgment are of <i>ours</i>—and like +them too, indubitably both made and fitted to go together, in order, as +we say in all such cases of duplicated +embellishments————<i>to answer one +another</i>.</p> + +<p>Now for the sake of an experiment, and for the clearer illustrating +this matter—let us for a moment take off one of these two curious +ornaments (I care not which) from the point or pinnacle of the +chair it now stands on—nay, don’t laugh at it,—but did you +ever see, in the whole course of your lives, such a ridiculous business +as this has made of it?—Why, ’tis as miserable a sight as a sow +with one ear; and there is just as much sense and symmetry in the one as +in the other:——do——pray, get off your seats only +to take a view of it.——Now would any man who valued his +character a straw, have turned a piece of work out of his hand in such a +condition?—nay, lay your hands upon your hearts, and answer this +plain question, Whether this one single knob, which now stands here like +a blockhead by itself, can serve any purpose upon earth, but to put one +in mind of the want of the other?—and let me farther ask, in case +the chair was your own, if you would not in your consciences think, +rather than be as it is, that it would be ten times better without any +knob at all?</p> + +<p>Now these two knobs———or top ornaments of the mind +of man, which crown the whole entablature——being, as I said, +wit and judgment, which of all others, as I have proved it, are +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page145" id = "page145">145</a></span> +the most needful——the most priz’d—the most calamitous +to be without, and consequently the hardest to come at—for all +these reasons put together, there is not a mortal among us, so destitute +of a love of good fame or feeding——or so ignorant of what +will do him good therein—who does not wish and stedfastly resolve +in his own mind, to be, or to be thought at least, master of the one or +the other, and indeed of both of them, if the thing seems any way +feasible, or likely to be brought to pass.</p> + +<p>Now your graver gentry having little or no kind of chance in aiming +at the one—unless they laid hold of the other,——pray +what do you think would become of them?——Why, Sirs, in spite +of all their <i>gravities</i>, they must e’en have been contented to +have gone with their insides naked——this was not to be +borne, but by an effort of philosophy not to be supposed in the case we +are upon——so that no one could well have been angry with +them, had they been satisfied with what little they could have snatched +up and secreted under their cloaks and great perriwigs, had they not +raised a <i>hue</i> and <i>cry</i> at the same time against the lawful +owners.</p> + +<p>I need not tell your worships, that this was done with so much +cunning and artifice——that the great <i>Locke</i>, who was +seldom outwitted by false sounds———was nevertheless +bubbled here. The cry, it seems, was so deep and solemn a one, and what +with the help of great wigs, grave faces, and other implements of +deceit, was rendered so general a one against the <i>poor wits</i> in +this matter, that the philosopher himself was deceived by it—it +was his glory to free the world from the lumber of a thousand vulgar +errors;——but this was not of the number; so that instead of +sitting down coolly, as such a philosopher should have done, to have +examined the matter of fact before he philosophised upon +it——on the contrary he took the fact for granted, and so +joined in with the cry, and halloo’d it as boisterously as the rest.</p> + +<p>This has been made the <i>Magna Charta</i> of stupidity ever +since——but your reverences plainly see, it has been obtained +in such a manner, that the title to it is not worth a +groat:——which by the bye is one of the many and vile +impositions which gravity and grave folks have to answer for +hereafter.</p> + +<p>As for great wigs, upon which I may be thought to have spoken my mind +too freely———I beg leave to qualify whatever has +been unguardedly said to their dispraise or prejudice, by one general +declaration——That I have no abhorrence whatever, nor do I +detest and abjure either great wigs or long beards, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page146" id = "page146">146</a></span> +any farther than when I see they are bespoke and let grow on purpose to +carry on this self-same imposture—for any +purpose——peace be with them!—<img src = +"images/finger.gif" width = "30" height = "13" alt = "-->" /> mark +only——I write not for them.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXI" id = "bookIII_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Every</span> day for at least ten years +together did my father resolve to have it mended—’tis not mended +yet;—no family but ours would have borne with it an +hour——and what is most astonishing, there was not a subject +in the world upon which my father was so eloquent, as upon that of +door-hinges.——And yet at the same time, he was certainly one +of the greatest bubbles to them, I think, that history can produce: +his rhetorick and conduct were at perpetual handy-cuffs.—Never did +the parlour-door open—but his philosophy or his principles fell a +victim to it;——three drops of oil with a feather, and a +smart stroke of a hammer, had saved his honour for ever.</p> + +<p>——Inconsistent soul that man is!——languishing +under wounds, which he has the power to heal!—his whole life a +contradiction to his knowledge!—his reason, that precious gift of +God to him—(instead of pouring in oil) serving but to sharpen his +sensibilities—to multiply his pains, and render him more +melancholy and uneasy under them—Poor unhappy creature, that he +should do so!——Are not the necessary causes of misery in +this life enow, but he must add voluntary ones to his stock of +sorrow;—struggle against evils which cannot be avoided, and submit +to others, which a tenth part of the trouble they create him would +remove from his heart for ever?</p> + +<p>By all that is good and virtuous, if there are three drops of oil to +be got, and a hammer to be found within ten miles of <i>Shandy +Hall</i>———the parlour door hinge shall be mended this +reign.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXII" id = "bookIII_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> Corporal <i>Trim</i> had +brought his two mortars to bear, he was delighted with his handy-work +above measure; and knowing what a pleasure it would be to his master to +see them, he was not able to resist the desire he had of carrying them +directly into his parlour.</p> + +<p>Now next to the moral lesson I had in view in mentioning +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page147" id = "page147">147</a></span> +the affair of <i>hinges</i>, I had a speculative consideration arising +out of it, and it is this.</p> + +<p>Had the parlour door opened and turn’d upon its hinges, as a door +should <span class = "locked">do—</span></p> + +<p>Or for example, as cleverly as our government has been turning upon +its hinges——(that is, in case things have all along gone +well with your worship,—otherwise I give up my simile)—in +this case, I say, there had been no danger either to master or man, +in Corporal <i>Trim’s</i> peeping in: the moment he had beheld my father +and my uncle <i>Toby</i> fast asleep—the respectfulness of his +carriage was such, he would have retired as silent as death, and left +them both in their arm-chairs, dreaming as happy as he had found them: +but the thing was, morally speaking, so very impracticable, that for the +many years in which this hinge was suffered to be out of order, and +amongst the hourly grievances my father submitted to upon its +account—this was one; that he never folded his arms to take his +nap after dinner, but the thoughts of being unavoidably awakened by the +first person who should open the door, was always uppermost in his +imagination, and so incessantly stepp’d in betwixt him and the first +balmy presage of his repose, as to rob him, as he often declared, of the +whole sweets of it.</p> + +<p>“<i>When things move upon bad hinges</i>, an’ please your lordships, +<i>how can it be otherwise?</i>”</p> + +<p>Pray what’s the matter? Who is there? cried my father, waking, the +moment the door began to creak.——I wish the smith would +give a peep at that confounded hinge.——’Tis nothing, an’ +please your honour, said <i>Trim</i>, but two mortars I am bringing +in.—They shan’t make a clatter with them here, cried my father +hastily.—If Dr. <i>Slop</i> has any drugs to pound, let him do it +in the kitchen.—May it please your honour, cried <i>Trim</i>, they +are two mortar-pieces for a siege next summer, which I have been making +out of a pair of jack-boots, which <i>Obadiah</i> told me your honour +had left off wearing.—By Heaven! cried my father, springing out of +his chair, as he swore——I have not one appointment +belonging to me, which I set so much store by as I do by these +jack-boots——they were our great grandfather’s, brother +<i>Toby</i>—they were <i>hereditary</i>. Then I fear, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, <i>Trim</i> has cut off the entail.—I have +only cut off the tops, an’ please your honour, cried +<i>Trim</i>——I hate <i>perpetuities</i> as much as any +man alive, cried my father——but these jack-boots, continued +he (smiling, though very angry at the same time) have been in the +family, brother, ever since the civil wars;——Sir +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page148" id = "page148">148</a></span> +<i>Roger Shandy</i> wore them at the battle of +<i>Marston-Moor</i>.—I declare I would not have taken ten pounds +for them.——I’ll pay you the money, brother <i>Shandy</i>, +quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking at the two mortars with infinite +pleasure, and putting his hand into his breeches pocket as he viewed +them——I’ll pay you the ten pounds this moment with all my +heart and <span class = "locked">soul.——</span></p> + +<p>Brother <i>Toby</i>, replied my father, altering his tone, you care +not what money you dissipate and throw away, provided, continued he, +’tis but upon a <span class = +"smallroman">SIEGE</span>.——Have I not one hundred and +twenty pounds a year, besides my half pay? cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.—What is that—replied my father hastily—to +ten pounds for a pair of jack-boots?—twelve guineas for your +<i>pontoons?</i>—half as much for your <i>Dutch</i> +draw-bridge?—to say nothing of the train of little brass artillery +you bespoke last week, with twenty other preparations for the siege of +<i>Messina</i>: believe me, dear brother <i>Toby</i>, continued my +father, taking him kindly by the hand—these military operations of +yours are above your strength;—you mean well, +brother——but they carry you into greater expences than you +were first aware of;—and take my word, dear <i>Toby</i>, they will +in the end quite ruin your fortune, and make a beggar of you.—What +signifies it if they do, brother, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, so long +as we know ’tis for the good of the <span class = +"locked">nation?——</span></p> + +<p>My father could not help smiling for his soul—his anger at the +worst was never more than a spark;—and the zeal and simplicity of +<i>Trim</i>—and the generous (though hobby-horsical) gallantry of +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, brought him into perfect good humour with them in +an instant.</p> + +<p>Generous souls!—God prosper you both, and your mortar-pieces +too! quoth my father to himself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXIII" id = "bookIII_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">All</span> is quiet and hush, cried my +father, at least above stairs—I hear not one foot +stirring.—Prithee, <i>Trim</i>, who’s in the kitchen? There is no +one soul in the kitchen, answered <i>Trim</i>, making a low bow as he +spoke, except Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—Confusion! cried my father (getting +up upon his legs a second time)—not one single thing was gone +right this day! had I faith in astrology, brother (which, by the bye, my +father had), I would have sworn some retrograde planet was hanging +over this unfortunate house of mine, and turning every individual thing +in it out of its place.——Why, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page149" id = "page149">149</a></span> +I thought Dr. <i>Slop</i> had been above stairs with my wife, and so +said you.——What can the fellow be puzzling about in the +kitchen!—He is busy, an’ please your honour, replied <i>Trim</i>, +in making a bridge.——’Tis very obliging in him, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>:———pray, give my humble service to +Dr. <i>Slop</i>, <i>Trim</i>, and tell him I thank him heartily.</p> + +<p>You must know, my uncle <i>Toby</i> mistook the bridge—as +widely as my father mistook the mortars;——but to understand +how my uncle <i>Toby</i> could mistake the bridge—I fear I +must give you an exact account of the road which led to it;—or to +drop my metaphor (for there is nothing more dishonest in an historian +than the use of one)——in order to conceive the probability +of this error in my uncle <i>Toby</i> aright, I must give you some +account of an adventure of <i>Trim’s</i>, though much against my will, +I say much against my will, only because the story, in one sense, +is certainly out of its place here; for by right it should come in, +either amongst the anecdotes of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> amours with widow +<i>Wadman</i>, in which corporal <i>Trim</i> was no mean actor—or +else in the middle of his and my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> campaigns on the +bowling-green—for it will do very well in either place;—but +then if I reserve it for either of those parts of my +story——I ruin the story I’m upon;——and if I +tell it here—I anticipate matters, and ruin it there.</p> + +<p>—What would your worships have me to do in this case?</p> + +<p>—Tell it, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, by all means.—You are a +fool, <i>Tristram</i>, if you do.</p> + +<p>O ye powers! (for powers ye are, and great ones too)—which +enable mortal man to tell a story worth the +hearing———that kindly shew him, where he is to begin +it—and where he is to end it——what he is to put into +it——and what he is to leave out—how much of it he is +to cast into a shade—and whereabouts he is to throw his +light!—Ye, who preside over this vast empire of biographical +freebooters, and see how many scrapes and plunges your subjects hourly +fall into;——will you do one thing?</p> + +<p>I beg and beseech you (in case you will do nothing better +for us) that wherever in any part of your dominions it so falls +out, that three several roads meet in one point, as they have done just +here——that at least you set up a guide-post in the centre of +them, in mere charity, to direct an uncertain devil which of the three +he is to take.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page150" id = "page150">150</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXIV" id = "bookIII_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Tho</span>’ the shock my uncle <i>Toby</i> +received the year after the demolition of <i>Dunkirk</i>, in his affair +with widow <i>Wadman</i>, had fixed him in a resolution never more to +think of the sex—or of aught which belonged to it;—yet +corporal <i>Trim</i> had made no such bargain with himself. Indeed in my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> case there was a strange and unaccountable +concurrence of circumstances, which insensibly drew him in, to lay siege +to that fair and strong citadel.——In <i>Trim’s</i> case +there was a concurrence of nothing in the world, but of him and +<i>Bridget</i> in the kitchen;—though in truth, the love and +veneration he bore his master was such, and so fond was he of imitating +him in all he did, that had my uncle <i>Toby</i> employed his time and +genius in tagging of points——I am persuaded the honest +corporal would have laid down his arms, and followed his example with +pleasure. When therefore my uncle <i>Toby</i> sat down before the +mistress—corporal <i>Trim</i> incontinently took ground before the +maid.</p> + +<p>Now, my dear friend <i>Garrick</i>, whom I have so much cause to +esteem and honour—(why, or wherefore, ’tis no matter)—can it +escape your penetration—I defy it—that so many +playwrights, and opificers of chit-chat have ever since been working +upon <i>Trim’s</i> and my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +pattern.——I care not what <i>Aristotle</i>, or +<i>Pacuvius</i>, or <i>Bossu</i>, or <i>Ricaboni</i> say—(though I +never read one of them)——there is not a greater difference +between a single-horse chair and madam <i>Pompadour’s vis-à-vis</i>; +than betwixt a single amour, and an amour thus nobly doubled, and going +upon all four, prancing throughout a grand drama——Sir, +a simple, single, silly affair of that kind—is quite lost in +five acts;—but that is neither here nor there.</p> + +<p>After a series of attacks and repulses in a course of nine months on +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> quarter, a most minute account of every +particular of which shall be given in its proper place, my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, honest man! found it necessary to draw off his forces and +raise the siege somewhat indignantly.</p> + +<p>Corporal <i>Trim</i>, as I said, had made no such bargain either with +himself——or with any one else——the fidelity +however of his heart not suffering him to go into a house which his +master had forsaken with disgust——he contented himself with +turning his part of the siege into a blockade;—that is, he kept +others off;—for though he never after went to the house, yet he +never +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page151" id = "page151">151</a></span> +met <i>Bridget</i> in the village, but he would either nod or wink, or +smile, or look kindly at her—or (as circumstances directed) +he would shake her by the hand—or ask her lovingly how she +did—or would give her a ribbon—and now-and-then, though +never but when it could be done with decorum, would give <span class = +"locked"><i>Bridget</i> a—</span></p> + +<p>Precisely in this situation, did these things stand for five years; +that is, from the demolition of <i>Dunkirk</i> in the year 13, to the +latter end of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> campaign in the year 18, which was +about six or seven weeks before the time I’m speaking +of.——When <i>Trim</i>, as his custom was, after he had put +my uncle <i>Toby</i> to bed, going down one moonshiny night to see that +everything was right at his fortifications——in the lane +separated from the bowling-green with flowering shrubs and +holly—he espied his <i>Bridget</i>.</p> + +<p>As the corporal thought there was nothing in the world so well worth +shewing as the glorious works which he and my uncle <i>Toby</i> had +made, <i>Trim</i> courteously and gallantly took her by the hand, and +led her in: this was not done so privately, but that the foul-mouth’d +trumpet of Fame carried it from ear to ear, till at length it reach’d my +father’s, with this untoward circumstance along with it, that my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> curious drawbridge, constructed and painted after the +<i>Dutch</i> fashion, and which went quite across the ditch—was +broke down, and somehow or other crushed all to pieces that very +night.</p> + +<p>My father, as you have observed, had no great esteem for my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> hobby-horse, he thought it the most ridiculous horse that +ever gentleman mounted; and indeed unless my uncle <i>Toby</i> vexed him +about it, could never think of it once, without smiling at +it——so that it could never get lame or happen any mischance, +but it tickled my father’s imagination beyond measure; but this being an +accident much more to his humour than any one which had yet befall’n it, +it proved an inexhaustible fund of entertainment to +him.——Well——but dear <i>Toby!</i> my father +would say, do tell me seriously how this affair of the bridge +happened.——How can you tease me so much about it? my uncle +<i>Toby</i> would reply—I have told it you twenty times, word +for word as <i>Trim</i> told it me.—Prithee, how was it then, +corporal? my father would cry, turning to <i>Trim</i>.—It was a +mere misfortune, an’ please your honour;——I was shewing +Mrs. <i>Bridget</i> our fortifications, and in going too near the edge +of the fosse, I unfortunately slipp’d in——Very well, +<i>Trim!</i> my father would cry——(smiling mysteriously, and +giving a nod—but without interrupting him)——and being +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page152" id = "page152">152</a></span> +link’d fast, an’ please your honour, arm in arm with Mrs. +<i>Bridget</i>, I dragg’d her after me, by means of which she fell +backwards soss against the bridge——and <i>Trim’s</i> foot +(my uncle <i>Toby</i> would cry, taking the story out of his mouth) +getting into the cuvette, he tumbled full against the bridge +too.—It was a thousand to one, my uncle <i>Toby</i> would add, +that the poor fellow did not break his leg.———Ay +truly, my father would say——a limb is soon broke, +brother <i>Toby</i>, in such encounters.——And so, an’ please +your honour, the bridge, which your honour knows was a very slight one, +was broke down betwixt us, and splintered all to pieces.</p> + +<p>At other times, but especially when my uncle <i>Toby</i> was so +unfortunate as to say a syllable about cannons, bombs, or +petards—my father would exhaust all the stores of his eloquence +(which indeed were very great) in a panegyric upon the <span class = +"smallroman">BATTERING-RAMS</span> of the ancients—the <span class += "smallroman">VINEA</span> which <i>Alexander</i> made use of at the +siege of <i>Troy</i>.—He would tell my uncle <i>Toby</i> of the +<span class = "smallroman">CATAPULTÆ</span> of the <i>Syrians</i>, which +threw such monstrous stones so many hundred feet, and shook the +strongest bulwarks from their very foundation:—he would go on and +describe the wonderful mechanism of the <span class = +"smallroman">BALLISTA</span> which <i>Marcellinus</i> makes so much rout +about!—the terrible effects of the <span class = +"smallroman">PYROBOLI</span>, which cast fire;——the danger +of the <span class = "smallroman">TEREBRA</span> and <span class = +"smallroman">SCORPIO</span>, which cast javelins.——But what +are these, would he say, to the destructive machinery of corporal +<i>Trim?</i>——Believe me, brother <i>Toby</i>, no bridge, or +bastion, or sally-port, that ever was constructed in this world, can +hold out against such artillery.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> would never attempt any defence against the +force of this ridicule, but that of redoubling the vehemence of smoaking +his pipe; in doing which, he raised so dense a vapour one night after +supper, that it set my father, who was a little phthisical, into a +suffocating fit of violent coughing: my uncle <i>Toby</i> leap’d up +without feeling the pain upon his groin—and, with infinite pity, +stood beside his brother’s chair, tapping his back with one hand, and +holding his head with the other, and from time to time wiping his eyes +with a clean cambrick handkerchief, which he pulled out of his +pocket.——The affectionate and endearing manner in which my +uncle <i>Toby</i> did these little offices—cut my father thro’ his +reins, for the pain he had just been giving him.——May my +brains be knock’d out with a battering-ram or a catapulta, I care +not which, quoth my father to himself—if ever I insult this worthy +soul more!</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page153" id = "page153">153</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXV" id = "bookIII_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> draw-bridge being held +irreparable, <i>Trim</i> was ordered directly to set about +another———but not upon the same model: for cardinal +<i>Alberoni’s</i> intrigues at that time being discovered, and my uncle +<i>Toby</i> rightly foreseeing that a flame would inevitably break out +betwixt <i>Spain</i> and the Empire, and that the operations of the +ensuing campaign must in all likelihood be either in <i>Naples</i> or +<i>Sicily</i>——he determined upon an <i>Italian</i> +bridge—(my uncle <i>Toby</i>, by the bye, was not far out of +his conjectures)——but my father, who was infinitely the +better politician, and took the lead as far of my uncle <i>Toby</i> in +the cabinet, as my uncle <i>Toby</i> took it of him in the +field———convinced him, that if the king of +<i>Spain</i> and the Emperor went together by the ears, <i>England</i> +and <i>France</i> and <i>Holland</i> must, by force of their +pre-engagements, all enter the lists too;——and if so, he +would say, the combatants, brother <i>Toby</i>, as sure as we are alive, +will fall to it again, pell-mell, upon the old prizefighting stage of +<i>Flanders</i>;—then what will you do with your <i>Italian</i> +bridge?</p> + +<p>—We will go on with it then upon the old model, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>When Corporal <i>Trim</i> had about half finished it in that +style——my uncle <i>Toby</i> found out a capital defect in +it, which he had never thoroughly considered before. It turned, it +seems, upon hinges at both ends of it, opening in the middle, one half +of which turning to one side of the fosse, and the other to the other; +the advantage of which was this, that by dividing the weight of the +bridge into two equal portions, it impowered my uncle <i>Toby</i> to +raise it up or let it down with the end of his crutch, and with one +hand, which, as his garrison was weak, was as much as he could well +spare—but the disadvantages of such a construction were +insurmountable;——for by this means, he would say, +I leave one half of my bridge in my enemy’s +possession——and pray of what use is the other?</p> + +<p>The natural remedy for this was, no doubt, to have his bridge fast +only at one end with hinges, so that the whole might be lifted up +together, and stand bolt upright———but that was +rejected for the reason given above.</p> + +<p>For a whole week after he was determined in his mind to have one of +that particular construction which is made to draw back horizontally, to +hinder a passage; and to thrust forwards again +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page154" id = "page154">154</a></span> +to gain a passage—of which sorts your worship might have seen +three famous ones at <i>Spires</i> before its destruction—and one +now at <i>Brisac</i>, if I mistake not;—but my father advising my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, with great earnestness, to have nothing more to do +with thrusting bridges—and my uncle foreseeing moreover that it +would but perpetuate the memory of the Corporal’s misfortune—he +changed his mind for that of the marquis <i>d’Hôpital’s</i> invention, +which the younger <i>Bernouilli</i> has so well and learnedly described, +as your worships may see———<i>Act. Erud. Lips.</i> an. +1695—to these a lead weight is an eternal balance, and keeps watch +as well as a couple of centinels, inasmuch as the construction of them +was a curve line approximating to a cycloid———if not a +cycloid itself.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> understood the nature of a parabola as well as +any man in <i>England</i>—but was not quite such a master of the +cycloid;——he talked however about it every +day——the bridge went not forwards.——We’ll ask +somebody about it, cried my uncle <i>Toby</i> to <i>Trim</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXVI" id = "bookIII_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> <i>Trim</i> came in and told my +father, that Dr. <i>Slop</i> was in the kitchen, and busy in making a +bridge—my uncle <i>Toby</i>——the affair of the +jack-boots having just then raised a train of military ideas in his +brain——took it instantly for granted that Dr. <i>Slop</i> +was making a model of the marquis <i>d’Hôpital’s</i> +bridge.——’Tis very obliging in him, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>;—pray give my humble service to Dr. <i>Slop</i>, +<i>Trim</i>, and tell him I thank him heartily.</p> + +<p>Had my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> head been a <i>Savoyard’s</i> box, and my +father peeping in all the time at one end of it——it could +not have given him a more distinct conception of the operations of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> imagination, than what he had; so, notwithstanding +the catapulta and battering-ram, and his bitter imprecation about them, +he was just beginning to <span class = +"locked">triumph——</span></p> + +<p>When <i>Trim’s</i> answer, in an instant, tore the laurel from his +brows, and twisted it to pieces.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXVII" id = "bookIII_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">This</span> unfortunate +draw-bridge of yours, quoth my father——God bless your +honour, cried <i>Trim</i>, ’tis a bridge for master’s +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page155" id = "page155">155</a></span> +nose.——In bringing him into the world with his vile +instruments, he has crushed his nose, <i>Susannah</i> says, as flat as a +pancake to his face, and he is making a false bridge with a piece of +cotton and a thin piece of whalebone out of <i>Susannah’s</i> stays, to +raise it up.</p> + +<p>——Lead me, brother <i>Toby</i>, cried my father, to my +room this instant.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXVIII" id = "bookIII_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">From</span> the first moment I sat down to +write my life for the amusement of the world, and my opinions for its +instruction, has a cloud insensibly been gathering over my +father.——A tide of little evils and distresses has been +setting in against him.—Not one thing, as he observed himself, has +gone right: and now is the storm thicken’d and going to break, and pour +down full upon his head.</p> + +<p>I enter upon this part of my story in the most pensive and melancholy +frame of mind that ever sympathetic breast was touched +with.——My nerves relax as I tell it.——Every line +I write, I feel an abatement of the quickness of my pulse, and of +that careless alacrity with it, which every day of my life prompts me to +say and write a thousand things I should not.——And this +moment that I last dipp’d my pen into my ink, I could not help +taking notice what a cautious air of sad composure and solemnity there +appear’d in my manner of doing it.——Lord! how different from +the rash jerks and hair-brain’d squirts thou art wont, <i>Tristram</i>, +to transact it with in other humours—dropping thy +pen——spurting thy ink about thy table and thy books—as +if thy pen and thy ink, thy books and furniture cost thee nothing!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXIX" id = "bookIII_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">I won</span>’t go about to +argue the point with you—’tis so——and I am persuaded +of it, madam, as much as can be, “That both man and woman bear pain or +sorrow (and, for aught I know, pleasure too) best in a horizontal +position.”</p> + +<p>The moment my father got up into his chamber, he threw himself +prostrate across the bed in the wildest disorder imaginable, but at the +same time in the most lamentable attitude of a man borne down with +sorrows, that ever the eye of pity dropp’d a +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page156" id = "page156">156</a></span> +tear for.——The palm of his right hand, as he fell upon the +bed, receiving his forehead, and covering the greatest part of both his +eyes, gently sunk down with his head (his elbow giving way backwards) +till his nose touch’d the quilt;——his left arm hung +insensible over the side of the bed, his knuckles reclining upon the +handle of the chamber-pot, which peep’d out beyond the valance—his +right leg (his left being drawn up towards his body) hung half over the +side of the bed, the edge of it pressing upon his shin-bone—He +felt it not. A fix’d, inflexible sorrow took possession of every +line of his face.—He sigh’d once——heaved his breast +often—but uttered not a word.</p> + +<p>An old set-stitch’d chair, valanced and fringed around with +party-coloured worsted bobs, stood at the bed’s head, opposite to the +side where my father’s head reclined.—My uncle <i>Toby</i> sat him +down in it.</p> + +<p>Before an affliction is digested—consolation ever comes too +soon;—and after it is digested—it comes too late: so that +you see, madam, there is but a mark between these two, as fine almost as +a hair, for a comforter to take aim at: my uncle <i>Toby</i> was always +either on this side, or on that of it, and would often say, he believed +in his heart he could as soon hit the longitude; for this reason, when +he sat down in the chair, he drew the curtain a little forwards, and +having a tear at every one’s service——he pull’d out a +cambrick handkerchief——gave a low sigh——but held +his peace.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXX" id = "bookIII_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p>——“<i>All is not gain that is got into the +purse.</i>”—So that notwithstanding my father had the happiness of +reading the oddest books in the universe, and had moreover, in himself, +the oddest way of thinking that ever man in it was bless’d with, yet it +had this drawback upon him after all———that it laid +him open to some of the oddest and most whimsical distresses; of which +this particular one, which he sunk under at present, is as strong an +example as can be given.</p> + +<p>No doubt, the breaking down of the bridge of a child’s nose, by the +edge of a pair of forceps—however scientifically +applied—would vex any man in the world, who was at so much pains +in begetting a child, as my father was—yet it will not account for +the extravagance of his affliction, nor will it justify the unchristian +manner he abandoned and surrendered him self up to.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page157" id = "page157">157</a></span> +<p>To explain this, I must leave him upon the bed for half an +hour—and my uncle <i>Toby</i> in his old fringed chair sitting +beside him.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXI" id = "bookIII_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">I think</span> it a very +unreasonable demand—cried my great-grandfather, twisting up the +paper, and throwing it upon the table.——By this account, +madam, you have but two thousand pounds fortune, and not a shilling +more—and you insist upon having three hundred pounds a year +jointure for <span class = "locked">it.———</span></p> + +<p>—“Because,” replied my great-grandmother, “you have little or +no nose, <span class = "locked">Sir.”—</span></p> + +<p>Now before I venture to make use of the word <i>Nose</i> a second +time—to avoid all confusion in what will be said upon it, in this +interesting part of my story, it may not be amiss to explain my own +meaning, and define, with all possible exactness and precision, what I +would willingly be understood to mean by the term: being of opinion, +that ’tis owing to the negligence and perverseness of writers in +despising this precaution, and to nothing else——that all the +polemical writings in divinity are not as clear and demonstrative as +those upon <i>a Will o’ the Wisp</i>, or any other sound part of +philosophy, and natural pursuit; in order to which, what have you to do, +before you set out, unless you intend to go puzzling on to the day of +judgment——but to give the world a good definition, and stand +to it, of the main word you have most occasion for——changing +it, Sir, as you would a guinea, into small coin?—which +done—let the father of confusion puzzle you, if he can; or put a +different idea either into your head, or your reader’s head, if he knows +how.</p> + +<p>In books of strict morality and close reasoning, such as this I am +engaged in—the neglect is inexcusable; and Heaven is witness, how +the world has revenged itself upon me for leaving so many openings to +equivocal strictures—and for depending so much as I have done, all +along, upon the cleanliness of my readers’ imaginations.</p> + +<p>——Here are two senses, cried <i>Eugenius</i>, as we +walk’d along, pointing with the forefinger of his right hand to the word +<i>Crevice</i>, in the one hundred and seventy-eighth page of the first +volume of this book of books;———here are two +senses—quoth he—And here are two roads, replied I, turning +short upon him——a dirty and a clean +one——which shall we take?—The clean, by all means, +replied <i>Eugenius</i>. <i>Eugenius</i>, said I, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page158" id = "page158">158</a></span> +stepping before him, and laying my hand upon his breast——to +define—is to distrust.——Thus I triumph’d over +<i>Eugenius</i>; but I triumph’d over him as I always do, like a +fool.——’Tis my comfort, however, I am not an obstinate +one: therefore</p> + +<p>I define a nose as follows—intreating only beforehand, and +beseeching my readers, both male and female, of what age, complexion, +and condition soever, for the love of God and their own souls, to guard +against the temptations and suggestions of the devil, and suffer him by +no art or wile to put any other ideas into their minds, than what I put +into my definition—For by the word <i>Nose</i>, throughout all +this long chapter of noses, and in every other part of my work, where +the word <i>Nose</i> occurs—I declare, by that word I mean a +nose, and nothing more, or less.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXII" id = "bookIII_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + + +<p>——“<span class = "firstword">Because</span>,” quoth my +great-grandmother, repeating the words again—“you have little or +no nose, <span class = "locked">Sir.”———</span></p> + +<p>S’death! cried my great-grandfather, clapping his hand upon his +nose,—’tis not so small as that comes to;——’tis a full +inch longer than my father’s.—Now, my great-grandfather’s nose was +for all the world like unto the noses of all the men, women, and +children, whom <i>Pantagruel</i> found dwelling upon the island of <span +class = "smallcaps">Ennasin</span>.———By the way, if +you would know the strange way of getting a-kin amongst so flat-nosed a +people——you must read the book;——find it out +yourself, you never <span class = "locked">can.——</span></p> + +<p>—’Twas shaped, Sir, like an ace of clubs.</p> + +<p>—’Tis a full inch, continued my grandfather, pressing up the +ridge of his nose with his finger and thumb; and repeating his +assertion——’tis a full inch longer, madam, than my +father’s——You must mean your uncle’s, replied my +great-grandmother.</p> + +<p>———My great-grandfather was convinced.—He +untwisted the paper, and signed the article.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXIII" id = "bookIII_chapXXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">What</span> an unconscionable +jointure, my dear, do we pay out of this small estate of ours, quoth my +grandmother to my grandfather.</p> + +<p>My father, replied my grandfather, had no more nose, my dear, saving +the mark, than there is upon the back of my hand.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page159" id = "page159">159</a></span> +<p>—Now, you must know, that my great-grandmother outlived my +grandfather twelve years; so that my father had the jointure to pay, +a hundred and fifty pounds +half-yearly—(on <i>Michaelmas</i> and +<i>Lady-day</i>),—during all that time.</p> + +<p>No man discharged pecuniary obligations with a better grace than my +father.———And as far as a hundred pounds went, he +would fling it upon the table, guinea by guinea, with that spirited jerk +of an honest welcome, which generous souls, and generous souls only, are +able to fling down money: but as soon as ever he enter’d upon the odd +fifty—he generally gave a loud <i>Hem!</i> rubb’d the side of his +nose leisurely with the flat part of his fore +finger——inserted his hand cautiously betwixt his head and +the cawl of his wig—look’d at both sides of every guinea as he +parted with it——and seldom could get to the end of the fifty +pounds, without pulling out his handkerchief, and wiping his +temples.</p> + +<p>Defend me, gracious Heaven! from those persecuting spirits who make +no allowances for these workings within us.—Never—O never +may I lay down in their tents, who cannot relax the engine, and feel +pity for the force of education, and the prevalence of opinions long +derived from ancestors!</p> + +<p>For three generations at least this <i>tenet</i> in favour of long +noses had gradually been taking root in our +family.———<span class = "smallcaps">Tradition</span> +was all along on its side, and <span class = "smallcaps">Interest</span> +was every half-year stepping in to strengthen it; so that the +whimsicality of my father’s brain was far from having the whole honour +of this, as it had of almost all his other strange notions.—For in +a great measure he might be said to have suck’d this in with his +mother’s milk. He did his part however.——If education +planted the mistake (in case it was one) my father watered it, and +ripened it to perfection.</p> + +<p>He would often declare, in speaking his thoughts upon the subject, +that he did not conceive how the greatest family in <i>England</i> could +stand it out against an uninterrupted succession of six or seven short +noses.—And for the contrary reason, he would generally add, That +it must be one of the greatest problems in civil life, where the same +number of long and jolly noses, following one another in a direct line, +did not raise and hoist it up into the best vacancies in the +kingdom.———He would often boast that the <i>Shandy</i> +family rank’d very high in King <i>Harry</i> the VIIIth’s time, but owed +its rise to no state engine—he would say—but to that +only;——but that, like other families, he would +add——it had felt the turn of the wheel, and had never +recovered +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page160" id = "page160">160</a></span> +the blow of my great-grandfather’s nose.——It was an ace of +clubs indeed, he would cry, shaking his head—and as vile a one for +an unfortunate family as ever turn’d up trumps.</p> + +<p>———Fair and softly, gentle +reader!———where is thy fancy carrying +thee?——If there is truth in man, by my great-grandfather’s +nose, I mean the external organ of smelling, or that part of man +which stands prominent in his face——and which painters say, +in good jolly noses and well-proportioned faces, should comprehend a +full third——that is, measured downwards from the setting on +of the <span class = "locked">hair.——</span></p> + +<p>——What a life of it has an author, at this pass!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXIV" id = "bookIII_chapXXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is a singular blessing, that +nature has form’d the mind of man with the same happy backwardness and +renitency against conviction, which is observed in old dogs—“of +not learning new tricks.”</p> + +<p>What a shuttlecock of a fellow would the greatest philosopher that +ever existed be whisk’d into at once, did he read such books, and +observe such facts, and think such thoughts, as would eternally be +making him change sides!</p> + +<p>Now, my father, as I told you last year, detested all this—He +pick’d up an opinion, Sir, as a man in a state of nature picks up an +apple.—It becomes his own—and if he is a man of spirit, he +would lose his life rather than give it up.</p> + +<p>I am aware that <i>Didius</i>, the great civilian, will contest this +point; and cry out against me, Whence comes this man’s right to this +apple? <i>ex confesso</i>, he will say—things were in a state of +nature—The apple, as much <i>Frank’s</i> apple as <i>John’s</i>. +Pray, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, what patent has he to shew for it? and how did +it begin to be his? was it, when he set his heart upon it? or when he +gathered it? or when he chew’d it? or when he roasted it? or when he +peel’d, or when he brought it home? or when he digested?—or when +he——?——For ’tis plain, Sir, if the first picking +up of the apple, made it not his—that no subsequent act could.</p> + +<p>Brother <i>Didius</i>, <i>Tribonius</i> will answer—(now +<i>Tribonius</i> the civilian and church lawyer’s beard being three +inches and a half and three eighths longer than <i>Didius</i> his +beard—I’m glad he takes up the cudgels for me, so I give myself no +farther trouble about the answer).—Brother <i>Didius</i>, +<i>Tribonius</i> will say, it is a +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page161" id = "page161">161</a></span> +decreed case, as you may find it in the fragments of <i>Gregorius</i> +and <i>Hermogines’s</i> codes, and in all the codes from +<i>Justinian’s</i> down to the codes of <i>Louis</i> and <i>Des +Eaux</i>—That the sweat of a man’s brows, and the exsudations of a +man’s brains, are as much a man’s own property as the breeches upon his +backside;—which said exsudations, &c., being dropp’d upon the +said apple by the labour of finding it, and picking it up; and being +moreover indissolubly wasted, and as indissolubly annex’d, by the picker +up, to the thing pick’d up, carried home, roasted, peel’d, eaten, +digested, and so on;——’tis evident that the gatherer of the +apple, in so doing, has mix’d up something which was his own, with the +apple which was not his own, by which means he has acquired a +property;—or, in other words, the apple is <i>John’s</i> +apple.</p> + +<p>By the same learned chain of reasoning my father stood up for all his +opinions; he had spared no pains in picking them up, and the more they +lay out of the common way, the better still was his +title.——No mortal claimed them; they had cost him moreover +as much labour in cooking and digesting as in the case above, so that +they might well and truly be said to be of his own goods and +chattles.—Accordingly he held fast by ’em, both by teeth and +claws—would fly to whatever he could lay his hands on—and, +in a word, would intrench and fortify them round with as many +circumvallations and breast-works, as my uncle <i>Toby</i> would a +citadel.</p> + +<p>There was one plaguy rub in the way of this——the scarcity +of materials to make anything of a defence with, in case of a smart +attack; inasmuch as few men of great genius had exercised their parts in +writing books upon the subject of great noses: by the trotting of my +lean horse, the thing is incredible! and I am quite lost in my +understanding, when I am considering what a treasure of precious time +and talents together has been wasted upon worse subjects—and how +many millions of books in all languages, and in all possible types and +bindings, have been fabricated upon points not half so much tending to +the unity and peace-making of the world. What was to be had, however, he +set the greater store by; and though my father would oft-times sport +with my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> library—which, by the bye, was +ridiculous enough—yet at the very same time he did it, he +collected every book and treatise which had been systematically wrote +upon noses, with as much care as my honest uncle <i>Toby</i> had done +those upon military architecture.——’Tis true, a much +less table would +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page162" id = "page162">162</a></span> +have held them—but that was not thy transgression, my dear <span +class = "locked">uncle.—</span></p> + +<p>Here——but why here——rather than in any other +part of my story——I am not able to +tell:———but here it is———my heart +stops me to pay to thee, my dear uncle <i>Toby</i>, once for all, the +tribute I owe thy goodness.——Here let me thrust my chair +aside, and kneel down upon the ground, whilst I am pouring forth the +warmest sentiment of love for thee, and veneration for the excellency of +thy character, that ever virtue and nature kindled in a nephew’s +bosom.——Peace and comfort rest for evermore upon thy +head!—Thou enviedst no man’s comforts——insultedst no +man’s opinions——Thou blackenedst no man’s +character—devouredst no man’s bread: gently, with faithful +<i>Trim</i> behind thee, didst thou amble round the little circle of thy +pleasures, jostling no creature in thy way:—for each one’s sorrow +thou hadst a tear,—for each man’s need, thou hadst a shilling.</p> + +<p>Whilst I am worth one, to pay a weeder—thy path from thy door +to thy bowling-green shall never be grown up.——Whilst there +is a rood and a half of land in the <i>Shandy</i> family, thy +fortifications, my dear uncle <i>Toby</i>, shall never be +demolish’d.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXV" id = "bookIII_chapXXXV"> +CHAPTER XXXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father’s collection was not +great, but to make amends, it was curious; and consequently he was some +time in making it; he had the great good fortune however, to set off +well, in getting <i>Bruscambille’s</i> prologue upon long noses, almost +for nothing—for he gave no more for <i>Bruscambille</i> than three +half-crowns; owing indeed to the strong fancy which the stall-man saw my +father had for the book the moment he laid his hands upon +it.——There are not three <i>Bruscambilles</i> in +<i>Christendom</i>—said the stall-man, except what are chain’d up +in the libraries of the curious. My father flung down the money as quick +as lightning——took <i>Bruscambille</i> into his +bosom——hied home from <i>Piccadilly</i> to +<i>Coleman</i>-street with it, as he would have hied home with a +treasure, without taking his hand once off from <i>Bruscambille</i> all +the way.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page163" id = "page163">163</a></span> +<p>To those who do not yet know of which gender <i>Bruscambille</i> +is———inasmuch as a prologue upon long noses might +easily be done by either———’twill be no objection +against the simile—to say, That when my father got home, he +solaced himself with <i>Bruscambille</i> after the manner in which, ’tis +ten to one, your worship solaced yourself with your first +mistress———that is, from morning even unto night: +which, by the bye, how delightful soever it may prove to the +inamorato—is of little or no entertainment at all to +by-standers.——Take notice, I go no farther with the +simile—my father’s eye was greater than his appetite—his +zeal greater than his knowledge—he cool’d—his affections +became divided——he got hold of +<i>Prignitz</i>—purchased <i>Scroderus</i>, <i>Andrea Paræus</i>, +<i>Bouchet’s</i> Evening Conferences, and above all, the great and +learned <i>Hafen Slawkenbergius</i>; of which, as I shall have much to +say by and by—I will say nothing now.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXVI" id = "bookIII_chapXXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Of</span> all the tracts my father was at +the pains to procure and study in support of his hypothesis, there was +not any one wherein he felt a more cruel disappointment at first, than +in the celebrated dialogue between <i>Pamphagus</i> and <i>Cocles</i>, +written by the chaste pen of the great and venerable <i>Erasmus</i>, +upon the various uses and seasonable applications of long +noses.———Now don’t let Satan, my dear girl, in this +chapter, take advantage of any one spot of rising ground to get astride +of your imagination, if you can any ways help it; or if he is so nimble +as to slip on—let me beg of you, like an unback’d filly, <i>to +frisk it, to squirt it, to jump it, to rear it, to bound it—and to +kick it, with long kicks and short kicks</i>, till, like +<i>Tickletoby’s</i> mare, you break a strap or a crupper and throw his +worship into the dirt.—You need not kill <span class = +"locked">him.—</span></p> + +<p>—And pray who was <i>Tickletoby’s</i> mare?—’tis just as +discreditable and unscholarlike a question, Sir, as to have asked what +year (<i>ab. urb. con.</i>) the second Punic war broke +out.—Who was <i>Tickletoby’s</i> mare?——Read, read, +read, read, my unlearned reader! read—or by the knowledge of the +great saint <i>Paraleipomenon</i>—I tell you before-hand, you +had better throw +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page164" id = "page164">164</a></span> +down the book at once; for without <i>much reading</i>, by which your +reverence knows I mean <i>much knowledge</i>, you will no more be able +to penetrate the moral of the next marbled page (motly emblem of my +work!) than the world with all its sagacity has been able to unravel the +many opinions, transactions, and truths which still lie mystically hid +under the dark veil of the black one.</p> + +<div class = "page"> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page165" id = "page165">165</a></span> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pg165.jpg" width = "333" height = "549" +alt = "marbled page" /></p> + +</div> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page166" id = "page166">166</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXVII" id = "bookIII_chapXXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXXVII</a></h4> + + +<p>“<i>Nihil me pœnitet hujus nasi</i>,” quoth +<i>Pamphagus</i>;——that is—“My nose has been the +making of me.”—————“<i>Nec est cur +pœniteat</i>,” replies <i>Cocles</i>; that is, “How the duce should such +a nose fail?”</p> + +<p>The doctrine, you see, was laid down by <i>Erasmus</i>, as my father +wished it, with the utmost plainness; but my father’s disappointment +was, in finding nothing more from so able a pen, but the bare fact +itself; without any of that speculative subtilty or ambidexterity of +argumentation upon it, which Heaven had bestow’d upon man on purpose to +investigate truth, and fight for her on all sides.——My +father pish’d and pugh’d at first most terribly———’tis +worth something to have a good name. As the dialogue was of +<i>Erasmus</i>, my father soon came to himself, and read it over and +over again with great application, studying every word and every +syllable of it thro’ and thro’ in its most strict and literal +interpretation—he could still make nothing of it, that way. Mayhap +there is more meant, than is said in it, quoth my +father.——Learned men, brother <i>Toby</i>, don’t write +dialogues upon long noses for nothing.———I’ll study +the mystick and the allegorick sense——here is some room to +turn a man’s self in, brother.</p> + +<p>My father read on.———Now I find it needful to +inform your reverences and worships, that besides the many nautical uses +of long noses enumerated by <i>Erasmus</i>, the dialogist affirmeth that +a long nose is not without its domestic conveniencies also; for that in +a case of distress—and for want of a pair of bellows, it will do +excellently well, <i>ad <ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: expected form is ‘excitandum’">ixcitandum</ins> focum</i> +(to stir up the fire).</p> + +<p>Nature had been prodigal in her gifts to my father beyond measure, +and had sown the seeds of verbal criticism as deep within him, as she +had done the seeds of all other knowledge———so that he +had got out his penknife, and was trying experiments upon the sentence, +to see if he could not scratch some better sense into +it.——I’ve got within a single letter, brother <i>Toby</i>, +cried my father, of <i>Erasmus</i> his mystic meaning.—You are +near enough, brother, replied my uncle, in all +conscience.———Pshaw! cried my father, scratching +on——I might as well be seven miles off.—I’ve done +it—said my father, snapping his fingers—See, my dear brother +<i>Toby</i>, how I have mended the sense.——But you have +marr’d a word, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——My father put +on his spectacles——bit his lip———and tore +out the leaf in a passion.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page167" id = "page167">167</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXVIII" id = "bookIII_chapXXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><i>O Slawkenbergius!</i> thou faithful analyzer of my +<i>Disgrazias</i>—thou sad foreteller of so many of the whips and +short turns which in one stage or other of my life have come slap upon +me from the shortness of my nose, and no other cause, that I am +conscious of.—Tell me, <i>Slawkenbergius!</i> what secret impulse +was it? what intonation of voice? whence came it? how did it sound in +thy ears?——art thou sure thou heard’st +it?——which first cried out to +thee———go———go, +<i>Slawkenbergius!</i> dedicate the labours of thy +life——neglect thy pastimes———call forth +all the powers and faculties of thy nature——macerate thyself +in the service of mankind, and write a grand <span class = +"smallroman">FOLIO</span> for them, upon the subject of their noses.</p> + +<p>How the communication was conveyed into <i>Slawkenbergius’s</i> +sensorium——so that <i>Slawkenbergius</i> should know whose +finger touch’d the key—and whose hand it was that blew the +bellows——as <i>Hafen Slawkenbergius</i> has been dead and +laid in his grave above fourscore and ten years———we +can only raise conjectures.</p> + +<p><i>Slawkenbergius</i> was play’d upon, for aught I know, like one of +<i>Whitefield’s</i> disciples——that is, with such a distinct +intelligence, Sir, of which of the two <i>masters</i> it was that had +been practising upon his <i>instrument</i>———as to +make all reasoning upon it needless.</p> + +<p>———For in the account which <i>Hafen +Slawkenbergius</i> gives the world of his motives and occasions for +writing, and spending so many years of his life upon this one +work—towards the end of his prolegomena, which by the bye should +have come first——but the bookbinder has most injudiciously +placed it betwixt the analytical contents of the book, and the book +itself—he informs his reader, that ever since he had arrived at +the age of discernment, and was able to sit down coolly, and consider +within himself the true state and condition of man, and distinguish the +main end and design of his being;——or—to shorten my +translation, for <i>Slawkenbergius’s</i> book is in <i>Latin</i>, and +not a little prolix in this passage—ever since I understood, quoth +<i>Slawkenbergius</i>, any thing——or rather <i>what was +what</i>——and could perceive that the point of long noses +had been too loosely handled by all who had gone +before;——have I, <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, felt a strong +impulse, with a mighty and unresistible call within me, to gird up +myself to this undertaking.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page168" id = "page168">168</a></span> +<p>And to do justice to <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, he has entered the list +with a stronger lance, and taken a much larger career in it than any one +man who had ever entered it before him——and indeed, in many +respects, deserves to be <i>en-nich’d</i> as a prototype for all +writers, of voluminous works at least, to model their books +by——for he has taken in, Sir, the whole +subject—examined every part of it +<i>dialectically</i>———then brought it into full day; +dilucidating it with all the light which either the collision of his own +natural parts could strike—or the profoundest knowledge of the +sciences had impowered him to cast upon it—collating, collecting, +and compiling———begging, borrowing, and stealing, as +he went along, all that had been wrote or wrangled thereupon in the +schools and porticos of the learned: so that <i>Slawkenbergius</i> his +book may properly be considered, not only as a model—but as a +thorough-stitched <span class = "smallroman">DIGEST</span> and regular +institute of <i>noses</i>, comprehending in it all that is or can be +needful to be known about them.</p> + +<p>For this cause it is that I forbear to speak of so many (otherwise) +valuable books and treatises of my father’s collecting, wrote either, +plump upon noses——or collaterally touching +them;———such for instance as <i>Prignitz</i>, now +lying upon the table before me, who with infinite learning, and from the +most candid and scholar-like examination of above four thousand +different skulls, in upwards of twenty charnel-houses in <i>Silesia</i>, +which he had rummaged———has informed us, that the +mensuration and configuration of the osseous or bony parts of human +noses, in any <i>given</i> tract of country, except <i>Crim Tartary</i>, +where they are all crush’d down by the thumb, so that no judgment can be +formed upon them—are much nearer alike, than the world +imagines;—the difference amongst them being, he says, a mere +trifle, not worth taking notice of;——but that the size and +jollity of every individual nose, and by which one nose ranks above +another, and bears a higher price, is owing to the cartilaginous and +muscular parts of it, into whose ducts and sinuses the blood and animal +spirits being impell’d and driven by the warmth and force of the +imagination, which is but a step from it (bating the case of idiots, +whom <i>Prignitz</i>, who had lived many years in <i>Turky</i>, supposes +under the more immediate tutelage of Heaven)—it so happens, and +ever must, says <i>Prignitz</i>, that the excellency of the nose is in a +direct arithmetical proportion to the excellency of the wearer’s +fancy.</p> + +<p>It is for the same reason, that is, because ’tis all comprehended in +<i>Slawkenbergius</i>, that I say nothing likewise of <i>Scroderus</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page169" id = "page169">169</a></span> +(<i>Andrea</i>) who, all the world knows, set himself to oppugn +<i>Prignitz</i> with great violence—proving it in his own way, +first <i>logically</i>, and then by a series of stubborn facts, “That so +far was <i>Prignitz</i> from the truth, in affirming that the fancy +begat the nose, that on the contrary—the nose begat the +fancy.”</p> + +<p>—The learned suspected <i>Scroderus</i> of an indecent sophism +in this—and <i>Prignitz</i> cried out aloud in the dispute, that +<i>Scroderus</i> had shifted the idea upon him——but +<i>Scroderus</i> went on, maintaining his thesis.</p> + +<p>My father was just balancing within himself, which of the two sides +he should take in this affair; when <i>Ambrose Paræus</i> decided it in +a moment, and by overthrowing the systems, both of <i>Prignitz</i> and +<i>Scroderus</i>, drove my father out of both sides of the controversy +at once.</p> + +<p>Be witness———</p> + +<p>I don’t acquaint the learned reader—in saying it, I mention it +only to shew the learned, I know the fact <span class = +"locked">myself———</span></p> + +<p>That this <i>Ambrose Paræus</i> was chief surgeon and nose-mender to +<i>Francis</i> the ninth of <i>France</i>, and in high credit with him +and the two preceding, or succeeding kings (I know not +which)—and that, except in the slip he made in his story of +<i>Taliacotius’s</i> noses, and his manner of setting them on—he +was esteemed by the whole college of physicians at that time, as more +knowing in matters of noses, than any one who had ever taken them in +hand.</p> + +<p>Now <i>Ambrose Paræus</i> convinced my father, that the true and +efficient cause of what had engaged so much the attention of the world, +and upon which <i>Prignitz</i> and <i>Scroderus</i> had wasted so much +learning and fine parts——was neither this nor +that——but that the length and goodness of the nose was owing +simply to the softness and flaccidity in the nurse’s +breast———as the flatness and shortness of +<i>puisne</i> noses was to the firmness and elastic repulsion of the +same organ of nutrition in the hale and lively—which, tho’ happy +for the woman, was the undoing of the child, inasmuch as his nose was so +snubb’d, so rebuff’d, so rebated, and so refrigerated thereby, as never +to arrive <i>ad mensuram suam legitimam</i>;——but that in +case of the flaccidity and softness of the nurse or mother’s +breast—by sinking into it, quoth <i>Paræus</i>, as into so much +butter, the nose was comforted, nourish’d, plump’d up, refresh’d, +refocillated, and set a growing for ever.</p> + +<p>I have but two things to observe of <i>Paræus</i>; first, That he +proves and explains all this with the utmost chastity and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page170" id = "page170">170</a></span> +decorum of expression:—for which may his soul for ever rest in +peace!</p> + +<p>And, secondly, that besides the systems of <i>Prignitz</i> and +<i>Scroderus</i>, which <i>Ambrose Paræus</i> his hypothesis effectually +overthrew—it overthrew at the same time the system of peace and +harmony of our family; and for three days together, not only embroiled +matters between my father and my mother, but turn’d likewise the whole +house and everything in it, except my uncle <i>Toby</i>, quite upside +down.</p> + +<p>Such a ridiculous tale of a dispute between a man and his wife, never +surely in any age or country got vent through the key-hole of a +street-door.</p> + +<p>My mother, you must know———but I have fifty things +more necessary to let you know first——I have a hundred +difficulties which I have promised to clear up, and a thousand +distresses and domestick misadventures crowding in upon me thick and +threefold, one upon the neck of another. A cow broke in (to-morrow +morning) to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> fortifications, and eat up two +rations and a half of dried grass, tearing up the sods with it, which +faced his horn-work and covered way.——<i>Trim</i> insists +upon being tried by a court-martial—the cow to be +shot—<i>Slop</i> to be <i>crucifix’d</i>—myself to be +<i>tristram’d</i> and at my very baptism made a martyr +of;——poor unhappy devils that we all +are!——I want swaddling———but there is +no time to be lost in exclamations———I have left +my father lying across his bed, and my uncle <i>Toby</i> in his old +fringed chair, sitting beside him, and promised I would go back to them +in half an hour; and five-and-thirty minutes are laps’d +already.———Of all the perplexities a mortal author was +ever seen in——this certainly is the greatest, for I have +<i>Hafen Slawkenbergius’s</i> folio, Sir, to +finish——a dialogue between my father and my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, upon the solution of <i>Prignitz</i>, <i>Scroderus</i>, +<i>Ambrose Paræus</i>, <i>Ponocrates</i>, and <i>Grangousier</i> to +relate—a tale out of <i>Slawkenbergius</i> to translate, and +all this in five minutes less than no time at +all;———such a head!—would to Heaven my enemies +only saw the inside of it!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXXXIX" id = "bookIII_chapXXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> was not any one scene more +entertaining in our family—and to do it justice in this +point;——and I here put off my cap and lay it upon the table +close beside my ink-horn, on +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page171" id = "page171">171</a></span> +purpose to make my declaration to the world concerning this one article +the more solemn——that I believe in my soul (unless my love +and partiality to my understanding blinds me) the hand of the +supreme Maker and first Designer of all things never made or put a +family together (in that period at least of it which I have sat +down to write the story of)——where the characters of it +were cast or contrasted with so dramatick a felicity as ours was, for +this end; or in which the capacities of affording such exquisite scenes, +and the powers of shifting them perpetually from morning to night, were +lodged and intrusted with so unlimited a confidence, as in the <span +class = "smallcaps">Shandy Family</span>.</p> + +<p>Not any one of these was more diverting, I say, in this whimsical +theatre of ours——than what frequently arose out of this +self-same chapter of long noses———especially when my +father’s imagination was heated with the enquiry, and nothing would +serve him but to heat my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> too.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> would give my father all possible fair play in +this attempt; and with infinite patience would sit smoaking his pipe for +whole hours together, whilst my father was practising upon his head, and +trying every accessible avenue to drive <i>Prignitz</i> and +<i>Scroderus’s</i> solutions into it.</p> + +<p>Whether they were above my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +reason———or contrary to it———or that +his brain was like <i>damp</i> timber, and no spark could possibly take +hold——or that it was so full of saps, mines, blinds, +curtins, and such military disqualifications to his seeing clearly into +<i>Prignitz</i> and <i>Scroderus’s</i> doctrines——I say +not—let schoolmen—scullions, anatomists, and engineers, +fight for it among <span class = +"locked">themselves——</span></p> + +<p>’Twas some misfortune, I make no doubt, in this affair, that my +father had every word of it to translate for the benefit of my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, and render out of <i>Slawkenbergius’s Latin</i>, of which, +as he was no great master, his translation was not always of the +purest——and generally least so where ’twas most +wanted.—This naturally open’d a door to a second +misfortune;——that in the warmer paroxysms of his zeal to +open my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> eyes———my father’s ideas +ran on as much faster than the translation, as the translation outmoved +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>———neither the one or the other +added much to the perspicuity of my father’s lecture.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page172" id = "page172">172</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXL" id = "bookIII_chapXL"> +CHAPTER XL</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> gift of ratiocination and making +syllogisms——I mean in man—for in superior classes of +being, such as angels and spirits——’tis all done, may it +please your worships, as they tell me, by <span class = +"smallcaps">Intuition</span>;—and beings inferior, as your +worships all know——syllogize by their noses: though there is +an island swimming in the sea (though not altogether at its ease) whose +inhabitants, if my intelligence deceives me not, are so wonderfully +gifted, as to syllogize after the same fashion, and oft-times to make +very well out too:———but that’s neither here nor <span +class = "locked">there———</span></p> + +<p>The gift of doing it as it should be, amongst us, or—the great +and principal act of ratiocination in man, as logicians tell us, is the +finding out the agreement or disagreement of two ideas one with another, +by the intervention of a third (called the <i>medius terminus</i>); just +as a man, as <i>Locke</i> well observes, by a yard, finds two men’s +nine-pin-alleys to be of the same length, which could not be brought +together, to measure their equality, by <i>juxta-position</i>.</p> + +<p>Had the same great reasoner looked on, as my father illustrated his +systems of noses, and observed my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +deportment—what great attention he gave to every word—and as +oft as he took his pipe from his mouth, with what wonderful seriousness +he contemplated the length of it——surveying it transversely +as he held it betwixt his finger and his thumb———then +fore-right———then this way, and then that, in all its +possible directions and foreshortenings———he would +have concluded my uncle <i>Toby</i> had got hold of the <i>medius +terminus</i>, and was syllogizing and measuring with it the truth of +each hypothesis of long noses, in order, as my father laid them before +him. This, by the bye, was more than my father wanted——his +aim in all the pains he was at in these philosophick lectures—was +to enable my uncle <i>Toby</i> not to <i>discuss</i>——but +<i>comprehend</i>——to <i>hold</i> the grains and scruples of +learning——not to <i>weigh</i> them.——My uncle +<i>Toby</i>, as you will read in the next chapter, did neither the one +or the other.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXLI" id = "bookIII_chapXLI"> +CHAPTER XLI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">’Tis</span> a pity, cried my father one +winter’s night, after a three hours’ painful translation of +<i>Slawkenbergius</i>——’tis a pity, cried +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page173" id = "page173">173</a></span> +my father, putting my mother’s thread-paper into the book for a mark, as +he spoke——that truth, brother <i>Toby</i>, should shut +herself up in such impregnable fastnesses, and be so obstinate as not to +surrender herself sometimes up upon the closest <span class = +"locked">siege.——</span></p> + +<p>Now it happened then, as indeed it had often done before, that my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> fancy, during the time of my father’s explanation of +<i>Prignitz</i> to him———having nothing to stay it +there, had taken a short flight to the +bowling-green!———his body might as well have taken a +turn there too—so that with all the semblance of a deep school-man +intent upon the <i>medius terminus</i>———my uncle +<i>Toby</i> was in fact as ignorant of the whole lecture, and all its +pros and cons, as if my father had been translating <i>Hafen +Slawkenbergius</i> from the <i>Latin</i> tongue into the +<i>Cherokee</i>. But the word <i>siege</i>, like a talismanic power, in +my father’s metaphor, wafting back my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> fancy, quick +as a note could follow the touch—he open’d his +ears——and my father observing that he took his pipe out of +his mouth, and shuffled his chair nearer the table, as with a desire to +profit—my father with great pleasure began his sentence +again——changing only the plan, and dropping the metaphor of +the siege of it, to keep clear of some dangers my father apprehended +from it.</p> + +<p>’Tis a pity, said my father, that truth can only be on one side, +brother <i>Toby</i>———considering what ingenuity these +learned men have all shewn in their solutions of noses.——Can +noses be dissolved? replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>———My father thrust back his +chair———rose up—put on his +hat———took four long strides to the +door———jerked it open——thrust his head +half way out——shut the door again——took no +notice of the bad hinge——returned to the table—pluck’d +my mother’s thread-paper out of <i>Slawkenbergius’s</i> +book———went hastily to his bureau—walked slowly +back—twisted my mother’s thread-paper about his +thumb—unbutton’d his waistcoat—threw my mother’s +thread-paper into the fire——bit her sattin pin-cushion in +two, fill’d his mouth with bran—confounded it;—but +mark!—the oath of confusion was levell’d at my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +brain—which was e’en confused enough already——the +curse came charged only with the bran—the bran, may it please your +honours, was no more than powder to the ball.</p> + +<p>’Twas well my father’s passions lasted not long; for so long as they +did last, they led him a busy life on’t; and it is one of the most +unaccountable problems that ever I met with in my observations of human +nature, that nothing should prove my father’s +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page174" id = "page174">174</a></span> +mettle so much, or make his passions go off so like gunpowder, as the +unexpected strokes his science met with from the quaint simplicity of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> questions.——Had ten dozen of hornets +stung him behind in so many different places all at one time—he +could not have exerted more mechanical functions in fewer +seconds———or started half so much, as with one single +<i>quære</i> of three words unseasonably popping in full upon him in his +hobby-horsical career.</p> + +<p>’Twas all one to my uncle <i>Toby</i>———he smoaked +his pipe on with unvaried composure——his heart never +intended offence to his brother—and as his head could seldom find +out where the sting of it lay——he always gave my father the +credit of cooling by himself.——He was five minutes and +thirty-five seconds about it in the present case.</p> + +<p>By all that’s good! said my father, swearing, as he came to himself, +and taking the oath out of <i>Ernulphus’s</i> digest of +curses——(though to do my father justice it was a fault +(as he told Dr. <i>Slop</i> in the affair of <i>Ernulphus</i>) +which he as seldom committed as any man upon +earth)———By all that’s good and great! brother +<i>Toby</i>, said my father, if it was not for the aids of philosophy, +which befriend one so much as they do—you would put a man beside +all temper.——Why, by the <i>solutions</i> of noses, of which +I was telling you, I meant, as you might have known, had you +favoured me with one grain of attention, the various accounts which +learned men of different kinds of knowledge have given the world of the +causes of short and long noses.——There is no cause but one, +replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>——why one man’s nose is longer +than another’s, but because that God pleases to have it +so.——That is <i>Grangousier’s</i> solution, said my +father.—’Tis he, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking up, and +not regarding my father’s interruption, who makes us all, and frames and +puts us together in such forms and proportions, and for such ends, as is +agreeable to his infinite wisdom.——’Tis a pious account, +cried my father, but not philosophical——there is more +religion in it than sound science. ’Twas no inconsistent part of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> character——that he feared God, and +reverenced religion.——So the moment my father finished his +remark——my uncle <i>Toby</i> fell a whistling +<i>Lillabullero</i> with more zeal (though more out of tune) than <span +class = "locked">usual.—</span></p> + +<p>What is become of my wife’s thread-paper?</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page175" id = "page175">175</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIII_chapXLII" id = "bookIII_chapXLII"> +CHAPTER XLII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">No</span> matter—as an appendage to +seamstressy, the thread-paper might be of some consequence to my +mother—of none to my father, as a mark in <i>Slawkenbergius</i>. +<i>Slawkenbergius</i> in every page of him was a rich treasure of +inexhaustible knowledge to my father—he could not open him amiss; +and he would often say in closing the book, that if all the arts and +sciences in the world, with the books which treated of them, were +lost—should the wisdom and policies of governments, he would say, +through disuse, ever happen to be forgot, and all that statesmen had +wrote or caused to be written, upon the strong or the weak sides of +courts and kingdoms, should they be forgot also—and +<i>Slawkenbergius</i> only left——there would be enough in +him in all conscience, he would say, to set the world a-going again. +A treasure therefore was he indeed! an institute of all that was +necessary to be known of noses, and everything else—at +<i>matin</i>, noon, and vespers was <i>Hafen Slawkenbergius</i> his +recreation and delight: ’twas for ever in his hands——you +would have sworn, Sir, it had been a canon’s prayer-book—so worn, +so glazed, so contrited and attrited was it with fingers and with thumbs +in all its parts, from one end even unto the other.</p> + +<p>I am not such a bigot to <i>Slawkenbergius</i> as my +father;——there is a fund in him, no doubt: but in my +opinion, the best, I don’t say the most profitable, but the most +amusing part of <i>Hafen Slawkenbergius</i>, is his +tales———and, considering he was a <i>German</i>, many +of them told not without fancy:———these take up his +second book, containing nearly one half of his folio, and are +comprehended in ten decads, each decad containing ten +tales———Philosophy is not built upon tales; and +therefore ’twas certainly wrong in <i>Slawkenbergius</i> to send them +into the world by that name!——there are a few of them in his +eighth, ninth, and tenth decads, which I own seem rather playful and +sportive, than speculative—but in general they are to be looked +upon by the learned as a detail of so many independent facts, all of +them turning round somehow or other upon the main hinges of his subject, +and collected by him with great fidelity, and added to his work as so +many illustrations upon the doctrines of noses.</p> + +<p>As we have leisure enough upon our hands——if you give me +leave, madam, I’ll tell you the ninth tale of his tenth decad.</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_3_1" id = "note_3_1" href = "#tag_3_1">1.</a> +Vide <a href = "#page105">page 105</a>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_3_2" id = "note_3_2" href = "#tag_3_2">2.</a> +As the genuineness of the consultation of the <i>Sorbonne</i> upon the +question of baptism, was doubted by some, and denied by +others——’twas thought proper to print the original of this +excommunication; for the copy of which Mr. <i>Shandy</i> returns thanks +to the chapter clerk of the dean and chapter of <i>Rochester</i>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_3_3" id = "note_3_3" href = "#tag_3_3">3.</a> +Vide Locke.</p> +</div> + + +<table class = "parallel" summary = "parallel text"> +<tr> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum left"> +<a name = "page176" id = "page176">176</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookIV" id = "bookIV">BOOK IV</a></h3> + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_slawkenberg" id = "bookIV_slawkenberg"> +SLAWKENBERGII FABELLA</a><a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_1" id = +"tag_4_1" href = "#note_4_1">1</a></h4> +</td> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page177" id = "page177">177</a></span> + +<h3>BOOK IV</h3> + +<h4>SLAWKENBERGIUS’S TALE</h4> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Vespera quâdam frigidulâ, posteriori in parte mensis +<em>Augusti</em>, peregrinus, mulo fusco colore insidens, manticâ a +tergo, paucis indusiis, binis calceis, braccisque sericis coccineis +repleta, <em>Argentoratum</em> ingressus est.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>It was one cool refreshing evening, at the close of a very sultry +day, in the latter end of the month of <i>August</i>, when a stranger, +mounted upon a dark mule, with a small cloak-bag behind him, containing +a few shirts, a pair of shoes, and a crimson-sattin pair of +breeches, entered the town of <i>Strasburg</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Militi eum percontanti, quum portas intraret dixit, se apud +Nasorum promontorium fuisse, Francofurtum proficisci, et Argentoratum, +transitu ad fines Sarmatiæ mensis intervallo, reversurum.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>He told the centinel, who questioned him as he entered the gates, +that he had been at the Promontory of <span class = +"smallcaps">Noses</span>—was going on to +<i>Frankfort</i>——and should be back again at +<i>Strasburg</i> that day month, in his way to the borders of <i>Crim +Tartary</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Miles peregrini in faciem suspexit——Dî boni, nova +forma nasi!</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>The centinel looked up into the stranger’s face——he never +saw such a Nose in his life!</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>At multum mihi profuit, inquit peregrinus, carpum amento +extrahens, e quo pependit acinaces: Loculo manum inseruit; et magnâ +cum urbanitate, pilei parte anteriore tactâ manu sinistrâ, ut extendit +dextram, militi florinum dedit et processit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>—I have made a very good venture of it, quoth the +stranger—so slipping his wrist out of the loop of a black ribbon, +to which a short scymetar was hung, he put his hand into his pocket, and +with great courtesy touching the fore part of his cap with his left +hand, as he extended his right——he put a florin into the +centinel’s hand, and passed on.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Dolet mihi, ait miles, tympanistam nanum et valgum alloquens, +virum adeo urbanum vaginam perdidisse: itinerari haud poterit nudâ +acinaci; neque vaginam toto <em>Argentorato</em>, habilem +inveniet.———Nullam unquam habui, respondit peregrinus +respiciens———seque comiter inclinans—hoc more +gesto, nudam acinacem elevans, mulo lentò progrediente, ut nasum tueri +possim.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>It grieves me, said the centinel, speaking to a little dwarfish +bandy-legg’d drummer, that so courteous a soul should have lost his +scabbard———he cannot travel without one to his +scymetar, and will not be able to get a scabbard to fit it in all +<i>Strasburg</i>.——I never had one, replied the +stranger, looking back to the centinel, and putting his hand up to his +cap as he spoke——I carry it, continued he, +thus——holding up his naked scymetar, his mule moving on +slowly all the time—on purpose to defend my nose.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Non immerito, benigne peregrine, respondit miles.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>It is well worth it, gentle stranger, replied the centinel.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Nihili æstimo, ait ille tympanista, e pergamenâ factitius +est.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>——’Tis not worth a single stiver, said the bandy-legg’d +drummer——’tis a nose of parchment.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Prout christianus sum, inquit miles, nasus ille, ni sexties major +sit, meo esset conformis.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>As I am a true catholic—except that it is six times as +big—’tis a nose, said the centinel, like my own.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Crepitare audivi ait tympanista.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>—I heard it crackle, said the drummer.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum left"> +<a name = "page178" id = "page178">178</a></span> +<p><i>Mehercule! sanguinem emisit, respondit miles.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page179" id = "page179">179</a></span> +<p>By dunder, said the centinel, I saw it bleed.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Miseret me, inquit tympanista, qui non ambo tetigimus!</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>What a pity, cried the bandy-legg’d drummer, we did not both touch +it!</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Eodem temporis puncto, quo hæc res argumentata fuit inter militem +et tympanistam, disceptabatur ibidem tubicine et uxore suâ qui tunc +accesserunt, et peregrino prætereunte, restiterunt.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>At the very time that this dispute was maintaining by the centinel +and the drummer—was the same point debating betwixt a trumpeter +and a trumpeter’s wife, who were just then coming up, and had stopped to +see the stranger pass by.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Quantus nasus! æque longus est, ait tubicina, ac tuba.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p><i>Benedicity!</i>———What a nose! ’tis as long, +said the trumpeter’s wife, as a trumpet.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Et ex eodem metallo, ait tubicen, velut sternutamento +audias.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>And of the same metal, said the trumpeter, as you hear by its +sneezing.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Tantum abest, respondit illa, quod fistulam dulcedine +vincit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>’Tis as soft as a flute, said she.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Æneus est, ait tubicen.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>—’Tis brass, said the trumpeter.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Nequaquam, respondit uxor.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>—’Tis a pudding’s end, said his wife.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Rursum affirmo, ait tubicen, quod æneus est.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>I tell thee again, said the trumpeter, ’tis a brazen nose.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Rem penitus explorabo; prius, enim digito tangam, ait uxor, quam +dormivero.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>I’ll know the bottom of it, said the trumpeter’s wife, for I will +touch it with my finger before I sleep.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Mulus peregrini gradu lento progressus est, ut unumquodque verbum +controversiæ, non tantum inter militem et tympanistam, verum etiam inter +tubicinem et uxorem ejus, audiret.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>The stranger’s mule moved on at so slow a rate, that he heard every +word of the dispute, not only betwixt the centinel and the drummer, but +betwixt the trumpeter and trumpeter’s wife.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Nequaquam, ait ille, in muli collum fræna demittens, et manibus +ambabus in pectus positis, (mulo lentè progrediente) nequaquam, ait ille +respiciens, non necesse est ut res isthæc dilucidata foret. Minime +gentium! meus nasus nunquam tangetur, dum spiritus hos reget +artus—Ad quid agendum? ait uxor burgomagistri.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>No! said he, dropping his reins upon his mule’s neck, and laying both +his hands upon his breast, the one over the other, in a saint-like +position (his mule going on easily all the time) No! said he, looking +up—I am not such a debtor to the world——slandered +and disappointed as I have been—as to give it that +conviction——no! said he, my nose shall never be touched +whilst Heaven gives me strength——To do what? said a +burgomaster’s wife.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Peregrinus illi non respondit. Votum faciebat tunc temporis sancto +Nicolao; quo facto, in sinum dextrum inserens, e quâ negligenter +pependit acinaces, lento gradu processit per plateam Argentorati latam +quæ ad diversorium templo ex adversum ducit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>The stranger took no notice of the burgomaster’s +wife———he was making a vow to <i>Saint Nicolas</i>; +which done, having uncrossed his arms with the same solemnity with which +he crossed them, he took up the reins of his bridle with his left hand, +and putting his right hand into his bosom, with his scymetar hanging +loosely to the wrist of it, he rode on, as slowly as one foot of the +mule could follow another, thro’ the principal streets of +<i>Strasburg</i>, till chance brought him to the great inn in the +market-place over against the church.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Peregrinus mulo descendens stabulo includi, et manticam inferri +jussit: quâ apertâ et coccineis sericis femoralibus extractis cum +argenteo laciniato <ins class = "correction greek" +title = "Perizômata [printed Περιζώμαυτὲ Perizômaute]">Περιζώματα</ins>, his sese induit, +statimque, acinaci in manu, ad forum deambulavit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>The moment the stranger alighted, he ordered his mule to be led into +the stable, and his cloak-bag to be brought in; then opening, and taking +out of it his crimson-sattin breeches, with a +silver-fringed—(appendage to them, which I dare not +translate)—he put his breeches, with his fringed codpiece on, and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page181" id = "page181">181</a></span> +forthwith, with his short scymetar in his hand, walked out on to the +grand parade.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<span class = "pagenum left"> +<a name = "page180" id = "page180">180</a></span> +<p><i>Quod ubi peregrinus esset ingressus, uxorem tubicinis obviam +euntem aspicit; illico cursum flectit, metuens ne nasus suus +exploraretur, atque ad diversorium regressus est—exuit se +vestibus; braccas coccineas sericas manticæ imposuit mulumque educi +jussit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>The stranger had just taken three turns upon the parade, when he +perceived the trumpeter’s wife at the opposite side of it—so +turning short, in pain lest his nose should be attempted, he instantly +went back to his inn—undressed himself, packed up his +crimson-sattin breeches, &c., in his cloak-bag, and called for his +mule.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Francofurtum proficiscor, ait ille, et Argentoratum quatuor abhinc +hebdomadis revertar.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>I am going forwards, said the stranger, for +<i>Frankfort</i>——and shall be back at <i>Strasburg</i> this +day month.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Bene curasti hoc jumentum? (ait) muli faciem manu +demulcens—me, manticamque mean, plus sexcentis mille passibus +portavit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>I hope, continued the stranger, stroking down the face of his mule +with his left hand as he was going to mount it, that you have been kind +to this faithful slave of mine—it has carried me and my cloak-bag, +continued he, tapping the mule’s back, above six hundred leagues.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Longa via est! respondet hospes, nisi plurimum esset +negoti.—Enimvero, ait peregrinus, a Nasorum promontorio +redii, et nasum speciosissimum, egregiosissimumque quem unquam quisquam +sortitus est, acquisivi.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>——’Tis a long journey, Sir, replied the master of the +inn——unless a man has great business.——Tut! tut! +said the stranger, I have been at the Promontory of Noses; and have +got me one of the goodliest, thank Heaven, that ever fell to a single +man’s lot.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Dum peregrinus hanc miram rationem de seipso reddit, hospes et +uxor ejus, oculis intentis, peregrini nasum +contemplantur——Per sanctos sanctasque omnes, ait hospitis +uxor, nasis duodecim maximis in toto Argentorato major est!—estne, +ait illa mariti in aurem insusurrans, nonne est nasus +prægrandis?</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Whilst the stranger was giving this odd account of himself, the +master of the inn and his wife kept both their eyes fixed full upon the +stranger’s nose——By saint <i>Radagunda</i>, said the +inn-keeper’s wife to herself, there is more of it than in any dozen of +the largest noses put together in all <i>Strasburg!</i> is it not, said +she, whispering her husband in his ear, is it not a noble nose?</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Dolus inest, anime mî, ait hospes—nasus est falsus.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>’Tis an imposture, my dear, said the master of the +inn——’tis a false nose.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Verus est, respondit uxor——</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>’Tis a true nose, said his wife.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Ex abiete factus est, ait ille, terebinthinum +olet———</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>’Tis made of fir-tree, said he, I smell the <span class = +"locked">turpentine.———</span></p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Carbunculus inest, ait uxor.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>There’s a pimple on it, said she.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Mortuus est nasus, respondit hospes.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>’Tis a dead nose, replied the inn-keeper.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Vivus est ait illa,—et si ipsa vivam tangam.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>’Tis a live nose, and if I am alive myself, said the inn-keeper’s +wife, I will touch it.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Votum feci sancto Nicolao, ait peregrinus, nasum meum intactum +fore usque ad—Quodnam tempus? illico respondit illa.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>I have made a vow to saint <i>Nicolas</i> this day, said the +stranger, that my nose shall not be touched till—Here the +stranger, suspending his voice, looked up.———Till +when? said she hastily.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Minimo tangetur, inquit ille (manibus in pectus compositis) usque +ad illam horam———Quam horam? ait +illa———Nullam, respondit peregrinus, donec pervenio +ad—Quem locum,—obsecro? ait illa——Peregrinus nil +respondens mulo conscenso discessit.</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>It never shall be touched, said he, clasping his hands and bringing +them close to his breast, till that hour—What hour? cried the +inn-keeper’s wife.—Never!—never! said the stranger, never +till I am got—For Heaven’s sake, into what place? said +she———The stranger rode away without saying a +word.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page182" id = "page182">182</a></span> +<p>The stranger had not got half a league on his way towards +<i>Frankfort</i> before all the city of <i>Strasburg</i> was in an +uproar about his nose. The <i>Compline</i> bells were just ringing to +call the <i>Strasburgers</i> to their devotions, and shut up the duties +of the day in prayer:—no soul in all <i>Strasburg</i> heard +’em—the city was like a swarm of bees———men, +women, and children (the <i>Compline</i> bells tinkling all the time) +flying here and there—in at one door, out at +another——this way and that way—long ways and cross +ways—up one street, down another street——in at this +alley, out of that———did you see it? did you see it? +did you see it? O! did you see it?———who saw it? who +did see it? for mercy’s sake, who saw it?</p> + +<p>Alack o’day! I was at vespers!—I was washing, I was starching, +I was scouring, I was quilting——God help me! +I never saw it——I never touch’d +it!——would I had been a centinel, a bandy-legg’d +drummer, a trumpeter, a trumpeter’s wife, was the general cry +and lamentation in every street and corner of <i>Strasburg</i>.</p> + +<p>Whilst all this confusion and disorder triumphed throughout the great +city of <i>Strasburg</i>, was the courteous stranger going on as gently +upon his mule in his way to <i>Frankfort</i>, as if he had no concern at +all in the affair———talking all the way he rode in +broken sentences, sometimes to his mule—sometimes to +himself—sometimes to his Julia.</p> + +<p>O Julia, my lovely Julia!—nay, I cannot stop to let thee bite +that thistle——that ever the suspected tongue of a rival +should have robbed me of enjoyment when I was upon the point of tasting +<span class = "locked">it.——</span></p> + +<p>——Pugh!—’tis nothing but a thistle—never mind +it——thou shalt have a better supper at night.</p> + +<p>——Banish’d from my country——my +friends——from thee.——</p> + +<p>Poor devil, thou’rt sadly tired with thy +journey!——come—get on a little faster—there’s +nothing in my cloak-bag but two +shirts——a crimson-sattin pair of breeches, and a +fringed——Dear Julia.</p> + +<p>——But why to <i>Frankfort</i>—is it that there is a +hand unfelt, which secretly is conducting me through these meanders and +unsuspected tracts?</p> + +<p>——Stumbling! by saint <i>Nicolas!</i> every +step—why, at this rate we shall be all night in getting <span +class = "locked">in———</span></p> + +<p>——To happiness——or am I to be the sport of +fortune and slander—destined to be driven forth +unconvicted——unheard——untouch’d——if +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page183" id = "page183">183</a></span> +so, why did I not stay at <i>Strasburg</i>, where justice—but I +had sworn! Come, thou shalt drink—to <i>St. +Nicolas</i>—O Julia!———What dost thou prick +up thy ears at?——’tis nothing but a man, &c.</p> + +<p>The stranger rode on communing in this manner with his mule and +Julia—till he arrived at his inn, where, as soon as he arrived, he +alighted———saw his mule, as he had promised it, taken +good care of——took off his cloak-bag, with his +crimson-sattin breeches, &c., in it—called for an omelet to +his supper, went to his bed about twelve o’clock, and in five minutes +fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>It was about the same hour when the tumult in <i>Strasburg</i> being +abated for that night,—the <i>Strasburgers</i> had all got quietly +into their beds—but not like the stranger, for the rest either of +their minds or bodies; queen <i>Mab</i>, like an elf as she was, had +taken the stranger’s nose, and without reduction of its bulk, had that +night been at the pains of slitting and dividing it into as many noses +of different cuts and fashions, as there were heads in <i>Strasburg</i> +to hold them. The abbess of <i>Quedlingberg</i>, who with the four great +dignitaries of her chapter, the prioress, the deaness, the +sub-chantress, and senior canoness, had that week come to +<i>Strasburg</i> to consult the university upon a case of conscience +relating to their placket-holes———was ill all the +night.</p> + +<p>The courteous stranger’s nose had got perched upon the top of the +pineal gland of her brain, and made such rousing work in the fancies of +the four great dignitaries of her chapter, they could not get a wink of +sleep the whole night thro’ for it——there was no keeping a +limb still amongst them——in short, they got up like so many +ghosts.</p> + +<p>The penitentiaries of the third order of saint +<i>Francis</i>——the nuns of mount +<i>Calvary</i>——the <i>Præmonstratenses</i>——the +<i>Clunienses</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_2" id = "tag_4_2" href = +"#note_4_2">2</a>——the <i>Carthusians</i>, and all the +severer orders of nuns who lay that night in blankets or hair-cloth, +were still in a worse condition than the abbess of +<i>Quedlingberg</i>—by tumbling and tossing, and tossing and +tumbling from one side of their beds to the other the whole night +long——the several sisterhoods had scratch’d and maul’d +themselves all to death——they got out of their beds almost +flay’d alive—everybody thought saint <i>Antony</i> had visited +them for probation with his fire——they had never once, in +short, shut their eyes the whole night long from vespers to matins.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page184" id = "page184">184</a></span> +<p>The nuns of saint <i>Ursula</i> acted the wisest—they never +attempted to go to bed at all.</p> + +<p>The dean of <i>Strasburg</i>, the prebendaries, the capitulars and +domiciliars (capitularly assembled in the morning to consider the case +of butter’d buns) all wished they had followed the nuns of saint +<i>Ursula’s</i> <span class = +"locked">example.———</span></p> + +<p>In the hurry and confusion everything had been in the night before, +the bakers had all forgot to lay their leaven—there were no +butter’d buns to be had for breakfast in all <i>Strasburg</i>—the +whole close of the cathedral was in one eternal +commotion——such a cause of restlessness and disquietude, and +such a zealous inquiry into the cause of that restlessness, had never +happened in <i>Strasburg</i>, since <i>Martin Luther</i>, with his +doctrines, had turned the city upside down.</p> + +<p>If the stranger’s nose took this liberty of thrusting himself thus +into the dishes<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_3" id = "tag_4_3" href = +"#note_4_3">3</a> of religious orders, &c., what a carnival did his +nose make of it, in those of the laity!—’tis more than my pen, +worn to the stump as it is, has power to describe; tho’ +I acknowledge, (<i>cries <em>Slawkenbergius</em>, with more gaiety +of thought than I could have expected from him</i>) that there is many a +good simile now subsisting in the world which might give my countrymen +some idea of it; but at the close of such a folio as this, wrote for +their sakes, and in which I have spent the greatest part of my +life——tho’ I own to them the simile is in being, yet +would it not be unreasonable in them to expect I should have either time +or inclination to search for it? Let it suffice to say, that the riot +and disorder it occasioned in the <i>Strasburgers’</i> fantasies was so +general—such an overpowering mastership had it got of all the +faculties of the <i>Strasburgers’</i> minds—so many strange +things, with equal confidence on all sides, and with equal eloquence in +all places, were spoken and sworn to concerning it, that turned the +whole stream of all discourse and wonder towards it—every soul, +good and bad—rich and poor—learned and +unlearned——doctor and student——mistress and +maid——gentle and simple——nun’s flesh and woman’s +flesh, in <i>Strasburg</i> spent their time in hearing tidings about +it—every eye in <i>Strasburg</i> languished to see +it——every finger——every thumb in +<i>Strasburg</i> burned to touch it.</p> + +<p>Now what might add, if anything may be thought necessary to add, to +so vehement a desire—was this, that the centinel, the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page185" id = "page185">185</a></span> +bandy-legg’d drummer, the trumpeter, the trumpeter’s wife, the +burgomaster’s widow, the master of the inn, and the master of the inn’s +wife, how widely soever they all differed every one from another in +their testimonies and description of the stranger’s nose—they all +agreed together in two points—namely, that he was gone to +<i>Frankfort</i>, and would not return to <i>Strasburg</i> till that day +month; and secondly, whether his nose was true or false, that the +stranger himself was one of the most perfect paragons of +beauty—the finest-made man—the most genteel!—the most +generous of his purse—the most courteous in his carriage that had +ever entered the gates of <i>Strasburg</i>—that as he rode, with +scymetar slung loosely to his wrist, thro’ the streets—and walked +with his crimson-sattin breeches across the parade—’twas with so +sweet an air of careless modesty, and so manly withal——as +would have put the heart in jeopardy (had his nose not stood in his way) +of every virgin who had cast her eyes upon him.</p> + +<p>I call not upon that heart which is a stranger to the throbs and +yearnings of curiosity, so excited, to justify the abbess of +<i>Quedlingberg</i>, the prioress, the deaness, and sub-chantress, for +sending at noon-day for the trumpeter’s wife: she went through the +streets of <i>Strasburg</i> with her husband’s trumpet in her +hand,——the best apparatus the straitness of the time would +allow her, for the illustration of her theory—she staid no longer +than three days.</p> + +<p>The centinel and bandy-legg’d drummer!——nothing on this +side of old <i>Athens</i> could equal them! they read their lectures +under the city-gates to comers and goers, with all the pomp of a +<i>Chrysippus</i> and a <i>Crantor</i> in their porticos.</p> + +<p>The master of the inn, with his ostler on his left-hand, read his +also in the same stile—under the portico or gateway of his +stable-yard—his wife, hers more privately in a back room: all +flocked to their lectures; not promiscuously—but to this or that, +as is ever the way, as faith and credulity marshal’d +them——in a word, each <i>Strasburger</i> came crouding for +intelligence——and every <i>Strasburger</i> had the +intelligence he wanted.</p> + +<p>’Tis worth remarking, for the benefit of all demonstrators in natural +philosophy, &c., that as soon as the trumpeter’s wife had finished +the abbess of <i>Quedlingberg’s</i> private lecture, and had begun to +read in public, which she did upon a stool in the middle of the great +parade,——she incommoded the other demonstrators mainly, by +gaining incontinently the most fashionable part of the city of +<i>Strasburg</i> for her auditory——But when a demonstrator +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page186" id = "page186">186</a></span> +in philosophy (cries <i>Slawkenbergius</i>) has a <i>trumpet</i> for an +apparatus, pray what rival in science can pretend to be heard besides +him?</p> + +<p>Whilst the unlearned, thro’ these conduits of intelligence, were all +busied in getting down to the bottom of the well, where <span class = +"smallcaps">Truth</span> keeps her little court———were +the learned in their way as busy in pumping her up thro’ the conduits of +dialect induction——they concerned themselves not with +facts———they <span class = +"locked">reasoned———</span></p> + +<p>Not one profession had thrown more light upon this subject than the +Faculty—had not all their disputes about it run into the affair of +<i>Wens</i> and œdematous swellings, they could not keep clear of them +for their bloods and souls———the stranger’s nose had +nothing to do either with wens or œdematous swellings.</p> + +<p>It was demonstrated however very satisfactorily, that such a +ponderous mass of heterogeneous matter could not be congested and +conglomerated to the nose, whilst the infant was <i>in Utero</i>, +without destroying the statical balance of the fœtus, and throwing it +plump upon its head nine months before the <span class = +"locked">time.———</span></p> + +<p>——The opponents granted the theory——they +denied the consequences.</p> + +<p>And if a suitable provision of veins, arteries, &c., said they, +was not laid in, for the due nourishment of such a nose, in the very +first stamina and rudiments of its formation, before it came into the +world (bating the case of Wens) it could not regularly grow and be +sustained afterwards.</p> + +<p>This was all answered by a dissertation upon nutriment, and the +effect which nutriment had in extending the vessels, and in the increase +and prolongation of the muscular parts of the greatest growth and +expansion imaginable—In the triumph of which theory, they went so +far as to affirm, that there was no cause in nature, why a nose might +not grow to the size of the man himself.</p> + +<p>The respondents satisfied the world this event could never happen to +them so long as a man had but one stomach and one pair of +lungs——For the stomach, said they, being the only organ +destined for the reception of food, and turning it into chyle—and +the lungs the only engine of sanguification—it could possibly work +off no more, than what the appetite brought it: or admitting the +possibility of a man’s overloading his stomach, nature had set bounds +however to his lungs—the engine was of a determined size and +strength, and could elaborate but a certain +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page187" id = "page187">187</a></span> +quantity in a given time———that is, it could produce +just as much blood as was sufficient for one single man, and no more; so +that, if there was as much nose as man——they proved a +mortification must necessarily ensue; and forasmuch as there could not +be a support for both, that the nose must either fall off from the man, +or the man inevitably fall off from his nose.</p> + +<p>Nature accommodates herself to these emergencies, cried the +opponents—else what do you say to the case of a whole +stomach—a whole pair of lungs, and but <i>half</i> a man, +when both his legs have been unfortunately shot off?</p> + +<p>He dies of a plethora, said they—or must spit blood, and in a +fortnight or three weeks go off in a <span class = +"locked">consumption.———</span></p> + +<p>——It happens otherwise—replied the +opponents.——</p> + +<p>It ought not, said they.</p> + +<p>The more curious and intimate inquirers after nature and her doings, +though they went hand in hand a good way together, yet they all divided +about the nose at last, almost as much as the Faculty itself.</p> + +<p>They amicably laid it down, that there was a just and geometrical +arrangement and proportion of the several parts of the human frame to +its several destinations, offices, and functions which could not be +transgressed but within certain limits—that nature, though she +sported——she sported within a certain circle;—and they +could not agree about the diameter of it.</p> + +<p>The logicians stuck much closer to the point before them than any of +the classes of the literati;———they began and ended +with the word Nose; and had it not been for a <i>petitio principii</i>, +which one of the ablest of them ran his head against in the beginning of +the combat, the whole controversy had been settled at once.</p> + +<p>A nose, argued the logician, cannot bleed without blood—and not +only blood—but blood circulating in it to supply the phænomenon +with a succession of drops—(a stream being but a quicker +succession of drops, that is included, said he).——Now +death, continued the logician, being nothing but the stagnation of the +<span class = "locked">blood——</span></p> + +<p>I deny the definition——Death is the separation of the +soul from the body, said his antagonist——Then we don’t agree +about our weapons, said the logician—Then there is an end of the +dispute, replied the antagonist.</p> + +<p>The civilians were still more concise: what they offered being more +in the nature of a decree——than a dispute.</p> + +<p>Such a monstrous nose, said they, had it been a true nose, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page188" id = "page188">188</a></span> +could not possibly have been suffered in civil society——and +if false—to impose upon society with such false signs and tokens, +was a still greater violation of its rights, and must have had still +less mercy shewn it.</p> + +<p>The only objection to this was, that if it proved anything, it proved +the stranger’s nose was neither true nor false.</p> + +<p>This left room for the controversy to go on. It was maintained by the +advocates of the ecclesiastic court, that there was nothing to inhibit a +decree, since the stranger <i>ex mero motu</i> had confessed he had been +at the Promontory of Noses, and had got one of the goodliest, &c. +&c.———To this it was answered, it was impossible +there should be such a place as the Promontory of Noses, and the learned +be ignorant where it lay. The commissary of the bishop of +<i>Strasburg</i> undertook the advocates, explained this matter in a +treatise upon proverbial phrases, shewing them, that the Promontory of +Noses was a mere allegorick expression, importing no more than that +nature had given him a long nose: in proof of which, with great +learning, he cited the underwritten authorities,<a class = "tag" name = +"tag_4_4" id = "tag_4_4" href = "#note_4_4">4</a> which had decided the +point incontestably, had it not appeared that a dispute about some +franchises of dean and chapter-lands had been determined by it nineteen +years before.</p> + +<p>It happened——I must not say unluckily for Truth, because +they were giving her a lift another way in so doing; that the two +universities of <i>Strasburg</i>——the <i>Lutheran</i>, +founded in the year 1538 by <i>Jacobus Surmis</i>, counsellor of the +senate,——and the <i>Popish</i>, founded by <i>Leopold</i>, +arch-duke of <i>Austria</i>, were, during all this time, employing the +whole depth of their knowledge (except just what the affair of the +abbess of <i>Quedlingberg’s</i> placket-holes required)——in +determining the point of <i>Martin Luther’s</i> damnation.</p> + +<p>The <i>Popish</i> doctors had undertaken to demonstrate <i>à +priori</i>, that from the necessary influence of the planets on the +twenty-second day of <i>October</i> 1483———when the +moon was in the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page189" id = "page189">189</a></span> +twelfth house, <i>Jupiter</i>, <i>Mars</i>, and <i>Venus</i> in the +third, the <i>Sun</i>, <i>Saturn</i>, and <i>Mercury</i>, all got +together in the fourth—that he must in course, and unavoidably, be +a damn’d man—and that his doctrines, by a direct corollary, must +be damn’d doctrines too.</p> + +<p>By inspection into his horoscope, where five planets were in coition +all at once with Scorpio<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_5" id = "tag_4_5" +href = "#note_4_5">5</a> (in reading this my father would always +shake his head) in the ninth house, which the <i>Arabians</i> allotted +to religion—it appeared that <i>Martin Luther</i> did not care one +stiver about the matter———and that from the horoscope +directed to the conjunction of <i>Mars</i>—they made it plain +likewise he must die cursing and blaspheming——with the blast +of which his soul (being steep’d in guilt) sailed before the wind, in +the lake of hell-fire.</p> + +<p>The little objection of the <i>Lutheran</i> doctors to this, was, +that it must certainly be the soul of another man, born <i>Oct.</i> 22, +83, which was forced to sail down before the wind in that +manner—inasmuch as it appeared from the register of <i>Islaben</i> +in the county of <i>Mansfelt</i>, that <i>Luther</i> was not born in the +year 1483, but in 84; and not on the 22d day of <i>October</i>, but on +the 10th of <i>November</i>, the eve of <i>Martinmas</i> day, from +whence he had the name of <i>Martin</i>.</p> + +<p>[——I must break off my translation for a moment; for if I +did not, I know I should no more be able to shut my eyes in bed, +than the abbess of <i>Quedlingberg</i>——It is to tell the +reader, that my father never read this passage of <i>Slawkenbergius</i> +to my uncle <i>Toby</i>, but with triumph———not over +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, for he never opposed him in it——but +over the whole world.</p> + +<p>—Now you see, brother <i>Toby</i>, he would say, looking up, +“that christian names are not such indifferent +things;”———had <i>Luther</i> here been called by any +other name but Martin, he would have been damn’d to all +eternity———Not that I look upon <i>Martin</i>, he +would add, as a good name——far from it——’tis +something better than a neutral, and but a little——yet +little as it is, you see it was of some service to him.</p> + +<p>My father knew the weakness of this prop to his hypothesis, as well +as the best logician could shew him——yet so strange is the +weakness of man at the same time, as it fell in his way, he +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page190" id = "page190">190</a></span> +could not for his life but make use of it; and it was certainly for this +reason, that though there are many stories in <i>Hafen +Slawkenbergius’s</i> Decads full as entertaining as this I am +translating, yet there is not one amongst them which my father read over +with half the delight———it flattered two of his +strangest hypotheses together——his <span class = +"smallcaps">Names</span> and his <span class = +"smallcaps">Noses</span>.——I will be bold to say, he +might have read all the books in the <i>Alexandrian</i> Library, had not +fate taken other care of them, and not have met with a book or passage +in one, which hit two such nails as these upon the head at one +stroke.]</p> + +<p>The two universities of <i>Strasburg</i> were hard tugging at this +affair of <i>Luther’s</i> navigation. The Protestant doctors had +demonstrated, that he had not sailed right before the wind, as the +Popish doctors had pretended; and as every one knew there was no sailing +full in the teeth of it—they were going to settle, in case he had +sailed, how many points he was off; whether <i>Martin</i> had doubled +the cape, or had fallen upon a lee-shore; and no doubt, as it was an +enquiry of much edification, at least to those who understood this sort +of <span class = "smallroman">NAVIGATION</span>, they had gone on with +it in spite of the size of the stranger’s nose, had not the size of the +stranger’s nose drawn off the attention of the world from what they were +about——it was their business to follow.</p> + +<p>The abbess of <i>Quedlingberg</i> and her four dignitaries was no +stop; for the enormity of the stranger’s nose running full as much in +their fancies as their case of conscience——the affair of +their placket-holes kept cold—in a word, the printers were ordered +to distribute their types——all controversies dropp’d.</p> + +<p>’Twas a square cap with a silver tassel upon the crown of it—to +a nut-shell—to have guessed on which side of the nose the two +universities would split.</p> + +<p>’Tis above reason, cried the doctors on one side.</p> + +<p>’Tis below reason, cried the others.</p> + +<p>’Tis faith, cried one.</p> + +<p>’Tis a fiddle-stick, said the other.</p> + +<p>’Tis possible, cried the one.</p> + +<p>’Tis impossible, said the other.</p> + +<p>God’s power is infinite, cried the Nosarians, he can do anything.</p> + +<p>He can do nothing, replied the Antinosarians, which implies +contradictions.</p> + +<p>He can make matter think, said the Nosarians.</p> + +<p>As certainly as you can make a velvet cap out of a sow’s ear, replied +the Antinosarians.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page191" id = "page191">191</a></span> +<p>He cannot make two and two five, replied the Popish +doctors.——’Tis false, said their other <span class = +"locked">opponents.——</span></p> + +<p>Infinite power is infinite power, said the doctors who maintained the +<i>reality</i> of the nose.—It extends only to all possible +things, replied the <i>Lutherans</i>.</p> + +<p>By God in heaven, cried the Popish doctors, he can make a nose, if he +thinks fit, as big as the steeple of <i>Strasburg</i>.</p> + +<p>Now the steeple of <i>Strasburg</i> being the biggest and the tallest +church-steeple to be seen in the whole world, the Antinosarians denied +that a nose of 575 geometrical feet in length could be worn, at least by +a middle-siz’d man——The Popish doctors swore it +could—The <i>Lutheran</i> doctors said No;—it could not.</p> + +<p>This at once started a new dispute, which they pursued a great way, +upon the extent and limitation of the moral and natural attributes of +God—That controversy led them naturally into <i>Thomas +Aquinas</i>, and <i>Thomas Aquinas</i> to the devil.</p> + +<p>The stranger’s nose was no more heard of in the dispute—it just +served as a frigate to launch them into the gulph of +school-divinity——and then they all sailed before the +wind.</p> + +<p>Heat is in proportion to the want of true knowledge.</p> + +<p>The controversy about the attributes, &c., instead of cooling, on +the contrary had inflamed the <i>Strasburgers’</i> imaginations to a +most inordinate degree——The less they understood of the +matter, the greater was their wonder about it—they were left in +all the distresses of desire unsatisfied——saw their doctors, +the <i>Parchmentarians</i>, the <i>Brassarians</i>, the +<i>Turpentarians</i>, on one side—the Popish doctors on the other, +like <i>Pantagruel</i> and his companions in quest of the oracle of the +bottle, all embarked out of sight.</p> + +<p>——The poor <i>Strasburgers</i> left upon the beach!</p> + +<p>——What was to be done?—No delay—the uproar +increased——every one in disorder——the city gates +set <span class = "locked">open.——</span></p> + +<p>Unfortunate <i>Strasburgers!</i> was there in the storehouse of +nature———was there in the lumber-rooms of +learning———was there in the great arsenal of chance, +one single engine left undrawn forth to torture your curiosities, and +stretch your desires, which was not pointed by the hand of Fate to play +upon your hearts?——I dip not my pen into my ink to +excuse the surrender of yourselves—’tis to write your panegyrick. +Shew me a city so macerated with expectation——who neither +eat, or drank, or slept, or prayed, or hearkened to the calls either of +religion or nature for seven-and-twenty days together, who could have +held out one day longer.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page192" id = "page192">192</a></span> +<p>On the twenty-eighth the courteous stranger had promised to return to +<i>Strasburg</i>.</p> + +<p>Seven thousand coaches (<i>Slawkenbergius</i> must certainly have +made some mistake in his numerical characters) 7000 +coaches——15,000 single-horse chairs—20,000 waggons, +crowded as full as they could all hold with senators, counsellors, +syndicks—beguines, widows, wives, virgins, canons, concubines, all +in their coaches—The abbess of <i>Quedlingberg</i>, with the +prioress, the deaness and sub-chantress, leading the procession in one +coach, and the dean of <i>Strasburg</i>, with the four great dignitaries +of his chapter, on her left-hand—the rest following +higglety-pigglety as they could; some on horseback——some on +foot——some led——some driven——some +down the <i>Rhine</i>——some this way——some +that——all set out at sun-rise to meet the courteous stranger +on the road.</p> + +<p>Haste we now towards the catastrophe of my tale———I +say <i>Catastrophe</i> (cries <i>Slawkenbergius</i>) inasmuch as a tale, +with parts rightly disposed, not only rejoiceth (<i>gaudet</i>) in the +<i>Catastrophe</i> and <i>Peripetia</i> of a <span class = +"smallcaps">Drama</span>, but rejoiceth moreover in all the essential +and integrant parts of it——it has its <i>Protasis</i>, +<i>Epitasis</i>, <i>Catastasis</i>, its <i>Catastrophe</i> or +<i>Peripetia</i> growing one out of the other in it, in the order +<i>Aristotle</i> first planted them——without which a tale +had better never be told at all, says <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, but be kept +to a man’s self.</p> + +<p>In all my ten tales, in all my ten decads, have I +<i>Slawkenbergius</i> tied down every tale of them as tightly to this +rule, as I have done this of the stranger and his nose.</p> + +<p>——From his first parley with the sentinel, to his leaving +the city of <i>Strasburg</i>, after pulling off his crimson-sattin pair +of breeches, is the <i>Protasis</i> or first entrance——where +the characters of the <i>Personæ Dramatis</i> are just touched in, and +the subject slightly begun.</p> + +<p>The <i>Epitasis</i>, wherein the action is more fully entered upon +and heightened, till it arrives at its state or height called the +<i>Catastasis</i>, and which usually takes up the 2d and 3d act, is +included within that busy period of my tale, betwixt the first night’s +uproar about the nose, to the conclusion of the trumpeter’s wife’s +lectures upon it in the middle of the grand parade: and from the first +embarking of the learned in the dispute—to the doctors finally +sailing away, and leaving the <i>Strasburgers</i> upon the beach in +distress, is the <i>Catastasis</i> or the ripening of the incidents and +passions for their bursting forth in the fifth act.</p> + +<p>This commences with the setting out of the <i>Strasburgers</i> in +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page193" id = "page193">193</a></span> +the <i>Frankfort</i> road, and terminates in unwinding the labyrinth and +bringing the hero out of a state of agitation (as <i>Aristotle</i> +calls it) to a state of rest and quietness.</p> + +<p>This, says <i>Hafen Slawkenbergius</i>, constitutes the +<i>Catastrophe</i> or <i>Peripetia</i> of my tale—and that is the +part of it I am going to relate.</p> + +<p>We left the stranger behind the curtain asleep——he enters +now upon the stage.</p> + +<p>—What dost thou prick up thy ears at?—’tis nothing but a +man upon a horse——was the last word the stranger uttered to +his mule. It was not proper then to tell the reader, that the mule took +his master’s word for it; and without any more <i>ifs</i> or +<i>ands</i>, let the traveller and his horse pass by.</p> + +<p>The traveller was hastening with all diligence to get to +<i>Strasburg</i> that night. What a fool am I, said the traveller to +himself, when he had rode about a league farther, to think of getting +into <i>Strasburg</i> this +night.—<i>Strasburg!</i>——the great +<i>Strasburg!</i>——<i>Strasburg</i>, the capital of all +<i>Alsatia!</i> <i>Strasburg</i>, an imperial city! <i>Strasburg</i>, +a sovereign state! <i>Strasburg</i>, garrisoned with five thousand +of the best troops in all the world!—Alas! if I was at the gates +of <i>Strasburg</i> this moment, I could not gain admittance into +it for a ducat—nay a ducat and half—’tis too +much——better go back to the last inn I have +passed——than lie I know not where——or give I +know not what. The traveller, as he made these reflections in his mind, +turned his horse’s head about, and three minutes after the stranger had +been conducted into his chamber, he arrived at the same inn.</p> + +<p>———We have bacon in the house, said the host, and +bread———and till eleven o’clock this night had three +eggs in it——but a stranger, who arrived an hour ago, has had +them dressed into an omelet, and we have <span class = +"locked">nothing.———</span></p> + +<p>Alas! said the traveller, harassed as I am, I want nothing but a +bed.———I have one as soft as is in +<i>Alsatia</i>, said the host.</p> + +<p>——The stranger, continued he, should have slept in it, +for ’tis my best bed, but upon the score of his +nose.————He has got a defluxion, said the +traveller.——Not that I know, cried the +host.——But ’tis a camp-bed, and <i>Jacinta</i>, said he, +looking towards the maid, imagined there was not room in it to turn his +nose in.———Why so? cried the traveller, starting +back.—It is so long a nose, replied the host.——The +traveller fixed his eyes upon <i>Jacinta</i>, then upon the +ground—kneeled upon his right knee—had just got his hand +laid upon his breast +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page194" id = "page194">194</a></span> +———Trifle not with my anxiety, said he, rising up +again.——’Tis no trifle, said <i>Jacinta</i>, ’tis the most +glorious nose!——The traveller fell upon his knee +again—laid his hand upon his breast—then, said he, looking +up to heaven, thou hast conducted me to the end of my +pilgrimage.—’Tis <i>Diego</i>.</p> + +<p>The traveller was the brother of the <i>Julia</i>, so often invoked +that night by the stranger as he rode from <i>Strasburg</i> upon his +mule; and was come, on her part, in quest of him. He had accompanied his +sister from <i>Valadolid</i> across the <i>Pyrenean</i> mountains +through <i>France</i>, and had many an entangled skein to wind off in +pursuit of him through the many meanders and abrupt turnings of a +lover’s thorny tracks.</p> + +<p>——<i>Julia</i> had sunk under it———and +had not been able to go a step farther than to <i>Lyons</i>, where, with +the many disquietudes of a tender heart, which all talk +of——but few feel—she sicken’d, but had just strength +to write a letter to <i>Diego</i>; and having conjured her brother never +to see her face till he had found him out, and put the letter into his +hands, <i>Julia</i> took to her bed.</p> + +<p><i>Fernandez</i> (for that was her brother’s name)——tho’ +the camp-bed was as soft as any one in <i>Alsace</i>, yet he could not +shut his eyes in it.——As soon as it was day he rose, and +hearing <i>Diego</i> was risen too, he entered his chamber, and +discharged his sister’s commission.</p> + +<p>The letter was as follows:</p> + + +<p class = "inset"> +“Seig. <span class = "smallcaps">Diego</span>,</p> + +<p>“Whether my suspicions of your nose were justly excited or +not———’tis not now to inquire—it is enough I +have not had firmness to put them to farther tryal.</p> + +<p>“How could I know so little of myself, when I sent my <i>Duenna</i> +to forbid your coming more under my lattice? or how could I know so +little of you, <i>Diego</i>, as to imagine you would not have staid one +day in <i>Valadolid</i> to have given ease to my doubts?—Was I to +be abandoned, <i>Diego</i>, because I was deceived? or was it kind to +take me at my word, whether my suspicions were just or no, and leave me, +as you did, a prey to much uncertainty and sorrow?</p> + +<p>“In what manner <i>Julia</i> has resented this——my +brother, when he puts this letter into your hands, will tell you; He +will tell you in how few moments she repented of the rash message she +had sent you——in what frantic haste she flew to her lattice, +and how many days and nights together she leaned +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page195" id = "page195">195</a></span> +immoveably upon her elbow, looking through it towards the way which +<i>Diego</i> was wont to come.</p> + +<p>“He will tell you, when she heard of your departure—how her +spirits deserted her——how her heart +sicken’d——how piteously she mourned——how low she +hung her head. O <i>Diego!</i> how many weary steps has my +brother’s pity led me by the hand languishing to trace out yours; how +far has desire carried me beyond strength——and how oft have +I fainted by the way, and sunk into his arms, with only power to cry +out—O my <i>Diego!</i></p> + +<p>“If the gentleness of your carriage has not belied your heart, you +will fly to me, almost as fast as you fled from me—haste as you +will——you will arrive but to see me +expire.———’Tis a bitter draught, <i>Diego</i>, but oh! +’tis embitter’d still more by dying +<i>un</i>————”</p> + + +<p class = "space"> +She could proceed no farther.</p> + +<p><i>Slawkenbergius</i> supposes the word intended was +<i>unconvinced</i>, but her strength would not enable her to finish her +letter.</p> + +<p>The heart of the courteous <i>Diego</i> overflowed as he read the +letter———he ordered his mule forthwith and +<i>Fernandez’s</i> horse to be saddled; and as no vent in prose is equal +to that of poetry in such conflicts——chance, which as often +directs us to remedies as to <i>diseases</i>, having thrown a piece of +charcoal into the window——<i>Diego</i> availed himself of +it, and whilst the hostler was getting ready his mule, he eased his mind +against the wall as follows.</p> + +<div class = "verse ital"> +<h5>ODE</h5> + +<p>Harsh and untuneful are the notes of love,</p> +<p class = "indent">Unless my <em>Julia</em> strikes the key,</p> +<p>Her hand alone can touch the part,</p> +<p class = "indent">Whose dulcet move-</p> +<p class = "indent2">ment charms the heart,</p> +<p>And governs all the man with sympathetick sway.</p> + +<h5 class = "final">2d</h5> +</div> + +<p>O Julia!</p> + +<p class = "space"> +The lines were very natural——for they were nothing at all to +the purpose, says <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, and ’tis a pity there were no +more of them; but whether it was that Seig. <i>Diego</i> was slow in +composing verses—or the hostler quick in saddling +mules——is +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page196" id = "page196">196</a></span> +not averred; certain it was, that <i>Diego’s</i> mule and +<i>Fernandez’s</i> horse were ready at the door of the inn, before +<i>Diego</i> was ready for his second stanza; so without staying to +finish his ode, they both mounted, sallied forth, passed the +<i>Rhine</i>, traversed <i>Alsace</i>, shaped their course towards +<i>Lyons</i>, and before the <i>Strasburgers</i> and the abbess of +<i>Quedlingberg</i> had set out on their cavalcade, had +<i>Fernandez</i>, <i>Diego</i>, and his <i>Julia</i>, crossed the +<i>Pyrenean</i> mountains, and got safe to <i>Valadolid</i>.</p> + +<p>’Tis needless to inform the geographical reader, that when +<i>Diego</i> was in <i>Spain</i>, it was not possible to meet the +courteous stranger in the <i>Frankfort</i> road; it is enough to say, +that of all restless desires, curiosity being the +strongest——the <i>Strasburgers</i> felt the full force of +it; and that for three days and nights they were tossed to and fro in +the <i>Frankfort</i> road, with the tempestuous fury of this passion, +before they could submit to return home.——When alas! an +event was prepared for them, of all other, the most grievous that could +befal a free people.</p> + +<p>As this revolution of the <i>Strasburgers’</i> affairs is often +spoken of, and little understood, I will, in ten words, says +<i>Slawkenbergius</i>, give the world an explanation of it, and with it +put an end to my tale.</p> + +<p>Every body knows of the grand system of Universal Monarchy, wrote by +order of Mons. <i>Colbert</i>, and put in manuscript into the hands of +<i>Lewis</i> the fourteenth, in the year 1664.</p> + +<p>’Tis as well known, that one branch out of many of that system, was +the getting possession of <i>Strasburg</i>, to favour an entrance at all +times into <i>Suabia</i>, in order to disturb the quiet of +<i>Germany</i>——and that in consequence of this plan, +<i>Strasburg</i> unhappily fell at length into their hands.</p> + +<p>It is the lot of a few to trace out the true springs of this and such +like revolutions—The vulgar look too high for them—Statesmen +look too low——Truth (for once) lies in the middle.</p> + +<p>What a fatal thing is the popular pride of a free city! cries one +historian—The <i>Strasburgers</i> deemed it a diminution of their +freedom to receive an imperial garrison——so fell a prey to a +<i>French</i> one.</p> + +<p>The fate, says another, of the <i>Strasburgers</i>, may be a warning +to all free people to save their money.———They +anticipated their revenues——brought themselves under taxes, +exhausted their strength, and in the end became so weak a people, they +had not strength to keep their gates shut, and so the <i>French</i> +pushed them open.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page197" id = "page197">197</a></span> +<p>Alas! alas! cries <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, ’twas not the +<i>French</i>,——’twas <span class = +"smallroman">CURIOSITY</span> pushed them open———The +<i>French</i> indeed, who are ever upon the catch, when they saw the +<i>Strasburgers</i>, men, women, and children, all marched out to follow +the stranger’s nose——each man followed his own, and +marched in.</p> + +<p>Trade and manufactures have decayed and gradually grown down ever +since—but not from any cause which commercial heads have assigned; +for it is owing to this only, that Noses have ever so run in their +heads, that the <i>Strasburgers</i> could not follow their business.</p> + +<p>Alas! alas! cries <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, making an +exclamation—it is not the first——and I fear will not +be the last fortress that has been either won——or lost by +<span class = "smallcaps">Noses</span>.</p> + +<h5 class = "final"> +<span class = "smallroman">THE END OF</span><br /> +<i>Slawkenbergius’s</i> <span class = "smallcaps">Tale</span></h5> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapI" id = "bookIV_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">With</span> all this learning upon Noses +running perpetually in my father’s fancy——with so many +family prejudices—and ten decads of such tales running on for ever +along with them——how was it possible with such +exquisite——was it a true nose?——That a man with +such exquisite feelings as my father had, could bear the shock at all +below stairs——or indeed above stairs, in any other posture, +but the very posture I have described?</p> + +<p>——Throw yourself down upon the bed, a dozen +times——taking care only to place a looking-glass first in a +chair on one side of it, before you do it—But was the stranger’s +nose a true nose, or was it a false one?</p> + +<p>To tell that before-hand, madam, would be to do injury to one of the +best tales in the Christian-world; and that is the tenth of the tenth +decad, which immediately follows this.</p> + +<p>This tale, cried <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, somewhat exultingly, has been +reserved by me for the concluding tale of my whole work; knowing right +well, that when I shall have told it, and my reader shall have read it +thro’—’twould be even high time for both of us to shut up the +book; inasmuch, continues <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, as I know of no tale +which could possibly ever go down after it.</p> + +<p class = "indent"> +’Tis a tale indeed!</p> + +<p>This sets out with the first interview in the inn at <i>Lyons</i>, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page198" id = "page198">198</a></span> +when <i>Fernandez</i> left the courteous stranger and his sister +<i>Julia</i> alone in her chamber, and is over-written</p> + +<h5><span class = "smallcaps extended">The Intricacies</span><br /> +<span class = "smallcaps">of</span><br /> +<i>Diego</i> and <i>Julia</i></h5> + +<p>Heavens! thou art a strange creature, <i>Slawkenbergius!</i> what a +whimsical view of the involutions of the heart of woman hast thou +opened! how this can ever be translated, and yet if this specimen of +<i>Slawkenbergius’s</i> tales, and the exquisitiveness of his moral, +should please the world—translated shall a couple of volumes +be.———Else, how this can ever be translated into good +<i>English</i>, I have no sort of conception.—There seems in +some passages to want a sixth sense to do it rightly.——What +can he mean by the lambent pupilability of slow, low, dry chat, five +notes below the natural tone——which you know, madam, is +little more than a whisper? The moment I pronounced the words, +I could perceive an attempt towards a vibration in the strings, +about the region of the heart.———The brain made no +acknowledgment.——There’s often no good understanding betwixt +’em—I felt as if I understood it.——I had no +ideas.——The movement could not be without cause.—I’m +lost. I can make nothing of it—unless, may it please your +worships, the voice, in that case being little more than a whisper, +unavoidably forces the eyes to approach not only within six inches of +each other—but to look into the pupils—is not that +dangerous?——But it can’t be avoided—for to look up to +the ceiling, in that case the two chins unavoidably +meet——and to look down into each other’s lap, the foreheads +come to immediate contact, which at once puts an end to the +conference——I mean to the sentimental part of +it.——What is left, madam, is not worth stooping for.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapII" id = "bookIV_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father lay stretched across the +bed as still as if the hand of death had pushed him down, for a full +hour and a half before he began to play upon the floor with the toe of +that foot which hung over the bed-side; my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> heart was +a pound lighter for it.———In a few moments, his +left-hand, the knuckles of which had all the time reclined upon the +handle of the chamber-pot, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page199" id = "page199">199</a></span> +came to its feeling—he thrust it a little more within the +valance—drew up his hand, when he had done, into his +bosom—gave a hem! My good uncle <i>Toby</i>, with infinite +pleasure, answered it; and full gladly would have ingrafted a sentence +of consolation upon the opening it afforded: but having no talents, as I +said, that way, and fearing moreover that he might set out with +something which might make a bad matter worse, he contented himself with +resting his chin placidly upon the cross of his crutch.</p> + +<p>Now whether the compression shortened my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> face +into a more pleasurable oval—or that the philanthropy of his +heart, in seeing his brother beginning to emerge out of the sea of his +afflictions, had braced up his muscles——so that the +compression upon his chin only doubled the benignity which was there +before, is not hard to decide.——My father, in turning his +eyes, was struck with such a gleam of sunshine in his face, as melted +down the sullenness of his grief in a moment.</p> + +<p>He broke silence as follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapIII" id = "bookIV_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Did</span> ever man, brother <i>Toby</i>, +cried my father, raising himself upon his elbow, and turning himself +round to the opposite side of the bed, where my uncle <i>Toby</i> was +sitting in his old fringed chair, with his chin resting upon his +crutch——did ever a poor unfortunate man, brother +<i>Toby</i>, cried my father, receive so many lashes?——The +most I ever saw given, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i> (ringing the bell at +the bed’s head for <i>Trim</i>) was to a grenadier, I think in +<i>Mackay’s</i> regiment.</p> + +<p>———Had my uncle <i>Toby</i> shot a bullet through +my father’s heart, he could not have fallen down with his nose upon the +quilt more suddenly.</p> + +<p>Bless me! said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapIV" id = "bookIV_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Was</span> it <i>Mackay’s</i> regiment, +quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, where the poor grenadier was so unmercifully +whipp’d at <i>Bruges</i> about the ducats?—O Christ! he was +innocent! cried <i>Trim</i>, with a deep sigh.—And he was whipp’d, +may it please your honour, almost to death’s door.—They had better +have shot him outright, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page200" id = "page200">200</a></span> +as he begg’d, and he had gone directly to heaven, for he was as innocent +as your honour.———I thank thee, <i>Trim</i>, +quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——I never think of his, +continued <i>Trim</i>, and my poor brother <i>Tom’s</i> misfortunes, for +we were all three school-fellows, but I cry like a +coward.——Tears are no proof of cowardice, +<i>Trim</i>.—I drop them oft-times myself, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——I know your honour does, replied +<i>Trim</i>, and so am not ashamed of it myself.—But to think, may +it please your honour, continued <i>Trim</i>, a tear stealing into +the corner of his eye as he spoke—to think of two virtuous lads +with hearts as warm in their bodies, and as honest as God could make +them—the children of honest people, going forth with gallant +spirits to seek their fortunes in the world—and fall into such +evils!—poor <i>Tom!</i> to be tortured upon a rack for +nothing—but marrying a Jew’s widow who sold sausages—honest +<i>Dick Johnson’s</i> soul to be scourged out of his body, for the +ducats another man put into his knapsack!—O!—these are +misfortunes, cried <i>Trim</i>,—pulling out his +handkerchief—these are misfortunes, may it please your honour, +worth lying down and crying over.</p> + +<p>—My father could not help blushing.</p> + +<p>’Twould be a pity, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, thou +shouldst ever feel sorrow of thy own—thou feelest it so tenderly +for others.—Alack-o-day, replied the corporal, brightening up his +face———your honour knows I have neither wife or +child——I can have no sorrows in this +world.——My father could not help smiling.—As few as +any man, <i>Trim</i>, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>; nor can I see how a +fellow of thy light heart can suffer, but from the distress of poverty +in thy old age—when thou art passed all services, +<i>Trim</i>—and hast outlived thy friends.——An’ please +your honour, never fear, replied <i>Trim</i>, chearily.——But +I would have thee never fear, <i>Trim</i>, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +and therefore, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, throwing down his crutch, +and getting up upon his legs as he uttered the word +<i>therefore</i>—in recompence, <i>Trim</i>, of thy long fidelity +to me, and that goodness of thy heart I have had such proofs +of—whilst thy master is worth a shilling——thou shalt +never ask elsewhere, <i>Trim</i>, for a penny. <i>Trim</i> attempted to +thank my uncle <i>Toby</i>—but had not power——tears +trickled down his cheeks faster than he could wipe them off—He +laid his hands upon his breast——made a bow to the ground, +and shut the door.</p> + +<p>——I have left <i>Trim</i> my bowling-green, cried my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.——My father +smiled.———I have left him moreover a pension, +continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——My father looked grave.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page201" id = "page201">201</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapV" id = "bookIV_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Is</span> this a fit time, said my father +to himself, to talk of <span class = "smallroman">PENSIONS</span> and +<span class = "smallroman">GRENADIERS</span>?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapVI" id = "bookIV_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> first +mentioned the grenadier, my father, I said, fell down with his nose +flat to the quilt, and as suddenly as if my uncle <i>Toby</i> had shot +him; but it was not added that every other limb and member of my father +instantly relapsed with his nose into the same precise attitude in which +he lay first described; so that when corporal <i>Trim</i> left the room, +and my father found himself disposed to rise off the bed—he had +all the little preparatory movements to run over again, before he could +do it. Attitudes are nothing, madam——’tis the transition +from one attitude to another——like the preparation and +resolution of the discord into harmony, which is all in all.</p> + +<p>For which reason my father played the same jig over again with his +toe upon the floor——pushed the chamber-pot still a little +farther within the valance—gave a hem—raised himself up upon +his elbow—and was just beginning to address himself to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—when recollecting the unsuccessfulness of his first +effort in that attitude——he got upon his legs, and in making +the third turn across the room, he stopped short before my uncle +<i>Toby</i>: and laying the three first fingers of his right-hand in the +palm of his left, and stooping a little, he addressed himself to my +uncle <i>Toby</i> as follows:</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapVII" id = "bookIV_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> I reflect, brother <i>Toby</i>, +upon <span class = "smallroman">MAN</span>; and take a view of that dark +side of him which represents his life as open to so many causes of +trouble—when I consider, brother <i>Toby</i>, how oft we eat the +bread of affliction, and that we are born to it, as to the portion of +our inheritance———I was born to nothing, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, interrupting my father—but my commission. +Zooks! said my father, did not my uncle leave you a hundred and twenty +pounds a year?———What could I have done without +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page202" id = "page202">202</a></span> +it? replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>———That’s another +concern, said my father testily—But I say, <i>Toby</i>, when one +runs over the catalogue of all the cross-reckonings and sorrowful +<i>Items</i> with which the heart of man is overcharged, ’tis wonderful +by what hidden resources the mind is enabled to stand out, and bear +itself up, as it does, against the impositions laid upon our +nature.———’Tis by the assistance of Almighty God, +cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking up, and pressing the palms of his +hands close together——’tis not from our own strength, +brother <i>Shandy</i>——a centinel in a wooden +centry-box might as well pretend to stand it out against a detachment of +fifty men.——We are upheld by the grace and the assistance of +the best of Beings.</p> + +<p>——That is cutting the knot, said my father, instead of +untying it.——But give me leave to lead you, brother +<i>Toby</i>, a little deeper into the mystery.</p> + +<p>With all my heart, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>My father instantly exchanged the attitude he was in, for that in +which <i>Socrates</i> is so finely painted by <i>Raffael</i> in his +school of <i>Athens</i>; which your connoisseurship knows is so +exquisitely imagined, that even the particular manner of the reasoning +of <i>Socrates</i> is expressed by it—for he holds the forefinger +of his left hand between the forefinger and the thumb of his right, and +seems as if he was saying to the libertine he is +reclaiming———“<i>You grant me</i> +this——and this: and this, and this, I don’t ask of +you—they follow of themselves in course.”</p> + +<p>So stood my father, holding fast his forefinger betwixt his finger +and his thumb, and reasoning with my uncle <i>Toby</i> as he sat in his +old fringed chair, valanced around with party-coloured worsted +bobs——O <i>Garrick!</i>—what a rich scene of this +would thy exquisite powers make! and how gladly would I write such +another to avail myself of thy immortality, and secure my own +behind it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapVIII" id = "bookIV_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Though</span> man is of all others the most +curious vehicle, said my father, yet at the same time ’tis of so slight +a frame, and so totteringly put together, that the sudden jerks and hard +jostlings it unavoidably meets with in this rugged journey, would +overset and tear it to pieces a dozen times a day——was it +not, brother <i>Toby</i>, that there is a secret spring within +us.—Which spring, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I take to be +Religion.—Will that set my +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page203" id = "page203">203</a></span> +child’s nose on? cried my father, letting go his finger, and striking +one hand against the other.——It makes everything straight +for us, answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——Figuratively +speaking, dear <i>Toby</i>, it may, for aught I know, said my father; +but the spring I am speaking of, is that great and elastic power within +us of counterbalancing evil, which, like a secret spring in a +well-ordered machine, though it can’t prevent the shock——at +least it imposes upon our sense of it.</p> + +<p>Now, my dear brother, said my father, replacing his forefinger, as he +was coming closer to the point——had my child arrived safe +into the world, unmartyr’d in that precious part of him—fanciful +and extravagant as I may appear to the world in my opinion of christian +names, and of that magic bias which good or bad names irresistibly +impress upon our characters and conducts—Heaven is witness! that +in the warmest transports of my wishes for the prosperity of my child, +I never once wished to crown his head with more glory and honour +than what <span class = "smallcaps">George</span> or <span class = +"smallcaps">Edward</span> would have spread around it.</p> + +<p>But alas! continued my father, as the greatest evil has befallen +him——I must counteract and undo it with the greatest +good.</p> + +<p>He shall be christened <i>Trismegistus</i>, brother.</p> + +<p>I wish it may answer——replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +rising up.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapIX" id = "bookIV_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">What</span> a chapter of chances, said my +father, turning himself about upon the first landing, as he and my uncle +<i>Toby</i> were going downstairs—what a long chapter of chances +do the events of this world lay open to us! Take pen and ink in hand, +brother <i>Toby</i>, and calculate it fairly——I know no +more of calculation than this balluster, said my uncle <i>Toby</i> +(striking short of it with his crutch, and hitting my father a desperate +blow souse upon his shin-bone)——’Twas a hundred to +one—cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>—I thought, quoth my +father (rubbing his shin), you had known nothing of calculations, +brother <i>Toby</i>. ’Tis a mere chance, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.———Then it adds one to the +chapter——replied my father.</p> + +<p>The double success of my father’s repartees tickled off the pain of +his shin at once—it was well it so fell out—(chance! +again)—or the world to this day had never known the subject of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page204" id = "page204">204</a></span> +my father’s calculation——to guess it—there was no +chance——What a lucky chapter of chances has this turned out! +for it has saved me the trouble of writing one express, and in truth I +have enough already upon my hands without it.—Have not I promised +the world a chapter of knots? two chapters upon the right and the wrong +end of a woman? a chapter upon whiskers? a chapter upon +wishes?——a chapter of noses?—No, I have done +that—a chapter upon my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> modesty? to say +nothing of a chapter upon chapters, which I will finish before I +sleep—by my great-grandfather’s whiskers, I shall never get +half of ’em through this year.</p> + +<p>Take pen and ink in hand, and calculate it fairly, brother +<i>Toby</i>, said my father, and it will turn out a million to one, that +of all the parts of the body, the edge of the forceps should have the +ill luck just to fall upon and break down that one part, which should +break down the fortunes of our house with it.</p> + +<p>It might have been worse, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——I don’t comprehend, said my +father.———Suppose the hip had presented, replied my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, as Dr. <i>Slop</i> foreboded.</p> + +<p>My father reflected half a minute—looked +down——touched the middle of his forehead slightly with his +<span class = "locked">finger———</span></p> + +<p>—True, said he.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapX" id = "bookIV_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Is</span> it not a shame to make two +chapters of what passed in going down one pair of stairs? for we are got +no farther yet than to the first landing, and there are fifteen more +steps down to the bottom; and for aught I know, as my father and my +uncle <i>Toby</i> are in a talking humour, there may be as many chapters +as steps:——let that be as it will, Sir, I can no more +help it than my destiny:—A sudden impulse comes across +me——drop the curtain, <i>Shandy</i>——I drop +it—Strike a line here across the paper, +<i>Tristram</i>—I strike it—and hey for a new +chapter.</p> + +<p>The deuce of any other rule have I to govern myself by in this +affair—and if I had one—as I do all things out of all +rule—I would twist it and tear it to pieces, and throw it +into the fire when I had done—Am I warm? I am, and the cause +demands it——a pretty story! is a man to follow +rules———or rules to follow him?</p> + +<p>Now this, you must know, being my chapter upon chapters, which I +promised to write before I went to sleep, I thought it +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page205" id = "page205">205</a></span> +meet to ease my conscience entirely before I laid down, by telling the +world all I knew about the matter at once: Is not this ten times better +than to set out dogmatically with a sententious parade of wisdom, and +telling the world a story of a roasted horse——that chapters +relieve the mind—that they assist—or impose upon the +imagination—and that in a work of this dramatic cast they are as +necessary as the shifting of scenes——with fifty other cold +conceits, enough to extinguish the fire which roasted him?—O! but +to understand this, which is a puff at the fire of <i>Diana’s</i> +temple—you must read <i>Longinus</i>—read away—if you +are not a jot the wiser by reading him the first time over—never +fear—read him again—<i>Avicenna</i> and <i>Licetus</i> read +<i>Aristotle’s</i> metaphysicks forty times through apiece, and never +understood a single word.—But mark the +consequence—<i>Avicenna</i> turned out a desperate writer at all +kinds of writing—for he wrote books <i>de omni scribili</i>; and +for <i>Licetus</i> (<i>Fortunio</i>) though all the world knows he was +born a fœtus,<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_6" id = "tag_4_6" href = +"#note_4_6">6</a> of no more than five inches and a half in length, yet +he grew to that astonishing height in literature, as to write a book +with a title as long as himself———the learned know I +mean his <i>Gonopsychanthropologia</i>, upon the origin of the human +soul.</p> + +<p>So much for my chapter upon chapters, which I hold to be the best +chapter in my whole work; and take my word, whoever reads it, is full as +well employed, as in picking straws.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page206" id = "page206">206</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXI" id = "bookIV_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">We</span> shall bring all things to rights, +said my father, setting his foot upon the first step from the +landing.—This <i>Trismegistus</i>, continued my father, drawing +his leg back and turning to my uncle <i>Toby</i>——was the +greatest (<i>Toby</i>) of all earthly beings—he was the greatest +king——the greatest law-giver——the greatest +philosopher——and the greatest priest——and +engineer—said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>———In course, said my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXII" id = "bookIV_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">And</span> how does your mistress? +cried my father, taking the same step over again from the landing, and +calling to <i>Susannah</i>, whom he saw passing by the foot of the +stairs with a huge pincushion in her hand—how does your mistress? +As well, said <i>Susannah</i>, tripping by, but without looking up, as +can be expected.—What a fool am I! said my father, drawing his leg +back again—let things be as they will, brother <i>Toby</i>, ’tis +ever the precise answer——And how is the child, +pray?——No answer. And where is Dr. <i>Slop?</i> added my +father, raising his voice aloud, and looking over the +ballusters—<i>Susannah</i> was out of hearing.</p> + +<p>Of all the riddles of a married life, said my father, crossing the +landing in order to set his back against the wall, whilst he propounded +it to my uncle <i>Toby</i>——of all the puzzling riddles, +said he, in a marriage state,——of which you may trust me, +brother <i>Toby</i>, there are more asses loads than all <i>Job’s</i> +stock of asses could have carried——there is not one that has +more intricacies in it than this—that from the very moment the +mistress of the house is brought to bed, every female in it, from my +lady’s gentlewoman down to the cinder-wench, becomes an inch taller for +it; and give themselves more airs upon that single inch, than all their +other inches put together.</p> + +<p>I think rather, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, that ’tis we who sink +an inch lower.—If I meet but a woman with child—I do +it.—’Tis a heavy tax upon that half of our fellow-creatures, +brother <i>Shandy</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>—’Tis a piteous +burden upon ’em, continued he, shaking his head—Yes, yes, ’tis a +painful thing—said +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page207" id = "page207">207</a></span> +my father, shaking his head too——but certainly since shaking +of heads came into fashion, never did two heads shake together, in +concert, from two such different springs.</p> + +<table class = "inline" summary = "aligned text"> +<tr> +<td> +God bless<br /> +Deuce take</td> +<td class = "bracket"> +’em all———said my uncle <i>Toby</i> and my father, +each to himself. +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXIII" id = "bookIV_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Holla</span>!——you, +chairman!——here’s sixpence——do step into that +bookseller’s shop, and call me a <i>day-tall</i> critick. I am very +willing to give any one of ’em a crown to help me with his tackling, to +get my father and my uncle <i>Toby</i> off the stairs, and to put them +to bed.</p> + +<p>—’Tis even high time; for except a short nap, which they both +got whilst <i>Trim</i> was boring the jack-boots—and which, by the +bye, did my father no sort of good, upon the score of the bad +hinge—they have not else shut their eyes, since nine hours before +the time that Dr. <i>Slop</i> was led into the back parlour in that +dirty pickle by <i>Obadiah</i>.</p> + +<p>Was every day of my life to be as busy a day as this—and to +take up—Truce.</p> + +<p>I will not finish that sentence till I have made an observation upon +the strange state of affairs between the reader and myself, just as +things stand at present—an observation never applicable before to +any one biographical writer since the creation of the world, but to +myself—and I believe, will never hold good to any other, until its +final destruction—and therefore, for the very novelty of it alone, +it must be worth your worships attending to.</p> + +<p>I am this month one whole year older than I was this time +twelve-month; and having got, as you perceive, almost into the middle of +my fourth volume<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_7" id = "tag_4_7" href = +"#note_4_7">7</a>—and no farther than to my first day’s +life—’tis demonstrative that I have three hundred and sixty-four +days more life to write just now, than when I first set out; so that +instead of advancing, as a common writer, in my work with what I have +been doing at it—on the contrary, I am just thrown so many +volumes back—was every day of my life to be as busy a day as +this—And why not?——and the transactions and opinions +of it to take up as much description—And for what reason should +they be cut short? as at this rate I should just live 364 times faster +than I should write—It must +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page208" id = "page208">208</a></span> +follow, an’ please your worships, that the more I write, the more I +shall have to write—and consequently, the more your worships read, +the more your worships will have to read.</p> + +<p>Will this be good for your worships’ eyes?</p> + +<p>It will do well for mine; and, was it not that my <span class = +"smallcaps">Opinions</span> will be the death of me, I perceive I +shall lead a fine life of it out of this self-same life of mine; or, in +other words, shall lead a couple of fine lives together.</p> + +<p>As for the proposal of twelve volumes a year, or a volume a month, it +no way alters my prospect—write as I will, and rush as I may into +the middle of things, as <i>Horace</i> advises—I shall never +overtake myself whipp’d and driven to the last pinch; at the worst I +shall have one day the start of my pen—and one day is enough for +two volumes——and two volumes will be enough for one <span +class = "locked">year.—</span></p> + +<p>Heaven prosper the manufacturers of paper under this propitious +reign, which is now opened to us——as I trust its providence +will prosper everything else in it that is taken in <span class = +"locked">hand.——</span></p> + +<p>As for the propagation of Geese—I give myself no +concern—Nature is all bountiful—I shall never want +tools to work with.</p> + +<p>—So then, friend! you have got my father and my uncle +<i>Toby</i> off the stairs, and seen them to +bed?———And how did you manage it?——You +dropp’d a curtain at the stair-foot—I thought you had no +other way for it———Here’s a crown for your +trouble.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXIV" id = "bookIV_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">Then</span> reach me my breeches off +the chair, said my father to <i>Susannah</i>.——There is not +a moment’s time to dress you, Sir, cried <i>Susannah</i>—the child +is as black in the face as my——As your what? said my father, +for like all orators, he was a dear searcher into +comparisons.—Bless me, Sir, said <i>Susannah</i>, the child’s in a +fit.—And where’s Mr. <i>Yorick?</i>—Never where he should +be, said <i>Susannah</i>, but his curate’s in the dressing-room, with +the child upon his arm, waiting for the name—and my mistress bid +me run as fast as I could to know, as captain <i>Shandy</i> is the +godfather, whether it should not be called after him.</p> + +<p>Were one sure, said my father to himself, scratching his eyebrow, +that the child was expiring, one might as well compliment +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page209" id = "page209">209</a></span> +my brother <i>Toby</i> as not—and it would be a pity, in such a +case, to throw away so great a name as <i>Trismegistus</i> upon +him——but he may recover.</p> + +<p>No, no,——said my father to <i>Susannah</i>, I’ll get +up———There is no time, cried <i>Susannah</i>, the +child’s as black as my shoe. <i>Trismegistus</i>, said my +father———But stay—thou art a leaky vessel, +<i>Susannah</i>, added my father; canst thou carry <i>Trismegistus</i> +in thy head, the length of the gallery without +scattering?———Can I? cried <i>Susannah</i>, shutting +the door in a huff.——If she can, I’ll be shot, said my +father, bouncing out of bed in the dark, and groping for his +breeches.</p> + +<p><i>Susannah</i> ran with all speed along the gallery.</p> + +<p>My father made all possible speed to find his breeches.</p> + +<p><i>Susannah</i> got the start, and kept it—’Tis +<i>Tris</i>—something, cried <i>Susannah</i>—There is no +christian-name in the world, said the curate, beginning with +<i>Tris</i>—but <i>Tristram</i>. Then ’tis <i>Tristram-gistus</i>, +quoth <i>Susannah</i>.</p> + +<p>——There is no <i>gistus</i> to it, noodle!—’tis my +own name, replied the curate, dipping his hand, as he spoke, into the +bason—<i>Tristram!</i> said he, &c. &c. &c. &c., +so <i>Tristram</i> was I called, and <i>Tristram</i> shall I be to the +day of my death.</p> + +<p>My father followed <i>Susannah</i>, with his night-gown across his +arm, with nothing more than his breeches on, fastened through haste with +but a single button, and that button through haste thrust only half into +the button-hole.</p> + +<p>——She has not forgot the name? cried my father, half +opening the door.——No, no, said the curate, with a tone of +intelligence.——And the child is better, cried +<i>Susannah</i>.——And how does your mistress? As well, said +<i>Susannah</i>, as can be expected.—Pish! said my father, the +button of his breeches slipping out of the button-hole—So that +whether the interjection was levelled at <i>Susannah</i>, or the +button-hole—whether Pish was an interjection of contempt or an +interjection of modesty, is a doubt, and must be a doubt till I shall +have time to write the three following favourite chapters, that is, my +chapter of <i>chamber-maids</i>, my chapter of <i>pishes</i>, and my +chapter of <i>button-holes</i>.</p> + +<p>All the light I am able to give the reader at present is this, that +the moment my father cried Pish! he whisk’d himself about—and with +his breeches held up by one hand, and his night-gown thrown across the +arm of the other, he turned along the gallery to bed, something slower +than he came.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page210" id = "page210">210</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXV" id = "bookIV_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I wish</span> I could write a chapter upon +sleep.</p> + +<p>A fitter occasion could never have presented itself, than what this +moment offers, when all the curtains of the family are drawn—the +candles put out—and no creature’s eyes are open but a single one, +for the other has been shut these twenty years, of my mother’s +nurse.</p> + +<p>It is a fine subject!</p> + +<p>And yet, as fine as it is, I would undertake to write a dozen +chapters upon button-holes, both quicker and with more fame, than a +single chapter upon this.</p> + +<p>Button-holes! there is something lively in the very idea of +’em——and trust me, when I get amongst ’em——You +gentry with great beards——look as grave as you +will———I’ll make merry work with my +button-holes—I shall have ’em all to myself—’tis a +maiden subject—I shall run foul of no man’s wisdom or fine +sayings in it.</p> + +<p>But for sleep——I know I shall make nothing of it before I +begin—I am no dab at your fine sayings in the first +place—and in the next, I cannot for my soul set a grave face +upon a bad matter, and tell the world—’tis the refuge of the +unfortunate—the enfranchisement of the prisoner—the downy +lap of the hopeless, the weary, and the broken-hearted; nor could I set +out with a lye in my mouth, by affirming, that of all the soft and +delicious functions of our nature, by which the great Author of it, in +his bounty, has been pleased to recompense the sufferings wherewith his +justice and his good pleasure has wearied us——that this is +the chiefest (I know pleasures worth ten of it); or what a +happiness it is to man, when the anxieties and passions of the day are +over, and he lies down upon his back, that his soul shall be so seated +within him, that whichever way she turns her eyes, the heavens shall +look calm and sweet above her—no desire—or fear—or +doubt that troubles the air, nor any difficulty past, present, or to +come, that the imagination may not pass over without offence, in that +sweet secession.</p> + +<p>“God’s blessing,” said <i>Sancho Pança</i>, “be upon the man who +first invented this self-same thing called sleep—it covers a man +all over like a cloak.” Now there is more to me in this, and it speaks +warmer to my heart and affections, than all the dissertations squeez’d +out of the heads of the learned together upon the subject.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page211" id = "page211">211</a></span> +<p>—Not that I altogether disapprove of what <i>Montaigne</i> +advances upon it—’tis admirable in its way—(I quote by +memory).</p> + +<p>The world enjoys other pleasures, says he, as they do that of sleep, +without tasting or feeling it as it slips and passes by.—We should +study and ruminate upon it, in order to render proper thanks to him who +grants it to us.—For this end I cause myself to be disturbed in my +sleep, that I may the better and more sensibly relish +it.——And yet I see few, says he again, who live with less +sleep, when need requires; my body is capable of a firm, but not of a +violent and sudden agitation—I evade of late all violent +exercises——I am never weary with +walking——but from my youth, I never liked to ride upon +pavements. I love to lie hard and alone, and even without my +wife——This last word may stagger the faith of the +world——but remember, “La Vraisemblance (as <i>Bayle</i> +says in the affair of <i>Liceti</i>) n’est pas toujours du Côté de la +Verité.” And so much for sleep.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXVI" id = "bookIV_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">If</span> my wife will but venture +him—brother <i>Toby</i>, <i>Trismegistus</i> shall be dress’d and +brought down to us, whilst you and I are getting our breakfasts <span +class = "locked">together.———</span></p> + +<p>——Go, tell <i>Susannah</i>, <i>Obadiah</i>, to step +here.</p> + +<p>She is run upstairs, answered <i>Obadiah</i>, this very instant, +sobbing and crying, and wringing her hands as if her heart would +break.</p> + +<p>We shall have a rare month of it, said my father, turning his head +from <i>Obadiah</i>, and looking wistfully in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +face for some time—we shall have a devilish month of it, brother +<i>Toby</i>, said my father, setting his arms a-kimbo, and shaking his +head; fire, water, women, wind—brother <i>Toby!</i>—’Tis +some misfortune, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——That it is, +cried my father—to have so many jarring elements breaking loose, +and riding triumph in every corner of a gentleman’s house—Little +boots it to the peace of a family, brother <i>Toby</i>, that you and I +possess ourselves, and sit here silent and unmoved——whilst +such a storm is whistling over our <span class = +"locked">heads.———</span></p> + +<p>And what’s the matter, <i>Susannah?</i> They have called the child +<i>Tristram</i>——and my mistress is just got out of an +hysterick fit about it——No——’tis not my fault, +said <i>Susannah</i>—I told him it was +<i>Tristram-gistus</i>.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page212" id = "page212">212</a></span> +<p>——Make tea for yourself, brother <i>Toby</i>, said my +father, taking down his hat——but how different from the +sallies and agitations of voice and members which a common reader would +imagine!</p> + +<p>—For he spake in the sweetest modulation—and took down +his hat with the genteelest movement of limbs, that ever affliction +harmonized and attuned together.</p> + +<p>——Go to the bowling-green for corporal <i>Trim</i>, said +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, speaking to <i>Obadiah</i>, as soon as my father +left the room.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXVII" id = "bookIV_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> the misfortune of my <span +class = "smallcaps">Nose</span> fell so heavily upon my father’s +head;—the reader remembers that he walked instantly up stairs, and +cast himself down upon his bed; and from hence, unless he has a great +insight into human nature, he will be apt to expect a rotation of the +same ascending and descending movements from him, upon his misfortune of +my <span class = "smallcaps">Name</span>;——no.</p> + +<p>The different weight, dear Sir——nay even the different +package of two vexations of the same weight——makes a very +wide difference in our manner of bearing and getting through with +them.——It is not half an hour ago, when (in the great +hurry and precipitation of a poor devil’s writing for daily bread) +I threw a fair sheet, which I had just finished, and carefully +wrote out, slap into the fire, instead of the foul one.</p> + +<p>Instantly I snatch’d off my wig, and threw it perpendicularly, with +all imaginable violence, up to the top of the room—indeed I caught +it as it fell——but there was an end of the matter; nor do I +think anything else in <i>Nature</i> would have given such immediate +ease: She, dear Goddess, by an instantaneous impulse, in all +<i>provoking cases</i>, determines us to a sally of this or that +member—or else she thrusts us into this or that place or posture +of body, we know not why——But mark, madam, we live amongst +riddles and mysteries——the most obvious things, which come +in our way, have dark sides, which the quickest sight cannot penetrate +into; and even the clearest and most exalted understandings amongst us +find ourselves puzzled and at a loss in almost every cranny of nature’s +works: so that this, like a thousand other things, falls out for us in a +way, which tho’ we cannot reason upon it—yet we find the good of +it, may it please your reverences and your worships——and +that’s enough for us.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page213" id = "page213">213</a></span> +<p>Now, my father could not lie down with this affliction for his +life——nor could he carry it up stairs like the +other—he walked composedly out with it to the fish-pond.</p> + +<p>Had my father leaned his head upon his hand, and reasoned an hour +which way to have gone———reason, with all her force, +could not have directed him to anything like it: there is something, +Sir, in fish-ponds——but what it is, I leave to +system-builders and fish-pond-diggers betwixt ’em to find out—but +there is something, under the first disorderly transport of the humours, +so unaccountably becalming in an orderly and a sober walk towards one of +them, that I have often wondered that neither <i>Pythagoras</i>, nor +<i>Plato</i>, nor <i>Solon</i>, nor <i>Lycurgus</i>, nor <i>Mahomet</i>, +nor any one of your noted lawgivers, ever gave order about them.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXVIII" id = "bookIV_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Your</span> honour, said <i>Trim</i>, +shutting the parlour-door before he began to speak, has heard, +I imagine, of this unlucky accident——O yes, +<i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and it gives me great +concern.—I am heartily concerned too, but I hope your honour, +replied <i>Trim</i>, will do me the justice to believe, that it was not +in the least owing to me.——To +thee—<i>Trim?</i>—cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking kindly +in his face———’twas <i>Susannah’s</i> and the curate’s +folly betwixt them.———What business could they have +together, an’ please your honour, in the garden?——In the +gallery thou meanest, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Trim</i> found he was upon a wrong scent, and stopped short with a +low bow——Two misfortunes, quoth the corporal to himself, are +twice as many at least as are needful to be talked over at one +time;——the mischief the cow has done in breaking into the +fortifications, may be told his honour +hereafter.——<i>Trim’s</i> casuistry and address, under the +cover of his low bow, prevented all suspicion in my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +so he went on with what he had to say to <i>Trim</i> as follows:</p> + +<p>———For my own part, <i>Trim</i>, though I can see +little or no difference betwixt my nephew’s being called <i>Tristram</i> +or <i>Trismegistus</i>—yet as the thing sits so near my brother’s +heart, <i>Trim</i>———I would freely have given a +hundred pounds rather than it should have +happened.——A hundred pounds, an’ please your honour! +replied <i>Trim</i>,——I would not give a cherry-stone +to boot.——Nor would I, <i>Trim</i>, upon my own +account, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>,————but my +brother, whom there is no arguing +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page214" id = "page214">214</a></span> +with in this case—maintains that a great deal more depends, +<i>Trim</i>, upon christian-names, than what ignorant people +imagine——for he says there never was a great or heroic +action performed since the world began by one called +<i>Tristram</i>—nay, he will have it, <i>Trim</i>, that a man can +neither be learned, or wise, or brave.——’Tis all fancy, an’ +please your honour—I fought just as well, replied the +corporal, when the regiment called me <i>Trim</i>, as when they called +me <i>James Butler</i>.——And for my own part, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, though I should blush to boast of myself, +<i>Trim</i>——yet had my name been <i>Alexander</i>, +I could have done no more at <i>Namur</i> than my duty.—Bless +your honour! cried <i>Trim</i>, advancing three steps as he spoke, does +a man think of his christian-name when he goes upon the +attack?———Or when he stands in the trench, +<i>Trim?</i> cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking firm.——Or +when he enters a breach? said <i>Trim</i>, pushing in between two +chairs.——Or forces the lines? cried my uncle, rising up, and +pushing his crutch like a pike.——Or facing a platoon? cried +<i>Trim</i>, presenting his stick like a fire-lock.——Or when +he marches up the glacis? cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking warm and +setting his foot upon his <span class = +"locked">stool.———</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXIX" id = "bookIV_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father was returned from his walk +to the fish-pond——and opened the parlour-door in the very +height of the attack, just as my uncle <i>Toby</i> was marching up the +glacis——<i>Trim</i> recovered his arms——never +was my uncle <i>Toby</i> caught in riding at such a desperate rate in +his life! Alas! my uncle <i>Toby!</i> had not a weightier matter called +forth all the ready eloquence of my father—how hadst thou then and +thy poor <span class = "smallcaps">Hobby-Horse</span> too been +insulted!</p> + +<p>My father hung up his hat with the same air he took it down; and +after giving a slight look at the disorder of the room, he took hold of +one of the chairs which had formed the corporal’s breach, and placing it +over-against my uncle <i>Toby</i>, he sat down in it, and as soon as the +tea-things were taken away, and the door shut, he broke out in a +lamentation as follows.</p> + + +<h5 class = "smallcaps"><a name = "bookIV_lament" id = "bookIV_lament"> +My Father’s Lamentation</a></h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is in vain longer, said my +father, addressing himself as much to <i>Ernulphus’s</i> curse, which +was laid upon the corner of the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page215" id = "page215">215</a></span> +chimney-piece——as to my uncle <i>Toby</i> who sat under +it——it is in vain longer, said my father, in the most +querulous monotony imaginable, to struggle as I have done against this +most uncomfortable of human persuasions——I see it +plainly, that either for my own sins, brother <i>Toby</i>, or the sins +and follies of the <i>Shandy</i> family, Heaven has thought fit to draw +forth the heaviest of its artillery against me; and that the prosperity +of my child is the point upon which the whole force of it is directed to +play.———Such a thing would batter the whole universe +about our ears, brother <i>Shandy</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—if it was so—Unhappy <i>Tristram</i>: child of +wrath! child of decrepitude! interruption! mistake! and discontent! What +one misfortune or disaster in the book of embryotic evils, that could +unmechanize thy frame, or entangle thy filaments! which has not fallen +upon thy head, or ever thou camest into the world——what +evils in thy passage into it!———what evils +since!——produced into being, in the decline of thy father’s +days——when the powers of his imagination and of his body +were waxing feeble——when radical heat and radical moisture, +the elements which should have temper’d thine, were drying up; and +nothing left to found thy stamina in, but negations—’tis +pitiful———brother <i>Toby</i>, at the best, and called +out for all the little helps that care and attention on both sides could +give it. But how were we defeated! You know the event, brother +<i>Toby</i>——’tis too melancholy a one to be repeated +now——when the few animal spirits I was worth in the world, +and with which memory, fancy, and quick parts should have been +convey’d———were all dispersed, confused, confounded, +scattered, and sent to the <span class = +"locked">devil.———</span></p> + +<p>Here then was the time to have put a stop to this persecution against +him;———and tried an experiment at +least———whether calmness and serenity of mind in your +sister, with a due attention, brother <i>Toby</i>, to her evacuations +and repletions———and the rest of her non-naturals, +might not, in a course of nine months gestation, have set all things to +rights.———My child was bereft of +these!———What a teazing life did she lead herself, and +consequently her fœtus too, with that nonsensical anxiety of hers about +lying-in in town? I thought my sister submitted with the greatest +patience, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>————I never heard her utter one +fretful word about it.———She fumed inwardly, cried my +father; and that, let me tell you, brother, was ten times worse for the +child—and then! what battles did she fight with me, and what +perpetual storms +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page216" id = "page216">216</a></span> +about the midwife.———There she gave vent, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.———Vent! cried my father, +looking up.</p> + +<p>But what was all this, my dear <i>Toby</i>, to the injuries done us +by my child’s coming head foremost into the world, when all I wished, in +this general wreck of his frame, was to have saved this little casket +unbroke, <span class = +"locked">unrifled.———</span></p> + +<p>With all my precautions, how was my system turned topside-turvy in +the womb with my child! his head exposed to the hand of violence, and a +pressure of 470 pounds avoirdupois weight acting so perpendicularly upon +its apex—that at this hour ’tis ninety <i>per Cent.</i> insurance, +that the fine net-work of the intellectual web be not rent and torn to a +thousand tatters.</p> + +<p>——Still we could have done.——Fool, coxcomb, +puppy——give him but a <span class = +"smallcaps">Nose</span>——Cripple, Dwarf, Driveller, +Goosecap———(shape him as you will) the door of fortune +stands open—<i>O Licetus! Licetus!</i> had I been blest with a +fœtus five inches long and a half, like thee—Fate might have done +her worst.</p> + +<p>Still, brother <i>Toby</i>, there was one cast of the dye left for +our child after all—<i>O Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!</i></p> + +<p>We will send for Mr. <i>Yorick</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>——You may send for whom you will, replied my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXX" id = "bookIV_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">What</span> a rate have I gone on at, +curvetting and frisking it away, two up and two down for four volumes<a +class = "tag" name = "tag_4_8" id = "tag_4_8" href = "#note_4_8">8</a> +together, without looking once behind, or even on one side of me, to see +whom I trod upon!—I’ll tread upon no one——quoth I to +myself when I mounted———I’ll take a good rattling +gallop; but I’ll not hurt the poorest jackass upon the +road.——So off I set——up one +lane———down another, through this +turnpike——over that, as if the arch-jockey of jockeys had +got behind me.</p> + +<p>Now ride at this rate with what good intention and resolution you +<ins class = "correction" +title = "text reads ‘way’">may</ins>——’tis a million to one you’ll do some one a +mischief, if not yourself———He’s flung—he’s +off—he’s lost his hat—he’s down———he’ll +break his neck——see!——if he has not galloped +full among the scaffolding of the undertaking +criticks!——he’ll knock his brains out against some of their +posts—he’s bounced out!—look—he’s now riding like a +mad-cap full tilt through a whole crowd of painters, fiddlers, poets, +biographers, physicians, lawyers, logicians, players, schoolmen, +churchmen, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page217" id = "page217">217</a></span> +statesmen, soldiers, casuists, connoisseurs, prelates, popes, and +engineers.—Don’t fear, said I—I’ll not hurt the poorest +jack-ass upon the king’s highway.—But your horse throws dirt; see +you’ve splash’d a bishop.——I hope in God, ’twas only +<i>Ernulphus</i>, said I.———But you have squirted full +in the faces of Mess. <i>Le Moyne</i>, <i>De Romigny</i>, and <i>De +Marcilly</i>, doctors of the <i>Sorbonne</i>.———That +was last year, replied I.—But you have trod this moment upon a +king.——Kings have bad times on’t, said I, to be trod upon by +such people as me.</p> + +<p>You have done it, replied my accuser.</p> + +<p>I deny it, quoth I, and so have got off, and here am I standing with +my bridle in one hand, and with my cap in the other, to tell my +story.———And what is it? You shall hear in the next +chapter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXI" id = "bookIV_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> <i>Francis</i> the first of +<i>France</i> was one winterly night warming himself over the embers of +a wood fire, and talking with his first minister of sundry things for +the good of the state<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_9" id = "tag_4_9" +href = "#note_4_9">9</a>—It would not be amiss, said the king, +stirring up the embers with his cane, if this good understanding betwixt +ourselves and <i>Switzerland</i> was a little strengthened.—There +is no end, Sire, replied the minister, in giving money to these +people—they would swallow up the treasury of +<i>France</i>.—Poo! poo! answered the king—there are more +ways, Mons. <i>le Premier</i>, of bribing states, besides that of giving +money—I’ll pay <i>Switzerland</i> the honour of standing godfather +for my next child.——Your majesty, said the minister, in so +doing, would have all the grammarians in <i>Europe</i> upon your +back;——<i>Switzerland</i>, as a republick, being a female, +can in no construction be godfather.—She may be godmother, replied +<i>Francis</i> hastily—so announce my intentions by a courier +to-morrow morning.</p> + +<p>I am astonished, said <i>Francis</i> the First, (that day fortnight) +speaking to his minister as he entered the closet, that we have had no +answer from <i>Switzerland</i>.——Sire, I wait upon you +this moment, said Mons. <i>le Premier</i>, to lay before you my +dispatches upon that business.—They take it kindly, said the +king.—They do, Sire, replied the minister, and have the highest +sense of the honour your majesty has done them——but the +republick, as godmother, claims her right, in this case, of naming the +child.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page218" id = "page218">218</a></span> +<p>In all reason, quoth the king——she will christen him +<i>Francis</i>, or <i>Henry</i>, or <i>Lewis</i>, or some name that she +knows will be agreeable to us. Your majesty is deceived, replied the +minister——I have this hour received a dispatch from our +resident, with the determination of the republick on that point +also.——And what name has the republick fixed upon for the +Dauphin?——<i>Shadrach</i>, <i>Meshech</i>, <i>Abed-nego</i>, +replied the minister.—By Saint <i>Peter’s</i> girdle, I will +have nothing to do with the <i>Swiss</i>, cried <i>Francis</i> the +First, pulling up his breeches and walking hastily across the floor.</p> + +<p>Your majesty, replied the minister calmly, cannot bring yourself +off.</p> + +<p>We’ll pay them in money———said the king.</p> + +<p>Sire, there are not sixty thousand crowns in the treasury, answered +the minister.——I’ll pawn the best jewel in my crown, quoth +<i>Francis</i> the First.</p> + +<p>Your honour stands pawn’d already in this matter, answered Monsieur +<i>le Premier</i>.</p> + +<p>Then, Mons. <i>le Premier</i>, said the king, +by———we’ll go to war with ’em.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXII" id = "bookIV_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Albeit</span>, gentle reader, I have lusted +earnestly, and endeavoured carefully (according to the measure of such a +slender skill as God has vouchsafed me, and as convenient leisure from +other occasions of needful profit and healthful pastime have permitted) +that these little books which I here put into thy hands, might stand +instead of many bigger books—yet have I carried myself towards +thee in such fanciful guise of careless disport, that right sore am I +ashamed now to intreat thy lenity seriously———in +beseeching thee to believe it of me, that in the story of my father and +his christian-names—I have no thoughts of treading upon +<i>Francis</i> the First——nor in the affair of the +nose—upon <i>Francis</i> the Ninth—nor in the character of +my uncle <i>Toby</i>——of characterizing the militiating +spirits of my country—the wound upon his groin, is a wound to +every comparison of that kind—nor by <i>Trim</i>—that I +meant the duke of <i>Ormond</i>——or that my book is wrote +against predestination, or free-will, or taxes—If ’tis wrote +against any thing,——’tis wrote, an’ please your worships, +against the spleen! in order, by a more frequent and a more convulsive +elevation and depression of the diaphragm, and the succussations of the +intercostal and abdominal muscles +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page219" id = "page219">219</a></span> +in laughter, to drive the <i>gall</i> and other <i>bitter juices</i> +from the gallbladder, liver, and sweet-bread of his majesty’s subjects, +with all the inimicitious passions which belong to them, down into their +duodenums.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXIII" id = "bookIV_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">But</span> can the thing be undone, +<i>Yorick?</i> said my father—for in my opinion, continued he, it +cannot. I am a vile canonist, replied <i>Yorick</i>—but of +all evils, holding suspense to be the most tormenting, we shall at least +know the worst of this matter. I hate these great +dinners——said my father—The size of the dinner is not +the point, answered <i>Yorick</i>——we want, Mr. +<i>Shandy</i>, to dive into the bottom of this doubt, whether the name +can be changed or not—and as the beards of so many commissaries, +officials, advocates, proctors, registers, and of the most eminent of +our school-divines, and others, are all to meet in the middle of one +table, and <i>Didius</i> has so pressingly invited you—who in your +distress would miss such an occasion? All that is requisite, continued +<i>Yorick</i>, is to apprize <i>Didius</i>, and let him manage a +conversation after dinner so as to introduce the subject.—Then my +brother <i>Toby</i>, cried my father, clapping his two hands together, +shall go with us.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +——Let my old tye-wig, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and my +laced regimentals, be hung to the fire all night, <i>Trim</i>.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page230" id = "page230">230</a></span> + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXV" id = "bookIV_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">No</span> doubt, Sir,—there is +a whole chapter wanting here—and a chasm of ten pages made in the +book by it—but the bookbinder is neither a fool, or a knave, or a +puppy—nor is the book a jot more imperfect (at least upon +that score)——but, on the contrary, the book is more perfect +and complete by wanting the chapter, than having it, as I shall +demonstrate to your reverences in this manner.—I question +first, by the bye, whether the same experiment might not be made as +successfully upon sundry other chapters———but there is +no end, an’ please your reverences, in trying experiments upon +chapters———we have had enough of it——So +there’s an end of that matter.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +But before I begin my demonstration, let me only tell you, that the +chapter which I have torn out, and which otherwise you would all have +been reading just now, instead of this——was the description +of my father’s, my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>, <i>Trim’s</i>, and +<i>Obadiah’s</i> setting out and journeying to the visitation at +****.</p> + +<p>We’ll go in the coach, said my father—Prithee, have the arms +been altered, <i>Obadiah?</i>—It would have made my story much +better to have begun with telling you, that at the time my mother’s arms +were added to the <i>Shandy’s</i>, when the coach was re-painted upon my +father’s marriage, it had so fallen out, that the coach-painter, whether +by performing all his works with the left-hand, like <i>Turpilius</i> +the <i>Roman</i>, or <i>Hans Holbein</i> of <i>Basil</i>——or +whether ’twas more from the blunder of his head than +hand——or whether, lastly, it was from the sinister turn +which every thing relating to our family was apt to take——it +so fell out, however, to our reproach, that instead of the +<i>bend-dexter</i>, which since <i>Harry</i> the Eighth’s reign was +honestly our due———a <i>bend-sinister</i>, by +some of these fatalities, had been drawn quite across the field of the +<i>Shandy</i> arms. ’Tis scarce credible that the mind of so wise a man +as my father was, could be so much incommoded with so small a matter. +The word coach—let it be whose it would—or coach-man, or +coach-horse, or coach-hire, could never be named in the family, but he +constantly complained of carrying this vile mark of illegitimacy upon +the door of his own; he never once was able to step into the coach, or +out of it, without turning round to take a view of the arms, and making +a vow at the same time, that it was the last time he would ever set his +foot in it again, till the <i>bend-sinister</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page231" id = "page231">231</a></span> +was taken out—but like the affair of the hinge, it was one of the +many things which the <i>Destinies</i> had set down in their books ever +to be grumbled at (and in wiser families than ours)——but +never to be mended.</p> + +<p>—Has the <i>bend-sinister</i> been brush’d out, I say? said my +father.——There has been nothing brush’d out, Sir, answered +<i>Obadiah</i>, but the lining. We’ll go o’horseback, said my father, +turning to <i>Yorick</i>.——Of all things in the world, +except politicks, the clergy know the least of heraldry, said +<i>Yorick</i>.—No matter for that, cried my +father——I should be sorry to appear with a blot in my +escutcheon before them.—Never mind the <i>bend-sinister</i>, said +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, putting on his tye-wig.——No, indeed, +said my father—you may go with my aunt <i>Dinah</i> to a +visitation with a <i>bend-sinister</i>, if you think fit—My poor +uncle <i>Toby</i> blush’d. My father was vexed at +himself.———No——my dear brother +<i>Toby</i>, said my father, changing his tone——but the damp +of the coach-lining about my loins, may give me the sciatica again, as +it did <i>December</i>, <i>January</i>, and <i>February</i> last +<i>winter</i>—so if you please you shall ride my wife’s +pad——and as you are to preach, <i>Yorick</i>, you had better +make the best of your way before——and leave me to take care +of my brother <i>Toby</i>, and to follow at our own rates.</p> + +<p>Now the chapter I was obliged to tear out, was the description of +this cavalcade, in which Corporal <i>Trim</i> and <i>Obadiah</i>, upon +two coach-horses a-breast, led the way as slow as a +patrole——whilst my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in his laced +regimentals and tye-wig, kept his rank with my father, in deep roads and +dissertations alternately upon the advantage of learning and arms, as +each could get the start.</p> + +<p>—But the painting of this journey, upon reviewing it, appears +to be so much above the stile and manner of anything else I have been +able to paint in this book, that it could not have remained in it, +without depreciating every other scene; and destroying at the same time +that necessary equipoise and balance, (whether of good or bad) betwixt +chapter and chapter, from whence the just proportions and harmony of the +whole work results. For my own part, I am but just set up in the +business, so know little about it—but, in my opinion, to write a +book is for all the world like humming a song—but in tune with +yourself, madam, ’tis no matter how high or how low you +take it.</p> + +<p>—This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that some +of the lowest and flattest compositions pass off very +well——(as <i>Yorick</i> told my uncle <i>Toby</i> one +night) by siege.——My uncle +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page232" id = "page232">232</a></span> +<i>Toby</i> looked brisk at the sound of the word <i>siege</i>, but +could make neither head or tail of it.</p> + +<p>I’m to preach at court next Sunday, said +<i>Homenas</i>——run over my notes——so I humm’d +over doctor <i>Homenas’s</i> notes—the modulation’s very +well——’twill do, <i>Homenas</i>, if it holds on at this +rate——so on I humm’d——and a tolerable tune I +<ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘though’">thought</ins> it +was; and to this hour, may it please your reverences, had never found +out how low, how flat, how spiritless and jejune it was, but that all of +a sudden, up started an air in the middle of it, so fine, so rich, so +heavenly,—it carried my soul up with it into the other world; now +had I (as <i>Montaigne</i> complained in a parallel +accident)—had I found the declivity easy, or the ascent +accessible———certes I had been +outwitted.———Your notes, <i>Homenas</i>, I should +have said, are good notes;——but it was so perpendicular a +precipice———so wholly cut off from the rest of the +work, that by the first note I humm’d I found myself flying into the +other world, and from thence discovered the vale from whence I came, so +deep, so low, and dismal, that I shall never have the heart to descend +into it again.</p> + +<p><img src = "images/finger.gif" width = "30" height = "13" alt = +"-->" /> A dwarf who brings a standard along with him to measure his +own size—take my word, is a <ins class = "correction" title = +"text reads ‘drawf’">dwarf</ins> in more articles than one.—And so +much for tearing out of chapters.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXVI" id = "bookIV_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">See</span> if he is not +cutting it into slips, and giving them about him to light their +pipes!——’Tis abominable, answered <i>Didius</i>; it should +not go unnoticed, said doctor <i>Kysarcius</i>——— <img +src = "images/finger.gif" width = "30" height = "13" alt = "-->" +/> he was of the <i>Kysarcii</i> of the Low Countries.</p> + +<p>Methinks, said <i>Didius</i>, half rising from his chair, in order to +remove a bottle and a tall decanter, which stood in a direct line +betwixt him and <i>Yorick</i>——you might have spared this +sarcastic stroke, and have hit upon a more proper place, Mr. +<i>Yorick</i>—or at least upon a more proper occasion to have +shewn your contempt of what we have been about: If the sermon is of no +better worth than to light pipes with——’twas certainly, Sir, +not good enough to be preached before so learned a body; and if ’twas +good enough to be preached before so learned a body——’twas +certainly, Sir, too good to light their pipes with afterwards.</p> + +<p>——I have got him fast hung up, quoth <i>Didius</i> to +himself, upon one of the two horns of my dilemma——let him +get off as he can.</p> + +<p>I have undergone such unspeakable torments, in bringing forth this +sermon, quoth <i>Yorick</i>, upon this occasion———that +I +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page233" id = "page233">233</a></span> +declare, <i>Didius</i>, I would suffer martyrdom—and if it was +possible my horse with me, a thousand times over, before I would +sit down and make such another: I was delivered of it at the wrong +end of me——it came from my head instead of my +heart———and it is for the pain it gave me, both in the +writing and preaching of it, that I revenge myself of it, in this +manner—To preach, to shew the extent of our reading, or the +subtleties of our wit—to parade in the eyes of the vulgar with the +beggarly accounts of a little learning, tinsel’d over with a few words +which glitter, but convey little light and less warmth——is a +dishonest use of the poor single half hour in a week which is put into +our hands—’Tis not preaching the gospel—but +ourselves——For my own part, continued <i>Yorick</i>, +I had rather direct five words point-blank to the <span class = +"locked">heart.—</span></p> + +<p>As <i>Yorick</i> pronounced the word <i>point-blank</i>, my uncle +<i>Toby</i> rose up to say something upon projectiles——when +a single word and no more uttered from the opposite side of the table +drew every one’s ears towards it—a word of all others in the +dictionary the last in that place to be expected—a word I am +ashamed to write—yet must be written——must be +read—illegal—uncanonical—guess ten thousand guesses, +multiplied into themselves—rack—torture your invention for +ever, you’re where you was————In short, I’ll +tell it in the next chapter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXVII" id = "bookIV_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Zounds!</span> +<img src = "images/onedash.gif" width = "450" height = "12" +alt = "----" /> +<br /> +<img src = "images/onedash.gif" width = "500" height = "12" alt = "----" +/><br /> +——————Z———ds! +cried <i>Phutatorius</i>, partly to himself——and yet high +enough to be heard—and what seemed odd, ’twas uttered in a +construction of look, and in a tone of voice, somewhat between that of a +man in amazement and one in bodily pain.</p> + +<p>One or two who had very nice ears, and could distinguish the +expression and mixture of the two tones as plainly as a <i>third</i> or +a <i>fifth</i>, or any other chord in musick—were the most puzzled +and perplexed with it—the concord was good in itself—but +then ’twas quite out of the key, and no way applicable to the subject +started;——so that with all their knowledge, they could not +tell what in the world to make of it.</p> + +<p>Others who knew nothing of musical expression, and merely lent their +ears to the plain import of the <i>word</i>, imagined that +<i>Phutatorius</i>, who was somewhat of a cholerick spirit, was just +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page234" id = "page234">234</a></span> +going to snatch the cudgels out of <i>Didius’s</i> hands, in order to +bemaul <i>Yorick</i> to some purpose—and that the desperate +monosyllable Z———ds was the exordium to an oration, +which, as they judged from the sample, presaged but a rough kind of +handling of him; so that my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> good-nature felt a pang +for what <i>Yorick</i> was about to undergo. But seeing +<i>Phutatorius</i> stop short, without any attempt or desire to go +on—a third party began to suppose, that it was no more than +an involuntary respiration, casually forming itself into the shape of a +twelve-penny oath—without the sin or substance of one.</p> + +<p>Others, and especially one or two who sat next him, looked upon it on +the contrary as a real and substantial oath, propensly formed against +<i>Yorick</i>, to whom he was known to bear no good liking—which +said oath, as my father philosophized upon it, actually lay fretting and +fuming at that very time in the upper regions of <i>Phutatorius’s</i> +purtenance; and so was naturally, and according to the due course of +things, first squeezed out by the sudden influx of blood which was +driven into the right ventricle of <i>Phutatorius’s</i> heart, by the +stroke of surprize which so strange a theory of preaching had +excited.</p> + +<p>How finely we argue upon mistaken facts!</p> + +<p>There was not a soul busied in all these various reasonings upon the +monosyllable which <i>Phutatorius</i> uttered——who did not +take this for granted, proceeding upon it as from an axiom, namely, that +<i>Phutatorius’s</i> mind was intent upon the subject of debate which +was arising between <i>Didius</i> and <i>Yorick</i>; and indeed as he +looked first towards the one and then towards the other, with the air of +a man listening to what was going forwards—who would not have +thought the same? But the truth was, that <i>Phutatorius</i> knew not +one word or one syllable of what was passing—but his whole +thoughts and attention were taken up with a transaction which was going +forwards at that very instant within the precincts of his own +<i>Galligaskins</i>, and in a part of them, where of all others he stood +most interested to watch accidents: So that notwithstanding he looked +with all the attention in the world, and had gradually skrewed up every +nerve and muscle in his face, to the utmost pitch the instrument would +bear, in order, as it was thought, to give a sharp reply to +<i>Yorick</i>, who sat over-against him——yet, I say, +was <i>Yorick</i> never once in any one domicile of <i>Phutatorius’s</i> +brain——but the true cause of his exclamation lay at least a +yard below.</p> + +<p>This I will endeavour to explain to you with all imaginable +decency.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page235" id = "page235">235</a></span> +<p>You must be informed then, that <i>Gastripheres</i>, who had taken a +turn into the kitchen a little before dinner, to see how things went +on—observing a wicker-basket of fine chesnuts standing upon the +dresser, had ordered that a hundred or two of them might be roasted and +sent in, as soon as dinner was over——<i>Gastripheres</i> +inforcing his orders about them, that <i>Didius</i>, but +<i>Phutatorius</i> especially, were particularly fond of ’em.</p> + +<p>About two minutes before the time that my uncle <i>Toby</i> +interrupted <i>Yorick’s</i> harangue—<i>Gastripheres’s</i> +chesnuts were brought in—and as <i>Phutatorius’s</i> fondness for +’em was uppermost in the waiter’s head, he laid them directly before +<i>Phutatorius</i>, wrapt up hot in a clean damask napkin.</p> + +<p>Now whether it was physically impossible, with half a dozen hands all +thrust into the napkin at a time—but that some one chesnut, of +more life and rotundity than the rest, must be put in motion—it so +fell out, however, that one was actually sent rolling off the table; and +as <i>Phutatorius</i> sat straddling under——it fell +perpendicularly into that particular aperture of <i>Phutatorius’s</i> +breeches, for which, to the shame and indelicacy of our language be it +spoke, there is no chaste word throughout all <i>Johnson’s</i> +dictionary——let it suffice to say——it was that +particular aperture which, in all good societies, the laws of decorum do +strictly require, like the temple of <i>Janus</i> (in peace at +least) to be universally shut up.</p> + +<p>The neglect of this punctilio in <i>Phutatorius</i> (which by the bye +should be a warning to all mankind) had opened a door to this <span +class = "locked">accident.——</span></p> + +<p>Accident I call it, in compliance to a received mode of +speaking———but in no opposition to the opinion either +of <i>Acrites</i> or <i>Mythogeras</i> in this matter; I know they +were both prepossessed and fully persuaded of it—and are so to +this hour, That there was nothing of accident in the whole +event——but that the chesnut’s taking that particular course +and in a manner of its own accord—and then falling with all its +heat directly into that one particular place, and no +other——was a real judgment upon <i>Phutatorius</i>, for that +filthy and obscene treatise <i>de Concubinis retinendis</i>, which +<i>Phutatorius</i> had published about twenty years ago——and +was that identical week going to give the world a second +edition of.</p> + +<p>It is not my business to dip my pen in this +controversy——much undoubtedly may be wrote on both sides of +the question—all that concerns me as an historian, is to represent +the matter of fact, and render it credible to the reader, that the +hiatus in +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page236" id = "page236">236</a></span> +<i>Phutatorius’s</i> breeches was sufficiently wide to receive the +chesnut;——and that the chesnut, somehow or other, did fall +perpendicularly and piping hot into it, without <i>Phutatorius’s</i> +perceiving it, or any one else at that time.</p> + +<p>The genial warmth which the chesnut imparted, was not undelectable +for the first twenty or five-and-twenty seconds——and did no +more than gently solicit <i>Phutatorius’s</i> attention towards the +part:———But the heat gradually increasing, and in a +few seconds more getting beyond the point of all sober pleasure, and +then advancing with all speed into the regions of pain, the soul of +<i>Phutatorius</i>, together with all his ideas, his thoughts, his +attention, his imagination, judgment, resolution, deliberation, +ratiocination, memory, fancy, with ten battalions of animal spirits, all +tumultuously crowded down, through different defiles and circuits, to +the place of danger, leaving all his upper regions, as you may imagine, +as empty as my purse.</p> + +<p>With the best intelligence which all these messengers could bring him +back, <i>Phutatorius</i> was not able to dive into the secret of what +was going forwards below, nor could he make any kind of conjecture, what +the devil was the matter with it: However, as he knew not what the true +cause might turn out, he deemed it most prudent, in the situation he was +in at present, to bear it, if possible, like a Stoick; which, with the +help of some wry faces and compursions of the mouth, he had certainly +accomplished, had his imagination continued neuter;——but the +sallies of the imagination are ungovernable in things of this +kind—a thought instantly darted into his mind, that tho’ the +anguish had the sensation of glowing heat—it might, +notwithstanding that, be a bite as well as a burn; and if so, that +possibly a <i>Newt</i> or an <i>Asker</i>, or some such detested +reptile, had crept up, and was fastening his teeth——the +horrid idea of which, with a fresh glow of pain arising that instant +from the chesnut, seized <i>Phutatorius</i> with a sudden panick, and in +the first terrifying disorder of the passion, it threw him, as it has +done the best generals upon earth, quite off his guard:——the +effect of which was this, that he leapt incontinently up, uttering as he +rose that interjection of surprise so much descanted upon, with the +aposiopestic break after it, marked thus, +Z———ds—which, though not strictly canonical, was +still as little as any man could have said upon the +occasion;———and which, by the bye, whether canonical +or not, <i>Phutatorius</i> could no more help than he could the cause +of it.</p> + +<p>Though this has taken up some time in the narrative, it took +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page237" id = "page237">237</a></span> +up little more time in the transaction, than just to allow for +<i>Phutatorius</i> to draw forth the chesnut, and throw it down with +violence upon the floor—and for <i>Yorick</i> to rise from his +chair, and pick the chesnut up.</p> + +<p>It is curious to observe the triumph of slight incidents over the +mind:——What incredible weight they have in forming and +governing our opinions, both of men and things——that +trifles, light as air, shall waft a belief into the soul, and plant it +so immoveably within it——that <i>Euclid’s</i> +demonstrations, could they be brought to batter it in breach, should not +all have power to overthrow it.</p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i>, I said, picked up the chesnut which +<i>Phutatorius’s</i> wrath had flung down——the action was +trifling——I am ashamed to account for it—he did +it, for no reason, but that he thought the chesnut not a jot worse for +the adventure—and that he held a good chesnut worth stooping +for.———But this incident, trifling as it was, wrought +differently in <i>Phutatorius’s</i> head: He considered this act of +<i>Yorick’s</i> in getting off his chair and picking up the chesnut, as +a plain acknowledgment in him, that the chesnut was originally +his—and in course, that it must have been the owner of the +chesnut, and no one else, who could have played him such a prank with +it: What greatly confirmed him in this opinion, was this, that the table +being parallelogramical and very narrow, it afforded a fair opportunity +for <i>Yorick</i>, who sat directly over against <i>Phutatorius</i>, of +slipping the chesnut in——and consequently that he did it. +The look of something more than suspicion, which <i>Phutatorius</i> cast +full upon <i>Yorick</i> as these thoughts arose, too evidently spoke his +opinion——and as <i>Phutatorius</i> was naturally supposed to +know more of the matter than any person besides, his opinion at once +became the general one;——and for a reason very different +from any which have been yet given——in a little time it was +put out of all manner of dispute.</p> + +<p>When great or unexpected events fall out upon the stage of this +sublunary world——the mind of man, which is an inquisitive +kind of substance, naturally takes a flight behind the scenes to see +what is the cause and first spring of them.—The search was not +long in this instance.</p> + +<p>It was well known that <i>Yorick</i> had never a good opinion of the +treatise which <i>Phutatorius</i> had wrote <i>de Concubinis +retinendis</i>, as a thing which he feared had done hurt in the +world——and ’twas easily found out, that there was a mystical +meaning in <i>Yorick’s</i> prank—and that his chucking the chesnut +hot into +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page238" id = "page238">238</a></span> +<i>Phutatorius’s</i> ***——*****, was a sarcastical fling at +his book—the doctrines of which, they said, had enflamed many an +honest man in the same place.</p> + +<p>This conceit awaken’d <i>Somnolentus</i>——made +<i>Agelastes</i> smile——and if you can recollect the precise +look and air of a man’s face intent in finding out a +riddle———it threw <i>Gastripheres’s</i> into that +form—and in short was thought by many to be a master-stroke of +arch-wit.</p> + +<p>This, as the reader has seen from one end to the other, was as +groundless as the dreams of philosophy: <i>Yorick</i>, no doubt, as +<i>Shakespeare</i> said of his ancestor———“<i>was a +man of jest</i>,” but it was temper’d with something which withheld him +from that, and many other ungracious pranks, of which he as undeservedly +bore the blame;—but it was his misfortune all his life long to +bear the imputation of saying and doing a thousand things, of which +(unless my esteem blinds me) his nature was incapable. All I blame +him for——or rather, all I blame and alternately like him +for, was that singularity of his temper, which would never suffer him to +take pains to set a story right with the world, however in his power. In +every ill usage of that sort, he acted precisely as in the affair of his +lean horse——he could have explained it to his honour, but +his spirit was above it; and besides, he ever looked upon the inventor, +the propagator and believer of an illiberal report alike so injurious to +him—he could not stoop to tell his story to them—and so +trusted to time and truth to do it for him.</p> + +<p>This heroic cast produced him inconveniences in many +respects—in the present it was followed by the fixed resentment of +<i>Phutatorius</i>, who, as <i>Yorick</i> had just made an end of his +chesnut, rose up from his chair a second time, to let him know +it—which indeed he did with a smile; saying only—that he +would endeavour not to forget the obligation.</p> + +<p>But you must mark and carefully separate and distinguish these two +things in your mind.</p> + +<p>——The smile was for the company.</p> + +<p>——The threat was for <i>Yorick</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXVIII" id = "bookIV_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">Can</span> you tell me, quoth +<i>Phutatorius</i>, speaking to <i>Gastripheres</i> who sat next to +him——for one would not apply to a surgeon in so foolish an +affair——can you tell me, <i>Gastripheres</i>, what is +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page239" id = "page239">239</a></span> +best to take out the fire?——Ask <i>Eugenius</i>, said +<i>Gastripheres</i>.——That greatly depends, said +<i>Eugenius</i>, pretending ignorance of the adventure, upon the nature +of the part——If it is a tender part, and a part which can +conveniently be wrapt up———It is both the one and the +other, replied <i>Phutatorius</i>, laying his hand as he spoke, with an +emphatical nod of his head, upon the part in question, and lifting up +his right leg at the same time to ease and ventilate +it.———If that is the case, said <i>Eugenius</i>, +I would advise you, <i>Phutatorius</i>, not to tamper with it by +any means; but if you will send to the next printer, and trust your cure +to such a simple thing as a soft sheet of paper just come off the +press—you need do nothing more than twist it round.—The damp +paper, quoth <i>Yorick</i> (who sat next to his friend <i>Eugenius</i>) +though I know it has a refreshing coolness in it—yet I presume is +no more than the vehicle—and that the oil and lamp-black with +which the paper is so strongly impregnated, does the +business.—Right, said <i>Eugenius</i>, and is, of any outward +application I would venture to recommend, the most anodyne and safe.</p> + +<p>Was it my case, said <i>Gastripheres</i>, as the main thing is the +oil and lamp-black, I should spread them thick upon a rag, and clap +it on directly.———That would make a very devil of it, +replied <i>Yorick</i>.——And besides, added <i>Eugenius</i>, +it would not answer the intention, which is the extreme neatness and +elegance of the prescription, which the Faculty hold to be half in +half;——for consider, if the type is a very small one (which +it should be) the sanative particles, which come into contact in +this form, have the advantage of being spread so infinitely thin, and +with such a mathematical equality (fresh paragraphs and large capitals +excepted) as no art or management of the spatula can come up +to.———It falls out very luckily, replied +<i>Phutatorius</i>, that the second edition of my treatise <i>de +Concubinis retinendis</i> is at this instant in the +press.———You may take any leaf of it, said +<i>Eugenius</i>———no matter +which.——Provided, quoth <i>Yorick</i>, there is no bawdry in +<span class = "locked">it.———</span></p> + +<p>They are just now, replied <i>Phutatorius</i>, printing off the ninth +chapter——which is the last chapter but one in the +book.——Pray what is the title of that chapter? said +<i>Yorick</i>; making a respectful bow to <i>Phutatorius</i> as he +spoke.———I think, answered <i>Phutatorius</i>, +’tis that <i>de re concubinariâ</i>.</p> + +<p>For Heaven’s sake keep out of that chapter, quoth <i>Yorick</i>.</p> + +<p>——By all means—added <i>Eugenius</i>.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page240" id = "page240">240</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXIX" id = "bookIV_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">Now</span>, quoth <i>Didius</i>, +rising up, and laying his right hand with his fingers spread upon his +breast——had such a blunder about a christian-name happened +before the Reformation———[It happened the day before +yesterday, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i> to himself] and when baptism was +administer’d in <i>Latin</i>—[’Twas all in <i>English</i>, said my +uncle]———many things might have coincided with it, and +upon the authority of sundry decreed cases, to have pronounced the +baptism null, with a power of giving the child a new name—Had a +priest, for instance, which was no uncommon thing, through ignorance of +the <i>Latin</i> tongue, baptized a child of Tom-o’Stiles, <i>in nomine +patriæ & filia & spiritum sanctos</i>—the baptism was held +null.——I beg your pardon, replied +<i>Kysarcius</i>——in that case, as the mistake was only the +<i>terminations</i>, the baptism was valid——and to have +rendered it null, the blunder of the priest should have fallen upon the +first syllable of each noun———and not, as in your +case, upon the last.</p> + +<p>My father delighted in subtleties of this kind, and listen’d with +infinite attention.</p> + +<p><i>Gastripheres</i>, for example, continued <i>Kysarcius</i>, +baptizes a child of <i>John Stradling’s</i> in <i>Gomine</i> gatris, +&c., &c., instead of <i>in Nomine</i> patris, +&c.——Is this a baptism? No—say the ablest +canonists; in as much as the radix of each word is hereby torn up, and +the sense and meaning of them removed and changed quite to another +object; for <i>Gomine</i> does not signify a name, nor <i>gatris</i> a +father.—What do they signify? said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.—Nothing at all———quoth +<i>Yorick</i>.——Ergo, such a baptism is null, said <span +class = "locked"><i>Kysarcius</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>In course, answered <i>Yorick</i>, in a tone two parts jest and one +part <span class = "locked">earnest.——</span></p> + +<p>But in the case cited, continued <i>Kysarcius</i>, where +<i>patriæ</i> is put for <i>patris</i>, <i>filia</i> for <i>filii</i>, +and so on——as it is a fault only in the declension, and the +roots of the words continue untouch’d, the inflections of their branches +either this way or that, does not in any sort hinder the baptism, +inasmuch as the same sense continues in the words as +before.——But then, said <i>Didius</i>, the intention of the +priest’s pronouncing them grammatically must have been proved to have +gone along with it.——————Right, +answered <i>Kysarcius</i>; and of this, brother <i>Didius</i>, we have +an instance in a decree of the decretals of Pope <i>Leo</i> the +IIId.——But my brother’s child, cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +has nothing to do +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page241" id = "page241">241</a></span> +with the Pope———’tis the plain child of a Protestant +gentleman, christen’d <i>Tristram</i> against the wills and wishes both +of his father and mother, and all who are a-kin to <span class = +"locked">it.——</span></p> + +<p>If the wills and wishes, said <i>Kysarcius</i>, interrupting my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, of those only who stand related to Mr. <i>Shandy’s</i> +child, were to have weight in this matter, Mrs. <i>Shandy</i>, of all +people, has the least to do in it.——My uncle <i>Toby</i> +lay’d down his pipe, and my father drew his chair still closer to the +table, to hear the conclusion of so strange an introduction.</p> + +<p>——It has not only been a question, Captain <i>Shandy</i>, +amongst the<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_10" id = "tag_4_10" href = +"#note_4_10">10</a> best lawyers and civilians in this land, continued +<i>Kysarcius</i>, “<i>Whether the mother be of kin to her +child</i>,”—but, after much dispassionate enquiry and jactitation +of the arguments on all sides—it has been abjudged for the +negative—namely, “<i>That the mother is not of kin to her +child</i>.”<a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_11" id = "tag_4_11" href = +"#note_4_11">11</a> My father instantly clapp’d his hand upon my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> mouth, under colour of whispering in his ear;—the +truth was, he was alarmed for <i>Lillabullero</i>—and having a +great desire to hear more of so curious an argument—he begg’d my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, for Heaven’s sake, not to disappoint him in +it.—My uncle <i>Toby</i> gave a nod—resumed his pipe, and +contenting himself with whistling <i>Lillabullero</i> +inwardly——<i>Kysarcius</i>, <i>Didius</i>, and +<i>Triptolemus</i> went on with the discourse as follows.</p> + +<p>This determination, continued <i>Kysarcius</i>, how contrary soever +it may seem to run to the stream of vulgar ideas, yet had reason +strongly on its side; and has been put out of all manner of dispute from +the famous case, known commonly by the name of the Duke of +<i>Suffolk’s</i> case.———It is cited in <i>Brook</i>, +said <i>Triptolemus</i>———And taken notice of by Lord +<i>Coke</i>, added <i>Didius</i>.—And you may find it in +<i>Swinburn</i> on Testaments, said <i>Kysarcius</i>.</p> + +<p>The case, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, was this.</p> + +<p>In the reign of <i>Edward</i> the Sixth, <i>Charles</i> duke of +<i>Suffolk</i> having issue a son by one venter, and a daughter by +another venter, made his last will, wherein he devised goods to his son, +and died; after whose death the son died also——but without +will, without wife, and without child—his mother and his sister by +the father’s side (for she was born of the former venter) then living. +The mother took the administration of her son’s goods, according to the +statute of the 21st of <i>Harry</i> the Eighth, whereby it is enacted, +That in case any person die intestate the administration of his goods +shall be committed to the next of kin.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page242" id = "page242">242</a></span> +<p>The administration being thus (surreptitiously) granted to the +mother, the sister by the father’s side commenced a suit before the +Ecclesiastical Judge, alledging, 1st, That she herself was next of kin; +and 2dly, That the mother was not of kin at all to the party deceased; +and therefore prayed the court, that the administration granted to the +mother might be revoked, and be committed unto her, as next of kin to +the deceased, by force of the said statute.</p> + +<p>Hereupon, as it was a great cause, and much depending upon its +issue—and many causes of great property likely to be decided in +times to come, by the precedent to be then made——the most +learned, as well in the laws of this realm, as in the civil law, were +consulted together, whether the mother was of kin to her son, or +no.—Whereunto not only the temporal lawyers——but the +church lawyers—the juris-consulti—the +juris-prudentes—the civilians—the advocates—the +commissaries—the judges of the consistory and prerogative courts +of <i>Canterbury</i> and <i>York</i>, with the master of the faculties, +were all unanimously of opinion, That the mother was not of<a class = +"tag" name = "tag_4_12" id = "tag_4_12" href = "#note_4_12">12</a> kin +to her <span class = "locked">child.——</span></p> + +<p>And what said the duchess of <i>Suffolk</i> to it? said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>The unexpectedness of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> question, confounded +<i>Kysarcius</i> more than the ablest advocate——He stopp’d a +full minute, looking in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> face without +replying——and in that single minute <i>Triptolemus</i> put +by him, and took the lead as follows.</p> + +<p>’Tis a ground and principle in the law, said <i>Triptolemus</i>, that +things do not ascend, but descend in it; and I make no doubt ’tis for +this cause, that however true it is, that the child may be of the blood +and seed of its parents——that the parents, nevertheless, are +not of the blood and seed of it; inasmuch as the parents are not begot +by the child, but the child by the parents—For so they write, +<i>Liberi sunt de sanguine patris & matris, sed pater & mater +non sunt de sanguine liberorum</i>.</p> + +<p>——But this, <i>Triptolemus</i>, cried <i>Didius</i>, +proves too much—for from this authority cited it would follow, not +only what indeed is granted on all sides, that the mother is not of kin +to her child—but the father likewise.——It is held, +said <i>Triptolemus</i>, the better opinion; because the father, the +mother, and the child, though they be three persons, yet are they but +(<i>una caro</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_4_13" id = "tag_4_13" href += "#note_4_13">13</a>) one flesh; and consequently no degree of +kindred——or any +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page243" id = "page243">243</a></span> +method of acquiring one <i>in nature</i>.——There you push +the argument again too far, cried <i>Didius</i>——for there +is no prohibition <i>in nature</i>, though there is in the Levitical +law——but that a man may beget a child upon his +grandmother——in which case, supposing the issue a daughter, +she would stand in relation both of——But who ever thought, +cried <i>Kysarcius</i>, of lying with his +grandmother?———The young gentleman, replied +<i>Yorick</i>, whom <i>Selden</i> speaks of——who not only +thought of it, but justified his intention to his father by the argument +drawn from the law of retaliation.—“You lay, Sir, with my mother,” +said the lad—“why may not I lie with yours?”——’Tis the +<i>Argumentum commune</i>, added <i>Yorick</i>.——’Tis as +good, replied <i>Eugenius</i>, taking down his hat, as they deserve.</p> + +<p>The company broke up.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXX" id = "bookIV_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p>—<span class = "firstword">And</span> pray, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, leaning upon <i>Yorick</i>, as he and my father were +helping him leisurely down the stairs——don’t be terrified, +madam, this stair-case conversation is not so long as the +last——And pray, <i>Yorick</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +which way is this said affair of <i>Tristram</i> at length settled by +these learned men? Very satisfactorily, replied <i>Yorick</i>; no +mortal, Sir, has any concern with it——for Mrs. <ins class = +"correction" +title = "printed in Roman (non-italic) type"><i>Shandy</i></ins> the mother is nothing at all a-kin to +him——and as the mother’s is the surest side——Mr. +<i>Shandy</i>, in course, is still less than +nothing———In short, he is not as much a-kin to him, +Sir, as I <span class = "locked">am.——</span></p> + +<p>——That may well be, said my father, shaking his head.</p> + +<p>——Let the learned say what they will, there must +certainly, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, have been some sort of +consanguinity betwixt the duchess of <i>Suffolk</i> and her son.</p> + +<p>The vulgar are of the same opinion, quoth <i>Yorick</i>, to this +hour.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXXI" id = "bookIV_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Though</span> my father was hugely tickled +with the subtleties of these learned +discourses———’twas still but like the anointing of a +broken bone———The moment he got home, the weight of +his afflictions returned upon him but so much the heavier, as is ever +the case when the staff we lean on slips from under us.—He became +pensive—walked frequently forth to the fish-pond—let down +one loop of his hat——sigh’d often——forbore to +snap—and, as the hasty sparks of temper, which occasion snapping, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page244" id = "page244">244</a></span> +so much assist perspiration and digestion, as <i>Hippocrates</i> tells +us—he had certainly fallen ill with the extinction of them, had +not his thoughts been critically drawn off, and his health rescued by a +fresh train of disquietudes left him, with a legacy of a thousand +pounds, by my aunt <i>Dinah</i>.</p> + +<p>My father had scarce read the letter, when taking the thing by the +right end, he instantly began to plague and puzzle his head how to lay +it out mostly to the honour of his +family.—A hundred-and-fifty odd projects took possession of +his brains by turns—he would do this, and that, and +t’other—He would go to <i>Rome</i>——he would go to +law——he would buy stock——he would buy <i>John +Hobson’s</i> farm—he would new fore-front his house, and add a new +wing to make it even——There was a fine water-mill on this +side, and he would build a wind-mill on the other side of the river in +full view to answer it—But above all things in the world, he would +inclose the great <i>Ox-moor</i>, and send out my brother <i>Bobby</i> +immediately upon his travels.</p> + +<p>But as the sum was <i>finite</i>, and consequently could not do +everything——and in truth very few of these to any +purpose—of all the projects which offered themselves upon this +occasion, the two last seemed to make the deepest impression; and he +would infallibly have determined upon both at once, but for the small +inconvenience hinted at above, which absolutely put him under a +necessity of deciding in favour either of the one or the other.</p> + +<p>This was not altogether so easy to be done; for though ’tis certain +my father had long before set his heart upon this necessary part of my +brother’s education, and like a prudent man had actually determined to +carry it into execution, with the first money that returned from the +second creation of actions in the <i>Missisippi</i>-scheme, in which he +was an adventurer——yet the <i>Ox-moor</i>, which was a fine, +large, whinny, undrained, unimproved common, belonging to the +<i>Shandy</i>-estate, had almost as old a claim upon him: he had long +and affectionately set his heart upon turning it likewise to some +account.</p> + +<p>But having never hitherto been pressed with such a conjuncture of +things, as made it necessary to settle either the priority or justice of +their claims——like a wise man he had refrained entering into +any nice or critical examination about them: so that upon the dismission +of every other project at this crisis———the two old +projects, the <span class = "smallcaps">Ox-moor</span> and my <span +class = "smallcaps">Brother</span>, divided him again; and so equal a +match were they for each other, as to become the occasion of no small +contest in the old gentleman’s mind—which of the two should be set +o’going first.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page245" id = "page245">245</a></span> +<p>——People may laugh as they will—but the case was +this.</p> + +<p>It had ever been the custom of the family, and by length of time was +almost become a matter of common right, that the eldest son of it should +have free ingress, egress, and regress into foreign parts before +marriage—not only for the sake of bettering his own private parts, +by the benefit of exercise and change of so much air—but simply +for the mere delectation of his fancy, by the feather put into his cap, +of having been abroad—<i>tantum valet</i>, my father would say, +<i>quantum sonat</i>.</p> + +<p>Now as this was a reasonable, and in course a most christian +indulgence——to deprive him of it, without why or +wherefore——and thereby make an example of him, as the first +<i>Shandy</i> unwhirl’d about <i>Europe</i> in a post-chaise, and only +because he was a heavy lad——would be using him ten times +worse than a Turk.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, the case of the <i>Ox-moor</i> was full as +hard.</p> + +<p>Exclusive of the original purchase-money, which was eight hundred +pounds——it had cost the family eight hundred pounds more in +a law-suit about fifteen years before—besides the Lord knows what +trouble and vexation.</p> + +<p>It had been moreover in possession of the <i>Shandy</i>-family ever +since the middle of the last century; and though it lay full in view +before the house, bounded on one extremity by the water-mill, and on the +other by the projected wind-mill, spoken of above—and for all +these reasons seemed to have the fairest title of any part of the estate +to the care and protection of the family—yet by an unaccountable +fatality, common to men, as well as the ground they tread +on——it had all along most shamefully been overlook’d; and to +speak the truth of it, had suffered so much by it, that it would have +made any man’s heart have bled (<i>Obadiah</i> said) who understood the +value of the land, to have rode over it, and only seen the condition it +was in.</p> + +<p>However, as neither the purchasing this tract of +ground——nor indeed the placing of it where it lay, were +either of them, properly speaking, of my father’s doing——he +had never thought himself any way concerned in the +affair———till the fifteen years before, when the +breaking out of that cursed law-suit mentioned above (and which had +arose about its boundaries)———which being altogether +my father’s own act and deed, it naturally awakened every other argument +in its favour, and upon summing them all up together, he saw, not merely +in interest, but in honour, he was bound to do something for +it——and that now or never was the time.</p> + +<p>I think there must certainly have been a mixture of ill-luck +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page246" id = "page246">246</a></span> +in it, that the reasons on both sides should happen to be so equally +balanced by each other; for though my father weigh’d them in all humours +and conditions———spent many an anxious hour in the +most profound and abstracted meditation upon what was best to be +done—reading books of farming one day———books of +travels another——laying aside all passion +whatever—viewing the arguments on both sides in all their lights +and circumstances—communing every day with my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—arguing with <i>Yorick</i>, and talking over the whole +affair of the <i>Ox-moor</i> with <i>Obadiah</i>———yet +nothing in all that time appeared so strongly in behalf of the one, +which was not either strictly applicable to the other, or at least so +far counterbalanced by some consideration of equal weight, as to keep +the scales even.</p> + +<p>For to be sure, with proper helps, and in the hands of some people, +tho’ the <i>Ox-moor</i> would undoubtedly have made a different +appearance in the world from what it did, or ever could do in the +condition it lay——yet every tittle of this was true, with +regard to my brother <i>Bobby</i>——let <i>Obadiah</i> say +what he <span class = "locked">would.———</span></p> + +<p>In point of interest——the contest, I own, at first sight, +did not appear so undecisive betwixt them; for whenever my father took +pen and ink in hand, and set about calculating the simple expence of +paring and burning, and fencing in the <i>Ox-moor</i> &c. +&c.—with the certain profit it would bring him in +return——the latter turned out so prodigiously in his way of +working the account, that you would have sworn the <i>Ox-moor</i> would +have carried all before it. For it was plain he should reap a hundred +lasts of rape, at twenty pounds a last, the very first +year——besides an excellent crop of wheat the year +following——and the year after that, to speak within bounds, +a hundred——but in all likelihood, a hundred and +fifty———if not two hundred quarters of pease and +beans——besides potatoes without end.——But then, +to think he was all this while breeding up my brother, like a hog to eat +them——knocked all on the head again, and generally left the +old gentleman in such a state of suspence——that, as he often +declared to my uncle <i>Toby</i>——he knew no more than his +heels what to do.</p> + +<p>No body, but he who has felt it, can conceive what a plaguing thing +it is to have a man’s mind torn asunder by two projects of equal +strength, both obstinately pulling in a contrary direction at the same +time: for to say nothing of the havock, which by a certain consequence +is unavoidably made by it all over the finer system of the nerves, which +you know convey the animal +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page247" id = "page247">247</a></span> +spirits and more subtle juices from the heart to the head, and so +on——it is not to be told in what a degree such a wayward +kind of friction works upon the more gross and solid parts, wasting the +fat and impairing the strength of a man every time as it goes backwards +and forwards.</p> + +<p>My father had certainly sunk under this evil, as certainly as he had +done under that of my <span class = "smallroman">CHRISTIAN +NAME</span>——had he not been rescued out of it, as he was +out of that, by a fresh evil———the misfortune of my +brother <i>Bobby’s</i> death.</p> + +<p>What is the life of man! Is it not to shift from side to +side?———from sorrow to sorrow?———to +button up one cause of vexation———and unbutton +another?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIV_chapXXXII" id = "bookIV_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">From</span> this moment I am to be +considered as heir-apparent to the <i>Shandy</i> family——and +it is from this point properly, that the story of my <span class = +"smallcaps">Life</span> and my <span class = "smallcaps">Opinions</span> +sets out. With all my hurry and precipitation, I have but been +clearing the ground to raise the building——and such a +building do I foresee it will turn out, as never was planned, and as +never was executed since <i>Adam</i>. In less than five minutes I shall +have thrown my pen into the fire, and the little drop of thick ink which +is left remaining at the bottom of my ink-horn, after +it—I have but half a score things to do in the +time——I have a thing to name——a thing +to lament——a thing to hope——a thing to +promise, and a thing to threaten—I have a thing to +suppose—a thing to declare——a thing to +conceal——a thing to choose, and a thing to pray +for———This chapter, therefore, I <i>name</i> the +chapter of <span class = +"smallcaps">Things</span>———and my next chapter to it, +that is, the first chapter of my next volume, if I live, shall be my +chapter upon <span class = "smallroman">WHISKERS</span>, in order to +keep up some sort of connection in my works.</p> + +<p>The thing I lament is, that things have crowded in so thick upon me, +that I have not been able to get into that part of my work, towards +which I have all the way looked forwards, with so much earnest desire; +and that is the Campaigns, but especially the amours of my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, the events of which are of so singular a nature, and so +Cervantick a cast, that if I can so manage it, as to convey but the same +impressions to every other brain, which the occurrences themselves +excite in my own—I will answer for it the book shall make its +way in the world, much better than its master has done before +it.——Oh <i>Tristram! Tristram!</i> can this but be once +brought about——the credit, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page248" id = "page248">248</a></span> +which will attend thee as an author, shall counterbalance the many evils +which have befallen thee as a man——thou wilt feast upon the +one——when thou hast lost all sense and remembrance of the +<span class = "locked">other!——</span></p> + +<p>No wonder I itch so much as I do, to get at these amours—They +are the choicest morsel of my whole story! and when I do get at +’em——assure yourselves, good folks—(nor do I value +whose squeamish stomach takes offence at it) I shall not be at +all nice in the choice of my words!——and that’s the thing I +have to <i>declare</i>.———I shall never get all +through in five minutes, that I fear——and the thing I +<i>hope</i> is, that your worships and reverences are not +offended—if you are, depend upon’t I’ll give you something, my +good gentry, next year to be offended at——that’s my dear +<i>Jenny’s</i> way—but who my <i>Jenny</i> is—and which is +the right and which the wrong end of a woman, is the thing to be +<i>concealed</i>—it shall be told you in the next chapter but one +to my chapter of Button-holes——and not one chapter +before.</p> + +<p>And now that you have just got to the end of these<a class = "tag" +name = "tag_4_14" id = "tag_4_14" href = "#note_4_14">14</a> four +volumes——the thing I have to <i>ask</i> is, how you feel +your heads? my own akes dismally!———as for your +healths, I know, they are much better.—True <i>Shandeism</i>, +think what you will against it, opens the heart and lungs, and like all +those affections which partake of its nature, it forces the blood and +other vital fluids of the body to run freely through its channels, makes +the wheel of life run long and chearfully round.</p> + +<p>Was I left, like <i>Sancho Panca</i>, to choose my kingdom, it should +not be maritime—or a kingdom of blacks to make a penny +of;—no, it should be a kingdom of hearty laughing subjects: And as +the bilious and more saturnine passions, by creating disorders in the +blood and humours, have as bad an influence, I see, upon the body +politick as body natural——and as nothing but a habit of +virtue can fully govern those passions, and subject them to +reason———I should add to my prayer—that God +would give my subjects grace to be as <span class = +"smallroman">WISE</span> as they were <span class = +"smallroman">MERRY</span>; and then should I be the happiest monarch, +and they the happiest people under heaven.</p> + +<p>And so, with this moral for the present, may it please your worships +and your reverences, I take my leave of you till this time +twelve-month, when, (unless this vile cough kills me in the meantime) +I’ll have another pluck at your beards, and lay open a story to the +world you little dream of.</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_4_1" id = "note_4_1" href = "#tag_4_1">1.</a> +As <i>Hafen Slawkenbergius de Nasis</i> is extremely scarce, it may not +be unacceptable to the learned reader to see the specimen of a few pages +of his original; I will make no reflection upon it, but that his +story-telling Latin is much more concise than his philosophic—and, +I think, has more of Latinity in it.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_2" id = "note_4_2" href = "#tag_4_2">2.</a> +<i>Hafen Slawkenbergius</i> means the Benedictine nuns of <i>Cluny</i>, +founded in the year 940, by <i>Odo</i>, abbé de <i>Cluny</i>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_3" id = "note_4_3" href = "#tag_4_3">3.</a> +Mr. <i>Shandy’s</i> compliments to orators——is very sensible +that <i>Slawkenbergius</i> has here changed his +metaphor———which he is very guilty +of:——that as a translator, Mr. <i>Shandy</i> has all along +done what he could to make him stick to it—but that here ’twas +impossible.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_4" id = "note_4_4" href = "#tag_4_4">4.</a> +Nonnulli ex nostratibus eadem loquendi formulâ utun. Quinimo & +Logistæ & Canonistæ——Vid. Parce Barne Jas in d. L. +Provincial. Constitut. de conjec. vid. Vol. Lib. 4. Titul. 1. n. 7. quâ +etiam in re conspir. Om de Promontorio Nas. Tichmak. ff. d. tit. 3. fol. +189. passim. Vid. Glos. de contrahend. empt, &c. necnon J. Scrudr, +in cap. § refut. per totum. Cum his cons. Rever. J. Tubal, Sentent. +& Prov. cap. 9. ff. 11, 12. obiter. V. & Librum, cui Tit. de +Terris & Phras. Belg. ad finem, cum comment, N. Bardy Belg. Vid. +Scrip. Argentotarens. de Antiq. Ecc. in Episc. Archiv. fid coll. per Von +Jacobum Koinshoven Folio Argent. 1583. præcip. ad finem. Quibus add. +Rebuff in L. obvenire de Signif. Nom. ff. fol. & de jure Gent. & +Civil. de protib. aliena feud. per federa, test. Joha. Luxius in +prolegom, quem velim videas, de Analy. Cap. 1, 2, 3. Vid. Idea.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_5" id = "note_4_5" href = "#tag_4_5">5.</a> +Hæc mira, satisque horrenda. Planetarum coitio sub Scorpio Asterismo in +nona cœli statione, quam Arabes religioni deputabant efficit <i>Martinum +Lutherum</i> sacrilegum hereticum, Christianæ religionis hostem +acerrimum atque prophanum, ex horoscopi directione ad Martis coitum, +religiosissimus obiit, ejus Anima scelestissima ad infernos +navigavit—ab Alecto, Tisiphone & Megara flagellis igneis +cruciata perenniter.</p> + +<p>——Lucas Gaurieus in Tractatu astrologico de præteritis +multorum hominum accidentibus per genituras examinatis.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_6" id = "note_4_6" href = "#tag_4_6">6.</a> +<i>Ce Fœtus</i> n’étoit pas plus grand que la paume de la main; mais son +pere l’ayant éxaminé en qualité de Médecin, & ayant trouvé que +c’etoit quâlque chose de plus qu’un Embryon, le fit transporter tout +vivant à Rapallo, ou il le fit voir à Jerôme Bardi & à d’autres +Médecins du lieu. On trouva qu’il ne lui manquoit rien d’essentiel à la +vie; & son pere pour faire voir un essai de son experience, +entreprit d’achever l’ouvrage de la Nature, & de travailler à la +formation de l’Enfant avec le même artifice que celui dont on se sert +pour faire écclorre les Poulets en Egypte. Il instruisit une Nourisse de +tout ce qu’elle avoit à faire, & ayant fait mettre son fils dans un +pour proprement accommodé, il reussit à l’élever & à lui faire +prendre ses accroissemens necessaires, par l’uniformité d’une chaleur +étrangere mesurée éxactement sur les dégrés d’un Thermométre, ou d’un +autre instrument équivalent. (Vide Mich. Giustinian, ne gli Scritt. +Liguri à Cart. 223. 488.)</p> + +<p>On auroit toujours été très satisfait de l’industrie d’un pere si +experimenté dans l’Art de la Generation, quand il n’auroit pû prolonger +la vie à son fils que pour quelques mois, ou pour peu d’années.</p> + +<p>Mais quand on se represente que l’Enfant a vecu près de quatre-vingts +ans, & qu’il a composé quatre-vingts Ouvrages differents tous fruits +d’une longue lecture—il faut convenir que tout ce qui est +incroyable n’est pas toujours faux, & que la <i>Vraisemblance n’est +pas toujours du côté de la Verité</i>.</p> + +<p>Il n’avoit que dix neuf ans lorsqu’il composa Gonopsychanthropologia +de Origine Animæ humanæ.</p> + +<p>(Les Enfans celebres, revûs & corrigés par M. de la Monnoye de +l’Academie Françoise.)</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_7" id = "note_4_7" href = "#tag_4_7">7.</a> +According to the original Editions.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_8" id = "note_4_8" href = "#tag_4_8">8.</a> +According to the original Editions.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_9" id = "note_4_9" href = "#tag_4_9">9.</a> +Vide Menagiana, Vol. I.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_10" id = "note_4_10" href = "#tag_4_10">10.</a> +Vide Swinburn on Testaments, Part 7, §8.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_11" id = "note_4_11" href = "#tag_4_11">11.</a> +Vide Brook, Abridg. Tit. Administr. N. 47.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_12" id = "note_4_12" href = "#tag_4_12">12.</a> +Mater non numeratur inter consanguineos, Bald. in ult. C. de Verb. +signific.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_13" id = "note_4_13" href = "#tag_4_13">13.</a> +Vide Brook, Abridg. tit. Administr. N. 47.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_4_14" id = "note_4_14" href = "#tag_4_14">14.</a> +According to the original Editions.</p> +</div> + + + + +<div class = "page"> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page249" id = "page249">249</a></span> + +<h2><a name = "bookV_title" id = "bookV_title"> +<span class = "small">THE LIFE AND OPINIONS</span></a><br /> +<span class = "tiny">OF</span><br /> +<span class = "extended">TRISTRAM SHANDY</span><br /> +<span class = "smaller">GENTLEMAN</span></h2> + +<div class = "heading"> + +<div class = "verse small"> +<p>Dixero si quid fortè jocosius, hoc mihi juris</p> +<p>Cum venia dabis.——</p> +<p class = "right smallcaps">Hor.</p> +</div> + +<p class = "deephang small"> +—Si quis calumnietur levius esse quam decet theologum, aut +mordacius quam deceat Christianum—non Ego, sed Democritus +dixit.—</p> +<p class = "right small smallcaps">Erasmus.</p> + +<p class = "deephang small"> +Si quis Clericus, aut Monachus, verba joculatoria, risum moventia, +sciebat, anathema esto.—</p> + +<p class = "right small smallcaps">Second Council of Carthage.</p> + +</div> +</div> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page250" id = "page250">250</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookV_dedic" id = "bookV_dedic"> +<span class = "small">TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE</span></a><br /> +<span class = "extended">JOHN,</span><br /> +<span class = "small extended">LORD VISCOUNT SPENCER</span></h3> + + +<p class = "inset smallcaps">My Lord,</p> + +<p><span class = "firstword">I humbly</span> beg leave to offer you +these two Volumes;<a class = "tag" name = "tag_D_1" id = "tag_D_1" href += "#note_D_1">1</a> they are the best my talents, with such bad health +as I have, could produce:—had Providence granted me a larger stock +of either, they had been a much more proper present to your +Lordship.</p> + +<p>I beg your Lordship will forgive me, if, at the same time I dedicate +this work to you, I join Lady <span class = +"smallcaps">Spencer</span>, in the liberty I take of inscribing the +story of <i>Le Fever</i> to her name; for which I have no other motive, +which my heart has informed me of, but that the story is a humane +one.</p> + +<p class = "center"> +I am,</p> + +<div class = "right"> +<p class = "center"> +<span class = "smallcaps">My Lord,</span><br /> +Your Lordship’s most devoted<br /> +and most humble Servant,</p> +<p class = "right"> +LAUR. STERNE.</p> +</div> + +<p class = "footnote"> +<a name = "note_D_1" id = "note_D_1" href = "#tag_D_1">1.</a> +Volumes V. and VI. in the first Edition.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page251" id = "page251">251</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookV" id = "bookV">BOOK V</a></h3> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapI" id = "bookV_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">If</span> it had not been for those two +mettlesome tits, and that madcap of a postillion who drove them from +Stilton to Stamford, the thought had never entered my head. He flew like +lightning——there was a slope of three miles and a +half——we scarce touched the ground——the motion +was most rapid——most impetuous———’twas +communicated to my brain—my heart partook of it——“By +the great God of day,” said I, looking towards the sun, and thrusting my +arm out of the fore-window of the chaise, as I made my vow, “I will +lock up my study-door the moment I get home, and throw the key of it +ninety feet below the surface of the earth, into the draw-well at the +back of my house.”</p> + +<p>The London waggon confirmed me in my resolution; it hung tottering +upon the hill, scarce progressive, drag’d—drag’d up by eight +<i>heavy beasts</i>—“by main strength!——quoth I, +nodding——but your betters draw the same way——and +something of everybody’s!——O rare!”</p> + +<p>Tell me, ye learned, shall we for ever be adding so much to the +<i>bulk</i>—so little to the <i>stock?</i></p> + +<p>Shall we for ever make new books, as apothecaries make new mixtures, +by pouring only out of one vessel into another?</p> + +<p>Are we for ever to be twisting, and untwisting the same rope? for +ever in the same track—for ever at the same pace?</p> + +<p>Shall we be destined to the days of eternity, on holy-days, as well +as working-days, to be shewing the <i>relicks of learning</i>, as monks +do the relicks of their saints—without working one—one +single miracle with them?</p> + +<p>Who made Man, with powers which dart him from earth to heaven in a +moment—that great, that most excellent, and most noble creature of +the world—the <i>miracle</i> of nature, as Zoroaster in his book +<span class = "greek" +title = "peri phuseôs [missing accent as printed]">περι φύσεως</span> called him—the <span class = +"smallcaps">Shekinah</span> of the divine presence, as +Chrysostom——the <i>image</i> of God, as +Moses——the <i>ray</i> of divinity, as Plato—the +<i>marvel</i> of <i>marvels</i>, as Aristotle—to go sneaking on at +this pitiful—pimping—pettifogging rate?</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page252" id = "page252">252</a></span> +<p>I scorn to be as abusive as Horace upon the +occasion———but if there is no catachresis in the wish, +and no sin in it, I wish from my soul, that every imitator in +<i>Great Britain</i>, <i>France</i>, and <i>Ireland</i>, had the farcy +for his pains; and that there was a good farcical house, large enough to +hold—aye—and sublimate them, <i>shag rag and bob-tail</i>, +male and female, all together: and this leads me to the affair of +<i>Whiskers</i>——but, by what chain of +ideas—I leave as a legacy in <i>mort-main</i> to Prudes and +Tartufs, to enjoy and make the most of.</p> + + +<h5 class = "smallroman"> +<a name = "bookV_whiskers" id = "bookV_whiskers">UPON WHISKERS</a></h5> + +<p>I’m sorry I made it——’twas as inconsiderate a promise as +ever entered a man’s head——A chapter upon whiskers! +alas! the world will not bear it—’tis a delicate +world——but I knew not of what mettle it was made—nor +had I ever seen the underwritten fragment; otherwise, as surely as noses +are noses, and whiskers are whiskers still (let the world say what it +will to the contrary); so surely would I have steered clear of this +dangerous chapter.</p> + + +<h5 class = "smallroman">THE FRAGMENT</h5> + +<p><span class = "space25">* * * * * * * * * * * *<br /> +* * * * * * * * * * * *</span><br /> +———You are half asleep, my good lady, said the old +gentleman, taking hold of the old lady’s hand, and giving it a gentle +squeeze, as he pronounced the word <i>Whiskers</i>——shall we +change the subject? By no means, replied the old lady—I like +your account of those matters; so throwing a thin gauze handkerchief +over her head, and leaning it back upon the chair with her face turned +towards him, and advancing her two feet as she reclined +herself——I desire, continued she, you will +go on.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman went on as follows:———Whiskers! +cried the queen of <i>Navarre</i>, dropping her knotting ball, as <i>La +Fosseuse</i> uttered the word——Whiskers, madam, said <i>La +Fosseuse</i>, pinning the ball to the queen’s apron, and making a +courtesy as she repeated it.</p> + +<p><i>La Fosseuse’s</i> voice was naturally soft and low, yet ’twas an +articulate voice: and every letter of the word <i>Whiskers</i> fell +distinctly upon the queen of <i>Navarre’s</i> ear—Whiskers! cried +the queen, laying a greater stress upon the word, and as if she had +still distrusted her ears——Whiskers! replied <i>La +Fosseuse</i>, repeating the word a third time——There is not +a cavalier, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page253" id = "page253">253</a></span> +madam, of his age in <i>Navarre</i>, continued the maid of honour, +pressing the page’s interest upon the queen, that has so gallant a +pair——Of what? cried <i>Margaret</i>, smiling—Of +whiskers, said <i>La Fosseuse</i>, with infinite modesty.</p> + +<p>The word <i>Whiskers</i> still stood its ground, and continued to be +made use of in most of the best companies throughout the little kingdom +of <i>Navarre</i>, notwithstanding the indiscreet use which <i>La +Fosseuse</i> had made of it: the truth was, <i>La Fosseuse</i> had +pronounced the word, not only before the queen, but upon sundry other +occasions at court, with an accent which always implied something of a +mystery—And as the court of <i>Margaret</i>, as all the world +knows, was at that time a mixture of gallantry and +devotion——and whiskers being as applicable to the one, as +the other, the word naturally stood its ground——it gain’d +full as much as it lost; that is, the clergy were for +it——the laity were against it——and for the +women,——<i>they</i> were divided.</p> + +<p>The excellency of the figure and mien of the young Sieur <i>De +Croix</i>, was at that time beginning to draw the attention of the maids +of honour towards the terrace before the palace gate, where the guard +was mounted. The lady <i>De Baussiere</i> fell deeply in love with +him,——<i>La Battarelle</i> did the same—it was the +finest weather for it, that ever was remembered in +<i>Navarre</i>——<i>La Guyol</i>, <i>La Maronette</i>, <i>La +Sabatiere</i>, fell in love with the Sieur <i>De Croix</i> +also——<i>La Rebours</i> and <i>La Fosseuse</i> knew +better——<i>De Croix</i> had failed in an attempt to +recommend himself to <i>La Rebours</i>; and <i>La Rebours</i> and <i>La +Fosseuse</i> were inseparable.</p> + +<p>The queen of <i>Navarre</i> was sitting with her ladies in the +painted bow-window, facing the gate of the second court, as <i>De +Croix</i> passed through it—He is handsome, said the Lady +<i>Baussiere</i>.——He has a good mien, said <i>La +Battarelle</i>——He is finely shaped, said <i>La +Guyol</i>—I never saw an officer of the horse-guards in my +life, said <i>La Maronette</i>, with two such legs——Or who +stood so well upon them, said <i>La +Sabatiere</i>———But he has no whiskers, cried <i>La +Fosseuse</i>——Not a pile, said <i>La Rebours</i>.</p> + +<p>The queen went directly to her oratory, musing all the way, as she +walked through the gallery, upon the subject; turning it this way and +that way in her fancy—<i>Ave Maria!</i>———what +can <i>La Fosseuse</i> mean? said she, kneeling down upon the +cushion.</p> + +<p><i>La Guyol</i>, <i>La Battarelle</i>, <i>La Maronette</i>, <i>La +Sabatiere</i>, retired instantly to their +chambers———Whiskers! said all four of them to +themselves, as they bolted their doors on the inside.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page254" id = "page254">254</a></span> +<p>The Lady <i>Carnavallette</i> was counting her beads with both hands, +unsuspected, under her farthingal——from St. <i>Antony</i> +down to St. <i>Ursula</i> inclusive, not a saint passed through her +fingers without whiskers; St. <i>Francis</i>, St. <i>Dominick</i>, St. +<i>Bennet</i>, St. <i>Basil</i>, St. <i>Bridget</i>, had all +whiskers.</p> + +<p>The Lady <i>Baussiere</i> had got into a wilderness of conceits, with +moralizing too intricately upon <i>La Fosseuse’s</i> +text——She mounted her palfrey, her page followed +her——the host passed by—the Lady <i>Baussiere</i> +rode on.</p> + +<p>One denier, cried the order of mercy—one single denier, in +behalf of a thousand patient captives, whose eyes look towards heaven +and you for their redemption.</p> + +<p>——The Lady <i>Baussiere</i> rode on.</p> + +<p>Pity the unhappy, said a devout, venerable, hoary-headed man, meekly +holding up a box, begirt with iron, in his withered +hands——I beg for the unfortunate—good my Lady, +’tis for a prison—for an hospital—’tis for an old +man—a poor man undone by shipwreck, by suretyship, by +fire——I call God and all his angels to +witness——’tis to clothe the naked——to feed the +hungry——’tis to comfort the sick and the broken-hearted.</p> + +<p>The Lady <i>Baussiere</i> rode on.</p> + +<p>A decayed kinsman bowed himself to the ground.</p> + +<p>——The Lady <i>Baussiere</i> rode on.</p> + +<p>He ran begging bare-headed on one side of her palfrey, conjuring her +by the former bonds of friendship, alliance, consanguinity, +etc.——Cousin, aunt, sister, mother,——for +virtue’s sake, for your own, for mine, for Christ’s sake, remember +me——pity me.</p> + +<p>——The Lady <i>Baussiere</i> rode on.</p> + +<p>Take hold of my whiskers, said the Lady +<i>Baussiere</i>——The page took hold of her palfrey. She +dismounted at the end of the terrace.</p> + +<p>There are some trains of certain ideas which leave prints of +themselves about our eyes and eye-brows; and there is a consciousness of +it, somewhere about the heart, which serves but to make these etchings +the stronger—we see, spell, and put them together without a +dictionary.</p> + +<p>Ha, ha! he, hee! cried <i>La Guyol</i> and <i>La Sabatiere</i>, +looking close at each other’s prints——Ho, ho! cried <i>La +Battarelle</i> and <i>Maronette</i>, doing the same:—Whist! cried +one—st, st,—said a second—hush, quoth a +third—poo, poo, replied a fourth—gramercy! cried the Lady +<i>Carnavallette</i>;——’twas she who bewhisker’d St. +<i>Bridget</i>.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page255" id = "page255">255</a></span> +<p><i>La Fosseuse</i> drew her bodkin from the knot of her hair, and +having traced the outline of a small whisker, with the blunt end of it, +upon one side of her upper lip, put it into <i>La Rebours’</i> +hand—<i>La Rebours</i> shook her head.</p> + +<p>The Lady <i>Baussiere</i> coughed thrice into the inside of her +muff—<i>La Guyol</i> smiled—Fy, said the Lady +<i>Baussiere</i>. The queen of <i>Navarre</i> touched her eye with the +tip of her fore-finger—as much as to say, I understand you +all.</p> + +<p>’Twas plain to the whole court the word was ruined: <i>La +Fosseuse</i> had given it a wound, and it was not the better for passing +through all these defiles——It made a faint stand, however, +for a few months, by the expiration of which, the Sieur <i>De Croix</i>, +finding it high time to leave <i>Navarre</i> for want of +whiskers——the word in course became indecent, and (after a +few efforts) absolutely unfit for use.</p> + +<p>The best word, in the best language of the best world, must have +suffered under such combinations.———The curate of +<i>d’Estella</i> wrote a book against them, setting forth the dangers of +accessory ideas, and warning the <i>Navarois</i> against them.</p> + +<p>Does not all the world know, said the curate <i>d’Estella</i> at the +conclusion of his work, that Noses ran the same fate some centuries ago +in most parts of <i>Europe</i>, which Whiskers have now done in the +kingdom of <i>Navarre?</i>—The evil indeed spread no farther +then—but have not beds and bolsters, and nightcaps and +chamber-pots stood upon the brink of destruction ever since? Are not +trouse, and placket-holes, and pump-handles—and spigots and +faucets, in danger still from the same +association?——Chastity, by nature, the gentlest of all +affections—give it but its head——’tis like a ramping +and a roaring lion.</p> + +<p>The drift of the curate <i>d’Estella’s</i> argument was not +understood.—They ran the scent the wrong way.—The world +bridled his ass at the tail.—And when the <i>extremes</i> of <span +class = "smallroman">DELICACY</span>, and the <i>beginnings</i> of <span +class = "smallroman">CONCUPISCENCE</span>, hold their next provincial +chapter together, they may decree that bawdy also.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapII" id = "bookV_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> my father received the letter +which brought him the melancholy account of my brother <i>Bobby’s</i> +death, he was busy calculating the expence of his riding post from +<i>Calais</i> to <i>Paris</i>, and so on to <i>Lyons</i>.</p> + +<p>’Twas a most inauspicious journey; my father having had +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page256" id = "page256">256</a></span> +every foot of it to travel over again, and his calculation to begin +afresh, when he had almost got to the end of it, by <i>Obadiah’s</i> +opening the door to acquaint him the family was out of yeast—and +to ask whether he might not take the great coach-horse early in the +morning and ride in search of some.—With all my heart, +<i>Obadiah</i>, said my father (pursuing his journey)—take the +coach-horse, and welcome.——But he wants a shoe, poor +creature! said <i>Obadiah</i>.——Poor creature! said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, vibrating the note back again, like a string in unison. +Then ride the <i>Scotch</i> horse, quoth my father hastily.—He +cannot bear a saddle upon his back, quoth <i>Obadiah</i>, for the whole +world.——The devil’s in that horse; then take <span class = +"smallcaps">Patriot</span>, cried my father, and shut the +door.——<span class = "smallcaps">Patriot</span> is sold, +said <i>Obadiah</i>. Here’s for you! cried my father, making a pause, +and looking in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> face, as if the thing had not been +a matter of fact.—Your worship ordered me to sell him last +<i>April</i>, said <i>Obadiah</i>.—Then go on foot for your pains, +cried my father——I had much rather walk than ride, said +<i>Obadiah</i>, shutting the door.</p> + +<p>What plagues, cried my father, going on with his +calculation.——But the waters are out, said +<i>Obadiah</i>,—opening the door again.</p> + +<p>Till that moment, my father, who had a map of <i>Sanson’s</i>, and a +book of the post-roads before him, had kept his hand upon the head of +his compasses, with one foot of them fixed upon <i>Nevers</i>, the last +stage he had paid for—purposing to go on from that point with his +journey and calculation, as soon as <i>Obadiah</i> quitted the room: but +this second attack of <i>Obadiah’s</i>, in opening the door and laying +the whole country under water, was too much.——He let go his +compasses—or rather with a mixed motion between accident and +anger, he threw them upon the table; and then there was nothing for him +to do, but to return back to <i>Calais</i> (like many others) as wise as +he had set out.</p> + +<p>When the letter was brought into the parlour, which contained the +news of my brother’s death, my father had got forwards again upon his +journey to within a stride of the compasses of the very same stage of +<i>Nevers</i>.——By your leave, Mons. <i>Sanson</i>, cried my +father, striking the point of his compasses through <i>Nevers</i> into +the table—and nodding to my uncle <i>Toby</i> to see what was in +the letter—twice of one night, is too much for an <i>English</i> +gentleman and his son, Mons. <i>Sanson</i>, to be turned back from so +lousy a town as <i>Nevers</i>—What think’st thou, <i>Toby?</i> +added my father in a sprightly tone.——Unless it be a +garrison town, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——for +then——I shall be a fool, said +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page257" id = "page257">257</a></span> +my father, smiling to himself, as long as I live.—So giving a +second nod—and keeping his compasses still upon <i>Nevers</i> with +one hand, and holding his book of the post-roads in the other—half +calculating and half listening, he leaned forwards upon the table with +both elbows, as my uncle <i>Toby</i> hummed over the letter.</p> + +<p> +<span class = "space25"> —— —— +—— —— —— —— +——<br /> +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— ——<br /> +——  —— —— —— +—— —— —— ——</span><br /> +—— —— —— +—— —he’s gone! said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——Where——Who? cried my +father.——My nephew, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——What—without leave—without +money—without governor? cried my father in amazement. +No:——he is dead, my dear brother, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.—Without being ill? cried my father +again.—I dare say not, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in a low +voice, and fetching a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart, he has +been ill enough, poor lad! I’ll answer for him——for he is +dead.</p> + +<p>When <i>Agrippina</i> was told of her son’s death, <i>Tacitus</i> +informs us, that, not being able to moderate the violence of her +passions, she abruptly broke off her work.—My father stuck his +compasses into <i>Nevers</i>, but so much the faster.—What +contrarieties! his, indeed, was matter of +calculation!—<i>Agrippina’s</i> must have been quite a different +affair; who else could pretend to reason from history?</p> + +<p>How my father went on, in my opinion, deserves a chapter to +itself.—</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapIII" id = "bookV_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p>—— ——And a chapter it shall have, and +a devil of a one too—so look to yourselves.</p> + +<p>’Tis either <i>Plato</i>, or <i>Plutarch</i>, or <i>Seneca</i>, or +<i>Xenophon</i>, or <i>Epictetus</i>, or <i>Theophrastus</i>, or +<i>Lucian</i>—or some one perhaps of later date—either +<i>Cardan</i>, or <i>Budæus</i>, or <i>Petrarch</i>, or +<i>Stella</i>—or possibly it may be some divine or father of the +church, St. <i>Austin</i>, or St. <i>Cyprian</i>, or <i>Barnard</i>, who +affirms that it is an irresistible and natural passion to weep for the +loss of our friends or children—and <i>Seneca</i> (I’m positive) +tells us somewhere, that such griefs evacuate themselves best by that +particular channel—And accordingly we find, that <i>David</i> wept +for his son <i>Absalom</i>—<i>Adrian</i> for his +<i>Antinous</i>—<i>Niobe</i> for her children, and that +<i>Apollodorus</i> and <i>Crito</i> both shed tears for <i>Socrates</i> +before his death.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page258" id = "page258">258</a></span> +<p>My father managed his affliction otherwise; and indeed differently +from most men either ancient or modern; for he neither wept it away, as +the <i>Hebrews</i> and the <i>Romans</i>—or slept it off, as the +<i>Laplanders</i>—or hanged it, as the <i>English</i>, or drowned +it, as the <i>Germans</i>—nor did he curse it, or damn it, or +excommunicate it, or rhyme it, or lillabullero <span class = +"locked">it.——</span></p> + +<p>——He got rid of it, however.</p> + +<p>Will your worships give me leave to squeeze in a story between these +two pages?</p> + +<p>When <i>Tully</i> was bereft of his dear daughter <i>Tullia</i>, at +first he laid it to his heart,—he listened to the voice of nature, +and modulated his own unto it.—O my <i>Tullia!</i> my daughter! my +child!—still, still, still,—’twas O my +<i>Tullia!</i>—my <i>Tullia!</i> Methinks I see my <i>Tullia</i>, +I hear my <i>Tullia</i>, I talk with my +<i>Tullia</i>.—But as soon as he began to look into the stores of +philosophy, and consider how many excellent things might be said upon +the occasion—nobody upon earth can conceive, says the great +orator, how happy, how joyful it made me.</p> + +<p>My father was as proud of his eloquence as <span class = +"smallcaps">Marcus Tullius Cicero</span> could be for his life, and, for +aught I am convinced of to the contrary at present, with as much reason: +it was indeed his strength—and his weakness too.——His +strength—for he was by nature eloquent; and his weakness—for +he was hourly a dupe to it; and, provided an occasion in life would but +permit him to shew his talents, or say either a wise thing, +a witty, or a shrewd one—(bating the case of a systematic +misfortune)—he had all he wanted.—A blessing which tied +up my father’s tongue, and a misfortune which let it loose with a good +grace, were pretty equal: sometimes, indeed, the misfortune was the +better of the two; for instance, where the pleasure of the harangue was +as <i>ten</i>, and the pain of the misfortune but as +<i>five</i>—my father gained half in half, and consequently was as +well again off, as if it had never befallen him.</p> + +<p>This clue will unravel what otherwise would seem very inconsistent in +my father’s domestic character; and it is this, that, in the +provocations arising from the neglects and blunders of servants, or +other mishaps unavoidable in a family, his anger or rather the duration +of it, eternally ran counter to all conjecture.</p> + +<p>My father had a favourite little mare, which he had consigned over to +a most beautiful Arabian horse, in order to have a pad out of her for +his own riding: he was sanguine in all his projects; so talked about his +pad every day with as absolute a security, as if it had been reared, +broke,—and bridled and saddled at his +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page259" id = "page259">259</a></span> +door ready for mounting. By some neglect or other in <i>Obadiah</i>, it +so fell out, that my father’s expectations were answered with nothing +better than a mule, and as ugly a beast of the kind as ever was +produced.</p> + +<p>My mother and my uncle <i>Toby</i> expected my father would be the +death of <i>Obadiah</i>—and that there never would be an end of +the disaster.——See here! you rascal, cried my father, +pointing to the mule, what you have done!——It was not me, +said <i>Obadiah</i>.——How do I know that? replied my +father.</p> + +<p>Triumph swam in my father’s eyes, at the repartee—the +<i>Attic</i> salt brought water into them—and so <i>Obadiah</i> +heard no more about it.</p> + +<p>Now let us go back to my brother’s death.</p> + +<p>Philosophy has a fine saying for everything.—For <i>Death</i> +it has an entire set; the misery was, they all at once rushed into my +father’s head, that ’twas difficult to string them together, so as to +make anything of a consistent show out of them.—He took them as +they came.</p> + +<p>“’Tis an inevitable chance—the first statute in <i>Magna +Charta</i>—it is an everlasting act of parliament, my dear +brother,——<i>All must die.</i></p> + +<p>“If my son could not have died, it had been matter of +wonder,—not that he is dead.</p> + +<p>“Monarchs and princes dance in the same ring with us.</p> + +<p>“—<i>To die</i>, is the great debt and tribute due unto nature: +tombs and monuments, which should perpetuate our memories, pay it +themselves; and the proudest pyramid of them all, which wealth and +science have erected, has lost its apex, and stands obtruncated in the +traveller’s horizon.” (My father found he got great ease, and +went on)—“Kingdoms and provinces, and towns and cities, have +they not their periods? and when those principles and powers, which at +first cemented and put them together, have performed their several +evolutions, they fall back.”—Brother <i>Shandy</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, laying down his pipe at the word +<i>evolutions</i>—Revolutions, I meant, quoth my +father,—by heaven! I meant revolutions, brother +<i>Toby</i>—evolutions is nonsense.——’Tis not +nonsense,—said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——But is it not +nonsense to break the thread of such a discourse upon such an occasion? +cried my father—do not—dear <i>Toby</i>, continued he, +taking him by the hand, do not—do not, I beseech thee, +interrupt me at this crisis.——My uncle <i>Toby</i> put his +pipe into his mouth.</p> + +<p>“Where is <i>Troy</i> and <i>Mycenæ</i>, and <i>Thebes</i> and +<i>Delos</i>, and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page260" id = "page260">260</a></span> +<i>Persepolis</i> and <i>Agrigentum?</i>”—continued my father, +taking up his book of post-cards, which he had laid down.—“What is +become, brother <i>Toby</i>, of <i>Nineveh</i> and <i>Babylon</i>, of +<i>Cizicum</i> and <i>Mitylenæ?</i> The fairest towns that ever the sun +rose upon, are now no more; the names only are left, and those (for many +of them are wrong spelt) are falling themselves by piece-meals to decay, +and in length of time will be forgotten, and involved with everything in +a perpetual night: the world itself, brother <i>Toby</i>, +must—must come to an end.</p> + +<p>“Returning out of <i>Asia</i>, when I sailed from <i>Ægina</i> +towards <i>Megara</i>,” (<i>when can this have been? thought my uncle +Toby</i>) “I began to view the country round about. <i>Ægina</i> +was behind me, <i>Megara</i> was before, <i>Pyræus</i> on the right +hand, <i>Corinth</i> on the left.—What flourishing towns now +prostrate upon the earth! Alas! alas! said I to myself, that man should +disturb his soul for the loss of a child, when so much as this lies +awfully buried in his presence——Remember, said I to myself +again—remember thou art a <span class = +"locked">man.”—</span></p> + +<p>Now my uncle <i>Toby</i> knew not that this last paragraph was an +extract of <i>Servius Sulpicius’s</i> consolatory letter to +<i>Tully</i>.—He had as little skill, honest man, in the +fragments, as he had in the whole pieces of antiquity.—And as my +father, whilst he was concerned in the <i>Turkey</i> trade, had been +three or four different times in the <i>Levant</i>, in one of which he +had staid a whole year and an half at <i>Zant</i>, my uncle <i>Toby</i> +naturally concluded, that, in some one of these periods, he had taken a +trip across the <i>Archipelago</i> into <i>Asia</i>; and that all this +sailing affair with <i>Ægina</i> behind, and <i>Megara</i> before, and +<i>Pyræus</i> on the right hand, &c., &c., was nothing more than +the true course of my father’s voyage and reflections.—’Twas +certainly in his <i>manner</i>, and many an undertaking critic would +have built two stories higher upon worse foundations.—And pray, +brother, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, laying the end of his pipe upon my +father’s hand in a kindly way of interruption—but waiting till he +finished the account—what year of our Lord was this?—’Twas +no year of our Lord, replied my father.—That’s impossible, cried +my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—Simpleton! said my father,—’twas forty +years before Christ was born.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> had but two things for it; either to suppose his +brother to be the wandering <i>Jew</i>, or that his misfortunes had +disordered his brain.—“May the Lord God of heaven and earth +protect him and restore him,” said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, praying +silently for my father, and with tears in his eyes.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page261" id = "page261">261</a></span> +<p>—My father placed the tears to a proper account, and went on +with his harangue with great spirit.</p> + +<p>“There is not such great odds, brother <i>Toby</i>, betwixt good and +evil, as the world imagines”——(this way of setting off, by +the bye, was not likely to cure my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +suspicions.)——“Labour, sorrow, grief, sickness, want, and +woe, are the sauces of life.”—Much good may it do them—said +my uncle <i>Toby</i> to <span class = +"locked">himself.———</span></p> + +<p>“My son is dead!—so much the better;—’tis a shame in such +a tempest to have but one anchor.”</p> + +<p>“But he is gone for ever from us!—be it so. He is got from +under the hands of his barber before he was bald—he is but risen +from a feast before he was surfeited—from a banquet before he had +got drunken.”</p> + +<p>“The <i>Thracians</i> wept when a child was born”—(and we were +very near it, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>)—“and feasted and made +merry when a man went out of the world; and with +reason.——Death opens the gate of fame, and shuts the gate of +envy after it,—it unlooses the chain of the captive, and puts the +bondsman’s task into another man’s hands.”</p> + +<p>“Shew me the man, who knows what life is, who dreads it, and I’ll +shew thee a prisoner who dreads his liberty.”</p> + +<p>Is it not better, my dear brother <i>Toby</i>, (for mark—our +appetites are but diseases)—is it not better not to hunger at all, +than to eat?—not to thirst, than to take physic to +cure it?</p> + +<p>Is it not better to be freed from cares and agues, from love and +melancholy, and the other hot and cold fits of life, than, like a galled +traveller, who comes weary to his inn, to be bound to begin his journey +afresh?</p> + +<p>There is no terrour, brother <i>Toby</i>, in its looks, but what it +borrows from groans and convulsions—and the blowing of noses and +the wiping away of tears with the bottoms of curtains, in a dying man’s +room.—Strip it of these, what is it?—’Tis better in battle +than in bed, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—Take away its herses, its +mutes, and its mourning,—its plumes, scutcheons, and other +mechanic aids—What is it?——<i>Better in battle!</i> +continued my father, smiling, for he had absolutely forgot my brother +<i>Bobby</i>—’tis terrible no way—for consider, brother +<i>Toby</i>,—when we <i>are</i>—death is +<i>not</i>;—and when death <i>is</i>—we are <i>not</i>. My +uncle <i>Toby</i> laid down his pipe to consider the proposition; my +father’s eloquence was too rapid to stay for any man—away it +went,—and hurried my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> ideas along with <span +class = "locked">it.——</span></p> + +<p>For this reason, continued my father, ’tis worthy to recollect +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page262" id = "page262">262</a></span> +how little alteration, in great men, the approaches of death have +made.—<i>Vespasian</i> died in a jest upon his +close-stool—<i>Galba</i> with a sentence—<i>Septimus +Severus</i> in a dispatch—<i>Tiberius</i> in dissimulation, and +<i>Cæsar Augustus</i> in a compliment.—I hope ’twas a sincere +one—quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>—’Twas to his wife,—said my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapIV" id = "bookV_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p>——And lastly—for all the choice anecdotes which +history can produce of this matter, continued my father,—this, +like the gilded dome which covers in the fabric—crowns <span class += "locked">all.—</span></p> + +<p>’Tis of <i>Cornelius Gallus</i>, the prætor—which, I dare say, +brother <i>Toby</i>, you have read,—I dare say I have not, +replied my uncle.——He died, said my father, as +*************** —And if it was with his wife, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—there could be no hurt in it—That’s more than I +know—replied my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapV" id = "bookV_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> mother was going very gingerly in +the dark along the passage which led to the parlour, as my uncle +<i>Toby</i> pronounced the word <i>wife</i>.—’Tis a shrill +penetrating sound of itself, and <i>Obadiah</i> had helped it by leaving +the door a little a-jar, so that my mother heard enough of it to imagine +herself the subject of the conversation; so laying the edge of her +finger across her two lips—holding in her breath, and bending her +head a little downwards, with a twist of her neck—(not towards the +door, but from it, by which means her ear was brought to the +chink)—she listened with all her powers:——the +listening slave, with the Goddess of Silence at his back, could not have +given a finer thought for an intaglio.</p> + +<p>In this attitude I am determined to let her stand for five minutes: +till I bring up the affairs of the kitchen (as <i>Rapin</i> does +those of the church) to the same period.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapVI" id = "bookV_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Though</span> in one sense, our family was +certainly a simple machine, as it consisted of a few wheels; yet there +was thus much to be +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page263" id = "page263">263</a></span> +said for it, that these wheels were set in motion by so many different +springs, and acted one upon the other from such a variety of strange +principles and impulses——that though it was a simple +machine, it had all the honour and advantages of a complex +one,——and a number of as odd movements within it, as ever +were beheld in the inside of a <i>Dutch</i> silk-mill.</p> + +<p>Amongst these there was one, I am going to speak of, in which, +perhaps, it was not altogether so singular, as in many others; and it +was this, that whatever motion, debate, harangue, dialogue, project, or +dissertation, was going forwards in the parlour, there was generally +another at the same time, and upon the same subject, running parallel +along with it in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Now to bring this about, whenever an extraordinary message, or +letter, was delivered in the parlour—or a discourse suspended till +a servant went out—or the lines of discontent were observed to +hang upon the brows of my father or mother—or, in short, when +anything was supposed to be upon the tapis worth knowing or listening +to, ’twas the rule to leave the door, not absolutely shut, but somewhat +a-jar—as it stands just now,—which, under covert of the bad +hinge (and that possibly might be one of the many reasons why it was +never mended), it was not difficult to manage; by which means, in all +these cases, a passage was generally left, not indeed as wide as +the <i>Dardanelles</i>, but wide enough, for all that, to carry on as +much of this wind-ward trade, as was sufficient to save my father the +trouble of governing his house;—my mother at this moment stands +profiting by it.—<i>Obadiah</i> did the same thing, as soon as he +had left the letter upon the table which brought the news of my +brother’s death, so that before my father had well got over his +surprise, and entered upon this harangue,—had <i>Trim</i> got upon +his legs, to speak his sentiments upon the subject.</p> + +<p>A curious observer of nature, had he been worth the inventory of all +Job’s stock—though by the by, <i>your curious observers are seldom +worth a groat</i>—would have given the half of it, to have heard +Corporal <i>Trim</i> and my father, two orators so contrasted by nature +and education, haranguing over the same bier.</p> + +<p>My father—a man of deep reading—prompt memory—with +<i>Cato</i>, and <i>Seneca</i>, and <i>Epictetus</i>, at his fingers +<span class = "locked">ends.—</span></p> + +<p>The corporal—with nothing—to remember—of no deeper +reading than his muster-roll—or greater names at his fingers end, +than the contents of it.</p> + +<p>The one proceeding from period to period, by metaphor and allusion, +and striking the fancy as he went along (as men of wit +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page264" id = "page264">264</a></span> +and fancy do) with the entertainment and pleasantry of his pictures +and images.</p> + +<p>The other, without wit or antithesis, or point, or turn, this way or +that; but leaving the images on one side, and the picture on the other, +going straight forwards as nature could lead him, to the heart. +O <i>Trim!</i> would to heaven thou had’st a better +historian!—would thy historian had a better pair of +breeches!——O ye critics! will nothing melt you?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapVII" id = "bookV_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p>———My young master in <i>London</i> is dead! said +<i>Obadiah</i>.—</p> + +<p>———A green sattin night-gown of my mother’s which +had been twice scoured, was the first idea which <i>Obadiah’s</i> +exclamation brought into <i>Susannah’s</i> head.—Well might +<i>Locke</i> write a chapter upon the imperfection of words.—Then, +quoth <i>Susannah</i>, we must all go into mourning.—But note a +second time: the word <i>mourning</i>, notwithstanding <i>Susannah</i> +made use of it herself—failed also of doing its office; it excited +not one single idea, tinged either with grey or black,—all was +green.——The green sattin night-gown hung there still.</p> + +<p>—O! ’twill be the death of my poor mistress, cried +<i>Susannah</i>.—My mother’s whole wardrobe followed.—What a +procession! her red damask,—her orange tawney,—her white and +yellow lutestrings,—her brown taffata,—her bone-laced caps, +her bed-gowns, and comfortable under-petticoats.—Not a rag was +left behind.—“<i>No,—she will never look up again</i>,” said +<i>Susannah</i>.</p> + +<p>We had a fat, foolish scullion—my father, I think, kept her for +her simplicity;—she had been all autumn struggling with a +dropsy.—He is dead, said <i>Obadiah</i>,—he is certainly +dead!—So am not I, said the foolish scullion.</p> + +<p>——Here is sad news, <i>Trim</i>, cried <i>Susannah</i>, +wiping her eyes as <i>Trim</i> stepp’d into the kitchen,—master +<i>Bobby</i> is dead and <i>buried</i>—the funeral was an +interpolation of <i>Susannah’s</i>—we shall have all to go into +mourning, said <i>Susannah</i>.</p> + +<p>I hope not, said <i>Trim</i>.—You hope not! cried +<i>Susannah</i> earnestly.—The mourning ran not in <i>Trim’s</i> +head, whatever it did in <i>Susannah’s</i>.—I hope—said +<i>Trim</i>, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not +true.—I heard the letter read with my own ears, answered +<i>Obadiah</i>; and we shall have a terrible piece of work of it in +stubbing the Ox-moor.—Oh! he’s dead, said +<i>Susannah</i>.—As sure, said the scullion, as I’m alive.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page265" id = "page265">265</a></span> +<p>I lament for him from my heart and my soul, said <i>Trim</i>, +fetching a sigh.—Poor creature!—poor boy!—poor +gentleman.</p> + +<p>—He was alive last <i>Whitsontide!</i> said the +coachman.—<i>Whitsontide!</i> alas! cried <i>Trim</i>, extending +his right arm, and falling instantly into the same attitude in which he +read the sermon,—what is <i>Whitsontide</i>, <i>Jonathan</i> (for +that was the coachman’s name), or <i>Shrovetide</i>, or any tide or time +past, to this? Are we not here now, continued the corporal (striking the +end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea +of health and stability)—and are we not—(dropping his hat +upon the ground) gone! in a moment!—’Twas infinitely striking! +<i>Susannah</i> burst into a flood of tears.—We are not stocks and +stones.—<i>Jonathan</i>, <i>Obadiah</i>, the cook-maid, all +melted.—The foolish fat scullion herself, who was scouring a +fish-kettle upon her knees, was rous’d with it.—The whole kitchen +crowded about the corporal.</p> + +<p>Now, as I perceive plainly, that the preservation of our constitution +in church and state,—and possibly the preservation of the whole +world—or what is the same thing, the distribution and balance of +its property and power, may in time to come depend greatly upon the +right understanding of this stroke of the corporal’s +eloquence—I do demand your attention—your worships and +reverences, for any ten pages together, take them where you will in any +other part of the work, shall sleep for it at your ease.</p> + +<p>I said, “we were not stocks and stones”—’tis very well. I +should have added, nor are we angels, I wish we were,—but men +clothed with bodies, and governed by our imaginations;—and what a +junketing piece of work of it there is, betwixt these and our seven +senses, especially some of them, for my own part, I own it, +I am ashamed to confess. Let it suffice to affirm, that of all the +senses, the eye (for I absolutely deny the touch, though most of your +<i>Barbati</i>, I know, are for it) has the quickest commerce +with the soul,—gives a smarter stroke, and leaves something more +inexpressible upon the fancy, than words can either convey—or +sometimes, get rid of.</p> + +<p>—I’ve gone a little about—no matter, ’tis for +health—let us only carry it back in our mind to the mortality of +<i>Trim’s</i> hat.—“Are we not here now,—and gone in a +moment?”—There was nothing in the sentence—’twas one of your +self-evident truths we have the advantage of hearing every day; and if +<i>Trim</i> had not trusted more to his hat than his head—he had +made nothing at all of it.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page266" id = "page266">266</a></span> +<p>———“Are we not here now;” continued the corporal, +“and are we not”—(dropping his hat plump upon the ground—and +pausing, before he pronounced the word)—“gone! in a moment?” The +descent of the hat was as if a heavy lump of clay had been kneeded into +the crown of it.——Nothing could have expressed the sentiment +of mortality, of which it was the type and fore-runner, like +it,—his hand seemed to vanish from under it,—it fell +dead,—the corporal’s eye fixed upon it, as upon a +corpse,—and <i>Susannah</i> burst into a flood of tears.</p> + +<p>Now—Ten thousand, and ten thousand times ten thousand (for +matter and motion are infinite) are the ways by which a hat may be +dropped upon the ground, without any effect.——Had he flung +it, or thrown it, or cast it, or skimmed it, or squirted it, or let it +slip or fall in any possible direction under heaven,—or in the +best direction that could be given to it,—had he dropped it like a +goose—like a puppy—like an ass—or in doing it, or even +after he had done, had he looked like a fool—like a +ninny—like a nincompoop—it had fail’d, and the effect upon +the heart had been lost.</p> + +<p>Ye who govern this mighty world and its mighty concerns with the +<i>engines</i> of eloquence,—who heat it, and cool it, and melt +it, and mollify it,——and then harden it again to <i>your +purpose</i>——</p> + +<p>Ye who wind and turn the passions with this great windlass, and, +having done it, lead the owners of them, whither ye think <span class = +"locked">meet—</span></p> + +<p>Ye, lastly, who drive——and why not, Ye also who are +driven, like turkeys to market with a stick and a red +clout—meditate—meditate, I beseech you, upon +<i>Trim’s</i> hat.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapVIII" id = "bookV_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Stay</span>——I have a small +account to settle with the reader before <i>Trim</i> can go on with his +harangue.—It shall be done in two minutes.</p> + +<p>Amongst many other book-debts, all of which I shall discharge in due +time,—I own myself a debtor to the world for two +items,—a chapter upon <i>chamber-maids and button-holes</i>, +which, in the former part of my work, I promised and fully intended +to pay off this year: but some of your worships and reverences telling +me, that the two subjects, especially so connected together, might +endanger the morals of the world,—I pray the chapter +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page267" id = "page267">267</a></span> +upon chamber-maids and button-holes may be forgiven me,—and that +they will accept of the last chapter in lieu of it; which is nothing, +an’t please your reverences, but a chapter of <i>chamber-maids, green +gowns, and old hats</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Trim</i> took <ins class = "correction" +title = "missing ‘hat’ may be intentional">his</ins> off the ground,—put it upon his +head,—and then went on with his oration upon death, in manner and +form following.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapIX" id = "bookV_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p>———To us, <i>Jonathan</i>, who know not what want +or care is—who live here in the service of two of the best of +masters—(bating in my own case his majesty King <i>William</i> the +Third, whom I had the honour to serve both in <i>Ireland</i> and +<i>Flanders</i>)—I own it, that from <i>Whitsontide</i> to +within three weeks of <i>Christmas</i>,—’tis not long—’tis +like nothing;—but to those, <i>Jonathan</i>, who know what death +is, and what havock and destruction he can make, before a man can well +wheel about—’tis like a whole age.—O <i>Jonathan!</i> +’twould make a good-natured man’s heart bleed, to consider, continued +the corporal (standing perpendicularly), how low many a brave and +upright fellow has been laid since that time!—And trust me, +<i>Susy</i>, added the corporal, turning to <i>Susannah</i>, whose eyes +were swimming in water,—before that time comes round +again,—many a bright eye will be dim.—<i>Susannah</i> placed +it to the right side of the page—she wept—but she court’sied +too.—Are we not, continued <i>Trim</i>, looking still at +<i>Susannah</i>—are we not like a flower of the +field—a tear of pride stole in betwixt every two tears of +humiliation—else no tongue could have described <i>Susannah’s</i> +affliction—is not all flesh grass?—’Tis clay,—’tis +dirt.—They all looked directly at the scullion,—the scullion +had just been scouring a fish-kettle.—It was not <span class = +"locked">fair.——</span></p> + +<p>—What is the finest face that ever man looked at!—I could +hear <i>Trim</i> talk so for ever, cried <i>Susannah</i>,—what is +it! (<i>Susannah</i> laid her hand upon <i>Trim’s</i> +shoulder)—but corruption?——<i>Susannah</i> took it +off.</p> + +<p>Now I love you for this—and ’tis this delicious mixture within +you which makes you dear creatures what you are—and he who hates +you for it———all I can say of the matter is—That +he has either a pumpkin for his head—or a pippin for his +heart,—and whenever he is dissected ’twill be found so.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page268" id = "page268">268</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapX" id = "bookV_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Whether</span> <i>Susannah</i>, by taking +her hand too suddenly from off the corporal’s shoulder (by the +whisking about of her passions)——broke a little the chain of +his <span class = "locked">reflexions——</span></p> + +<p>Or whether the corporal began to be suspicious, he had got into the +doctor’s quarters, and was talking more like the chaplain than <span +class = "locked">himself———</span></p> + +<p> +Or whether - - - - - - - + - - - - - - - - +- - - - - - - - +-<br /> +Or whether——for in all such cases a man of invention and +parts may with pleasure fill a couple of pages with +suppositions——which of all these was the cause, let the +curious physiologist, or the curious anybody determine——’tis +certain, at least, the corporal went on thus with his harangue.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I declare it, that out of doors, I value not death +at all:—not this ... added the corporal, snapping his +fingers,—but with an air which no one but the corporal could have +given to the sentiment.—In battle, I value death not this +. . . and let him not take me cowardly, like poor <i>Joe +Gibbins</i>, in scouring his gun—What is he? A pull of a +trigger—a push of a bayonet an inch this way or +that—makes the difference.—Look along the line—to the +right—see! <i>Jack’s</i> down! well,—’tis worth a regiment +of horse to him.—No—’tis <i>Dick</i>. Then <i>Jack’s</i> no +worse.—Never mind which,—we pass on,—in hot pursuit +the wound itself which brings him is not felt,—the best way is to +stand up to him,—the man who flies, is in ten times more danger +than the man who marches up into his jaws.—I’ve look’d him, added +the corporal, an hundred times in the face,—and know what he +is.—He’s nothing, <i>Obadiah</i>, at all in the field.—But +he’s very frightful in a house, quoth +<i>Obadiah</i>.——I never mind it myself, said +<i>Jonathan</i>, upon a coach-box.—It must, in my opinion, be most +natural in bed, replied <i>Susannah</i>.—And could I escape him by +creeping into the worst calf’s skin that ever was made into a knapsack, +I would do it there—said <i>Trim</i>—but that is +nature.</p> + +<p>——Nature is nature, said <i>Jonathan</i>.—And that +is the reason, cried <i>Susannah</i>, I so much pity my +mistress.—She will never get the better of it.—Now I pity +the captain the most of any one in the family, answered +<i>Trim</i>.——Madam will get ease of heart in +weeping,—and the Squire in talking about it,—but my poor +master will keep it all in silence to himself,—I shall hear +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page269" id = "page269">269</a></span> +him sigh in his bed for a whole month together, as he did for lieutenant +<i>Le Fever</i>.—An’ please your honour, do not sigh so piteously, +I would say to him as I laid besides him. I cannot help it, +<i>Trim</i>, my master would say,——’tis so melancholy an +accident—I cannot get it off my heart.—Your honour +fears not death yourself.—I hope, <i>Trim</i>, I fear +nothing, he would say, but the doing a wrong thing.——Well, +he would add, whatever betides, I will take care of <i>Le +Fever’s</i> boy.—And with that, like a quieting draught, his +honour would fall asleep.</p> + +<p>I like to hear <i>Trim’s</i> stories about the captain, said +<i>Susannah</i>.—He is a kindly-hearted gentleman, said +<i>Obadiah</i>, as ever lived.—Aye, and as brave a one too, said +the corporal, as ever stept before a platoon.—There never was a +better officer in the king’s army,—or a better man in God’s world; +for he would march up to the mouth of a cannon, though he saw the +lighted match at the very touch-hole,—and yet, for all that, he +has a heart as soft as a child for other people.——He would +not hurt a chicken.——I would sooner, quoth +<i>Jonathan</i>, drive such a gentleman for seven pounds a +year—than some for eight.—Thank thee, <i>Jonathan!</i> for +thy twenty shillings,—as much, <i>Jonathan</i>, said the corporal, +shaking him by the hand, as if thou hadst put the money into my own +pocket.——I would serve him to the day of my death out +of love. He is a friend and a brother to me,—and could I be sure +my poor brother <i>Tom</i> was dead,—continued the corporal, +taking out his handkerchief,—was I worth ten thousand pounds, +I would leave every shilling of it to the +captain.——<i>Trim</i> could not refrain from tears at this +testamentary proof he gave of his affection to his +master.——The whole kitchen was affected.—Do tell us +the story of the poor lieutenant, said +<i>Susannah</i>.——With all my heart, answered the +corporal.</p> + +<p><i>Susannah</i>, the cook, <i>Jonathan</i>, <i>Obadiah</i>, and +corporal <i>Trim</i>, formed a circle about the fire; and as soon as the +scullion had shut the kitchen door,—the corporal begun.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXI" id = "bookV_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I am</span> a <i>Turk</i> if I had not as +much forgot my mother, as if Nature had plaistered me up, and set me +down naked upon the banks of the river <i>Nile</i>, without +one.——Your most obedient servant, Madam—I’ve cost you +a great deal of trouble,—I wish it may answer;—but you +have left a crack in my back,—and here’s a +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page270" id = "page270">270</a></span> +great piece fallen off here before,—and what must I do with this +foot?——I shall never reach <i>England</i> +with it.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I never wonder at any thing;—and so often has +my judgment deceived me in my life, that I always suspect it, right or +wrong,—at least I am seldom hot upon cold subjects. For all this, +I reverence truth as much as any body; and when it has slipped us, +if a man will but take me by the hand, and go quietly and search for it, +as for a thing we have both lost, and can neither of us do well +without,—I’ll go to the world’s end with him:——But I +hate disputes,—and therefore (bating religious points, or such as +touch society) I would almost subscribe to any thing which does not +choak me in the first passage, rather than be drawn into +one.——But I cannot bear suffocation,——and bad +smells worst of all.——For which reasons, I resolved +from the beginning, That if ever the army of martyrs was to be +augmented,—or a new one raised,—I would have no hand in +it, one way or t’other.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXII" id = "bookV_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">But</span> to return to my +mother.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +My uncle <i>Toby’s</i> opinion, Madam, “that there could be no harm in +<i>Cornelius Gallus</i>, the <i>Roman</i> prætor’s lying with his +wife;”——or rather the last word of that opinion,—(for +it was all my mother heard of it) caught hold of her by the weak +part of the whole sex:——You shall not mistake +me,—I mean her curiosity,—she instantly concluded +herself the subject of the conversation, and with that prepossession +upon her fancy, you will readily conceive every word my father said, was +accommodated either to herself, or her family concerns.</p> + +<p>——Pray, Madam, in what street does the lady live, who +would not have done the same?</p> + +<p>From the strange mode of <i>Cornelius’s</i> death, my father had made +a transition to that of <i>Socrates</i>, and was giving my uncle +<i>Toby</i> an abstract of his pleading before his +judges;——’twas irresistible:——not the oration of +<i>Socrates</i>,—but my father’s temptation to it.——He +had wrote the Life of <i>Socrates</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_5_1" +id = "tag_5_1" href = "#note_5_1">1</a> himself the year before he left +off trade, which, I fear, was the means of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page271" id = "page271">271</a></span> +hastening him out of it;——so that no one was able to set out +with so full a sail, and in so swelling a tide of heroic loftiness upon +the occasion, as my father was. Not a period in <i>Socrates’s</i> +oration, which closed with a shorter word than <i>transmigration</i>, or +<i>annihilation</i>,—or a worse thought in the middle of it than +<i>to be—or not to be</i>,—the entering upon a new and +untried state of things,—or, upon a long, a profound and +peaceful sleep, without dreams, without +disturbance?——<i>That we and our children were born to +die,—but neither of us born to be +slaves</i>.——No—there I mistake; that was part of +<i>Eleazer’s</i> oration, as recorded by <i>Josephus</i> +(<i>de Bell. Judaic.</i>)——<i>Eleazer</i> owns he had +it from the philosophers of <i>India</i>; in all likelihood +<i>Alexander</i> the Great, in his irruption into <i>India</i>, after he +had over-run <i>Persia</i>, amongst the many things he +stole,—stole that sentiment also; by which means it was carried, +if not all the way by himself (for we all know he died at +<i>Babylon</i>), at least by some of his maroders, into +<i>Greece</i>,—from <i>Greece</i> it got to +<i>Rome</i>,—from <i>Rome</i> to <i>France</i>,—and from +<i>France</i> to <i>England</i>:——So things come <span class += "locked">round.——</span></p> + +<p>By land carriage, I can conceive no other way.——</p> + +<p>By water the sentiment might easily have come down the <i>Ganges</i> +into the <i>Sinus Gangeticus</i>, or <i>Bay of Bengal</i>, and so into +the <i>Indian Sea</i>; and following the course of trade (the way from +<i>India</i> by the <i>Cape of Good Hope</i> being then unknown), might +be carried with other drugs and spices up the <i>Red Sea</i> to +<i>Joddah</i>, the port of <i>Mekka</i>, or else to <i>Tor</i> or +<i>Sues</i>, towns at the bottom of the gulf; and from thence by +karrawans to <i>Coptos</i>, but three days’ journey distant, so down the +<i>Nile</i> directly to <i>Alexandria</i>, where the <span class = +"smallroman">SENTIMENT</span> would be landed at the very foot of the +great stair-case of the <i>Alexandrian</i> library,——and +from that store-house it would be fetched.———Bless me! +what a trade was driven by the learned in those days!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXIII" id = "bookV_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">Now</span> my father had a +way, a little like that of <i>Job’s</i> (in case there ever was +such a man——if not, there’s an end of the <span class = +"locked">matter.——</span></p> + +<p>Though, by the bye, because your learned men find some difficulty in +fixing the precise æra in which so great a man lived;—whether, for +instance, before or after the patriarchs, &c.——to vote, +therefore, that he never lived <i>at all</i>, is a little +cruel,—’tis not doing as they would be done by,—happen that +as it +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page272" id = "page272">272</a></span> +may)——My father, I say, had a way, when things went +extremely wrong with him, especially upon the first sally of his +impatience,—of wondering why he was begot,—wishing himself +dead;—sometimes worse:——And when the provocation ran +high, and grief touched his lips with more than ordinary +powers—Sir, you scarce could have distinguished him from +<i>Socrates</i> himself.——Every word would breathe the +sentiments of a soul disdaining life, and careless about all its issues; +for which reason, though my mother was a woman of no deep reading, yet +the abstract of <i>Socrates’s</i> oration, which my father was giving my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, was not altogether new to her.—She listened to +it with composed intelligence, and would have done so to the end of the +chapter, had not my father plunged (which he had no occasion to have +done) into that part of the pleading where the great philosopher reckons +up his connections, his alliances, and children; but renounces a +security to be so won by working upon the passions of his +judges.—“I have friends—I have +relations,—I have three desolate children,”—says <span +class = "locked"><i>Socrates</i>.—</span></p> + +<p>——Then, cried my mother, opening the +door,——you have one more, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, than I +know of.</p> + +<p>By heaven! I have one less,—said my father, getting up and +walking out of the room.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXIV" id = "bookV_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p>——They are <i>Socrates’s</i> children, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>. He has been dead a hundred years ago, replied my +mother.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> was no chronologer—so not caring to +advance one step but upon safe ground, he laid down his pipe +deliberately upon the table, and rising up, and taking my mother most +kindly by the hand, without saying another word, either good or bad, to +her, he led her out after my father, that he might finish the +ecclaircissement himself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXV" id = "bookV_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Had</span> this volume been a farce, which, +unless every one’s life and opinions are to be looked upon as a farce as +well as mine, I see no reason to suppose—the last chapter, +Sir, had finished the first act of it, and then this chapter must have +set off thus.</p> + +<p>Ptr..r..r..ing—twing—twang—prut—trut——’tis +a cursed bad +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page273" id = "page273">273</a></span> +fiddle.—Do you know whether my fiddle’s in tune or +no?—trut..prut..—They should be +<i>fifths</i>.——’Tis wickedly +strung—tr...a.e.i.o.u.-twang.—The bridge is a mile too high, +and the sound post absolutely down,—else—trut . . +prut—hark! ’tis not so bad a tone.—Diddle diddle, diddle +diddle, diddle diddle, dum. There is nothing in playing before good +judges,—but there’s a man there—no—not him with the +bundle under his arm—the grave man in black.—’Sdeath! not +the gentleman with the sword on.—Sir, I had rather play a +<i>Caprichio</i> to <i>Calliope</i> herself, than draw my bow across my +fiddle before that very man; and yet I’ll stake my <i>Cremona</i> to a +<i>Jew’s</i> trump, which is the greatest musical odds that ever were +laid, that I will this moment stop three hundred and fifty leagues out +of tune upon my fiddle, without punishing one single nerve that belongs +to him—Twaddle diddle, tweddle diddle,—twiddle +diddle,——twoddle diddle,—twuddle +diddle,——prut +trut—krish—krash—krush.—I’ve undone you, +Sir,—but you see he’s no worse,—and was <i>Apollo</i> to +take his fiddle after me, he can make him no better.</p> + +<p>Diddle diddle, diddle diddle, diddle +diddle—hum—dum—drum.</p> + +<p>—Your worships and your reverences love music—and God has +made you all with good ears—and some of you play delightfully +yourselves—trut-prut,—prut-trut.</p> + +<p>O! there is—whom I could sit and hear whole days,—whose +talents lie in making what he fiddles to be felt,—who inspires me +with his joys and hopes, and puts the most hidden springs of my heart +into motion.—If you would borrow five guineas of me, +Sir,—which is generally ten guineas more than I have to +spare—or you Messrs. Apothecary and Taylor, want your bills +paying,—that’s your time.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXVI" id = "bookV_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> first thing which entered my +father’s head, after affairs were a little settled in the family, and +<i>Susannah</i> had got possession of my mother’s green sattin +night-gown,—was to sit down coolly, after the example of +<i>Xenophon</i>, and write a <span class = +"smallcaps">Tristra</span>-pædia, or system of education for me; +collecting first for that purpose his own scattered thoughts, counsels, +and notions; and binding them together, so as to form an <span class = +"smallroman">INSTITUTE</span> for the government of my childhood and +adolescence. I was my father’s +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page274" id = "page274">274</a></span> +last stake—he had lost my brother <i>Bobby</i> entirely,—he +had lost, by his own computation, full three-fourths of me—that +is, he had been unfortunate in his three first great casts for +me—my geniture, nose, and name,—there was but this one left; +and accordingly my father gave himself up to it with as much devotion as +ever my uncle <i>Toby</i> had done to his doctrine of +projectils.—The difference between them was, that my uncle +<i>Toby</i> drew his whole knowledge of projectils from <i>Nicholas +Tartaglia</i>—My father spun his, every thread of it, out of his +own brain,—or reeled and cross-twisted what all other spinners and +spinsters had spun before him, that ’twas pretty near the same torture +to him.</p> + +<p>In about three years, or something more, my father had got advanced +almost into the middle of his work.—Like all other writers, he met +with disappointments.—He imagined he should be able to bring +whatever he had to say, into so small a compass, that when it was +finished and bound, it might be rolled up in my mother’s +hussive.—Matter grows under our hands.—Let no man +say,—“Come—I’ll write a duodecimo.”</p> + +<p>My father gave himself up to it, however, with the most painful +diligence, proceeding step by step in every line, with the same kind of +caution and circumspection (though I cannot say upon quite so religious +a principle) as was used by <i>John de la Casse</i>, the lord archbishop +of <i>Benevento</i>, in compassing his <i>Galatea</i>; in which his +Grace of <i>Benevento</i> spent near forty years of his life; and when +the thing came out, it was not of above half the size or the thickness +of a <i>Rider’s</i> Almanack.—How the holy man managed the affair, +unless he spent the greatest part of his time in combing his whiskers, +or playing at <i>primero</i> with his chaplain,—would pose any +mortal not let into the true secret;—and therefore ’tis worth +explaining to the world, was it only for the encouragement of those few +in it, who write not so much to be fed—as to be famous.</p> + +<p>I own had <i>John de la Casse</i>, the archbishop of +<i>Benevento</i>, for whose memory (notwithstanding his <i>Galatea</i>) +I retain the highest veneration,—had he been, Sir, +a slender clerk—of dull wit—slow parts—costive +head, and so forth,—he and his <i>Galatea</i> might have jogged on +together to the age of <i>Methuselah</i> for me,—the phænomenon +had not been worth a <span class = +"locked">parenthesis.—</span></p> + +<p>But the reverse of this was the truth: <i>John de la Casse</i> was a +genius of fine parts and fertile fancy; and yet with all these +advantages of nature, which should have pricked him forwards with his +<i>Galatea</i>, he lay under an impuissance at the same time +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page275" id = "page275">275</a></span> +of advancing above a line and a half in the compass of a whole summer’s +day: this disability in his Grace arose from an opinion he was afflicted +with,—which opinion was this,—<i>viz.</i> that whenever a +Christian was writing a book (not for his private amusement, but) where +his intent and purpose was, <i>bonâ fide</i>, to print and publish it to +the world, his first thoughts were always the temptations of the evil +one.—This was the state of ordinary writers: but when a personage +of venerable character and high station, either in church or state, once +turned author,—he maintained, that from the very moment he took +pen in hand—all the devils in hell broke out of their holes to +cajole him.—’Twas Term-time with them,—every thought, first +and last, was captious;—how specious and good soever,—’twas +all one;—in whatever form or colour it presented itself to the +imagination,—’twas still a stroke of one or other of ’em levell’d +at him, and was to be fenced off.—So that the life of a writer, +whatever he might fancy to the contrary, was not so much a state of +<i>composition</i>, as a state of <i>warfare</i>; and his probation in +it, precisely that of any other man militant upon earth,—both +depending alike, not half so much upon the degrees of his <span class = +"smallroman">WIT</span>—as his <span class = +"smallroman">RESISTANCE</span>.</p> + +<p>My father was hugely pleased with this theory of <i>John de la +Casse</i>, archbishop of <i>Benevento</i>; and (had it not cramped him a +little in his creed) I believe would have given ten of the best +acres in the <i>Shandy</i> estate, to have been the broacher of +it.—How far my father actually believed in the devil, will be +seen, when I come to speak of my father’s religious notions, in the +progress of this work: ’tis enough to say here, as he could not have the +honour of it, in the literal sense of the doctrine—he took up with +the allegory of it; and would often say, especially when his pen was a +little retrograde, there was as much good meaning, truth, and knowledge, +couched under the veil of <i>John de la Casse’s</i> parabolical +representation,—as was to be found in any one poetic fiction or +mystic record of antiquity.—Prejudice of education, he would say, +<i>is the devil</i>,—and the multitudes of them which we suck in +with our mother’s milk—<i>are the devil and +all</i>.——We are haunted with them, brother <i>Toby</i>, in +all our lucubrations and researches; and was a man fool enough to submit +tamely to what they obtruded upon him,—what would his book be? +Nothing,—he would add, throwing his pen away with a +vengeance,—nothing but a farrago of the clack of nurses, and of +the nonsense of the old women (of both sexes) throughout the +kingdom.</p> + +<p>This is the best account I am determined to give of the slow +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page276" id = "page276">276</a></span> +progress my father made in his <i>Tristra-pædia</i>; at which (as I +said) he was three years, and something more, indefatigably at work, +and, at last, had scarce completed, by his own reckoning, one half of +his undertaking: the misfortune was, that I was all that time totally +neglected and abandoned to my mother: and what was almost as bad, by the +very delay, the first part of the work, upon which my father had spent +the most of his pains, was rendered entirely useless,——every +day a page or two became of no <span class = +"locked">consequence.——</span></p> + +<p>——Certainly it was ordained as a scourge upon the pride +of human wisdom, That the wisest of us all should thus outwit ourselves, +and eternally forego our purposes, in the intemperate act of pursuing +them.</p> + +<p>In short, my father was so long in all his acts of +resistance,—or in other words,—he advanced so very slow with +his work, and I began to live and get forwards at such a rate, that if +an event had not happened,——which, when we get to it, if it +can be told with decency, shall not be concealed a moment from the +reader——I verily believe, I had put by my father, +and left him drawing a sun-dial, for no better purpose than to be buried +underground.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXVII" id = "bookV_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">’Twas</span> nothing,—I +did not lose two drops of blood by it—— ——’twas +not worth calling in a surgeon, had he lived next door to +us——thousands suffer by choice, what I did by +accident.——Doctor <i>Slop</i> made ten times more of it, +than there was occasion:——some men rise, by the art of +hanging great weights upon small wires,—and I am this day +(<i>August</i> the 10th, 1761) paying part of the price of this man’s +reputation.——O ’twould provoke a stone, to see how things +are carried on in this world!——The chamber-maid had left no +******* *** under the bed:——Cannot you contrive, master, +quoth <i>Susannah</i>, lifting up the sash with one hand, as she spoke, +and helping me up into the window-seat with the other,—cannot you +manage, my dear, for a single time, to **** *** ** *** ******?</p> + +<p>I was five years old.——<i>Susannah</i> did not consider +that nothing was well hung in our family,——so slap came the +sash down like lightning upon us;—Nothing is left,—cried +<i>Susannah</i>,—nothing is left—for me, but to run my <span +class = "locked">country.——</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house was a much kinder sanctuary; and so +<i>Susannah</i> fled to it.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page277" id = "page277">277</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXVIII" id = "bookV_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> <i>Susannah</i> told the +corporal the misadventure of the sash, with all the circumstances which +attended the <i>murder</i> of me,—(as she +called it)—the blood forsook his cheeks,—all +accessaries in murder being principals,—<i>Trim’s</i> conscience +told him he was as much to blame as <i>Susannah</i>,—and if the +doctrine had been true, my uncle <i>Toby</i> had as much of the +bloodshed to answer for to heaven, as either of ’em;—so that +neither reason or instinct, separate or together, could possibly have +guided <i>Susannah’s</i> steps to so proper an asylum. It is in vain to +leave this to the Reader’s imagination:—to form any kind of +hypothesis that will render these propositions feasible, he must cudgel +his brains sore,—and to do it without,—he must have such +brains as no reader ever had before him.——Why should I put +them either to trial or to torture? ’Tis my own affair: I’ll explain it +myself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXIX" id = "bookV_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">’Tis</span> a pity, <i>Trim</i>, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, resting with his hand upon the corporal’s shoulder, +as they both stood surveying their works,—that we have not a +couple of field-pieces to mount in the gorge of that new +redoubt;——’twould secure the lines all along there, and make +the attack on that side quite complete:——get me a couple +cast, <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>Your honour shall have them, replied <i>Trim</i>, before to-morrow +morning.</p> + +<p>It was the joy of <i>Trim’s</i> heart,—nor was his fertile head +ever at a loss for expedients in doing it, to supply my uncle +<i>Toby</i> in his campaigns, with whatever his fancy called for; had it +been his last crown, he would have sate down and hammered it into a +paderero, to have prevented a single wish in his Master. The corporal +had already,—what with cutting off the ends of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> spouts—hacking and chiseling up the sides of his +leaden gutters,—melting down his pewter shaving-bason,—and +going at last, like <i>Lewis</i> the Fourteenth, on to the top of the +church, for spare ends, &c.——he had that very campaign +brought no less than eight new battering cannons, besides three +demi-culverins, into the field; my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> demand for two +more pieces for the redoubt, had set the corporal at work again; and no +better resource offering, he had taken the two leaden +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page278" id = "page278">278</a></span> +weights from the nursery window: and as the sash pullies, when the lead +was gone, were of no kind of use, he had taken them away also, to make a +couple of wheels for one of their carriages.</p> + +<p>He had dismantled every sash-window in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house +long before, in the very same way,—though not always in the same +order; for sometimes the pullies have been wanted, and not the +lead,—so then he began with the pullies,—and the pullies +being picked out, then the lead became useless,—and so the lead +went to pot too.</p> + +<p>——A great <span class = "smallroman">MORAL</span> might +be picked handsomely out of this, but I have not time—’tis enough +to say, wherever the demolition began, ’twas equally fatal to the sash +window.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXX" id = "bookV_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> corporal had not taken his +measures so badly in this stroke of artilleryship, but that he might +have kept the matter entirely to himself, and left <i>Susannah</i> to +have sustained the whole weight of the attack, as she could;—true +courage is not content with coming off so.——The corporal, +whether as general or comptroller of the train,—’twas no +matter,——had done that, without which, as he imagined, the +misfortune could never have happened,—<i>at least in</i> +Susannah’s <i>hands</i>;——How would your honours have +behaved?——He determined at once, not to take shelter behind +<i>Susannah</i>,—but to give it; and with this resolution upon his +mind, he marched upright into the parlour, to lay the whole +<i>manœuvre</i> before my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> had just then been giving <i>Yorick</i> an +account of the battle of <i>Steenkirk</i>, and of the strange conduct of +count <i>Solmes</i> in ordering the foot to halt, and the horse to march +where it could not act; which was directly contrary to the king’s +commands, and proved the loss of the day.</p> + +<p>There are incidents in some families so pat to the purpose of what is +going to follow,—they are scarce exceeded by the invention of a +dramatic writer;—I mean of ancient <span class = +"locked">days.———</span></p> + +<p><i>Trim</i>, by the help of his forefinger, laid flat upon the table, +and the edge of his hand striking across it at right angles, made a +shift to tell his story so, that priests and virgins might have listened +to it;—and the story being told,—the dialogue went on as +follows.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page279" id = "page279">279</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXI" id = "bookV_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p>——I would be picquetted to death, cried the corporal, as +he concluded <i>Susannah’s</i> story, before I would suffer the woman to +come to any harm,—’twas my fault, an’ please your +honour,—not hers.</p> + +<p>Corporal <i>Trim</i>, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, putting on his +hat which lay upon the table,——if anything can be said to be +a fault, when the service absolutely requires it should be +done,—’tis I certainly who deserve the blame,——you +obeyed your orders.</p> + +<p>Had count <i>Solmes</i>, <i>Trim</i>, done the same at the battle of +<i>Steenkirk</i>, said <i>Yorick</i>, drolling a little upon the +corporal, who had been run over by a dragoon in the +retreat,——he had saved thee;——Saved! cried +<i>Trim</i>, interrupting <i>Yorick</i>, and finishing the sentence for +him after his own fashion,——he had saved five battalions, +an’ please your reverence, every soul of them:——there was +<i>Cutts’s</i>—continued the corporal, clapping the forefinger of +his right hand upon the thumb of his left, and counting round his +hand,——there was +<i>Cutts’s</i>,——<i>Mackay’s</i>,——<i>Angus’s</i>,——<i>Graham’s</i>,——and +<i>Leven’s</i>, all cut to pieces;——and so had the +<i>English</i> life-guards too, had it not been for some regiments upon +the right, who marched up boldly to their relief, and received the +enemy’s fire in their faces, before any one of their own platoons +discharged a musket,——they’ll go to heaven for +it,—added <i>Trim</i>.—<i>Trim</i> is right, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, nodding to <i>Yorick</i>,——he’s perfectly +right. What signified his marching the horse, continued the corporal, +where the ground was so straight, that the <i>French</i> had such a +nation of hedges, and copses, and ditches, and fell’d trees laid this +way and that to cover them; (as they always +have).——Count <i>Solmes</i> should have sent +us,——we would have fired muzzle to muzzle with them for +their lives.——There was nothing to be done for the +horse:——he had his foot shot off however for his pains, +continued the corporal, the very next campaign at +<i>Landen</i>.—Poor <i>Trim</i> got his wound there, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.——’Twas owing, an’ please your honour, +entirely to count <i>Solmes</i>,——had he drubb’d them +soundly at <i>Steenkirk</i>, they would not have fought us at +<i>Landen</i>.——Possibly not,——<i>Trim</i>, said +my uncle <i>Toby</i>;——though if they have the advantage of +a wood, or you give them a moment’s time to intrench themselves, they +are a +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page280" id = "page280">280</a></span> +nation which will pop and pop for ever at you.——There is no +way but to march coolly up to them,——receive their fire, and +fall in upon them, pell-mell——Ding dong, added +<i>Trim</i>.——Horse and foot, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——Helter skelter, said +<i>Trim</i>.——Right and left, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.——Blood an’ ounds, shouted the +corporal;——the battle raged,——<i>Yorick</i> drew +his chair a little to one side for safety, and after a moment’s pause, +my uncle <i>Toby</i> sinking his voice a note,—resumed the +discourse as follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXII" id = "bookV_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">King</span> <i>William</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, addressing himself to <i>Yorick</i>, was so terribly +provoked at count <i>Solmes</i> for disobeying his orders, that he would +not suffer him to come into his presence for many months +after.——I fear, answered <i>Yorick</i>, the squire will +be as much provoked at the corporal, as the King at the +count.——But ’twould be singularly hard in this case, +continued he, if corporal <i>Trim</i>, who has behaved so diametrically +opposite to count <i>Solmes</i>, should have the fate to be rewarded +with the same disgrace:——too oft in this world, do things +take that train.——I would spring a mine, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, rising up,——and blow up my fortifications, and +my house with them, and we would perish under their ruins, ere I would +stand by and see it.——<i>Trim</i> directed a +slight,——but a grateful bow towards his +master,——and so the chapter ends.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXIII" id = "bookV_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——Then, <i>Yorick</i>, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, you +and I will lead the way abreast,——and do you, corporal, +follow a few paces behind us.——And <i>Susannah</i>, an’ +please your honour, said <i>Trim</i>, shall be put in the +rear.——’Twas an excellent disposition,—and in this +order, without either drums beating, or colours flying, they marched +slowly from my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house to <i>Shandy-hall</i>.</p> + +<p>——I wish, said <i>Trim</i>, as they entered the +door,—instead of the sash weights, I had cut off the church +spout, as I once thought to have done.—You have cut off spouts +enow, replied <span class = +"locked"><i>Yorick</i>.——</span></p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page281" id = "page281">281</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXIV" id = "bookV_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> many pictures as have been given +of my father, how like him soever in different airs and +attitudes,—not one, or all of them, can ever help the reader to +any kind of preconception of how my father would think, speak, or act, +upon any untried occasion or occurrence of life.—There was that +infinitude of oddities in him, and of chances along with it, by which +handle he would take a thing,—it baffled, Sir, all +calculations.——The truth was, his road lay so very far on +one side, from that wherein most men travelled,—that every object +before him presented a face and section of itself to his eye, altogether +different from the plan and elevation of it seen by the rest of +mankind.—In other words, ’twas a different object, and in course +was differently considered:</p> + +<p>This is the true reason, that my dear <i>Jenny</i> and I, as well as +all the world besides us, have such eternal squabbles about +nothing.—She looks at her outside,—I, at her in—. How +is it possible we should agree about her value?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXV" id = "bookV_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">’Tis</span> a point settled,—and I +mention it for the comfort of <i>Confucius</i>,<a class = "tag" name = +"tag_5_2" id = "tag_5_2" href = "#note_5_2">2</a> who is apt to get +entangled in telling a plain story—that provided he keeps along +the line of his story,—he may go backwards and forwards as he +will,—’tis still held to be no digression.</p> + +<p>This being premised, I take the benefit of the <i>act of going +backwards</i> myself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXVI" id = "bookV_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Fifty</span> thousand pannier loads of +devils—(not of the Archbishop of +<i>Benevento’s</i>,—I mean of <i>Rabelais’s</i> devils) with +their tails chopped off by their rumps, could not have made so +diabolical a scream of it, as I did—when the accident befel me: it +summoned up my mother instantly into the nursery,—so that +<i>Susannah</i> had but just time to make her escape down the back +stairs, as my mother came up the fore.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page282" id = "page282">282</a></span> +<p>Now, though I was old enough to have told the story myself,—and +young enough, I hope, to have done it without malignity; yet +<i>Susannah</i>, in passing by the kitchen, for fear of accidents, had +left it in shorthand with the cook—the cook had told it with a +commentary to <i>Jonathan</i>, and <i>Jonathan</i> to <i>Obadiah</i>; so +that by the time my father had rung the bell half a dozen times, to know +what was the matter above,—was <i>Obadiah</i> enabled to give him +a particular account of it, just as it had +happened.—I thought as much, said my father, tucking up his +night-gown;—and so walked up stairs.</p> + +<p>One would imagine from this——(though for my own part I +somewhat question it)—that my father, before that time, had +actually wrote that remarkable character in the <i>Tristra-pædia</i>, +which to me is the most original and entertaining one in the whole +book;—and that is the <i>chapter upon sash-windows</i>, with a +bitter <i>Philippick</i> at the end of it, upon the forgetfulness of +chamber-maids.—I have but two reasons for thinking +otherwise.</p> + +<p>First, Had the matter been taken into consideration, before the event +happened, my father certainly would have nailed up the sash window for +good an’ all;—which, considering with what difficulty he composed +books,—he might have done with ten times less trouble, than he +could have wrote the chapter: this argument I foresee holds good against +his writing a chapter, even after the event; but ’tis obviated under the +second reason, which I have the honour to offer to the world in support +of my opinion, that my father did not write the chapter upon +sash-windows and chamber-pots, at the time supposed,—and it is +this.</p> + +<p>——That, in order to render the <i>Tristra-pædia</i> +complete,—I wrote the chapter myself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXVII" id = "bookV_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father put on his +spectacles—looked,—took them off,—put them into the +case—all in less than a statutable minute; and without opening his +lips, turned about and walked precipitately down stairs: my mother +imagined he had stepped down for lint and basilicon; but seeing him +return with a couple of folios under his arm, and <i>Obadiah</i> +following him with a large reading-desk, she took it for granted ’twas +an herbal, and so drew him a chair to the bedside, that he might consult +upon the case at his ease.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page283" id = "page283">283</a></span> +<p>——If it be but right done,—said my father, turning +to the <i>Section—de sede vel subjecto +circumcisionis</i>,——for he had brought up <i>Spenser de +Legibus Hebræorum Ritualibus</i>—and <i>Maimonides</i>, in order +to confront and examine us <span class = +"locked">altogether.—</span></p> + +<p>——If it be but right done, quoth he:—only tell us, +cried my mother, interrupting him, what herbs?——For that, +replied my father, you must send for Dr. <i>Slop</i>.</p> + +<p>My mother went down, and my father went on, reading the section as +follows,</p> + +<p><span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * *<br /> +* * * * * * * * *<br /> +* * * </span>* ———Very well,—said my +father,<br /> +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * *<br /> +* * * * * * * * *</span><br /> +<span class = "space35">* </span>*   —nay, if it has that +convenience——and so without stopping a moment to settle it +first in his mind, whether the <i>Jews</i> had it from the +<i>Egyptians</i>, or the <i>Egyptians</i> from the <i>Jews</i>,—he +rose up, and rubbing his forehead two or three times across with the +palm of his hand, in the manner we rub out the footsteps of care, when +evil has trod lighter upon us than we foreboded,—he shut the book, +and walked down stairs.—Nay, said he, mentioning the name of a +different great nation upon every step as he set his foot upon +it—if the <span class = "smallcaps">Egyptians</span>,—the +<span class = "smallcaps">Syrians</span>,—the <span class = +"smallcaps">Phoenicians</span>,—the <span class = +"smallcaps">Arabians</span>,—the <span class = +"smallcaps">Cappadocians</span>,——if the <span class = +"smallcaps">Colchi</span>, and <span class = +"smallcaps">Troglodytes</span> did it——if <span class = +"smallcaps">Solon</span> and <span class = "smallcaps">Pythagoras</span> +submitted,—what is <span class = +"smallcaps">Tristram</span>?——Who am I, that I should fret +or fume one moment about the matter?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXVIII" id = "bookV_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Dear</span> <i>Yorick</i>, said my father, +smiling (for <i>Yorick</i> had broke his rank with my uncle <i>Toby</i> +in coming through the narrow entry, and so had stept first into the +parlour)—this <i>Tristram</i> of ours, I find, comes very +hardly by all his religious rites.—Never was the son of +<i>Jew</i>, <i>Christian</i>, <i>Turk</i>, or <i>Infidel</i> initiated +into them in so oblique and slovenly a manner.—But he is no worse, +I trust, said <i>Yorick</i>.—There has been certainly, +continued my father, the deuce and all to do in some part or other of +the ecliptic, when this offspring of mine was formed.—That, you +are a better judge of than I, replied <i>Yorick</i>.—Astrologers, +quoth my father, know better than us both:—the trine and sextil +aspects have jumped awry,—or the opposite of their ascendants +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page284" id = "page284">284</a></span> +have not hit it, as they should,—or the lords of the genitures +(as they call them) have been at <i>bo-peep</i>,—or something +has been wrong above, or below with us.</p> + +<p>’Tis possible, answered <i>Yorick</i>.—But is the child, cried +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, the worse?—The <i>Troglodytes</i> say not, +replied my father. And your theologists, <i>Yorick</i>, tell +us—Theologically? said <i>Yorick</i>,—or speaking after the +manner of apothecaries?<a class = "tag" name = "tag_5_3" id = "tag_5_3" +href = "#note_5_3">3</a>—statesmen?<a class = "tag" name = +"tag_5_4" id = "tag_5_4" href = "#note_5_4">4</a>—or +washer-women?<a class = "tag" name = "tag_5_5" id = "tag_5_5" href = +"#note_5_5">5</a></p> + +<p>——I’m not sure, replied my father,—but they tell +us, brother <i>Toby</i>, he’s the better for it.——Provided, +said <i>Yorick</i>, you travel him into <i>Egypt</i>.——Of +that, answered my father, he will have the advantage, when he sees the +<span class = "locked"><i>Pyramids</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>Now every word of this, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, is <i>Arabick</i> +to me.——I wish, said <i>Yorick</i>, ’twas so, to half +the world.</p> + +<p>——<span class = "smallcaps">Ilus</span>,<a class = "tag" +name = "tag_5_6" id = "tag_5_6" href = "#note_5_6">6</a> continued my +father, circumcised his whole army one morning.—Not without a +court martial? cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——Though the +learned, continued he, taking no notice of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +remark, but turning to <i>Yorick</i>,—are greatly divided still +who <i>Ilus</i> was;—some say <i>Saturn</i>;—some the +Supreme Being;—others, no more than a brigadier general under +<i>Pharaoh-neco</i>.——Let him be who he will, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, I know not by what article of war he could +justify it.</p> + +<p>The controvertists, answered my father, assign two-and-twenty +different reasons for it:—others, indeed, who have drawn their +pens on the opposite side of the question, have shewn the world the +futility of the greatest part of them.—But then again, our best +polemic divines—I wish there was not a polemic divine, said +<i>Yorick</i>, in the kingdom;—one ounce of practical +divinity—is worth a painted ship-load of all their reverences have +imported these fifty years.—Pray, Mr. <i>Yorick</i>, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>,—do tell me what a polemic divine +is?——The best description, captain <i>Shandy</i>, +I have ever read, is of a couple of ’em, replied <i>Yorick</i>, in +the account of the battle fought single hands betwixt <i>Gymnast</i> and +captain <i>Tripet</i>; which I have in my +pocket.——I beg I may hear it, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i> earnestly.—You shall, said <i>Yorick</i>.—And as +the corporal is waiting for me at the door,—and I know the +description of a battle will do the poor fellow more good than his +supper,—I beg, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page285" id = "page285">285</a></span> +brother, you’ll give him leave to come in.—With all my soul, said +my father.——<i>Trim</i> came in, erect and happy as an +emperor; and having shut the door, <i>Yorick</i> took a book from his +right-hand coat-pocket, and read, or pretended to read, as follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXIX" id = "bookV_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p>——“which words being heard by all the soldiers which were +there, divers of them being inwardly terrified, did shrink back and make +room for the assailant: all this did <i>Gymnast</i> very well remark and +consider; and therefore, making as if he would have alighted from off +his horse, as he was poising himself on the mounting side, he most +nimbly (with his short sword by his thigh) shifting his feet in the +stirrup, and performing the stirrup-leather feat, whereby, after the +inclining of his body downwards, he forthwith launched himself aloft +into the air, and placed both his feet together upon the saddle, +standing upright, with his back turned towards his horse’s +head,—Now (said he) my case goes forward. Then suddenly in +the same posture wherein he was, he fetched a gambol upon one foot, and +turning to the left-hand, failed not to carry his body perfectly round, +just into his former position, without missing one jot.——Ha! +said <i>Tripet</i>, I will not do that at this time,—and not +without cause. Well, said <i>Gymnast</i>, I have +failed,—I will undo this leap; then with a marvellous +strength and agility, turning towards the right-hand, he fetched another +frisking gambol as before; which done, he set his right-hand thumb upon +the bow of the saddle, raised himself up, and sprung into the air, +poising and upholding his whole weight upon the muscle and nerve of the +said thumb, and so turned and whirled himself about three times: at the +fourth, reversing his body, and overturning it upside down, and foreside +back, without <i>touching anything</i>, he brought himself betwixt the +horse’s two ears, and then giving himself a jerking swing, he seated +himself upon the crupper——”</p> + +<p>(This can’t be fighting, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——The +corporal shook his head at it.——Have patience, said +<i>Yorick</i>.)</p> + +<p>“Then (<i>Tripet</i>) pass’d his right leg over his saddle, and +placed himself <i>en croup</i>.—But, said he, ’twere better for me +to get into the saddle; then putting the thumbs of both hands upon the +crupper before him, and thereupon leaning himself, as upon the only +supporters of his body, he incontinently turned heels over head in the +air, and strait found himself betwixt the bow of the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page286" id = "page286">286</a></span> +saddle in a tolerable seat; then springing into the air with a +summerset, he turned him about like a wind-mill, and made above a +hundred frisks, turns, and demi-pommadas.”—Good God! cried +<i>Trim</i>, losing all patience,—one home thrust of a bayonet is +worth it all.——I think so too, replied <span class = +"locked"><i>Yorick</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>I am of a contrary opinion, quoth my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXX" id = "bookV_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">No</span>,—I think I +have advanced nothing, replied my father, making answer to a question +which <i>Yorick</i> had taken the liberty to put to +him,—I have advanced nothing in the <i>Tristra-pædia</i>, but +what is as clear as any one proposition in <i>Euclid</i>.—Reach +me, <i>Trim</i>, that book from off the scrutoir:——it has +oft-times been in my mind, continued my father, to have read it over +both to you, <i>Yorick</i>, and to my brother <i>Toby</i>, and I think +it a little unfriendly in myself, in not having done it long +ago:——shall we have a short chapter or two now,—and a +chapter or two hereafter, as occasions serve; and so on, till we get +through the whole? My uncle <i>Toby</i> and <i>Yorick</i> made the +obeisance which was proper; and the corporal, though he was not included +in the compliment, laid his hand upon his breast, and made his bow at +the same time.——The company smiled. <i>Trim</i>, quoth my +father, has paid the full price for staying out the +<i>entertainment</i>.——He did not seem to relish the play, +replied <i>Yorick</i>.——’Twas a Tom-fool-battle, an’ please +your reverence, of captain <i>Tripet’s</i> and that other officer, +making so many summersets, as they advanced;——the +<i>French</i> come on capering now and then in that way,—but not +quite so much.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> never felt the consciousness of his existence +with more complacency than what the corporal’s, and his own reflections, +made him do at that moment;——he lighted his +pipe,——<i>Yorick</i> drew his chair closer to the +table,—<i>Trim</i> snuff’d the candle,—my father stirr’d up +the fire,—took up the book,—cough’d twice, and begun.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXI" id = "bookV_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> first thirty pages, said my +father, turning over the leaves,—are a little dry; and as they are +not closely connected with the subject,——for the present +we’ll pass them by: ’tis a prefatory +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page287" id = "page287">287</a></span> +introduction, continued my father, or an introductory preface (for I am +not determined which name to give it) upon political or civil +government; the foundation of which being laid in the first conjunction +betwixt male and female, for procreation of the +species——I was insensibly led into +it.——’Twas natural, said <i>Yorick</i>.</p> + +<p>The original of society, continued my father, I’m satisfied is, what +<i>Politian</i> tells us, <i>i.e.</i>, merely conjugal; and nothing more +than the getting together of one man and one woman;—to which, +(according to <i>Hesiod</i>) the philosopher adds a +servant:——but supposing in the first beginning there were no +men servants born——he lays the foundation of it, in a +man,—a woman—and a bull.——I believe +’tis an ox, quoth <i>Yorick</i>, quoting the passage (<span class = +"greek" title = "oikon men prôtista, gunaika te, boun t’ arotêra">οἶκον +μὲν πρώτιστα, <ins class = "correction" +title = "printed γυνᾶικα">γυναῖκα</ins> τε, βοῦν τ’ <ins class = "correction" title = +"printed ἀροτὴρα">ἀροτῆρα</ins></span>).——A bull must +have given more trouble than his head was worth.——But there +is a better reason still, said my father (dipping his pen into his ink); +for the ox being the most patient of animals, and the most useful withal +in tilling the ground for their nourishment,—was the properest +instrument, and emblem too, for the new joined couple, that the creation +could have associated with them.—And there is a stronger reason, +added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, than them all for the ox.—My father +had not power to take his pen out of his ink-horn, till he had heard my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> reason.—For when the ground was tilled, said +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and made worth inclosing, then they began to +secure it by walls and ditches, which was the origin of +fortification.——True, true, dear <i>Toby</i>, cried my +father, striking out the bull, and putting the ox in his place.</p> + +<p>My father gave <i>Trim</i> a nod, to snuff the candle, and resumed +his discourse.</p> + +<p>——I enter upon this speculation, said my father +carelessly, and half shutting the book, as he went on, merely to shew +the foundation of the natural relation between a father and his child; +the right and jurisdiction over whom he acquires these several <span +class = "locked">ways—</span></p> + +<p>1st, by marriage.</p> + +<p>2d, by adoption.</p> + +<p>3d, by legitimation.</p> + +<p>And 4th, by procreation; all which I consider in their order.</p> + +<p>I lay a slight stress upon one of them, replied +<i>Yorick</i>——the act, especially where it ends there, in +my opinion lays as little obligation upon the child, as it conveys power +to the father.—You +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page288" id = "page288">288</a></span> +are wrong,—said my father argutely, and for this plain reason +<span class = "space35"> +* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</span> +—I own, added my father, that the offspring, upon this +account, is not so under the power and jurisdiction of the +mother.—But the reason, replied <i>Yorick</i>, equally holds good +for her.——She is under authority herself, said my +father:—and besides, continued my father, nodding his head, and +laying his finger upon the side of his nose, as he assigned his +reason,—<i>she is not the principal agent,</i> Yorick.—In +what, quoth my uncle <i>Toby?</i> stopping his pipe.—Though by all +means, added my father (not attending to my uncle <i>Toby</i>) “<i>The +son ought to pay her respect</i>,” as you may read, <i>Yorick</i>, at +large in the first book of the Institutes of <i>Justinian</i>, at the +eleventh title and the tenth section,—I can read it as well, +replied <i>Yorick</i>, in the Catechism.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXII" id = "bookV_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Trim</span> can repeat every word of it by +heart, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—Pugh! said my father, not +caring to be interrupted with <i>Trim’s</i> saying his Catechism. He +can, upon my honour, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—Ask him, Mr. +<i>Yorick</i>, any question you <span class = +"locked">please.——</span></p> + +<p>—The fifth Commandment, <i>Trim</i>—said <i>Yorick</i>, +speaking mildly, and with a gentle nod, as to a modest Catechumen. The +corporal stood silent.—You don’t ask him right, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, raising his voice, and giving it rapidly like the word of +command:——The fifth————cried my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.—I must begin with the first, an’ please +your honour, said the <span class = +"locked">corporal.——</span></p> + +<p>—<i>Yorick</i> could not forbear smiling.—Your reverence +does not consider, said the corporal, shouldering his stick like a +musket, and marching into the middle of the room, to illustrate his +position,—that ’tis exactly the same thing, as doing one’s +exercise in the <span class = "locked">field.—</span></p> + +<p>“<i>Join your right-hand to your firelock</i>,” cried the corporal, +giving the word of command, and performing the <span class = +"locked">motion.—</span></p> + +<p>“<i>Poise your firelock</i>,” cried the corporal, doing the duty +still both of adjutant and private man.</p> + +<p>“<i>Rest your firelock</i>;”—one motion, an’ please your +reverence, you see leads into another.—If his honour will begin +but with the <span class = "locked"><i>first</i>—</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page289" id = "page289">289</a></span> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">The first</span>—cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, setting his hand upon his side— +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</span></p> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">The second</span>—cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, waving his tobacco-pipe, as he would have done his sword at +the head of a regiment.—The corporal went through his +<i>manual</i> with exactness! and having <i>honoured his father and +mother</i>, made a low bow, and fell back to the side of the room.</p> + +<p>Everything in this world, said my father, is big with jest,—and +has wit in it, and instruction too,—if we can but find it out.</p> + +<p>—Here is the <i>scaffold work</i> of <span class = +"smallcaps">Instruction</span>, its true point of folly, without the +<span class = "smallroman">BUILDING</span> behind it.</p> + +<p>—Here is the glass for pedagogues, preceptors, tutors, +governors, gerund-grinders, and bear-leaders, to view themselves in, in +their true <span class = "locked">dimensions.—</span></p> + +<p>Oh! there is a husk and shell, <i>Yorick</i>, which grows up with +learning, which their unskilfulness knows not how to fling away!</p> + +<p>—<span class = "smallcaps">Sciences may be learned by rote, but +Wisdom not.</span></p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i> thought my father inspired.—I will enter into +obligations this moment, said my father, to lay out all my aunt +<i>Dinah’s</i> legacy in charitable uses (of which, by the bye, my +father had no high opinion), if the corporal has any one determinate +idea annexed to any one word he has repeated.—Prythee, +<i>Trim</i>, quoth my father, turning round to him,—What dost thou +mean, by “<i>honouring thy father and mother?</i>”</p> + +<p>Allowing them, an’ please your honour, three half-pence a day out of +my pay, when they grow old.—And didst thou do that, <i>Trim?</i> +said <i>Yorick</i>.—He did indeed, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.—Then, <i>Trim</i>, said <i>Yorick</i>, springing out +of his chair, and taking the corporal by the hand, thou art the best +commentator upon that part of the <i>Decalogue</i>; and I honour thee +more for it, corporal <i>Trim</i>, than if thou hadst had a hand in the +<i>Talmud</i> itself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXIII" id = "bookV_chapXXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">O blessed</span> health! cried my father, +making an exclamation, as he turned over the leaves to the next chapter, +thou art above all gold and treasure; ’tis thou who enlargest the +soul,—and openest all its powers to receive instruction and to +relish virtue.—He that has thee, has little more to wish +for;—and he that is so wretched as to want thee,—wants +everything with thee.</p> + +<p>I have concentrated all that can be said upon this important +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page290" id = "page290">290</a></span> +head, said my father, into a very little room, therefore we’ll read the +chapter quite through.</p> + +<p>My father read as follows:</p> + +<p>“The whole secret of health depending upon the due contention for +mastery betwixt the radical heat and the radical moisture”—You +have proved that matter of fact, I suppose, above, said +<i>Yorick</i>. Sufficiently, replied my father.</p> + +<p>In saying this, my father shut the book,—not as if he resolved +to read no more of it, for he kept his forefinger in the +chapter:——nor pettishly,—for he shut the book slowly; +his thumb resting, when he had done it, upon the upper-side of the +cover, as his three fingers supported the lower side of it, without the +least compressive <span class = +"locked">violence.——</span></p> + +<p>I have demonstrated the truth of that point, quoth my father, nodding +to <i>Yorick</i>, most sufficiently in the preceding chapter.</p> + +<p>Now could the man in the moon be told, that a man in the earth had +wrote a chapter, sufficiently demonstrating, That the secret of all +health depended upon the due contention for mastery betwixt the +<i>radical heat</i> and the <i>radical moisture</i>,—and that he +had managed the point so well, that there was not one single word wet or +dry upon radical heat or radical moisture, throughout the whole +chapter,—or a single syllable in it, <i>pro</i> or <i>con</i>, +directly or indirectly, upon the contention betwixt these two powers in +any part of the animal <span class = +"locked">œconomy——</span></p> + +<p>“O thou eternal Maker of all beings!”—he would cry, striking +his breast with his right hand (in case he had one)—“Thou +whose power and goodness can enlarge the faculties of thy creatures to +this infinite degree of excellence and perfection,—What have we +<span class = "smallcaps">Moonites</span> done?”</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXIV" id = "bookV_chapXXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">With</span> two strokes, the one at +<i>Hippocrates</i>, the other at Lord <i>Verulam</i>, did my father +achieve it.</p> + +<p>The stroke at the prince of physicians, with which he began, was no +more than a short insult upon his sorrowful complaint of the <i>Ars +longa</i>,—and <i>Vita brevis</i>.——Life short, cried +my father,—and the art of healing tedious! And who are we to thank +for both the one and the other, but the ignorance of quacks +themselves,—and the stage-loads of chymical nostrums, and +peripatetic lumber, with which, in all ages, they have first flatter’d +the world, and at last deceived it?</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page291" id = "page291">291</a></span> +<p>——O my lord <i>Verulam!</i> cried my father, turning from +<i>Hippocrates</i>, and making his second stroke at him, as the +principal of nostrum-mongers, and the fittest to be made an example of +to the rest,——What shall I say to thee, my great lord +<i>Verulam?</i> What shall I say to thy internal spirit,—thy +opium,—thy salt-petre,——thy greasy unctions,—thy +daily purges,—thy nightly clysters, and succedaneums?</p> + +<p>——My father was never at a loss what to say to any man, +upon any subject; and had the least occasion for the exordium of any man +breathing: how he dealt with his lordship’s opinion,——you +shall see;——but when—I know not;——we +must first see what his lordship’s opinion was.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXV" id = "bookV_chapXXXV"> +CHAPTER XXXV</a></h4> + + +<p>“<span class = "firstword">The</span> two great causes, which +conspire with each other to shorten life, says lord <i>Verulam</i>, are +<span class = "locked">first——</span></p> + +<p>“The internal spirit, which, like a gentle flame, wastes the body +down to death:—And secondly, the external air, that parches the +body up to ashes:—which two enemies attacking us on both sides of +our bodies together, at length destroy our organs, and render them unfit +to carry on the functions of life.”</p> + +<p>This being the state of the case, the road to Longevity was plain; +nothing more being required, says his lordship, but to repair the waste +committed by the internal spirit, by making the substance of it more +thick and dense, by a regular course of opiates on one side, and by +refrigerating the heat of it on the other, by three grains and a half of +salt-petre every morning before you got <span class = +"locked">up.——</span></p> + +<p>Still this frame of ours was left exposed to the inimical assaults of +the air without;—but this was fenced off again by a course of +greasy unctions, which so fully saturated the pores of the skin, that no +spicula could enter;——nor could any one get +out.——This put a stop to all perspiration, sensible and +insensible, which being the cause of so many scurvy +distempers—a course of clysters was requisite to carry off +redundant humours,—and render the system complete.</p> + +<p>What my father had to say to my lord of <i>Verulam’s</i> opiates, his +salt-petre, and greasy unctions and clysters, you shall read,—but +not to-day—or to-morrow: time presses upon me,—my reader is +impatient—I must get forwards.——You shall read +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page292" id = "page292">292</a></span> +the chapter at your leisure (if you chuse it), as soon as ever +the <i>Tristra-pædia</i> is <span class = +"locked">published.——</span></p> + +<p>Sufficeth it at present, to say, my father levelled the hypothesis +with the ground, and in doing that, the learned know, he built up and +established his <span class = "locked">own.——</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXVI" id = "bookV_chapXXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> whole secret of health, said my +father, beginning the sentence again, depending evidently upon the due +contention betwixt the radical heat and radical moisture within +us;—the least imaginable skill had been sufficient to have +maintained it, had not the schoolmen confounded the talk, merely +(as <i>Van Helmont</i>, the famous chymist, has proved) by all +along mistaking the radical moisture for the tallow and fat of animal +bodies.</p> + +<p>Now the radical moisture is not the tallow or fat of animals, but an +oily and balsamous substance; for the fat and tallow, as also the phlegm +or watery parts, are cold; whereas the oily and balsamous parts are of a +lively heat and spirit, which accounts for the observation of +<i>Aristotle</i>, “<i>Quod omne animal post coitum est</i> triste.”</p> + +<p>Now it is certain, that the radical heat lives in the radical +moisture, but whether <i>vice versâ</i>, is a doubt: however, when the +one decays, the other decays also; and then is produced, either an +unnatural heat, which causes an unnatural dryness——or an +unnatural moisture, which causes dropsies.——So that if a +child, as he grows up, can but be taught to avoid running into fire or +water, as either of ’em threaten his destruction,——’twill be +all that is needful to be done upon that <span class = +"locked">head.——</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXVII" id = "bookV_chapXXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> description of the siege of +<i>Jericho</i> itself, could not have engaged the attention of my uncle +<i>Toby</i> more powerfully than the last chapter;—his eyes were +fixed upon my father throughout it;—he never mentioned radical +heat and radical moisture, but my uncle <i>Toby</i> took his pipe out of +his mouth, and shook his head; and as soon as the chapter was finished, +he beckoned to the corporal to come close to his chair, to ask him the +following question,—<i>aside</i>.—— +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span> +It was at the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page293" id = "page293">293</a></span> +siege of <i>Limerick</i>, an’ please your honour, replied the corporal, +making a bow.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow and I, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, addressing himself +to my father, were scarce able to crawl out of our tents, at the time +the siege of <i>Limerick</i> was raised, upon the very account you +mention.——Now what can have got into that precious noddle of +thine, my dear brother <i>Toby?</i> cried my father, +mentally.——By Heaven! continued he, communing still with +himself, it would puzzle an <i>Œdipus</i> to bring it in <span class = +"locked">point.——</span></p> + +<p>I believe, an’ please your honour, quoth the corporal, that if it had +not been for the quantity of brandy we set fire to every night, and the +claret and cinnamon with which I plyed your honour off;—And the +geneva, <i>Trim</i>, added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, which did us more good +than all——I verily believe, continued the corporal, we +had both, an’ please your honour, left our lives in the trenches, and +been buried in them too.——The noblest grave, corporal! cried +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, his eyes sparkling as he spoke, that a soldier +could wish to lie down in.——But a pitiful death for him! an’ +please your honour, replied the corporal.</p> + +<p>All this was as much <i>Arabick</i> to my father, as the rites of the +<i>Colchi</i> and <i>Troglodites</i> had been before to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; my father could not determine whether he was to frown or to +<span class = "locked">smile.——</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i>, turning to <i>Yorick</i>, resumed the case at +<ins class = "correction" +title = "printed in Roman (non-italic) type"><i>Limerick</i></ins>, more intelligibly than he had begun +it,—and so settled the point for my father at once.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXVIII" id = "bookV_chapXXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was undoubtedly, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, a great happiness for myself and the corporal, that we had +all along a burning fever, attended with a most raging thirst, during +the whole five-and-twenty days the flux was upon us in the camp; +otherwise what my brother calls the radical moisture, must, as I +conceive it, inevitably have got the better.——My father drew +in his lungs top-full of air, and looking up, blew it forth again, as +slowly as he possibly <span class = +"locked">could.——</span></p> + +<p>———It was Heaven’s mercy to us, continued my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, which put it into the corporal’s head to maintain that due +contention betwixt the radical heat and the radical moisture, by +reinforcing the fever, as he did all along, with hot wine and spices; +whereby the corporal kept up (as it were) a continual +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page294" id = "page294">294</a></span> +firing, so that the radical heat stood its ground from the beginning to +the end, and was a fair match for the moisture, terrible as it +was.——Upon my honour, added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, you might +have heard the contention within our bodies, brother <i>Shandy</i>, +twenty toises.—If there was no firing, said <i>Yorick</i>.</p> + +<p>Well—said my father, with a full aspiration, and pausing a +while after the word—Was I a judge, and the laws of the country +which made me one permitted it, I would condemn some of the worst +malefactors, provided they had had their +clergy———— ——<i>Yorick</i>, +foreseeing the sentence was likely to end with no sort of mercy, laid +his hand upon my father’s breast, and begged he would respite it for a +few minutes, till he asked the corporal a +question.——Prithee, <i>Trim</i>, said <i>Yorick</i>, without +staying for my father’s leave,—tell us honestly—what is thy +opinion concerning this self-same radical heat and radical moisture?</p> + +<p>With humble submission to his honour’s better judgment, quoth the +corporal, making a bow to my uncle <i>Toby</i>—Speak thy opinion +freely, corporal, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.—The poor fellow is my +servant,—not my slave,—added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, turning +to my <span class = "locked">father.——</span></p> + +<p>The corporal put his hat under his left arm, and with his stick +hanging upon the wrist of it, by a black thong split into a tassel about +the knot, he marched up to the ground where he had performed his +catechism; then touching his under-jaw with the thumb and fingers of his +right-hand before he opened his mouth,——he delivered his +notion thus.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXXXIX" id = "bookV_chapXXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Just</span> as the corporal was humming, to +begin—in waddled Dr. <i>Slop</i>.—’Tis not two-pence +matter—the corporal shall go on in the next chapter, let who will +come <span class = "locked">in.——</span></p> + +<p>Well, my good doctor, cried my father sportively, for the transitions +of his passions were unaccountably sudden,—and what has this whelp +of mine to say to the matter?</p> + +<p>Had my father been asking after the amputation of the tail of a +puppy-dog—he could not have done it in a more careless air: the +system which Dr. <i>Slop</i> had laid down, to treat the accident by, no +way allowed of such a mode of enquiry.—He sat down.</p> + +<p>Pray, Sir, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in a manner which could +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page295" id = "page295">295</a></span> +not go unanswered,—in what condition is the boy?—’Twill end +in a <i>phimosis</i>, replied Dr. <i>Slop</i>.</p> + +<p>I am no wiser than I was, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>—returning +his pipe into his mouth.——Then let the corporal go on, said +my father, with his medical lecture.—The corporal made a bow to +his old friend, Dr. <i>Slop</i>, and then delivered his opinion +concerning radical heat and radical moisture, in the following +words.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXL" id = "bookV_chapXL"> +CHAPTER XL</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> city of <i>Limerick</i>, the +siege of which was begun under his majesty king <i>William</i> himself, +the year after I went into the army—lies, an’ please your honours, +in the middle of a devilish wet, swampy country.—’Tis quite +surrounded, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, with the <i>Shannon</i>, and is, +by its situation, one of the strongest fortified places in <span class = +"locked"><i>Ireland</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>I think this is a new fashion, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, of beginning a +medical lecture.—’Tis all true, answered <i>Trim</i>.—Then I +wish the faculty would follow the cut of it, said +<i>Yorick</i>.—’Tis all cut through, an’ please your reverence, +said the corporal, with drains and bogs; and besides, there was such a +quantity of rain fell during the siege, the whole country was like a +puddle,—’twas that, and nothing else, which brought on the flux, +and which had like to have killed both his honour and myself; now there +was no such thing, after the first ten days, continued the corporal, for +a soldier to lie dry in his tent, without cutting a ditch round it, to +draw off the water;—nor was that enough, for those who could +afford it, as his honour could, without setting fire every night to a +pewter dish full of brandy, which took off the damp of the air, and made +the inside of the tent as warm as a <span class = +"locked">stove.———</span></p> + +<p>And what conclusion dost thou draw, corporal <i>Trim</i>, cried my +father, from all these premises?</p> + +<p>I infer, an’ please your worship, replied <i>Trim</i>, that the +radical moisture is nothing in the world but ditch-water—and that +the radical heat, of those who can go to the expence of it, is burnt +brandy,—the radical heat and moisture of a private man, an’ please +your honour, is nothing but ditch-water—and a dram of +geneva——and give us but enough of it, with a pipe of +tobacco, to give us spirits, and drive away the vapours—we know +not what it is to fear death.</p> + +<p>I am at a loss, Captain <i>Shandy</i>, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, to +determine +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page296" id = "page296">296</a></span> +in which branch of learning your servant shines most, whether in +physiology or divinity.—<i>Slop</i> had not forgot <i>Trim’s</i> +comment upon the <span class = "locked">sermon.—</span></p> + +<p>It is but an hour ago, replied <i>Yorick</i>, since the corporal was +examined in the latter, and pass’d muster with great <span class = +"locked">honour.——</span></p> + +<p>The radical heat and moisture, quoth Dr. <i>Slop</i>, turning to my +father, you must know, is the basis and foundation of our being—as +the root of a tree is the source and principle of its +vegetation.—It is inherent in the seeds of all animals, and may be +preserved sundry ways, but principally in my opinion by +<i>consubstantials</i>, <i>impriments</i>, and +<i>occludents</i>.——Now this poor fellow, continued Dr. +<i>Slop</i>, pointing to the corporal, has had the misfortune to have +heard some superficial empiric discourse upon this nice +point.——That he has,—said my father.——Very +likely, said my uncle.—I’m sure of it—quoth <span class = +"locked"><i>Yorick</i>.——</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXLI" id = "bookV_chapXLI"> +CHAPTER XLI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Doctor</span> <i>Slop</i> being called out +to look at a cataplasm he had ordered, it gave my father an opportunity +of going on with another chapter in the +<i>Tristra-pædia</i>.——Come! cheer up, my lads; I’ll shew +you land———for when we have tugged through that +chapter, the book shall not be opened again this <span class = +"locked">twelve-month.—Huzza!—</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXLII" id = "bookV_chapXLII"> +CHAPTER XLII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">Five</span> years with a bib +under his chin;</p> + +<p>Four years in travelling from Christ-cross-row to <i>Malachi</i>;</p> + +<p>A year and a half in learning to write his own name;</p> + +<p>Seven long years and more <span class = "greek" title = +"tuptô">τυπτω</span>-ing it, at Greek and Latin;</p> + +<p>Four years at his <i>probations</i> and his +<i>negations</i>—the fine statue still lying in the middle of the +marble block,—and nothing done, but his tools sharpened to hew it +out!—’Tis a piteous delay!—Was not the great <i>Julius +Scaliger</i> within an ace of never getting his tools sharpened at +all?———Forty-four years old was he before he could +manage his Greek;—and <i>Peter Damianus</i>, lord bishop of +<i>Ostia</i>, as all the world knows, could not so much as read, when he +was of man’s estate.—And <i>Baldus</i> himself, as eminent as he +turned out after, entered upon the law so late in life, that everybody +imagined he intended to be an advocate in +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page297" id = "page297">297</a></span> +the other world: no wonder, when <i>Eudamidas</i>, the son of +<i>Archidamas</i>, heard <i>Xenocrates</i> at seventy-five disputing +about <i>wisdom</i>, that he asked gravely,—<i>If the old man be +yet disputing and enquiring concerning wisdom,—what time will he +have to make use of it?</i></p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i> listened to my father with great attention; there was a +seasoning of wisdom unaccountably mixed up with his strangest whims, and +he had sometimes such illuminations in the darkest of his eclipses, as +almost atoned for them:—be wary, Sir, when you imitate him.</p> + +<p>I am convinced, <i>Yorick</i>, continued my father, half reading and +half discoursing, that there is a North-west passage to the intellectual +world; and that the soul of man has shorter ways of going to work, in +furnishing itself with knowledge and instruction, than we generally take +with it.——But, alack! all fields have not a river or a +spring running besides them;—every child, <i>Yorick</i>, has not a +parent to point it out.</p> + +<p>——The whole entirely depends, added my father, in a low +voice, upon the <i>auxiliary verbs</i>, Mr. <i>Yorick</i>.</p> + +<p>Had <i>Yorick</i> trod upon <i>Virgil’s</i> snake, he could not have +looked more surprised.—I am surprised too, cried my father, +observing it,—and I reckon it as one of the greatest calamities +which ever befel the republic of letters, That those who have been +entrusted with the education of our children, and whose business it was +to open their minds, and stock them early with ideas, in order to set +the imagination loose upon them, have made so little use of the +auxiliary verbs in doing it, as they have done——So that, +except <i>Raymond Lullius</i>, and the elder <i>Pelegrini</i>, the last +of which arrived to such perfection in the use of ’em, with his topics, +that, in a few lessons, he could teach a young gentleman to discourse +with plausibility upon any subject, <i>pro</i> and <i>con</i>, and to +say and write all that could be spoken or written concerning it, without +blotting a word, to the admiration of all who beheld +him.—I should be glad, said <i>Yorick</i>, interrupting my +father, to be made to comprehend this matter. You shall, said my +father.</p> + +<p>The highest stretch of improvement a single word is capable of, is a +high metaphor,——for which, in my opinion, the idea is +generally the worse, and not the better;——but be that as it +may,—when the mind has done that with it—there is an +end,—the mind and the idea are at rest,—until a second idea +enters;——and so on.</p> + +<p>Now the use of the <i>Auxiliaries</i> is, at once to set the soul +a-going +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page298" id = "page298">298</a></span> +by herself upon the materials as they are brought her; and by the +versability of this great engine, round which they are twisted, to open +new tracts of enquiry, and make every idea engender millions.</p> + +<p>You excite my curiosity greatly, said <i>Yorick</i>.</p> + +<p>For my own part, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I have given it +up.——The <i>Danes</i>, an’ please your honour, quoth the +corporal, who were on the left at the siege of <i>Limerick</i>, were all +auxiliaries.——And very good ones, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.—But the auxiliaries, <i>Trim</i>, my brother is +talking about,—I conceive to be different <span class = +"locked">things.——</span></p> + +<p>——You do? said my father, rising up.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookV_chapXLIII" id = "bookV_chapXLIII"> +CHAPTER XLIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father took a single turn across +the room, then sat down, and finished the chapter.</p> + +<p>The verbs auxiliary we are concerned in here, continued my father, +are, <i>am</i>; <i>was</i>; <i>have</i>; <i>had</i>; <i>do</i>; +<i>did</i>; <i>make</i>; <i>made</i>; <i>suffer</i>; <i>shall</i>; +<i>should</i>; <i>will</i>; <i>would</i>; <i>can</i>; <i>could</i>; +<i>owe</i>; <i>ought</i>; <i>used</i>; or <i>is wont</i>.—And +these varied with tenses, <i>present</i>, <i>past</i>, <i>future</i>, +and conjugated with the verb <i>see</i>,—or with these questions +added to them;—<i>Is it? Was it? Will it be? Would it be? May it +be? Might it be?</i> And these again put negatively, <i>Is it not? Was +it not? Ought it not?</i>—Or affirmatively,—<i>It is</i>; +<i>It was</i>; <i>It ought to be</i>. Or chronologically,—<i>Has +it been always? Lately? How long ago?</i>—Or +hypothetically,—<i>If it was? If it was not?</i> What would +follow?——If the <i>French</i> should beat the +<i>English?</i> If the <i>Sun</i> go out of the <i>Zodiac?</i></p> + +<p>Now, by the right use and application of these, continued my father, +in which a child’s memory should be exercised, there is no one idea can +enter his brain, how barren soever, but a magazine of conceptions and +conclusions may be drawn forth from it.——Didst thou ever see +a white bear? cried my father, turning his head round to <i>Trim</i>, +who stood at the back of his chair:—No, an’ please your honour, +replied the corporal.——But thou couldst discourse about one, +<i>Trim</i>, said my father, in case of need?—How is it possible, +brother, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, if the corporal never saw +one?——’Tis the fact I want, replied my father,—and the +possibility of it is as follows.</p> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">A white bear!</span> Very well. Have I ever +seen one? Might +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page299" id = "page299">299</a></span> +I ever have seen one? Am I ever to see one? Ought I ever to have seen +one? Or can I ever see one?</p> + +<p>Would I had seen a white bear! (for how can I imagine it?)</p> + +<p>If I should see a white bear, what would I say? If I should never see +a white bear, what then?</p> + +<p>If I never have, can, must, or shall see a white bear alive; have I +ever seen the skin of one? Did I ever see one painted?—described? +Have I never dreamed of one?</p> + +<p>Did my father, mother, uncle, aunt, brothers or sisters, ever see a +white bear? What would they give? How would they behave? How would the +white bear have behaved? Is he wild? Tame? Terrible? Rough? Smooth?</p> + +<p>—Is the white bear worth seeing?—</p> + +<p>—Is there no sin in it?—</p> + +<p>Is it better than a <span class = "smallroman">BLACK ONE</span>?</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_5_1" id = "note_5_1" href = "#tag_5_1">1.</a> +This book my father would never consent to publish; ’tis in manuscript, +with some other tracts of his, in the family, all, or most of which will +be printed in due time.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_5_2" id = "note_5_2" href = "#tag_5_2">2.</a> +Mr. <i>Shandy</i> is supposed to mean ******** *** Esq.; member for +******, ——and not the <i>Chinese</i> Legislator.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_5_3" id = "note_5_3" href = "#tag_5_3">3.</a> +<span class = "greek" +title = "Chalepês nosou, kai dusiatou apallagên, hên anthraka kalousin.">Χαλεπῆς νόσου, καὶ δυσιάτου <ins class = +"correction" title = "printed ἀπαλλαγὴ [apallagê]">ἀπαλλαγὴν</ins>, ἣν +ἄνθρακα καλοῦσιν.</span>—<span class = +"smallcaps">Philo</span>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_5_4" id = "note_5_4" href = "#tag_5_4">4.</a> +<span class = "greek" +title = "Ta temnomena tôn ethnôn polugonôtata, kai poluanthrôpotata einai.">Τὰ τεμνόμενα τῶν ἐθνῶν τολυγονώτατα, καὶ +πολυανθρωπότατα εἶναι.</span></p> + +<p><a name = "note_5_5" id = "note_5_5" href = "#tag_5_5">5.</a> +<span class = "greek" title = "Kathariotêtos heineken.">Καθαριότητος +εἵνεκεν.</span>—<span class = "smallcaps">Bochart</span>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_5_6" id = "note_5_6" href = "#tag_5_6">6.</a> +<span class = "greek" +title = "Ho Ilos, ta aidoia peritemnetai, tauto poiêsai kai tous ham’ autô summachous katanankasas.">Ὁ Ἶλος, τὰ αἰδοῖα +περιτέμνεται, ταὐτὸ ποιῆσαι καὶ τοὺς ἅμ’ αυτῷ συμμάχους +καταναγκάσας.</span>—<span class = +"smallcaps">Sanchuniatho.</span></p> + +<p class = "mynote"> +Note 6 as printed: Ὁ Ιλος, τὰ ἀιδοῖα περιτέμνεται, τἀυτὸ ποῖησαι καὶ +τοὺς ἅμ’ αυτῷ συμμὰχους καταναγκάσας. The errors in the diacritics do +not affect the transliteration.</p> + +</div> + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page300" id = "page300">300</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookVI" id = "bookVI">BOOK VI</a></h3> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapI" id = "bookVI_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">We</span>’ll not stop two +moments, my dear Sir,—only, as we have got through these five +volumes,<a class = "tag" name = "tag_6_1" id = "tag_6_1" href = +"#note_6_1">1</a> (do, Sir, sit down upon a set——they +are better than nothing) let us just look back upon the country we have +pass’d <span class = "locked">through.——</span></p> + +<p>——What a wilderness has it been! and what a mercy that we +have not both of us been lost, or devoured by wild beasts +in it!</p> + +<p>Did you think the world itself, Sir, had contained such a number of +Jack Asses?——How they view’d and review’d us as we passed +over the rivulet at the bottom of that little valley!——and +when we climbed over that hill, and were just getting out of +sight—good God! what a braying did they all set up together!</p> + +<p>——Prithee, shepherd! who keeps all those Jack Asses? * * +*</p> + +<p>——Heaven be their comforter——What! are they +never curried?——Are they never taken in in +winter?——Bray bray—bray. Bray on,—the world is +deeply your debtor;——louder still—that’s +nothing:—in good sooth, you are ill-used:——Was I a +Jack Asse, I solemnly declare, I would bray in G-fol-re-ut +from morning, even unto night.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapII" id = "bookVI_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> my father had danced his white +bear backwards and forwards through half a dozen pages, he closed the +book for good an’ all,—and in a kind of triumph redelivered it +into <i>Trim’s</i> hand, with a nod to lay it upon the ’scrutoire, where +he found it.——<i>Tristram</i>, said he, shall be made to +conjugate every word in the dictionary, backwards and forwards the same +way;——every word, <i>Yorick</i>, by this means, you see, is +converted into a thesis or an hypothesis;—every thesis and +hypothesis have an offspring of propositions;—and each proposition +has its own consequences +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page301" id = "page301">301</a></span> +and conclusions; every one of which leads the mind on again, into fresh +tracks of enquiries and doubtings.——The force of this +engine, added my father, is incredible in opening a child’s +head.——’Tis enough, brother <i>Shandy</i>, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, to burst it into a thousand <span class = +"locked">splinters.——</span></p> + +<p>I presume, said <i>Yorick</i>, smiling,—it must be owing to +this,——(for let logicians say what they will, it is not to +be accounted for sufficiently from the bare use of the ten +predicaments)——That the famous <i>Vincent Quirino</i>, +amongst the many other astonishing feats of his childhood, of which the +Cardinal <i>Bembo</i> has given the world so exact a story,—should +be able to paste up in the public schools at <i>Rome</i>, so early as in +the eighth year of his age, no less than four thousand five hundred and +fifty different theses, upon the most abstruse points of the most +abstruse theology;—and to defend and maintain them in such sort, +as to cramp and dumbfound his opponents.——What is that, +cried my father, to what is told us of <i>Alphonsus Tostatus</i>, who, +almost in his nurse’s arms, learned all the sciences and liberal arts +without being taught any one of them?——What shall we say of +the great <i>Piereskius?</i>—That’s the very man, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, I once told you of, brother <i>Shandy</i>, who walked +a matter of five hundred miles, reckoning from <i>Paris</i> to +<i>Shevling</i>, and from <i>Shevling</i> back again, merely to see +<i>Stevinus’s</i> flying chariot.——He was a very great man! +added my uncle <i>Toby</i> (meaning <i>Stevinus</i>)—He was so, +brother <i>Toby</i>, said my father (meaning +<i>Piereskius</i>)——and had multiplied his ideas so fast, +and increased his knowledge to such a prodigious stock, that, if we may +give credit to an anecdote concerning him, which we cannot withhold +here, without shaking the authority of all anecdotes whatever—at +seven years of age, his father committed entirely to his care the +education of his younger brother, a boy of five years +old,—with the sole management of all his concerns.—Was the +father as wise as the son? quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>:—I should think not, said +<i>Yorick</i>:—But what are these, continued my +father—(breaking out in a kind of enthusiasm)—what are +these, to those prodigies of childhood in <i>Grotius</i>, +<i>Scioppius</i>, <i>Heinsius</i>, <i>Politian</i>, <i>Pascal</i>, +<i>Joseph Scaliger</i>, <i>Ferdinand de Cordouè</i>, and +others—some of which left off their <i>substantial forms</i> at +nine years old, or sooner, and went on reasoning without +them;—others went through their classics at seven;—wrote +tragedies at eight;—<i>Ferdinand de Cordouè</i> was so wise at +nine,—’twas thought the Devil was in him;—and at +<i>Venice</i> gave such proofs of his knowledge and goodness, that the +monks imagined he +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page302" id = "page302">302</a></span> +was <i>Antichrist</i>, or nothing.——Others were masters of +fourteen languages at ten,—finished the course of their rhetoric, +poetry, logic, and ethics, at eleven,—put forth their commentaries +upon <i>Servius</i> and <i>Martianus Capella</i> at twelve,—and at +thirteen received their degrees in philosophy, laws, and +divinity:——But you forget the great <i>Lipsius</i>, quoth +<i>Yorick</i>, who composed a work<a class = "tag" name = "tag_6_2" id = +"tag_6_2" href = "#note_6_2">2</a> the day he was +born:——They should have wiped it up, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, and said no more about it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapIII" id = "bookVI_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> the cataplasm was ready, a +scruple of <i>decorum</i> had unseasonably rose up in <i>Susannah’s</i> +conscience about holding the candle, whilst <i>Slop</i> tied it on; +<i>Slop</i> had not treated <i>Susannah’s</i> distemper with +anodynes,—and so a quarrel had ensued betwixt them.</p> + +<p>——Oh! oh!——said <i>Slop</i>, casting a glance +of undue freedom in <i>Susannah’s</i> face, as she declined the +office;——then, I think I know you, +madam——You know me, Sir! cried <i>Susannah</i> fastidiously, +and with a toss of her head, levelled evidently, not at his profession, +but at the doctor himself,——you know me! cried +<i>Susannah</i> again.——Doctor <i>Slop</i> clapped his +finger and his thumb instantly upon his +nostrils;——<i>Susannah’s</i> spleen was ready to burst at +it;——’Tis false, said <i>Susannah</i>.—Come, come, +Mrs. Modesty, said <i>Slop</i>, not a little elated with the success of +his last thrust,——If you won’t hold the candle, and +look—you may hold it and shut your eyes:—That’s one of your +popish shifts, cried <i>Susannah</i>:—’Tis better, said +<i>Slop</i>, with a nod, than no shift at all, young +woman;——I defy you, Sir, cried <i>Susannah</i>, pulling +her shift sleeve below her elbow.</p> + +<p>It was almost impossible for two persons to assist each other in a +surgical case with a more splenetic cordiality.</p> + +<p><i>Slop</i> snatched up the cataplasm,——<i>Susannah</i> +snatched up the candle;——a little this way, said +<i>Slop</i>; <i>Susannah</i> looking one way, and rowing another, +instantly set fire to <i>Slop’s</i> wig, which being somewhat bushy and +unctuous withal, was burnt out +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page303" id = "page303">303</a></span> +before it was well kindled.———You impudent whore! +cried <i>Slop</i>,—(for what is passion, but a wild +beast?)—you impudent whore, cried <i>Slop</i>, getting upright, +with the cataplasm in his hand;——I never was the +destruction of anybody’s nose, said <i>Susannah</i>,—which is more +than you can say:——Is it? cried <i>Slop</i>, throwing the +cataplasm in her face;——Yes, it is, cried <i>Susannah</i>, +returning the compliment with what was left in the pan.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapIV" id = "bookVI_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Doctor</span> <i>Slop</i> and +<i>Susannah</i> filed cross-bills against each other in the parlour; +which done, as the cataplasm had failed, they retired into the kitchen +to prepare a fomentation for me;—and whilst that was doing, my +father determined the point as you will read.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapV" id = "bookVI_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">You</span> see ’tis high time, said my +father, addressing himself equally to my uncle <i>Toby</i> and +<i>Yorick</i>, to take this young creature out of these women’s hands, +and put him into those of a private governor. <i>Marcus Antoninus</i> +provided fourteen governors all at once to superintend his son +<i>Commodus’s</i> education,—and in six weeks he cashiered five of +them;—I know very well, continued my father, that +<i>Commodus’s</i> mother was in love with a gladiator at the time of her +conception, which accounts for a great many of <i>Commodus’s</i> +cruelties when he became emperor;—but still I am of opinion, that +those five whom <i>Antoninus</i> dismissed, did <i>Commodus’s</i> +temper, in that short time, more hurt than the other nine were able to +rectify all their lives long.</p> + +<p>Now as I consider the person who is to be about my son, as the mirror +in which he is to view himself from morning to night, and by which he is +to adjust his looks, his carriage, and perhaps the inmost sentiments of +his heart;—I would have one, <i>Yorick</i>, if possible, +polished at all points, fit for my child to look into.——This +is very good sense, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i> to himself.</p> + +<p>——There is, continued my father, a certain mien and +motion of the body and all its parts, both in acting and speaking, which +argues a man <i>well within</i>; and I am not at all surprised that +<i>Gregory</i> of <i>Nazianzum</i>, upon observing the hasty and +untoward gestures of <i>Julian</i>, should foretel he would one day +become an apostate;——or that St. <i>Ambrose</i> should turn +his <i>Amanuensis</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page304" id = "page304">304</a></span> +out of doors, because of an indecent motion of his head, which went +backwards and forwards like a flail;——or that +<i>Democritus</i> should conceive <i>Protagoras</i> to be a scholar, +from seeing him bind up a faggot, and thrusting, as he did it, the small +twigs inwards.——There are a thousand unnoticed openings, +continued my father, which let a penetrating eye at once into a man’s +soul; and I maintain it, added he, that a man of sense does not lay down +his hat in coming into a room,—or take it up in going out of it, +but something escapes, which discovers him.</p> + +<p>It is for these reasons, continued my father, that the governor I +make choice of shall neither<a class = "tag" name = "tag_6_3" id = +"tag_6_3" href = "#note_6_3">3</a> lisp, or squint, or wink, or talk +loud, or look fierce, or foolish;——or bite his lips, or +grind his teeth, or speak through his nose, or pick it, or blow it with +his <span class = "locked">fingers.——</span></p> + +<p>He shall neither walk fast,—or slow, or fold his +arms,—for that is laziness;—or hang them down,—for +that is folly; or hide them in his pocket, for that is <span class = +"locked">nonsense.——</span></p> + +<p>He shall neither strike, or pinch, or tickle,—or bite, or cut +his nails, or hawk, or spit, or snift, or drum with his feet or fingers +in company;——nor (according to <i>Erasmus</i>) shall he +speak to any one in making water,—nor shall he point to carrion or +excrement.——Now this is all nonsense again, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i> to <span class = "locked">himself.——</span></p> + +<p>I will have him, continued my father, chearful, faceté, jovial; at +the same time, prudent, attentive to business, vigilant, acute, argute, +inventive, quick in resolving doubts and speculative +questions;——he shall be wise, and judicious, and +learned:——And why not humble, and moderate, and +gentle-tempered, and good? said <i>Yorick</i>:——And why not, +cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, free, and generous, and bountiful, and +brave?——He shall, my dear <i>Toby</i>, replied my father, +getting up and shaking him by the hand.—Then, brother +<i>Shandy</i>, answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>, raising himself off the +chair, and laying down his pipe to take hold of my father’s other +hand,—I humbly beg I may recommend poor <i>Le Fever’s</i> son +to you;——a tear of joy of the first water sparkled in +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> eye, and another, the fellow to it, in the +corporal’s, as the proposition was made;——you will see why +when you read <i>Le Fever’s</i> story:——fool that I was! nor +can I recollect (nor perhaps you) without turning back to the place, +what it was that hindered me from letting the corporal tell it in his +own words;—but the occasion is lost,—I must tell it now +in my own.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page305" id = "page305">305</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapVI" id = "bookVI_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + +<h5><a name = "bookVI_lefever" id = "bookVI_lefever"> +THE STORY OF LE FEVER</a></h5> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was some time in the summer of +that year in which <i>Dendermond</i> was taken by the +allies,—which was about seven years before my father came into the +country,—and about as many, after the time, that my uncle +<i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i> had privately decamped from my father’s +house in town, in order to lay some of the finest sieges to some of the +finest fortified cities in <i>Europe</i>——when my uncle +<i>Toby</i> was one evening getting his supper, with <i>Trim</i> sitting +behind him at a small sideboard,—I say, sitting—for in +consideration of the corporal’s lame knee (which sometimes gave him +exquisite pain)—when my uncle <i>Toby</i> dined or supped alone, +he would never suffer the corporal to stand; and the poor fellow’s +veneration for his master was such, that, with a proper artillery, my +uncle <i>Toby</i> could have taken <i>Dendermond</i> itself, with less +trouble than he was able to gain this point over him; for many a time +when my uncle <i>Toby</i> supposed the corporal’s leg was at rest, he +would look back, and detect him standing behind him with the most +dutiful respect: this bred more little squabbles betwixt them, than all +other causes for five-and-twenty years together—But this is +neither here nor there—why do I mention it?——Ask my +pen,—it governs me,—I govern not it.</p> + +<p>He was one evening sitting thus at his supper, when the landlord of a +little inn in the village came into the parlour, with an empty phial in +his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack; ’Tis for a poor +gentleman,—I think, of the army, said the landlord, who has +been taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head +since, or had a desire to taste anything, till just now, that he has a +fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast,——<i>I think</i>, +says he, taking his hand from his forehead, <i>it would comfort +me</i>.</p> + +<p>——If I could neither beg, borrow, or buy such a +thing—added the landlord,—I would almost steal it for +the poor gentleman, he is so ill.——I hope in God he +will still mend, continued he,—we are all of us concerned for +him.</p> + +<p>Thou art a good-natured soul, I will answer for thee, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman’s health in a glass +of sack thyself,—and take a couple of bottles with my service, and +tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more if they +will do him good.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page306" id = "page306">306</a></span> +<p>Though I am persuaded, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, as the landlord +shut the door, he is a very compassionate +fellow—<i>Trim</i>,—yet I cannot help entertaining a high +opinion of his guest too; there must be something more than common in +him, that in so short a time should win so much upon the affections of +his host;——And of his whole family, added the corporal, for +they are all concerned for him.——Step after him, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>,—do, <i>Trim</i>,—and ask if he knows his +name.</p> + +<p>——I have quite forgot it truly, said the landlord, coming +back into the parlour with the corporal,—but I can ask his son +again:——Has he a son with him then? said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.—A boy, replied the landlord, of about eleven or +twelve years of age;—but the poor creature has tasted almost as +little as his father; he does nothing but mourn and lament for him night +and day:——He has not stirred from the bed-side these two +days.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his +plate from before him, as the landlord gave him the account; and +<i>Trim</i>, without being ordered, took away, without saying one word, +and in a few minutes after brought him his pipe and tobacco.</p> + +<p>——Stay in the room a little, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Trim!</i>——said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, after he lighted +his pipe, and smoak’d about a dozen whiffs.——<i>Trim</i> +came in front of his master, and made his bow;—my uncle +<i>Toby</i> smoak’d on, and said no more.——Corporal! said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>——the corporal made his +bow.——My uncle <i>Toby</i> proceeded no farther, but +finished his pipe.</p> + +<p><i>Trim!</i> said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I have a project in my head, +as it is a bad night, of wrapping myself up warm in my roquelaure, and +paying a visit to this poor gentleman.——Your honour’s +roquelaure, replied the corporal, has not once been had on, since the +night before your honour received your wound, when we mounted guard in +the trenches before the gate of St. <i>Nicolas</i>;——and +besides, it is so cold and rainy a night, that what with the roquelaure, +and what with the weather, ’twill be enough to give your honour your +death, and bring on your honour’s torment in your groin. I fear so, +replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>; but I am not at rest in my mind, +<i>Trim</i>, since the account the landlord has given +me.——I wish I had not known so much of this +affair,—added my uncle <i>Toby</i>,—or that I had known more +of it:——How shall we manage it? Leave it, an’t please your +honour, to me, quoth the corporal;——I’ll take my hat and +stick and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page307" id = "page307">307</a></span> +go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring +your honour a full account in an hour.——Thou shalt go, +<i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and here’s a shilling for thee +to drink with his servant.——I shall get it all out of +him, said the corporal, shutting the door.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> filled his second pipe; and had it not been, +that he now and then wandered from the point, with considering whether +it was not full as well to have the curtain of the tenaille a straight +line, as a crooked one,—he might be said to have thought of +nothing else but poor <i>Le Fever</i> and his boy the whole time he +smoaked it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapVII" id = "bookVI_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + +<h5>THE STORY OF LE FEVER CONTINUED</h5> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was not till my uncle <i>Toby</i> +had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe, that corporal <i>Trim</i> +returned from the inn, and gave him the following account.</p> + +<p>I despaired, at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back +your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick +lieutenant—Is he in the army, then? said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——He is, said the corporal——And in +what regiment? said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——I’ll tell your +honour, replied the corporal, everything straight forwards, as I learnt +it.—Then, <i>Trim</i>, I’ll fill another pipe, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at +thy ease, <i>Trim</i>, in the window-seat, and begin thy story again. +The corporal made his old bow, which generally spoke as plain as a bow +could speak it—<i>Your honour is good</i>:——And having +done that, he sat down, as he was ordered,—and began the story to +my uncle <i>Toby</i> over again in pretty near the same words.</p> + +<p>I despaired at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back +any intelligence to your honour, about the lieutenant and his son; for +when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of +knowing everything which was proper to be asked,—That’s a right +distinction, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>—I was +answered, an’ please your honour, that he had no servant with +him;——that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, +upon finding himself unable to proceed (to join, I suppose, +the regiment), he had dismissed the morning after he came.—If I +get better, my dear, said he, as he gave his purse to his son to pay the +man,—we can hire horses from hence.——But +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page308" id = "page308">308</a></span> +alas! the poor gentleman will never get from hence, said the landlady to +me,—for I heard the death-watch all night long;——and +when he dies, the youth, his son, will certainly die with him, for he is +broken-hearted already.</p> + +<p>I was hearing this account, continued the corporal, when the youth +came into the kitchen, to order the thin toast the landlord spoke +of;——but I will do it for my father myself, said the +youth.——Pray let me save you the trouble, young gentleman, +said I, taking up a fork for the purpose, and offering him my chair to +sit down upon by the fire, whilst I did it.——I believe, +Sir, said he, very modestly, I can please him best +myself.——I am sure, said I, his honour will not like +the toast the worse for being toasted by an old +soldier.——The youth took hold of my hand, and instantly +burst into tears.——Poor youth! said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,—he has been bred up from an infant in the army, and +the name of a soldier, <i>Trim</i>, sounded in his ears like the name of +a friend;—I wish I had him here.</p> + +<p>——I never, in the longest march, said the corporal, had +so great a mind to my dinner, as I had to cry with him for +company:—What could be the matter with me, an’ please your honour? +Nothing in the world, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, blowing +his nose,—but that thou art a good-natured fellow.</p> + +<p>When I gave him the toast, continued the corporal, I thought it was +proper to tell him I was captain <i>Shandy’s</i> servant, and that your +honour (though a stranger) was extremely concerned for his +father;—and that if there was any thing in your house or +cellar——(And thou might’st have added my purse too, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>)——he was heartily welcome to +it:——He made a very low bow (which was meant to your +honour), but no answer—for his heart was full—so he went up +stairs with the toast;—I warrant you, my dear, said I, as I +opened the kitchen-door, your father will be well +again.——Mr. <i>Yorick’s</i> curate was smoaking a pipe by +the kitchen fire,—but said not a word good or bad to comfort the +youth.——I thought it wrong; added the +corporal——I think so too, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>When the lieutenant had taken his glass of sack and toast, he felt +himself a little revived, and sent down into the kitchen, to let me +know, that in about ten minutes he should be glad if I would step up +stairs.——I believe, said the landlord, he is going to +say his prayers,——for there was a book laid upon the chair +by his bed-side, and as I shut the door, I saw his son take up a +<span class = "locked">cushion.——</span></p> + +<p>I thought, said the curate, that you gentlemen of the army, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page309" id = "page309">309</a></span> +Mr. <i>Trim</i>, never said your prayers at all.——I heard +the poor gentleman say his prayers last night, said the landlady, very +devoutly, and with my own ears, or I could not have believed +it.——Are you sure of it? replied the +curate.——A soldier, an’ please your reverence, said I, +prays as often (of his own accord) as a parson;——and +when he is fighting for his king, and for his own life, and for his +honour too, he has the most reason to pray to God of any one in the +whole world——’Twas well said of thee, <i>Trim</i>, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.——But when a soldier, said I, an’ please +your reverence, has been standing for twelve hours together in the +trenches, up to his knees in cold water,—or engaged, said I, for +months together in long and dangerous marches;—harassed, perhaps, +in his rear to-day;—harassing others to-morrow;—detached +here;—countermanded there;—resting this night out upon his +arms;—beat up in his shirt the next;—benumbed in his +joints;—perhaps without straw in his tent to kneel on;—must +say his prayers <i>how</i> and <i>when</i> he can.—I believe, +said I,—for I was piqued, quoth the corporal, for the reputation +of the army,—I believe, an’ please your reverence, said I, +that when a soldier gets time to pray,—he prays as heartily as a +parson,—though not with all his fuss and +hypocrisy.——Thou shouldst not have said that, <i>Trim</i>, +said my uncle <i>Toby</i>,—for God only knows who is a hypocrite, +and who is not:——At the great and general review of us all, +corporal, at the day of judgment (and not till then)—it will be +seen who has done their duties in this world,—and who has not; and +we shall be advanced, <i>Trim</i>, accordingly.——I hope +we shall, said <i>Trim</i>.——It is in the Scripture, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>; and I will shew it thee to-morrow:—In the mean +time we may depend upon it, <i>Trim</i>, for our comfort, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, that God Almighty is so good and just a governor of the +world, that if we have but done our duties in it,—it will never be +enquired into, whether we have done them in a red coat or a black +one:——I hope not, said the corporal——But go +on, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, with thy story.</p> + +<p>When I went up, continued the corporal, into the lieutenant’s room, +which I did not do till the expiration of the ten minutes,—he was +lying in his bed with his head raised upon his hand, with his elbow upon +the pillow, and a clean white cambrick handkerchief beside +it:——The youth was just stooping down to take up the +cushion, upon which I supposed he had been kneeling,—the book was +laid upon the bed,—and, as he rose, in taking up the cushion with +one hand, he reached out his other to take it away +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page310" id = "page310">310</a></span> +at the same time.——Let it remain there, my dear, said the +lieutenant.</p> + +<p>He did not offer to speak to me, till I had walked up close to his +bed-side:—If you are captain <i>Shandy’s</i> servant, said he, you +must present my thanks to your master, with my little boy’s thanks along +with them, for his courtesy to me;—if he was of +<i>Leven’s</i>—said the lieutenant.—I told him your +honour was—Then, said he, I served three campaigns with him +in <i>Flanders</i>, and remember him,—but ’tis most likely, as I +had not the honour of any acquaintance with him, that he knows nothing +of me.——You will tell him, however, that the person his +good-nature has laid under obligations to him, is one <i>Le Fever</i>, +a lieutenant in <i>Angus’s</i>——but he knows me +not,—said he, a second time, musing;——possibly he +may my story—added he—pray tell the captain, I was the +ensign at <i>Breda</i>, whose wife was most unfortunately killed with a +musket-shot, as she lay in my arms in my +tent.——I remember the story, an’t please your honour, +said I, very well.——Do you so? said he, wiping his eyes with +his handkerchief,—then well may I.—In saying this, he drew a +little ring out of his bosom, which seemed tied with a black ribband +about his neck, and kiss’d it twice——Here, <i>Billy</i>, +said he,——the boy flew across the room to the +bed-side,—and falling down upon his knee, took the ring in his +hand, and kissed it too,—then kissed his father, and sat down upon +the bed and wept.</p> + +<p>I wish, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, with a deep sigh,—I wish, +<i>Trim</i>, I was asleep.</p> + +<p>Your honour, replied the corporal, is too much concerned;—shall +I pour your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe?——Do, +<i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>I remember, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, sighing again, the story of +the ensign and his wife, with a circumstance his modesty +omitted;—and particularly well that he, as well as she, upon some +account or other (I forget what) was universally pitied by the +whole regiment;—but finish the story thou art upon:—’Tis +finished already, said the corporal,—for I could stay no +longer,—so wished his honour a good night; young <i>Le Fever</i> +rose from off the bed, and saw me to the bottom of the stairs; and as we +went down together, told me, they had come from <i>Ireland</i>, and were +on their route to join the regiment in <i>Flanders</i>.——But +alas! said the corporal,—the lieutenant’s last day’s march is +over.—Then what is to become of his poor boy? cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page311" id = "page311">311</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapVIII" id = "bookVI_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + +<h5>THE STORY OF LE FEVER CONTINUED</h5> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +eternal honour,——though I tell it only for the sake of +those, who, when coop’d in betwixt a natural and a positive law, know +not, for their souls, which way in the world to turn +themselves——That notwithstanding my uncle <i>Toby</i> was +warmly engaged at that time in carrying on the siege of +<i>Dendermond</i>, parallel with the allies, who pressed theirs on so +vigorously, that they scarce allowed him time to get his +dinner——that nevertheless he gave up <i>Dendermond</i>, +though he had already made a lodgment upon the counterscarp;—and +bent his whole thoughts towards the private distresses at the inn; and +except that he ordered the garden gate to be bolted up, by which he +might be said to have turned the siege of <i>Dendermond</i> into a +blockade,—he left <i>Dendermond</i> to itself—to be relieved +or not by the <i>French</i> king, as the <i>French</i> king thought +good; and only considered how he himself should relieve the poor +lieutenant and his son.</p> + +<p>——That kind <span class = "smallcaps">Being</span>, who +is a friend to the friendless, shall recompence thee for this.</p> + +<p>Thou hast left this matter short, said my uncle <i>Toby</i> to the +corporal, as he was putting him to bed,——and I will tell +thee in what, <i>Trim</i>.——In the first place, when thou +madest an offer of my services to <i>Le Fever</i>,——as +sickness and travelling are both expensive, and thou knowest he was but +a poor lieutenant, with a son to subsist as well as himself out of his +pay,—that thou didst not make an offer to him of my purse; +because, had he stood in need, thou knowest, <i>Trim</i>, he had been as +welcome to it as myself.——Your honour knows, said the +corporal, I had no orders;——True, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,—thou didst very right, <i>Trim</i>, as a +soldier,—but certainly very wrong as a man.</p> + +<p>In the second place, for which, indeed, thou hast the same excuse, +continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>,——when thou offeredst him +whatever was in my house,——thou shouldst have offered him my +house too:——A sick brother officer should have the best +quarters, <i>Trim</i>, and if we had him with us,—we could tend +and look to him:——Thou art an excellent nurse thyself, +<i>Trim</i>,—and what with thy care of him, and the old woman’s, +and his boy’s, and mine together, we might recruit him again at once, +and set him upon his <span class = +"locked">legs.———</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page312" id = "page312">312</a></span> +<p>——In a fortnight or three weeks, added my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, smiling,——he might march.——He will +never march; an’ please your honour, in this world, said the +corporal:——He will march; said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, rising +up, from the side of the bed, with one shoe off:——An’ please +your honour, said the corporal, he will never march but to his +grave:——He shall march, cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, marching +the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch,—he +shall march to his regiment.——He cannot stand it, said the +corporal;——He shall be supported, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>;——He’ll drop at last, said the corporal, and +what will become of his boy?——He shall not drop, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, firmly.——A-well-o’-day,—do what we +can for him, said <i>Trim</i>, maintaining his point,—the poor +soul will die:——He shall not die, by G—, cried my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>—The <span class = "smallroman">ACCUSING SPIRIT</span>, which +flew up to heaven’s chancery with the oath, blush’d as he gave it +in;—and the <span class = "smallroman">RECORDING ANGEL</span>, as +he wrote it down, dropp’d a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for +ever.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapIX" id = "bookVI_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby</i> +went to his bureau,—put his purse into his breeches pocket, and +having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a +physician,—he went to bed, and fell asleep.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapX" id = "bookVI_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + +<h5>THE STORY OF LE FEVER CONTINUED</h5> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> sun looked bright the morning +after, to every eye in the village but <i>Le Fever’s</i> and his +afflicted son’s; the hand of death press’d heavy upon his +eye-lids,——and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn +round its circle,—when my uncle <i>Toby</i>, who had rose up an +hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant’s room, and without +preface or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by the bed-side, +and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the +manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked +him how he did,—how he had rested in the night,—what was his +complaint,—where was his pain,—and what he could do to help +him:——and without giving him time to answer any one of the +enquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page313" id = "page313">313</a></span> +had been concerting with the corporal the night before for <span class = +"locked">him.——</span></p> + +<p>——You shall go home directly, <i>Le Fever</i>, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, to my house,—and we’ll send for a doctor to see +what’s the matter,—and we’ll have an apothecary,—and the +corporal shall be your nurse;——and I’ll be your servant, +<i>Le Fever</i>.</p> + +<p>There was a frankness in my uncle <i>Toby</i>,—not the +<i>effect</i> of familiarity,—but the <i>cause</i> of +it,—which let you at once into his soul, and shewed you the +goodness of his nature; to this, there was something in his looks, and +voice, and manner, superadded, which eternally beckoned to the +unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle +<i>Toby</i> had half finished the kind offers he was making to the +father, had the son insensibly pressed up close to his knees, and had +taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it towards +him.——The blood and spirits of <i>Le Fever</i>, which were +waxing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last +citadel, the heart—rallied back,—the film forsook his eyes +for a moment,—he looked up wishfully in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +face,—then cast a look upon his boy,——and that +<i>ligament</i>, fine as it was,—was never <span class = +"locked">broken.———</span></p> + +<p>Nature instantly ebb’d again,—the film returned to its +place,——the pulse +fluttered——stopp’d——went +on——throbb’d——stopp’d +again——moved——stopp’d——shall I go +on?——No.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXI" id = "bookVI_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I am</span> so impatient to return to my +own story, that what remains of young <i>Le Fever’s</i>, that is, from +this turn of his fortune, to the time my uncle <i>Toby</i> recommended +him for my preceptor, shall be told in a very few words in the next +chapter.—All that is necessary to be added to this chapter is as +<span class = "locked">follows.—</span></p> + +<p>That my uncle <i>Toby</i>, with young <i>Le Fever</i> in his hand, +attended the poor lieutenant, as chief mourners, to his grave.</p> + +<p>That the governor of <i>Dendermond</i> paid his obsequies all +military honours,—and that <i>Yorick</i>, not to be +behind-hand—paid him all ecclesiastic—for he buried him in +his chancel:—And it appears likewise, he preached a funeral sermon +over him——I say it <i>appears</i>,—for it was +<i>Yorick’s</i> custom, which I suppose a general one with those of his +profession, on the first leaf of every sermon which he composed, to +chronicle down the time, the place, and the occasion of its being +preached: to this, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page314" id = "page314">314</a></span> +he was ever wont to add some short comment or stricture upon the sermon +itself, seldom, indeed, much to its credit:—For instance, <i>This +sermon upon the Jewish dispensation—I don’t like it at +all;—Though I own there is a world of <span class = +"smallroman">WATER-LANDISH</span> knowledge in it,—but ’tis all +tritical, and most tritically put together.———This is +but a flimsy kind of a composition; what was in my head when I made +it?</i></p> + +<p>——N. B. <i>The excellency of this text is, that it will +suit any sermon,—and of this sermon,——that it will +suit any text.———</i></p> + +<p><i>——For this sermon I shall be hanged,—for I have +stolen the greatest part of it. Doctor <em>Paidagunes</em> found me out. +<img src = "images/finger.gif" width = "30" height = "13" alt = "-->" +/> Set a thief to catch a thief.———</i></p> + +<p>On the back of half a dozen I find written, <i>So, so</i>, and no +more——and upon a couple <i>Moderato</i>; by which, as far as +one may gather from <i>Altieri’s Italian</i> dictionary,—but +mostly from the authority of a piece of green whipcord, which seemed to +have been the unravelling of <i>Yorick’s</i> whip-lash, with which he +has left us the two sermons marked <i>Moderato</i>, and the half dozen +of <i>So, so</i>, tied fast together in one bundle by +themselves,—one may safely suppose he meant pretty near the same +thing.</p> + +<p>There is but one difficulty in the way of this conjecture, which is +this, that the <i>moderato’s</i> are five times better than the <i>so, +so’s</i>;—show ten times more knowledge of the human +heart;—have seventy times more wit and spirit in them;—(and, +to rise properly in my climax)—discovered a thousand times more +genius;—and to crown all, are infinitely more entertaining than +those tied up with them:—for which reason, whene’er +<i>Yorick’s</i> <i>dramatic</i> sermons are offered to the world, though +I shall admit but one out of the whole number of the <i>so, so’s</i>, +I shall, nevertheless, adventure to print the two <i>moderato’s</i> +without any sort of scruple.</p> + +<p>What <i>Yorick</i> could mean by the words +<i>lentamente</i>,—<i>tenutè</i>,—<i>grave</i>,—and +sometimes <i>adagio</i>,—as applied to <i>theological</i> +compositions, and with which he has characterised some of these sermons, +I dare not venture to guess.——I am more puzzled +still upon finding <i>a l’octava alta!</i> upon +one;——<i>Con strepito</i> upon the back of +another;——<i>Siciliana</i> upon a +third;——<i>Alla capella</i> upon a +fourth;——<i>Con l’arco</i> upon this;——<i>Senza +l’arco</i> upon that.——All I know is, that they are musical +terms, and have a meaning;——and as he was a musical man, +I will make no doubt, but that by some quaint application of such +metaphors to the compositions in hand, they impressed very distinct +ideas +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page315" id = "page315">315</a></span> +of their several characters upon his fancy,—whatever they may do +upon that of others.</p> + +<p>Amongst these, there is that particular sermon which has +unaccountably led me into this digression——The funeral +sermon upon poor <i>Le Fever</i>, wrote out very fairly, as if from a +hasty copy.—I take notice of it the more, because it seems to +have been his favourite composition——It is upon mortality; +and is tied lengthways and cross-ways with a yarn thrum, and then rolled +up and twisted round with a half-sheet of dirty blue paper, which seems +to have been once the cast cover of a general review, which to this day +smells horribly of horse drugs.——Whether these marks of +humiliation were designed,—I something +doubt;——because at the end of the sermon (and not at the +beginning of it)—very different from his way of treating the +rest, he had <span class = "locked">wrote——</span></p> + +<p class = "center"> +Bravo!</p> + +<p>——Though not very offensively,——for it is at +two inches, at least, and a half’s distance from, and below the +concluding line of the sermon, at the very extremity of the page, and in +that right hand corner of it, which, you know, is generally covered with +your thumb; and, to do it justice, it is wrote besides with a crow’s +quill so faintly in a small <i>Italian</i> hand, as scarce to solicit +the eye towards the place, whether your thumb is there or not,—so +that from the <i>manner of it</i>, it stands half excused; and being +wrote moreover with very pale ink, diluted almost to nothing,—’tis +more like a <i>ritratto</i> of the shadow of vanity, than of <span class += "smallcaps">Vanity</span> herself—of the two; resembling rather +a faint thought of transient applause, secretly stirring up in the heart +of the composer; than a gross mark of it, coarsely obtruded upon the +world.</p> + +<p>With all these extenuations, I am aware, that in publishing this, +I do no service to <i>Yorick’s</i> character as a modest +man;—but all men have their failings! and what lessens this still +farther, and almost wipes it away, is this; that the word was struck +through sometime afterwards (as appears from a different tint of +the ink) with a line quite across it in this manner, <s>BRAVO</s> +——as if he had retracted, or was ashamed of the opinion he +had once entertained of it.</p> + +<p>These short characters of his sermons were always written, excepting +in this one instance, upon the first leaf of his sermon, which served as +a cover to it; and usually upon the inside of it, which was turned +towards the text;—but at the end of his discourse, where, perhaps, +he had five or six pages, and sometimes, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page316" id = "page316">316</a></span> +perhaps, a whole score to turn himself in,—he took a large +circuit, and, indeed, a much more mettlesome one;—as if he +had snatched the occasion of unlacing himself with a few more +frolicksome strokes at vice, than the straitness of the pulpit +allowed.—These, though hussar-like, they skirmish lightly and out +of all order, are still auxiliaries on the side of virtue;—tell me +then, Mynheer Vander Blonederdondergewdenstronke, why they should not be +printed together?</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXII" id = "bookVI_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> had turned +everything into money, and settled all accounts betwixt the agent of the +regiment and <i>Le Fever</i>, and betwixt <i>Le Fever</i> and all +mankind,——there remained nothing more in my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> hands, than an old regimental coat and a sword; so that my +uncle <i>Toby</i> found little or no opposition from the world in taking +administration. The coat my uncle <i>Toby</i> gave the +corporal;——Wear it, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +as long as it will hold together, for the sake of the poor +lieutenant——And this,——said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, taking up the sword in his hand, and drawing it out of the +scabbard as he spoke——and this, <i>Le Fever</i>, I’ll save +for thee,—’tis all the fortune, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +hanging it up upon a crook, and pointing to it,—’tis all the +fortune, my dear <i>Le Fever</i>, which God has left thee; but if he has +given thee a heart to fight thy way with it in the world,—and thou +doest it like a man of honour,—’tis enough for us.</p> + +<p>As soon as my uncle <i>Toby</i> had laid a foundation, and taught him +to inscribe a regular polygon in a circle, he sent him to a public +school, where, excepting <i>Whitsontide</i> and <i>Christmas</i>, at +which times the corporal was punctually dispatched for him,—he +remained to the spring of the year, seventeen; when the stories of the +emperor’s sending his army into <i>Hungary</i> against the <i>Turks</i>, +kindling a spark of fire in his bosom, he left his <i>Greek</i> and +<i>Latin</i> without leave, and throwing himself upon his knees before +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, begged his father’s sword, and my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> leave along with it, to go and try his fortune under +<i>Eugene</i>.—Twice did my uncle <i>Toby</i> forget his wound and +cry out, <i>Le Fever!</i> I will go with thee, and thou shalt fight +beside me——And twice he laid his hand upon his groin, and +hung down his head in sorrow and <span class = +"locked">disconsolation.——</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> took down the sword from the crook, where +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page317" id = "page317">317</a></span> +it had hung untouched ever since the lieutenant’s death, and delivered +it to the corporal to brighten up;——and having detained +<i>Le Fever</i> a single fortnight to equip him, and contract for his +passage to <i>Leghorn</i>,—he put the sword into his +hand.——If thou art brave, <i>Le Fever</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, this will not fail thee,——but Fortune, said he +(musing a little),——Fortune may——And if she +does,—added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, embracing him, come back again +to me, <i>Le Fever</i>, and we will shape thee another course.</p> + +<p>The greatest injury could not have oppressed the heart of <i>Le +Fever</i> more than my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> paternal +kindness;——he parted from my uncle <i>Toby</i>, as the best +of sons from the best of fathers——both dropped +tears——and as my uncle <i>Toby</i> gave him his last kiss, +he slipped sixty guineas, tied up in an old purse of his father’s, in +which was his mother’s ring, into his hand,——and bid God +bless him.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXIII" id = "bookVI_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Le Fever</span> got up to the Imperial army +just time enough to try what metal his sword was made of, at the defeat +of the <i>Turks</i> before <i>Belgrade</i>; but a series of unmerited +mischances had pursued him from that moment, and trod close upon his +heels for four years together after; he had withstood these buffetings +to the last, till sickness overtook him at <i>Marseilles</i>, from +whence he wrote my uncle <i>Toby</i> word, he had lost his time, his +services, his health, and, in short, everything but his +sword;——and was waiting for the first ship to return back to +him.</p> + +<p>As this letter came to hand about six weeks before <i>Susannah’s</i> +accident, <i>Le Fever</i> was hourly expected; and was uppermost in my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mind all the time my father was giving him and +<i>Yorick</i> a description of what kind of a person he would chuse for +a preceptor to me: but as my uncle <i>Toby</i> thought my father at +first somewhat fanciful in the accomplishments he required, he forebore +mentioning <i>Le Fever’s</i> name,——till the character, by +<i>Yorick’s</i> interposition, ending unexpectedly, in one, who should +be gentle-tempered, and generous, and good, it impressed the image of +<i>Le Fever</i>, and his interest, upon my uncle <i>Toby</i> so +forcibly, he rose instantly off his chair; and laying down his pipe, in +order to take hold of both my father’s hands——I beg, +brother <i>Shandy</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I may recommend +poor <i>Le Fever’s</i> son to you——I beseech you do, +added <i>Yorick</i>——He +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page318" id = "page318">318</a></span> +has a good heart, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——And a brave one +too, an’ please your honour, said the corporal.</p> + +<p>——The best hearts, <i>Trim</i>, are ever the bravest, +replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>.——And the greatest cowards, an’ +please your honour, in our regiment, were the greatest rascals in +it.——There was serjeant <i>Kumber</i>, and <span class = +"locked">ensign———</span></p> + +<p>——We’ll talk of them, said my father, another time.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXIV" id = "bookVI_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">What</span> a jovial and a merry world +would this be, may it please your worships, but for that inextricable +labyrinth of debts, cares, woes, want, grief, discontent, melancholy, +large jointures, impositions, and lies!</p> + +<p>Doctor <i>Slop</i>, like a son of a w——, as my father +called him for it,—to exalt himself,—debased me to +death,—and made ten thousand times more of <i>Susannah’s</i> +accident, than there was any grounds for; so that in a week’s time, or +less, it was in everybody’s mouth, <i>That poor Master Shandy</i> +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * </span>*   +entirely.—And <span class = "smallcaps">Fame</span>, who loves to +double everything,—in three days more, had sworn, positively she +saw it,—and all the world, as usual, gave credit to her +evidence——“That the nursery window had not only +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span>* +  ;——but that +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * +</span>* ’s also.”</p> + +<p>Could the world have been sued like a <span class = +"smallroman">BODY-CORPORATE</span>,—my father had brought an +action upon the case, and trounced it sufficiently; but to fall foul of +individuals about it——as every soul who had mentioned the +affair, did it with the greatest pity imaginable;——’twas +like flying in the very face of his best friends:——And yet +to acquiesce under the report, in silence—was to acknowledge it +openly,—at least in the opinion of one half of the world; and to +make a bustle again, in contradicting it,—was to confirm it as +strongly in the opinion of the other <span class = +"locked">half.———</span></p> + +<p>——Was ever poor devil of a country gentleman so hampered? +said my father.</p> + +<p>I would shew him publickly, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, at the market +cross.</p> + +<p>——’Twill have no effect, said my father.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page319" id = "page319">319</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXV" id = "bookVI_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p>——I’ll put him, however, into breeches, said my +father,—let the world say what it will.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXVI" id = "bookVI_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> are a thousand resolutions, +Sir, both in church and state, as well as in matters, Madam, of a more +private concern;—which though they have carried all the appearance +in the world of being taken, and entered upon in a hasty, hare-brained, +and unadvised manner, were, notwithstanding this (and could you or I +have got into the cabinet, or stood behind the curtain, we should have +found it was so), weighed, poized, and +perpended——argued upon—canvassed +through——entered into, and examined on all sides with so +much coolness, that the <span class = "smallroman">GODDESS</span> of +<span class = "smallroman">COOLNESS</span> herself (I do not take +upon me to prove her existence) could neither have wished it, or done it +better.</p> + +<p>Of the number of these was my father’s resolution of putting me into +breeches; which, though determined at once,—in a kind of huff, and +a defiance of all mankind, had, nevertheless, been <i>pro’d</i> and +<i>conn’d</i>, and judicially talked over betwixt him and my mother +about a month before, in two several <i>beds of justice</i>, which my +father had held for that purpose. I shall explain the nature of +these beds of justice in my next chapter; and in the chapter following +that, you shall step with me, Madam, behind the curtain, only to hear in +what kind of manner my father and my mother debated between themselves, +this affair of the breeches,—from which you may form an idea, how +they debated all lesser matters.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXVII" id = "bookVI_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> ancient <i>Goths</i> of +<i>Germany</i>, who (the learned <i>Cluverius</i> is positive) were +first seated in the country between the <i>Vistula</i> and the +<i>Oder</i>, and who afterwards incorporated the <i>Herculi</i>, the +<i>Bugians</i>, and some other <i>Vandallick</i> clans to ’em—had +all of them a wise custom of debating everything of importance to their +state, twice; that is,—once drunk, and once +sober:——Drunk,—that +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page320" id = "page320">320</a></span> +their councils might not want vigour;——and sober—that +they might not want discretion.</p> + +<p>Now my father being entirely a water-drinker,—was a long time +gravelled almost to death, in turning this as much to his advantage, as +he did every other thing which the ancients did or said; and it was not +till the seventh year of his marriage, after a thousand fruitless +experiments and devices, that he hit upon an expedient which answered +the purpose;——and that was, when any difficult and momentous +point was to be settled in the family, which required great sobriety, +and great spirit too, in its determination,——he fixed and +set apart the first <i>Sunday</i> night in the month, and the +<i>Saturday</i> night which immediately preceded it, to argue it over, +in bed, with my mother: By which contrivance, if you consider, Sir, with +yourself, +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span> +</p> + +<p>These my father, humorously enough, called his <i>beds of +justice</i>;——for from the two different counsels taken in +these two different humours, a middle one was generally found out +which touched the point of wisdom as well, as if he had got drunk and +sober a hundred times.</p> + +<p>It must not be made a secret of to the world, that this answers full +as well in literary discussions, as either in military or conjugal; but +it is not every author that can try the experiment as the <i>Goths</i> +and <i>Vandals</i> did it——or, if he can, may it be always +for his body’s health; and to do it, as my father did it,—am I +sure it would be always for his soul’s.</p> + +<p>My way is this:——</p> + +<p>In all nice and ticklish discussions—(of which, heaven knows, +there are but too many in my book),—where I find I cannot take a +step without the danger of having either their worships or their +reverences upon my back——I write one-half +<i>full</i>,—and t’other <i>fasting</i>;——or write it +all full,—and correct it fasting:——or write it +fasting,—and correct it full, for they all come to the same +thing:——So that with a less variation from my father’s plan, +than my father’s from the <i>Gothick</i>——I feel myself +upon a par with him in his first bed of justice,—and no way +inferior to him in his second.——These different and almost +irreconcileable effects, flow uniformly from the wise and wonderful +mechanism of nature,—of which,—be her’s the +honour.——All that we can do, is to turn and work the machine +to the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page321" id = "page321">321</a></span> +improvement and better manufactory of the arts and <span class = +"locked">sciences.——</span></p> + +<p>Now, when I write full,—I write as if I was never to write +fasting again as long as I live;——that is, I write free +from the cares as well as the terrors of the +world.——I count not the number of my scars,—nor +does my fancy go forth into dark entries and bye-corners to antedate my +stabs.——In a word, my pen takes its course; and I write on +as much from the fulness of my heart, as my <span class = +"locked">stomach.——</span></p> + +<p>But when, an’ please your honours, I indite fasting, ’tis a different +history.——I pay the world all possible attention and +respect,—and have as great a share (whilst it lasts) of that +under-strapping virtue of discretion as the best of you.——So +that betwixt both, I write a careless kind of a civil, nonsensical, +good-humoured <i>Shandean</i> book, which will do all your hearts <span +class = "locked">good———</span></p> + +<p>——And all your heads too,—provided you understand +it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXVIII" id = "bookVI_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">We</span> should begin, said my father, +turning himself half round in bed, and shifting his pillow a little +towards my mother’s, as he opened the debate——We should +begin to think, Mrs. <i>Shandy</i>, of putting this boy into <span class += "locked">breeches.——</span></p> + +<p>We should so,—said my mother.——We defer it, my +dear, quoth my father, <span class = +"locked">shamefully.———</span></p> + +<p>I think we do, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>,—said my mother.</p> + +<p>——Not but the child looks extremely well, said my +father<ins class = "correction" title = ", invisible at line-end">, +</ins>in his vests and <span class = +"locked">tunicks.———</span></p> + +<p>———He does look very well in them,—replied my +mother.———</p> + +<p>——And for that reason it would be almost a sin, added my +father, to take him out of <span class = +"locked">’em.——</span></p> + +<p>——It would so,—said my mother:——But +indeed he is growing a very tall lad,—rejoined my father.</p> + +<p>——He is very tall for his age, indeed,—said my +mother.——</p> + +<p>——I can not (making two syllables of it) imagine, quoth +my father, who the deuce he takes <span class = +"locked">after.——</span></p> + +<p>I cannot conceive, for my life,—said my +mother.——</p> + +<p>Humph!——said my father.</p> + +<p>(The dialogue ceased for a moment.)</p> + +<p>——I am very short myself,—continued my father +gravely.</p> + +<p>You are very short, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>,—said my mother.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page322" id = "page322">322</a></span> +<p>Humph! quoth my father to himself, a second time: in muttering which, +he plucked his pillow a little further from my mother’s—and +turning about again, there was an end of the debate for three minutes +and a half.</p> + +<p>——When he gets these breeches made, cried my father in a +higher tone, he’ll look like a beast in ’em.</p> + +<p>He will be very awkward in them at first, replied my +mother.——</p> + +<p>——And ’twill be lucky, if that’s the worst on’t, added my +father.</p> + +<p>It will be very lucky, answered my mother.</p> + +<p>I suppose, replied my father,—making some pause +first,—he’ll be exactly like other people’s <span class = +"locked">children.——</span></p> + +<p>Exactly, said my mother.———</p> + +<p>——Though I shall be sorry for that, added my father: and +so the debate stopp’d again.</p> + +<p>——They should be of leather, said my father, turning him +about <span class = "locked">again.—</span></p> + +<p>They will last him, said my mother, the longest.</p> + +<p>But he can have no linings to ’em, replied my +father.———</p> + +<p>He cannot, said my mother.</p> + +<p>’Twere better to have them of fustian, quoth my father.</p> + +<p>Nothing can be better, quoth my mother.———</p> + +<p>—Except dimity,—replied my father:——’Tis best +of all,—replied my mother.</p> + +<p>——One must not give him his death, +however,—interrupted my father.</p> + +<p>By no means, said my mother:——and so the dialogue stood +still again.</p> + +<p>I am resolved, however, quoth my father, breaking silence the fourth +time, he shall have no pockets in <span class = +"locked">them.—</span></p> + +<p>——There is no occasion for any, said my +mother.———</p> + +<p>I mean in his coat and waistcoat,—cried my father.</p> + +<p>——I mean so too,—replied my mother.</p> + +<p>——Though if he gets a gig or top——Poor souls! +it is a crown and a sceptre to them,—they should have where to +secure <span class = "locked">it.———</span></p> + +<p>Order it as you please, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, replied my +mother.———</p> + +<p>——But don’t you think it right? added my father, pressing +the point home to her.</p> + +<p>Perfectly, said my mother, if it pleases you, Mr. +<i>Shandy</i>.———</p> + +<p>——There’s for you! cried my father, losing +temper——Pleases me!——You never will distinguish, +Mrs. <i>Shandy</i>, nor shall I ever teach you to do it, betwixt a point +of pleasure and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page323" id = "page323">323</a></span> +a point of convenience.——This was on the <i>Sunday</i> +night:——and further this chapter sayeth not.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXIX" id = "bookVI_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">After</span> my father had debated the +affair of the breeches with my mother,—he consulted <i>Albertus +Rubenius</i> upon it; and <i>Albertus Rubenius</i> used my father ten +times worse in the consultation (if possible) than even my father +had used my mother: For as <i>Rubenius</i> had wrote a quarto +<i>express</i>, <i>De re Vestiaria Veterum</i>,—it was +<i>Rubenius’s</i> business to have given my father some lights.—On +the contrary, my father might as well have thought of extracting the +seven cardinal virtues out of a long beard,—as of extracting a +single word out of <i>Rubenius</i> upon the subject.</p> + +<p>Upon every other article of ancient dress, <i>Rubenius</i> was very +communicative to my father;—gave him a full and satisfactory +account of</p> + +<div class = "inset"> +<p>The Toga, or loose gown.</p> +<p>The Chlamys.</p> +<p>The Ephod.</p> +<p>The Tunica, or Jacket.</p> +<p>The Synthesis.</p> +<p>The Pænula.</p> +<p>The Lacema, with its Cucullus.</p> +<p>The Paludamentum.</p> +<p>The Prætexta.</p> +<p>The Sagum, or soldier’s jerkin.</p> +<p>The Trabea: of which, according to <i>Suetonius</i>, there were three +<span class = "locked">kinds.—</span></p> +</div> + +<p>——But what are all these to the breeches? said my +father.</p> + +<p><i>Rubenius</i> threw him down upon the counter all kinds of shoes +which had been in fashion with the <span class = +"locked"><i>Romans</i>.———</span></p> + +<p>There was,</p> + +<div class = "inset"> +<div class = "inset"> +<p>The open shoe.</p> +<p>The close shoe.</p> +<p>The slip shoe.</p> +<p>The wooden shoe.</p> +<p>The soc.</p> +<p>The buskin.</p> +</div> +<p>And The military shoe with hobnails in it, which <i>Juvenal</i> takes +notice of.</p> +</div> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page324" id = "page324">324</a></span> +<p>There were, The clogs.</p> +<div class = "inset"> +<div class = "inset"> +<p>The pattins.</p> +<p>The pantoufles.</p> +<p>The brogues.</p> +<p>The sandals, with latchets to them.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p>There was, The felt shoe.</p> +<div class = "inset"> +<div class = "inset"> +<p>The linen shoe.</p> +<p>The laced shoe.</p> +<p>The braided shoe.</p> +<p>The calceus incisus.</p> +</div> +<p>And The calceus rostratus.</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Rubenius</i> shewed my father how well they all fitted,—in +what manner they laced on,—with what points, straps, thongs, +latchets, ribbands, jaggs, and <span class = +"locked">ends.———</span></p> + +<p>——But I want to be informed about the breeches, said my +father.</p> + +<p><i>Albertus Rubenius</i> informed my father that the <i>Romans</i> +manufactured stuffs of various fabrics,——some +plain,—some striped,—others diapered throughout the whole +contexture of the wool, with silk and gold——That linen did +not begin to be in common use till towards the declension of the empire, +when the <i>Egyptians</i> coming to settle amongst them, brought it into +vogue.</p> + +<p>——That persons of quality and fortune distinguished +themselves by the fineness and whiteness of their clothes; which colour +(next to purple, which was appropriated to the great offices) they most +affected, and wore on their birthdays and public +rejoicings.——That it appeared from the best historians of +those times, that they frequently sent their clothes to the fuller, to +be clean’d and whitened:——but that the inferior people, to +avoid that expence, generally wore brown clothes, and of a something +coarser texture,—till towards the beginning of <i>Augustus’s</i> +reign, when the slave dressed like his master, and almost every +distinction of habiliment was lost, but the <i>Latus Clavus</i>.</p> + +<p>And what was the <i>Latus Clavus?</i> said my father.</p> + +<p><i>Rubenius</i> told him, that the point was still litigating amongst +the learned:——That <i>Egnatius</i>, <i>Sigonius</i>, +<i>Bossius Ticinensis</i>, <i>Bayfius</i>, <i>Budæus</i>, +<i>Salmasius</i>, <i>Lipsius</i>, <i>Lazius</i>, <i>Isaac Casaubon</i>, +and <i>Joseph Scaliger</i>, all differed from each other,—and he +from them: That some took it to be the button,—some the coat +itself,—others only the colour of it:—That the great +<i>Bayfius</i>, in his Wardrobe of the Ancients, chap. 12—honestly +said, he +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page325" id = "page325">325</a></span> +knew not what it was,—whether a tibula,—a stud,—a +button,—a loop,—a buckle,—or clasps and +<span class = "locked">keepers.———</span></p> + +<p>——My father lost the horse, but not the +saddle——They are <i>hooks and eyes</i>, said my +father——and with hooks and eyes he ordered my breeches to be +made.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXX" id = "bookVI_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">We</span> are now going to enter upon a new +scene of events.———</p> + +<p>——Leave we then the breeches in the taylor’s hands, with +my father standing over him with his cane, reading him as he sat at work +a lecture upon the <i>latus clavus</i>, and pointing to the precise part +of the waistband, where he was determined to have it sewed <span class = +"locked">on.——</span></p> + +<p>Leave we my mother—(truest of all the <i>Pococurantes</i> of +her sex!)—careless about it, as about everything else in the world +which concerned her;—that is,—indifferent whether it was +done this way or that,—provided it was but done at <span class = +"locked">all.——</span></p> + +<p>Leave we <i>Slop</i> likewise to the full profits of all my +dishonours.———</p> + +<p>Leave we poor <i>Le Fever</i> to recover, and get home from +<i>Marseilles</i> as he can.——And last of all,—because +the hardest of <span class = "locked">all——</span></p> + +<p>Let us leave, if possible, <i>myself</i>:——But ’tis +impossible,—I must go along with you to the end of the +work.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXI" id = "bookVI_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">If</span> the reader has not a clear +conception of the rood and the half of ground which lay at the bottom of +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> kitchen-garden, and which was the scene of so +many of his delicious hours,—the fault is not in me,—but in +his imagination;—for I am sure I gave him so minute a description, +I was almost ashamed of it.</p> + +<p>When <span class = "smallcaps">Fate</span> was looking forwards one +afternoon, into the great transactions of future times,—and +recollected for what purposes this little plot, by a decree fast bound +down in iron, had been destined,——she gave a nod to <span +class = "smallcaps">Nature</span>,—’twas enough—Nature threw +half a spade full of her kindliest compost upon it, with just so +<i>much</i> clay in it, as to retain the forms of angles and +indentings,—and so <i>little</i> of it too, as not to cling to the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page326" id = "page326">326</a></span> +spade, and render works of so much glory, nasty in foul weather.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> came down, as the reader has been informed, with +plans along with him, of almost every fortified town in <i>Italy</i> and +<i>Flanders</i>; so let the Duke of <i>Marlborough</i>, or the allies, +have set down before what town they pleased, my uncle <i>Toby</i> was +prepared for them.</p> + +<p>His way, which was the simplest one in the world, was this; as soon +as ever a town was invested—(but sooner when the design was known) +to take the plan of it (let it be what town it would), and enlarge it +upon a scale to the exact size of his bowling-green; upon the surface of +which, by means of a large role of packthread, and a number of small +piquets driven into the ground, at the several angles and redans, he +transferred the lines from his paper; then taking the profile of the +place, with its works, to determine the depths and slopes of the +ditches,—the talus of the glacis, and the precise height of the +several banquets, parapets, &c.—he set the corporal to +work——and sweetly went it on:——The nature of the +soil,—the nature of the work itself,—and above all, the +good-nature of my uncle <i>Toby</i> sitting by from morning to night, +and chatting kindly with the corporal upon past-done deeds,—left +<span class = "smallroman">LABOUR</span> little else but the ceremony of +the name.</p> + +<p>When the place was finished in this manner, and put into a proper +posture of defence,—it was invested,—and my uncle +<i>Toby</i> and the corporal began to run their first +parallel.——I beg I may not be interrupted in my story, +by being told, <i>That the first parallel should be at least three +hundred toises distant from the main body of the place,—and that I +have not left a single inch for it</i>;———for my uncle +<i>Toby</i> took the liberty of incroaching upon his kitchen-garden, for +the sake of enlarging his works on the bowling-green, and for that +reason generally ran his first and second parallels betwixt two rows of +his cabbages and his cauliflowers; the conveniences and inconveniences +of which will be considered at large in the history of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> and the corporal’s campaigns, of which, this I’m now +writing is but a sketch, and will be finished, if I conjecture right, in +three pages (but there is no guessing)——The campaigns +themselves will take up as many books; and therefore I apprehend it +would be hanging too great a weight of one kind of matter in so flimsy a +performance as this, to rhapsodize them, as I once intended, into the +body of the work——surely they had better be printed +apart,——we’ll consider the affair——so take the +following sketch of them in the meantime.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page327" id = "page327">327</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXII" id = "bookVI_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> the town, with its works, was +finished, my uncle <i>Toby</i> and the corporal began to run their first +parallel——not at random, or any how——but from +the same points and distances the allies had begun to run theirs; and +regulating their approaches and attacks, by the accounts my uncle +<i>Toby</i> received from the daily papers,—they went on, during +the whole siege, step by step with the allies.</p> + +<p>When the duke of <i>Marlborough</i> made a lodgment,——my +uncle <i>Toby</i> made a lodgment too,——And when the face of +a bastion was battered down, or a defence ruined,—the corporal +took his mattock and did as much,—and so on;——gaining +ground, and making themselves masters of the works one after another, +till the town fell into their hands.</p> + +<p>To one who took pleasure in the happy state of others,—there +could not have been a greater sight in the world, than, on a +post-morning, in which a practicable breach had been made by the duke of +<i>Marlborough</i>, in the main body of the place,—to have stood +behind the horn-beam hedge, and observed the spirit with which my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, with <i>Trim</i> behind him, sallied +forth;——the one with the <i>Gazette</i> in his +hand,—the other with a spade on his shoulder to execute the +contents.——What an honest triumph in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +looks as he marched up to the ramparts! What intense pleasure swimming +in his eye as he stood over the corporal, reading the paragraph ten +times over to him, as he was at work, lest, peradventure, he should make +the breach an inch too wide,—or leave it an inch too +narrow.——But when the <i>chamade</i> was beat, and the +corporal helped my uncle up it, and followed with the colours in his +hand, to fix them upon the ramparts—Heaven! Earth! +Sea!——but what avails apostrophes?——with all +your elements, wet or dry, ye never compounded so intoxicating a +draught.</p> + +<p>In this track of happiness for many years, without one interruption +to it, except now and then when the wind continued to blow due west for +a week or ten days together, which detained the <i>Flanders</i> mail, +and kept them so long in torture,—but still ’twas the torture of +the happy——In this track, I say, did my uncle +<i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i> move for many years, every year of which, +and sometimes every month, from the invention of either the one or the +other of them, adding some new conceit or quirk of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page328" id = "page328">328</a></span> +improvement to their operations, which always opened fresh springs of +delight in carrying them on.</p> + +<p>The first year’s campaign was carried on from beginning to end, in +the plain and simple method I’ve related.</p> + +<p>In the second year, in which my uncle <i>Toby</i> took <i>Liege</i> +and <i>Ruremond</i>, he thought he might afford the expence of four +handsome draw-bridges, of two of which I have given an exact description +in the former part of my work.</p> + +<p>At the latter end of the same year he added a couple of gates with +portcullises:——These last were converted afterwards into +orgues, as the better thing; and during the winter of the same year, my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, instead of a new suit of clothes, which he always had +at <i>Christmas</i>, treated himself with a handsome sentry-box, to +stand at the corner of the bowling-green, betwixt which point and the +foot of the glacis, there was left a little kind of an esplanade for him +and the corporal to confer and hold councils of war upon.</p> + +<p>——The sentry-box was in case of rain.</p> + +<p>All these were painted white three times over the ensuing spring, +which enabled my uncle <i>Toby</i> to take the field with great +splendour.</p> + +<p>My father would often say to <i>Yorick</i>, that if any mortal in the +whole universe had done such a thing, except his brother <i>Toby</i>, it +would have been looked upon by the world as one of the most refined +satires upon the parade and prancing manner in which <i>Lewis</i> XIV. +from the beginning of the war, but particularly that very year, had +taken the field——But ’tis not my brother <i>Toby’s</i> +nature, kind soul! my father would add, to insult any one.</p> + +<p>——But let us go on.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXIII" id = "bookVI_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I must</span> observe, that although in the +first year’s campaign, the word <i>town</i> is often +mentioned,—yet there was no town at that time within the polygon; +that addition was not made till the summer following the spring in which +the bridges and sentry-box were painted, which was the third year of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> campaigns,—when upon his taking <i>Amberg</i>, +<i>Bonn</i>, and <i>Rhinberg</i>, and <i>Huy</i> and <i>Limbourg</i>, +one after another, a thought came into the corporal’s head, that to +talk of taking so many towns, <i>without one <span class = +"smallroman">TOWN</span> to shew for it</i>,—was a very +nonsensical way of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page329" id = "page329">329</a></span> +going to work, and so proposed to my uncle <i>Toby</i>, that they should +have a little model of a town built for them,—to be run up +together of slit deals, and then painted, and clapped within the +interior polygon to serve for all.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> felt the good of the project instantly, and +instantly agreed to it, but with the addition of two singular +improvements, of which he was almost as proud as if he had been the +original inventor of the project itself.</p> + +<p>The one was, to have the town built exactly in the style of those of +which it was most likely to be the representative:——with +grated windows, and the gable ends of the houses, facing the streets, +&c. &c.—as those in <i>Ghent</i> and <i>Bruges</i>, and +the rest of the towns in <i>Brabant</i> and <i>Flanders</i>.</p> + +<p>The other was, not to have the houses run up together, as the +corporal proposed, but to have every house independent, to hook on, or +off, so as to form into the plan of whatever town they pleased. This was +put directly into hand, <ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: probably not an error">and many and many</ins> a look of +mutual congratulation was exchanged between my uncle <i>Toby</i> and the +corporal, as the carpenter did the work.</p> + +<p>——It answered prodigiously the next +summer——the town was a perfect +<i>Proteus</i>——It was <i>Landen</i>, and <i>Trerebach</i>, +and <i>Santvliet</i>, and <i>Drusen</i>, and <i>Hagenau</i>,—and +then it was <i>Ostend</i> and <i>Menin</i>, and <i>Aeth</i> and +<i>Dendermond</i>.</p> + +<p>——Surely never did any <span class = +"smallroman">TOWN</span> act so many parts, since <i>Sodom</i> and +<i>Gomorah</i>, as my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> town did.</p> + +<p>In the fourth year, my uncle <i>Toby</i> thinking a town looked +foolishly without a church, added a very fine one with a +steeple.——<i>Trim</i> was for having bells in +it;——my uncle <i>Toby</i> said, the metal had better be cast +into cannon.</p> + +<p>This led the way the next campaign for half a dozen brass +field-pieces, to be planted three and three on each side of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> sentry-box; and in a short time, these led the way for a +train of somewhat larger,—and so on—(as must always be +the case in hobby-horsical affairs) from pieces of half an inch bore, +till it came at last to my father’s jack boots.</p> + +<p>The next year, which was that in which <i>Lisle</i> was besieged, and +at the close of which both <i>Ghent</i> and <i>Bruges</i> fell into our +hands,—my uncle <i>Toby</i> was sadly put to it for <i>proper</i> +ammunition;——I say proper +ammunition——because his great artillery would not bear +powder; and ’twas well for the <i>Shandy</i> family they would +not——For so full were the papers, from the beginning to the +end of the siege, of the incessant firings kept up by the +besiegers,——and so heated was my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +imagination +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page330" id = "page330">330</a></span> +with the accounts of them, that he had infallibly shot away all his +estate.</p> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">Something</span> therefore was wanting as a +<i>succedaneum</i>, especially in one or two of the more violent +paroxysms of the siege, to keep up something like a continual firing in +the imagination,——and this <i>something</i>, the corporal, +whose principal strength lay in invention, supplied by an entire new +system of battering of his own,—without which, this had been +objected to by military critics, to the end of the world, as one of the +great <i>desiderata</i> of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> apparatus.</p> + +<p>This will not be explained the worse, for setting off, as I generally +do, at a little distance from the subject.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXIV" id = "bookVI_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">With</span> two or three other trinkets, +small in themselves, but of great regard, which poor <i>Tom</i>, the +corporal’s unfortunate brother, had sent him over, with the account of +his marriage with the <i>Jew’s</i> widow——there was</p> + +<p>A <i>Montero</i>-cap and two <i>Turkish</i> tobacco-pipes.</p> + +<p>The <i>Montero</i>-cap I shall describe by and bye.——The +<i>Turkish</i> tobacco-pipes had nothing particular in them, they were +fitted up and ornamented as usual, with flexible tubes of <i>Morocco</i> +leather and gold wire, and mounted at their ends, the one of them with +ivory,—the other with black ebony, tipp’d with silver.</p> + +<p>My father, who saw all things in lights different from the rest of +the world, would say to the corporal, that he ought to look upon these +two presents more as tokens of his brother’s nicety, than his +affection.——<i>Tom</i> did not care, <i>Trim</i>, he would +say, to put on the cap, or to smoke in the tobacco-pipe of a +<i>Jew</i>.——God bless your honour, the corporal would say, +(giving a strong reason to the contrary)—how can that be?</p> + +<p>The Montero-cap was scarlet, of a superfine <i>Spanish</i> cloth, +dyed in grain, and mounted all round with fur, except about four inches +in the front, which was faced with a light blue, slightly +embroidered,—and seemed to have been the property of a +<i>Portuguese</i> quartermaster, not of foot, but of horse, as the word +denotes.</p> + +<p>The corporal was not a little proud of it, as well for its own sake, +as the sake of the giver, so seldom or never put it on but upon <span +class = "smallcaps">Gala</span>-days; and yet never was a Montero-cap +put to so +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page331" id = "page331">331</a></span> +many uses; for in all controverted points, whether military or culinary, +provided the corporal was sure he was in the right,—it was either +his <i>oath</i>,—his <i>wager</i>,—or his <i>gift</i>.</p> + +<p>——’Twas his gift in the present case.</p> + +<p>I’ll be bound, said the corporal, speaking to himself, to <i>give</i> +away my Montero-cap to the first beggar who comes to the door, if I do +not manage this matter to his honour’s satisfaction.</p> + +<p>The completion was no further off than the very next morning; which +was that of the storm of the counterscarp betwixt the <i>Lower +Deule</i>, to the right, and the gate <i>St. Andrew</i>,—and on +the left, between St. <i>Magdalen’s</i> and the river.</p> + +<p>As this was the most memorable attack in the whole war,—the +most gallant and obstinate on both sides,—and I must add the most +bloody too, for it cost the allies themselves that morning above eleven +hundred men,—my uncle <i>Toby</i> prepared himself for it with a +more than ordinary solemnity.</p> + +<p>The eve which preceded, as my uncle <i>Toby</i> went to bed, he +ordered his ramallie wig, which had laid inside out for many years in +the corner of an old <ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: expected form is ‘campaigning’">compaigning</ins> trunk, which stood by +his bedside, to be taken out and laid upon the lid of it, ready for the +morning;—and the very first thing he did in his shirt, when he had +stepped out of bed, my uncle <i>Toby</i>, after he had turned the rough +side outwards,—put it on:——This done, he proceeded +next to his breeches, and having buttoned the waistband, he forthwith +buckled on his sword-belt, and had got his sword half way in,—when +he considered he should want shaving, and that it would be very +inconvenient doing it with his sword on,—so took it +off:——In assaying to put on his regimental coat and +waistcoat, my uncle <i>Toby</i> found the same objection in his +wig,—so that went off too:—So that what with one thing and +what with another, as always falls out when a man is in the most +haste,—’twas ten o’clock, which was half an hour later than his +usual time, before my uncle <i>Toby</i> sallied out.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXV" id = "bookVI_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby</i> had scarce +turned the corner of his yew hedge, which separated his kitchen-garden +from his bowling-green, when he perceived the corporal had begun the +attack without <span class = +"locked">him.———</span></p> + +<p>Let me stop and give you a picture of the corporal’s apparatus; and +of the corporal himself in the height of his attack, just as it +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page332" id = "page332">332</a></span> +struck my uncle <i>Toby</i>, as he turned towards the sentry-box, where +the corporal was at work,——for in nature there is not such +another,——nor can any combination of all that is grotesque +and whimsical in her works produce its equal.</p> + +<p>The corporal———</p> + +<p>——Tread lightly on his ashes, ye men of +genius,——for he was your kinsman:</p> + +<p>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! thou should’st wear thy Montero-cap every hour of the day, and +every day of the week,—and when it was worn out, I would +purchase thee a couple like it:——But alas! alas! alas! now +that I can do this in spite of their reverences—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 <i>clod of the +valley!</i></p> + +<p>——But what——what is this, to that future and +dreaded page, where I look towards the velvet pall, decorated with the +military ensigns of thy master—the first—the foremost of +created beings;——where, I shall see thee, faithful +servant! laying his sword and scabbard with a trembling hand across his +coffin, and then returning pale as ashes to the door, to take his +mourning horse by the bridle, to follow his hearse, as he directed +thee;——where—all my father’s systems shall be baffled +by his sorrows; and, in spite of his philosophy, I shall behold +him, as he inspects the lackered plate, twice taking his spectacles from +off his nose, to wipe away the dew which nature has shed upon +them——When I see him cast in the rosemary with an air of +disconsolation, which cries through my ears,——O <i>Toby!</i> +in what corner of the world shall I seek thy fellow?</p> + +<p>——Gracious powers! which erst have opened the lips of the +dumb in his distress, and made the tongue of the stammerer speak +plain——when I shall arrive at this dreaded page, deal not +with me, then, with a stinted hand.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXVI" id = "bookVI_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> corporal, who the night before +had resolved in his mind to supply the grand <i>desideratum</i>, of +keeping up something like an incessant firing upon the enemy during the +heat of the attack,—had no further idea in his fancy at that time, +than a contrivance +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page333" id = "page333">333</a></span> +of smoking tobacco against the town, out of one of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> six field-pieces, which were planted on each side of his +sentry-box; the means of effecting which occurring to his fancy at the +time same, though he had pledged his cap, he thought it in no danger +from the miscarriage of his projects.</p> + +<p>Upon turning it this way, and that, a little in his mind, he soon +began to find out, that by means of his two <i>Turkish</i> +tobacco-pipes, with the supplement of three smaller tubes of +wash-leather at each of their lower ends, to be tagg’d by the same +number of tin-pipes fitted to the touch-holes, and sealed with clay next +the cannon, and then tied hermetically with waxed silk at their several +insertions into the <i>Morocco</i> tube,—he should be able to fire +the six field-pieces all together, and with the same ease as to fire +<span class = "locked">one.———</span></p> + +<p>——Let no man say from what taggs and jaggs hints may not +be cut out for the advancement of human knowledge. Let no man, who has +read my father’s first and second <i>beds of justice</i>, ever rise up +and say again, from collision of what kinds of bodies light may or may +not be struck out, to carry the arts and sciences up to +perfection.——Heaven! thou knowest how I love +them;——thou knowest the secrets of my heart, and that I +would this moment give my shirt——Thou art a fool, +<i>Shandy</i>, says <i>Eugenius</i>, for thou hast but a dozen in the +world,—and ’twill break thy <span class = +"locked">set.——</span></p> + +<p>No matter for that, <i>Eugenius</i>; I would give the shirt off my +back to be burned into tinder, were it only to satisfy one feverish +enquirer, how many sparks at one good stroke, a good flint and +steel could strike into the tail of it.——Think ye not that +in striking these <i>in</i>,—he might, peradventure, strike +something <i>out?</i> as sure as a <span class = +"locked">gun.——</span></p> + +<p>——But this project, by the bye.</p> + +<p>The corporal sat up the best part of the night, in bringing +<i>his</i> to perfection; and having made a sufficient proof of his +cannon, with charging them to the top with tobacco,—he went with +contentment to bed.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXVII" id = "bookVI_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> corporal had slipped out about +ten minutes before my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in order to fix his apparatus, +and just give the enemy a shot or two before my uncle <i>Toby</i> +came.</p> + +<p>He had drawn the six field-pieces for this end, all close up +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page334" id = "page334">334</a></span> +together in front of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> sentry-box, leaving only an +interval of about a yard and a half betwixt the three, on the right and +left, for the convenience of charging, &c.—and the sake +possibly of two batteries, which he might think double the honour of +one.</p> + +<p>In the rear and facing this opening, with his back to the door of the +sentry-box, for fear of being flanked, had the corporal wisely taken his +post:——He held the ivory pipe, appertaining to the battery +on the right, betwixt the finger and thumb of his right hand,—and +the ebony pipe tipp’d with silver, which appertained to the battery on +the left, betwixt the finger and thumb of the other——and +with his right knee fixed firm upon the ground, as if in the front rank +of his platoon, was the corporal with his Montero-cap upon his head, +furiously playing off his two cross batteries at the same time against +the counter-guard, which faced the counter-scarp, where the attack was +to be made that morning. His first intention, as I said, was no more +than giving the enemy a single puff or two;—but the pleasure of +the <i>puffs</i>, as well as the <i>puffing</i>, had insensibly got hold +of the corporal, and drawn him on from puff to puff, into the very +height of the attack, by the time my uncle <i>Toby</i> joined him.</p> + +<p>’Twas well for my father, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> had not his will +to make that day.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXVIII" id = "bookVI_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby</i> took the ivory +pipe out of the corporal’s hand,—looked at it for half a minute, +and returned it.</p> + +<p>In less than two minutes, my uncle <i>Toby</i> took the pipe from the +corporal again, and raised it half way to his mouth——then +hastily gave it back a second time.</p> + +<p>The corporal redoubled the attack,——my uncle <i>Toby</i> +smiled,——then looked grave,——then smiled for a +moment,——then looked serious for a long +time;——Give me hold of the ivory pipe, <i>Trim</i>, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>——my uncle <i>Toby</i> put it to his +lips,——drew it back directly,—gave a peep over the +horn-beam hedge;——never did my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mouth +water so much for a pipe in his life.——My uncle <i>Toby</i> +retired into the sentry-box with the pipe in his <span class = +"locked">hand.———</span></p> + +<p>——Dear uncle <i>Toby!</i> don’t go into the sentry-box +with the pipe,—there’s no trusting a man’s self with such a thing +in such a corner.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page335" id = "page335">335</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXIX" id = "bookVI_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I beg</span> the reader will assist me +here, to wheel off my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> ordnance behind the +scenes,——to remove his sentry-box, and clear the theatre, +<i>if possible</i>, of horn-works and half moons, and get the rest of +his military apparatus out of the way;——that done, my dear +friend <i>Garrick</i>, we’ll snuff the candles bright,—sweep the +stage with a new broom,—draw up the curtain, and exhibit my uncle +<i>Toby</i> dressed in a new character, throughout which the world can +have no idea how he will act: and yet, if pity be a-kin to +love,—and bravery no alien to it, you have seen enough of my uncle +<i>Toby</i> in these, to trace these family likenesses betwixt the two +passions (in case there is one) to your heart’s content.</p> + +<p>Vain science! thou assistest us in no case of this kind—and +thou puzzlest us in every one.</p> + +<p>There was, Madam, in my uncle <i>Toby</i>, a singleness of heart +which misled him so far out of the little serpentine tracks in which +things of this nature usually go on; you can—you can have no +conception of it: with this, there was a plainness and simplicity of +thinking, with such an unmistrusting ignorance of the plies and foldings +of the heart of woman;——and so naked and defenceless did he +stand before you (when a siege was out of his head), that you might have +stood behind any one of your serpentine walks, and shot my uncle +<i>Toby</i> ten times in a day, through his liver, if nine times in a +day, Madam, had not served your purpose.</p> + +<p>With all this, Madam,—and what confounded everything as much on +the other hand, my uncle <i>Toby</i> had that unparalleled modesty of +nature I once told you of, and which, by the bye, stood eternal sentry +upon his feelings, that you might as soon——But where am I +going? these reflections crowd in upon me ten pages at least too soon, +and take up that time, which I ought to bestow upon facts.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXX" id = "bookVI_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Of</span> the few legitimate sons of +<i>Adam</i> whose breasts never felt what the sting of love +was,—(maintaining first, all mysogynists to be bastards)—the +greatest heroes of ancient and modern story have carried off amongst +them nine parts in ten of the honour; +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page336" id = "page336">336</a></span> +and I wish for their sakes I had the key of my study, out of my +draw-well, only for five minutes, to tell you their +names—recollect them I cannot—so be content to accept of +these, for the present, in their <span class = +"locked">stead.———</span></p> + +<p>There was the great king <i>Aldrovandus</i>, and <i>Bosphorus</i>, +and <i>Cappadocius</i>, and <i>Dardanus</i>, and <i>Pontus</i>, and +<i>Asius</i>,——to say nothing of the iron-hearted +<i>Charles</i> the XIIth, whom the Countess of K***** herself could make +nothing of.——There was <i>Babylonicus</i>, and +<i>Mediterraneus</i>, and <i>Polixenes</i>, and <i>Persicus</i>, and +<i>Prusicus</i>, not one of whom (except <i>Cappadocius</i> and +<i>Pontus</i>, who were both a little suspected) ever once bowed down +his breast to the goddess——The truth is, they had all of +them something else to do—and so had my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—till Fate—till Fate I say, envying his name the +glory of being handed down to posterity with <i>Aldrovandus’s</i> and +the rest,—she basely patched up the peace of <i>Utrecht</i>.</p> + +<p>——Believe me, Sirs, ’twas the worst deed she did that +year.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXI" id = "bookVI_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Amongst</span> the many ill consequences of +the treaty of <i>Utrecht</i>, it was within a point of giving my uncle +<i>Toby</i> a surfeit of sieges; and though he recovered his appetite +afterwards, yet <i>Calais</i> itself left not a deeper scar in +<i>Mary’s</i> heart, than <i>Utrecht</i> upon my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>. To +the end of his life he never could hear <i>Utrecht</i> mentioned upon +any account whatever,—or so much as read an article of news +extracted out of the <i>Utrecht Gazette</i>, without fetching a sigh, as +if his heart would break in twain.</p> + +<p>My father, who was a great <span class = +"smallroman">MOTIVE-MONGER</span>, and consequently a very dangerous +person for a man to sit by, either laughing or crying,—for he +generally knew your motive for doing both, much better than you knew it +yourself—would always console my uncle <i>Toby</i> upon these +occasions, in a way, which shewed plainly, he imagined my uncle +<i>Toby</i> grieved for nothing in the whole affair, so much as the loss +of his <i>hobby-horse</i>.——Never mind, brother <i>Toby</i>, +he would say,—by God’s blessing we shall have another war break +out again some of these days; and when it does,—the belligerent +powers, if they would hang themselves, cannot keep us out of +play.——I defy ’em, my dear <i>Toby</i>, he would add, +to take countries without taking towns,——or towns without +sieges.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> never took this back-stroke of my father’s at +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page337" id = "page337">337</a></span> +his hobby-horse kindly.——He thought the stroke ungenerous; +and the more so, because in striking the horse he hit the rider too, and +in the most dishonourable part a blow could fall; so that upon these +occasions, he always laid down his pipe upon the table with more fire to +defend himself than common.</p> + +<p>I told the reader, this time two years, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> was +not eloquent; and in the very same page gave an instance to the +contrary:——I repeat the observation, and a fact which +contradicts it again.—He was not eloquent,—it was not easy +to my uncle <i>Toby</i> to make long harangues,—and he hated +florid ones; but there were occasions where the stream overflowed the +man, and ran so counter to its usual course, that in some parts my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, for a time, was at least equal to +<i>Tertullus</i>——but in others, in my own opinion, +infinitely above him.</p> + +<p>My father was so highly pleased with one of these apologetical +orations of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>, which he had delivered one evening +before him and <i>Yorick</i>, that he wrote it down before he went to +bed.</p> + +<p>I have had the good fortune to meet with it amongst my father’s +papers, with here and there an insertion of his own, betwixt two crooks, +thus [  ], and is endorsed,</p> + +<h5>MY BROTHER TOBY’S JUSTIFICATION OF HIS OWN PRINCIPLES AND CONDUCT IN +WISHING TO CONTINUE THE WAR</h5> + +<p>I may safely say, I have read over this apologetical oration of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> a hundred times, and think it so fine a model of +defence,—and shows so sweet a temperament of gallantry and good +principles in him, that I give it the world, word for word +(interlineations and all), as I find it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXII" id = "bookVI_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + +<h5><a name = "bookVI_apology" id = "bookVI_apology"> +MY UNCLE TOBY’S APOLOGETICAL ORATION</a></h5> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I am</span> not insensible, brother +<i>Shandy</i>, that when a man whose profession is arms, wishes, as I +have done, for war,—it has an ill aspect to the +world;——and that, how just and right soever his motives and +intentions may be,—he stands in an uneasy posture in vindicating +himself from private views in doing it.</p> + +<p>For this cause, if a soldier is a prudent man, which he may be +without being a jot the less brave, he will be sure not to utter his +wish in the hearing of an enemy; for say what he will, an +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page338" id = "page338">338</a></span> +enemy will not believe him.——He will be cautious of doing it +even to a friend,—lest he may suffer in his +esteem:——But if his heart is overcharged, and a secret sigh +for arms must have its vent, he will reserve it for the ear of a +brother, who knows his character to the bottom, and what his true +notions, dispositions, and principles of honour are: What, +I <i>hope</i>, I have been in all these, brother +<i>Shandy</i>, would be unbecoming in me to say:——much +worse, I know, have I been than I ought,—and something worse, +perhaps, than I think: But such as I am, you, my dear brother +<i>Shandy</i>, who have sucked the same breasts with me,—and with +whom I have been brought up from my cradle,—and from whose +knowledge, from the first hours of our boyish pastimes, down to this, +I have concealed no one action of my life, and scarce a thought in +it——Such as I am, brother, you must by this time know me, +with all my vices, and with all my weaknesses too, whether of my age, my +temper, my passions, or my understanding.</p> + +<p>Tell me then, my dear brother <i>Shandy</i>, upon which of them it +is, that when I condemned the peace of <i>Utrecht</i>, and grieved the +war was not carried on with vigour a little longer, you should think +your brother did it upon unworthy views; or that in wishing for war, he +should be bad enough to wish more of his fellow-creatures +slain,—more slaves made, and more families driven from their +peaceful habitations, merely for his own pleasure:——Tell me, +brother <i>Shandy</i>, upon what one deed of mine do you ground it? +[<i>The devil a deed do I know of, dear <em>Toby</em>, but one for a +hundred pounds, which I lent thee to carry on these cursed +sieges.</i>]</p> + +<p>If, when I was a school-boy, I could not hear a drum beat, but my +heart beat with it—was it my fault? Did I plant the propensity +there?——Did I sound the alarm within, or Nature?</p> + +<p>When <i>Guy</i>, Earl of <i>Warwick</i>, and <i>Parismus</i> and +<i>Parismenus</i>, and <i>Valentine</i> and <i>Orson</i>, and the +<i>Seven Champions of England</i>, were handed around the +school,—were they not all purchased with my own pocket-money? Was +that selfish, brother <i>Shandy?</i> When we read over the siege of +<i>Troy</i>, which lasted ten years and eight +months,——though with such a train of artillery as we had at +<i>Namur</i>, the town might have been carried in a week—was I not +as much concerned for the destruction of the <i>Greeks</i> and +<i>Trojans</i> as any boy of the whole school? Had I not three strokes +of a ferula given me, two on my right hand, and one on my left, for +calling <i>Helena</i> a bitch for it? Did any one of you shed more tears +for <i>Hector?</i> And when king <i>Priam</i> came to +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page339" id = "page339">339</a></span> +the camp to beg his body, and returned weeping back to <i>Troy</i> +without it,—you know, brother, I could not eat my <span class += "locked">dinner.———</span></p> + +<p>——Did that bespeak me cruel? Or because, brother +<i>Shandy</i>, my blood flew out into the camp, and my heart panted for +war,—was it a proof it could not ache for the distresses of war +too?</p> + +<p>O brother! ’tis one thing for a soldier to gather laurels,—and +’tis another to scatter cypress.——[<i>Who told thee, my dear +<em>Toby</em>, that cypress was used by the antients on mournful +occasions?</i>]</p> + +<p>——’Tis one thing, brother <i>Shandy</i>, for a soldier to +hazard his own life—to leap first down into the trench, where he +is sure to be cut in pieces:——’Tis one thing, from public +spirit and a thirst of glory, to enter the breach the first +man,—To stand in the foremost rank, and march bravely on with +drums and trumpets, and colours flying about his ears:——’Tis +one thing, I say, brother <i>Shandy</i>, to do this,—and ’tis +another thing to reflect on the miseries of war;—to view the +desolations of whole countries, and consider the intolerable fatigues +and hardships which the soldier himself, the instrument who works them, +is forced (for sixpence a day, if he can get it) to undergo.</p> + +<p>Need I be told, dear <i>Yorick</i>, as I was by you, in <i>Le +Fever’s</i> funeral sermon, <i>That so soft and gentle a creature, born +to love, to mercy, and kindness, as man is, was not shaped for +this?</i>——But why did you not add, <i>Yorick</i>,—if +not by <span class = "smallroman">NATURE</span>—that he is so by +<span class = "smallroman">NECESSITY</span>?——For what is +war? what is it, <i>Yorick</i>, when fought as ours has been, upon +principles of <i>liberty</i>, and upon principles of +<i>honour</i>——what is it, but the getting together of quiet +and harmless people, with their swords in their hands, to keep the +ambitious and the turbulent within bounds? And heaven is my witness, +brother <i>Shandy</i>, that the pleasure I have taken in these +things,—and that infinite delight, in particular, which has +attended my sieges in my bowling-green, has arose within me, and I hope +in the corporal too, from the consciousness we both had, that in +carrying them on, we were answering the great ends of our creation.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXIII" id = "bookVI_chapXXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I told</span> the Christian +reader——I say <i>Christian</i>——hoping he is +one——and if he is not, I am sorry for +it——and only beg he will consider the matter with himself, +and not lay the blame entirely upon this <span class = +"locked">book——</span></p> + +<p>I told him, Sir——for in good truth, when a man is telling +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page340" id = "page340">340</a></span> +a story in the strange way I do mine, he is obliged continually to be +going backwards and forwards to keep all tight together in the reader’s +fancy——which, for my own part, if I did not take heed to do +more than at first, there is so much unfixed and equivocal matter +starting up, with so many breaks and gaps in it,—and so little +service do the stars afford, which, nevertheless, I hang up in some +of the darkest passages, knowing that the world is apt to lose its way, +with all the lights the sun itself at noon-day can give +it——and now you see, I am lost <span class = +"locked">myself!———</span></p> + +<p>——But ’tis my father’s fault; and whenever my brains come +to be dissected, you will perceive, without spectacles, that he has left +a large uneven thread, as you sometimes see in an unsaleable piece of +cambrick, running along the whole length of the web, and so untowardly, +you cannot so much as cut out a * *, (here I hang up a couple of +lights again)——or a fillet, or a thumb-stall, but it is seen +or <span class = "locked">felt.———</span></p> + +<p><i>Quanto id diligentius in liberis procreandis cavendum</i>, sayeth +<i>Cardan</i>. All which being considered, and that you see ’tis morally +impracticable for me to wind this round to where I set <span class = +"locked">out———</span></p> + +<p>I begin the chapter over again.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXIV" id = "bookVI_chapXXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I told</span> the Christian reader in the +beginning of the chapter which preceded my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +apologetical oration,—though in a different trope from what I +should make use of now, That the peace of <i>Utrecht</i> was within an +ace of creating the same shyness betwixt my uncle <i>Toby</i> and his +hobby-horse, as it did betwixt the queen and the rest of the +confederating powers.</p> + +<p>There is an indignant way in which a man sometimes dismounts his +horse, which as good as says to him, “I’ll go afoot, Sir, all the days +of my life, before I would ride a single mile upon your back again.” Now +my uncle <i>Toby</i> could not be said to dismount his horse in this +manner; for in strictness of language, he could not be said to dismount +his horse at all——his horse rather flung +him——and somewhat <i>viciously</i>, which made my uncle +<i>Toby</i> take it ten times more unkindly. Let this matter be settled +by state-jockies as they like.——It created, I say, +a sort of shyness betwixt my uncle <i>Toby</i> and his +hobby-horse.——He had no occasion for him from the month of +<i>March</i> +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page341" id = "page341">341</a></span> +to <i>November</i>, which was the summer after the articles were signed, +except it was now and then to take a short ride out, just to see that +the fortifications and harbour of <i>Dunkirk</i> were demolished, +according to stipulation.</p> + +<p>The <i>French</i> were so backwards all that summer in setting about +that affair, and Monsieur <i>Tugghe</i>, the Deputy from the magistrates +of <i>Dunkirk</i>, presented so many affecting petitions to the +queen,—beseeching her majesty to cause only her thunder-bolts to +fall upon the martial works, which might have incurred her +displeasure,—but to spare—to spare the mole, for the mole’s +sake; which, in its naked situation, could be no more than an object of +pity——and the queen (who was but a woman) being of a pitiful +disposition,—and her ministers also, they not wishing in their +hearts to have the town dismantled, for these private reasons, +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span> +——</p> + +<p>  +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span> +; so that the whole went heavily on with my uncle <i>Toby</i>; insomuch, +that it was not within three full months, after he and the corporal had +constructed the town, and put it in a condition to be destroyed, that +the several commandants, commissaries, deputies, negociators, and +intendants, would permit him to set about it.——Fatal +interval of inactivity!</p> + +<p>The corporal was for beginning the demolition, by making a breach in +the ramparts, or main fortifications of the +town——No,—that will never do, corporal, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, for in going that way to work with the town, the +<i>English</i> garrison will not be safe in it an hour; because if the +<ins class = "correction" +title = "printed in Roman (non-italic) type"><i>French</i></ins> are treacherous——They are as +treacherous as devils, an’ please your honour, said the +corporal——It gives me concern always when I hear it, +<i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>,—for they don’t want +personal bravery; and if a breach is made in the ramparts, they may +enter it, and make themselves masters of the place when they +please:——Let them enter it, said the corporal, lifting up +his pioneer’s spade in both his hands, as if he was going to lay about +him with it,—let them enter, an’ please your honour, if they +dare.——In cases like this, corporal, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, slipping his right hand down to the middle of his cane, and +holding it afterwards truncheon-wise with his forefinger +extended,——’tis no part of the consideration of a +commandant, what the enemy dare,—or what they dare not do; he must +act with prudence. We will begin with the outworks both towards the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page342" id = "page342">342</a></span> +sea and the land, and particularly with fort <i>Louis</i>, the most +distant of them all, and demolish it first,—and the rest, one by +one, both on our right and left, as we retreat towards the +town;——then we’ll demolish the mole,—next fill up the +harbour,—then retire into the citadel, and blow it up into the +air: and having done that, corporal, we’ll embark for +<i>England</i>.——We are there, quoth the corporal, +recollecting himself——Very true, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—looking at the church.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXV" id = "bookVI_chapXXXV"> +CHAPTER XXXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">A delusive</span>, delicious consultation +or two of this kind, betwixt my uncle <i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i>, upon +the demolition of <i>Dunkirk</i>,—for a moment rallied back the +ideas of those pleasures, which were slipping from under +him:——still—still all went on heavily——the +magic left the mind the weaker—<span class = +"smallcaps">Stillness</span>, with <span class = +"smallcaps">Silence</span> at her back, entered the solitary parlour, +and drew their gauzy mantle over my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +head;——and <span class = "smallcaps">Listlessness</span>, +with her lax fibre and undirected eye, sat quietly down beside him in +his arm-chair.——No longer <i>Amberg</i> and <i>Rhinberg</i>, +and <i>Limbourg</i>, and <i>Huy</i>, and <i>Bonn</i>, in one +year,—and the prospect of <i>Landen</i>, and <i>Trerebach</i>, and +<i>Drusen</i>, and <i>Dendermond</i>, the next,—hurried on the +blood:—No longer did saps, and mines, and blinds, and gabions, and +palisadoes, keep out this fair enemy of man’s repose:——No +more could my uncle <i>Toby</i>, after passing the <i>French</i> lines, +as he eat his egg at supper, from thence break into the heart of +<i>France</i>,—cross over the <i>Oyes</i>, and with all +<i>Picardie</i> open behind him, march up to the gates of <i>Paris</i>, +and fall asleep with nothing but ideas of glory:——No more +was he to dream he had fixed the royal standard upon the tower of the +<i>Bastile</i>, and awake with it streaming in his head.</p> + +<p>——Softer visions,—gentler vibrations stole sweetly +in upon his slumbers;—the trumpet of war fell out of his +hands,—he took up the lute, sweet instrument! of all others the +most delicate! the most difficult!——how wilt thou touch it, +my dear uncle <i>Toby?</i></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXVI" id = "bookVI_chapXXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span>, because I have once or twice +said, in my inconsiderate way of talking, That I was confident the +following memoirs of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> courtship of widow +<i>Wadman</i>, whenever I got time to write them, would turn out one of +the most complete systems, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page343" id = "page343">343</a></span> +both of the elementary and practical part of love and love-making, that +ever was addressed to the world——are you to imagine from +thence, that I shall set out with a description of <i>what love is?</i> +whether part God and part Devil, as <i>Plotinus</i> will have <span +class = "locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>——Or by a more critical equation, and supposing the whole +of love to be as ten——to determine with <i>Ficinus</i>, +“<i>How many parts of it—the one,—and how many the +other</i>;”—or whether it is <i>all of it one great Devil</i>, +from head to tail, as <i>Plato</i> has taken upon him to pronounce; +concerning which conceit of his, I shall not offer my +opinion:—but my opinion of <i>Plato</i> is this; that he appears, +from this instance, to have been a man of much the same temper and way +of reasoning with doctor <i>Baynyard</i>, who being a great enemy to +blisters, as imagining that half a dozen of ’em at once, would draw a +man as surely to his grave, as a herse and six—rashly concluded, +that the Devil himself was nothing in the world, but one great bouncing +<span class = +"locked"><i>Canthari[di]s</i>.———</span></p> + +<p>I have nothing to say to people who allow themselves this monstrous +liberty in arguing, but what <i>Nazianzen</i> cried out (<i>that is, +polemically</i>) to <span class = +"locked"><i>Philagrius</i>——</span></p> + +<p>“<ins class = "correction greek" +title = "Euge! [printed ῏Ευγε!]">Εὖγε!</ins>” <i>O rare! ’tis fine reasoning, Sir, +indeed!</i>—“<span class = "greek" +title = "hoti philosopheis en Pathesi">ὅτι <ins class = "correction" +title = "printed ‘φιλοσοφεἶς’">φιλοσοφεῖς</ins> ἐν Πάθεσι</span>”—<i>and most nobly +do you aim at truth, when you philosophize about it in your moods and +passions.</i></p> + +<p>Nor is it to be imagined, for the same reason, I should stop to +inquire, whether love is a disease,——or embroil myself with +<i>Rhasis</i> and <i>Dioscorides</i>, whether the seat of it is in the +brain or liver;—because this would lead me on, to an examination +of the two very opposite manners, in which patients have been +treated——the one, of <ins class = "correction" +title = "text unchanged: expected form ‘Æetius’"><i>Aætius</i></ins>, who always begun +with a cooling clyster of hempseed and bruised cucumbers;—and +followed on with thin potations of water-lillies and purslane—to +which he added a pinch of snuff of the herb <i>Hanea</i>;—and +where <i>Aætius</i> durst venture it,—his topaz-ring.</p> + +<p>——The other, that of <i>Gordonius</i>, who (in his cap. +15. <i>de Amore</i><ins class = "correction" +title = "close parenthesis missing at line-end">) </ins>directs they should be thrashed, “<i>ad +putorem usque</i>,”——till they stink again.</p> + +<p>These are disquisitions, which my father, who had laid in a great +stock of knowledge of this kind, will be very busy with in the progress +of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> affairs: I must anticipate thus much, +That from his theories of love, (with which, by the way, he contrived to +crucify my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mind, almost as much as his amours +themselves)—he took a single step into practice;—and by +means of a camphorated cerecloth, which he found +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page344" id = "page344">344</a></span> +means to impose upon the taylor for buckram, whilst he was making my +uncle <i>Toby</i> a new pair of breeches, he produced <i>Gordonius’s</i> +effect upon my uncle <i>Toby</i> without the disgrace.</p> + +<p>What changes this produced, will be read in its proper place: all +that is needful to be added to the anecdote, is this——That +whatever effect it had upon my uncle <i>Toby</i>,——it had a +vile effect upon the house;——and if my uncle <i>Toby</i> had +not smoaked it down as he did, it might have had a vile effect upon my +father too.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXVII" id = "bookVI_chapXXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXXVII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">’Twill</span> come out of +itself by and bye.——All I contend for is, that I am not +obliged to set out with a definition of what love is; and so long as I +can go on with my story intelligibly, with the help of the word itself, +without any other idea to it, than what I have in common with the rest +of the world, why should I differ from it a moment before the +time?——When I can get on no further,——and find +myself entangled on all sides of this mystic labyrinth,—my Opinion +will then come in, in course,—and lead me out.</p> + +<p>At present, I hope I shall be sufficiently understood, in telling the +reader, my uncle <i>Toby fell in love</i>:</p> + +<p>—Not that the phrase is at all to my liking: for to say a man +is <i>fallen</i> in love,—or that he is <i>deeply</i> in +love,—or <ins class = "correction" +title = "printed in plain (non-italic) type">up to the ears</ins> in love,—and sometimes +even <i>over head and ears in it</i>,—carries an idiomatical kind +of implication, that love is a thing <i>below</i> a man:—this is +recurring again to <i>Plato’s</i> opinion, which, with all his +divinityship,—I hold to be damnable and heretical:—and +so much for that.</p> + +<p>Let love therefore be what it will,—my uncle <i>Toby</i> fell +into it.</p> + +<p>——And possibly, gentle reader, with such a +temptation—so wouldst thou: For never did thy eyes behold, or thy +concupiscence covet anything in this world, more concupiscible than +widow <i>Wadman</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXVIII" id = "bookVI_chapXXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">To</span> conceive this right,—call +for pen and ink—here’s paper ready to your hand.——Sit +down, Sir, paint her to your own mind——as like your mistress +as you can——as unlike your wife as your conscience will let +you—’tis all one to me——please but your own fancy +in it.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page345" id = "page345">345</a></span> + +<img src = "images/onedot.gif" width = "12" height = "500" +alt = "[blank space]" /> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page346" id = "page346">346</a></span> +<p>———Was ever any thing in Nature so sweet!—so +exquisite!</p> + +<p>——Then, dear Sir, how could my uncle <i>Toby</i> resist +it?</p> + +<p>Thrice happy book! thou wilt have one page, at least, within thy +covers, which <span class = "smallcaps">Malice</span> will not blacken, +and which <span class = "smallcaps">Ignorance</span> cannot +misrepresent.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXXXIX" id = "bookVI_chapXXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> <i>Susannah</i> was informed by +an express from Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> falling +in love with her mistress fifteen days before it happened,—the +contents of which express, <i>Susannah</i> communicated to my mother the +next day,—it has just given me an opportunity of entering upon my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> amours a fortnight before their existence.</p> + +<p>I have an article of news to tell you, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, quoth my +mother, which will surprise you <span class = +"locked">greatly.——</span></p> + +<p>Now my father was then holding one of his second beds of justice, and +was musing within himself about the hardships of matrimony, as my mother +broke <span class = "locked">silence.———</span></p> + +<p>“——My brother <i>Toby</i>, quoth she, is going to be +married to Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>.”</p> + +<p>——Then he will never, quoth my father, be able to lie +<i>diagonally</i> in his bed again as long as he lives.</p> + +<p>It was a consuming vexation to my father, that my mother never asked +the meaning of a thing she did not understand.</p> + +<p>——That she is not a woman of science, my father would +say—is her misfortune—but she might ask a <span class = +"locked">question.—</span></p> + +<p>My mother never did.——In short, she went out of the world +at last without knowing whether it turned <i>round</i>, or stood +<i>still</i>.——My father had officiously told her above a +thousand times which way it was,—but she always forgot.</p> + +<p>For these reasons, a discourse seldom went on much further betwixt +them, than a proposition,—a reply, and a rejoinder; at the +end of which, it generally took breath for a few minutes (as in the +affair of the breeches), and then went on again.</p> + +<p>If he marries, ’twill be the worse for us,—quoth my mother.</p> + +<p>Not a cherry-stone, said my father,—he may as well batter away +his means upon that, as any thing else.</p> + +<p>——To be sure, said my mother: so here ended the +proposition,—the reply,—and the rejoinder, I told +you of.</p> + +<p>It will be some amusement to him, too,——said my +father.</p> + +<p>A very great one, answered my mother, if he should have +children.——</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page347" id = "page347">347</a></span> + +<p>——Lord have mercy upon me,—said my father to +himself—— +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * +* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span> +</p> + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVI_chapXL" id = "bookVI_chapXL"> +CHAPTER XL</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I am</span> now beginning to get fairly +into my work; and by the help of a vegetable diet, with a few of the +cold seeds, I make no doubt but I shall be able to go on with my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> story, and my own, in a tolerable strait line. +Now,</p> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pg347a.png" width = "466" height = "353" +alt = "squiggly lines captioned ‘Inv. T. S. / Scul. T. S.’" +title = "Inv. T. S. / Scul. T. S." /></p> + +<p>These were the four lines I moved in through my first, second, third, +and fourth volumes.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_6_4" id = "tag_6_4" href += "#note_6_4">4</a>—In the fifth volume I have been very +good,——the precise line I have described in it being +this:</p> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pg347b.png" width = "471" height = "134" +alt = "squiggly line marked A, B, CC CCC, D" +title = "A B CC CCC D" /></p> + +<p>By which it appears, that except at the curve, marked A, where +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page348" id = "page348">348</a></span> +I took a trip to <i>Navarre</i>,—and the indented curve <i>B</i>, +which is the short airing when I was there with the Lady +<i>Baussiere</i> and her page,—I have not taken the least +frisk of a digression, till <i>John de la Casse’s</i> devils led me the +round you see marked D.—for as for +<i>c c c c c</i> they are nothing but parentheses, +and the common <i>ins</i> and <i>outs</i> incident to the lives of the +greatest ministers of state; and when compared with what men have +done,—or with my own transgressions at the letters +A B D—they vanish into nothing.</p> + +<p>In this last volume I have done better still—for from the end +of <i>Le Fever’s</i> episode, to the beginning of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +campaigns,—I have scarce stepped a yard out of my way.</p> + +<p>If I mend at this rate, it is not impossible——by the good +leave of his grace of <i>Benevento’s</i> devils——but I may +arrive hereafter at the excellency of going on even thus:</p> + +<hr class = "solid" /> + +<p class = "continue"> +which is a line drawn as straight as I could draw it, by a +writing-master’s ruler (borrowed for that purpose), turning neither to +the right hand or to the left.</p> + +<p>This <i>right line</i>,—the path-way for Christians to walk in! +say <span class = "locked">divines——</span></p> + +<p>——The emblem of moral rectitude! says +<i>Cicero</i>——</p> + +<p>——The <i>best line!</i> say cabbage +planters——is the shortest line, says <i>Archimedes</i>, +which can be drawn from one given point to <span class = +"locked">another.——</span></p> + +<p>I wish your ladyships would lay this matter to heart, in your next +birth-day suits!</p> + +<p>——What a journey!</p> + +<p>Pray can you tell me,—that is, without anger, before I write my +chapter upon straight lines——by what +mistake——who told them so——or how it has come to +pass, that your men of wit and genius have all along confounded this +line, with the line of <span class = +"smallroman">GRAVITATION</span>?</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_6_1" id = "note_6_1" href = "#tag_6_1">1.</a> +In the first edition, the sixth volume began with this chapter.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_6_2" id = "note_6_2" href = "#tag_6_2">2.</a> +Nous aurions quelque interêt, says <i>Baillet</i>, de montrer qu’il n’a +rien de ridicule s’il étoit veritable, au moins dans le sens énigmatique +que <i>Nicius Erythræus</i> a tâché de lui donner. Cet auteur dit que +pour comprendre comme <i>Lipse</i>, il a pû composer un ouvrage le +premier jour de sa vie, il faut s’imaginer, que ce premier jour n’est +pas celui de sa naissance charnelle, mais celui au quel il a commencé +d’user de la raison; il veut que ç’ait été à l’âge de <i>neuf</i> ans; +et il nous veut persuader que ce fut en cet âge, que <i>Lipse</i> fit un +poëme.——Le tour est ingénieux, &c. &c.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_6_3" id = "note_6_3" href = "#tag_6_3">3.</a> +Vid. <i>Pellegrina</i>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_6_4" id = "note_6_4" href = "#tag_6_4">4.</a> +Alluding to the first edition.</p> + +</div> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page349" id = "page349">349</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookVII" id = "bookVII">BOOK VII</a></h3> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapI" id = "bookVII_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">No</span>——I think, I said, I +would write two volumes every year, provided the vile cough which then +tormented me, and which to this hour I dread worse than the devil, would +but give me leave—and in another place—(but where, +I can’t recollect now) speaking of my book as a <i>machine</i>, and +laying my pen and ruler down cross-wise upon the table, in order to gain +the greater credit to it—I swore it should be kept a going at +that rate these forty years, if it pleased but the fountain of life to +bless me so long with health and good spirits.</p> + +<p>Now as for my spirits, little have I to lay to their charge—nay +so very little (unless the mounting me upon a long stick and playing the +fool with me nineteen hours out of the twenty-four, be accusations) that +on the contrary, I have much—much to thank ’em for: cheerily +have ye made me tread the path of life with all the burthens of it +(except its cares) upon my back; in no one moment of my existence, that +I remember, have ye once deserted me, or tinged the objects which came +in my way, either with sable, or with a sickly green; in dangers ye +gilded my horizon with hope, and when <span class = +"smallcaps">Death</span> himself knocked at my door—ye bad him +come again; and in so gay a tone of careless indifference did ye do it, +that he doubted of his <span class = +"locked">commission——</span></p> + +<p>“—There must certainly be some mistake in this matter,” quoth +he.</p> + +<p>Now there is nothing in this world I abominate worse, than to be +interrupted in a story——and I was that moment telling +<i>Eugenius</i> a most tawdry one in my way, of a nun who fancied +herself a shell-fish, and of a monk damn’d for eating a muscle, and was +shewing him the grounds and justice of the <span class = +"locked">procedure——</span></p> + +<p>“—Did ever so grave a personage get into so vile a scrape?” +quoth Death. Thou hast had a narrow escape, <i>Tristram</i>, said +<i>Eugenius</i>, taking hold of my hand as I finished my <span class = +"locked">story——</span></p> + +<p>But there is no <i>living</i>, <i>Eugenius</i>, replied I, at this +rate; for as this <i>son of a whore</i> has found out my <span class = +"locked">lodgings——</span></p> + +<p>—You call him rightly, said <i>Eugenius</i>,—for by sin, +we are +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page350" id = "page350">350</a></span> +told, he enter’d the world——I care not which way he enter’d, +quoth I, provided he be not in such a hurry to take me out with +him—for I have forty volumes to write, and forty thousand things +to say and do which no body in the world will say and do for me, except +thyself; and as thou seest he has got me by the throat (for +<i>Eugenius</i> could scarce hear me speak across the table), and that I +am no match for him in the open field, had I not better, whilst these +few scatter’d spirits remain, and these two spider legs of mine (holding +one of them up to him) are able to support me—had I not better, +<i>Eugenius</i>, fly for my life? ’Tis my advice, my dear +<i>Tristram</i>, said <i>Eugenius</i>—Then by heaven! I will +lead him a dance he little thinks of——for I will gallop, +quoth I, without looking once behind me, to the banks of the +<i>Garonne</i>; and if I hear him clattering at my +heels——I’ll scamper away to mount +<i>Vesuvius</i>——from thence to <i>Joppa</i>, and from +<i>Joppa</i> to the world’s end; where, if he follows me, I pray +God he may break his <span class = +"locked">neck——</span></p> + +<p>—He runs more risk <i>there</i>, said <i>Eugenius</i>, than +thou.</p> + +<p><i>Eugenius’s</i> wit and affection brought blood into the cheek from +whence it had been some months banish’d——’twas a vile moment +to bid adieu in; he led me to my chaise——<i>Allons!</i> said +I; the postboy gave a crack with his whip——off I went like a +cannon, and in half a dozen bounds got into <i>Dover</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapII" id = "bookVII_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> hang it! quoth I, as I look’d +towards the <i>French</i> coast—a man should know something +of his own country too, before he goes abroad——and I never +gave a peep into <i>Rochester</i> church, or took notice of the dock of +<i>Chatham</i>, or visited St. <i>Thomas</i> at <i>Canterbury</i>, +though they all three laid in my <span class = +"locked">way——</span></p> + +<p>—But mine, indeed, is a particular case——</p> + +<p>So without arguing the matter further with <i>Thomas o’ Becket</i>, +or any one else—I skip’d into the boat, and in five minutes +we got under sail, and scudded away like the wind.</p> + +<p>Pray, captain, quoth I, as I was going down into the cabin, is a man +never overtaken by <i>Death</i> in this passage?</p> + +<p>Why, there is not time for a man to be sick in it, replied +he——What a cursed lyar! for I am sick as a horse, quoth I, +already——what a brain!——upside +down!——hey-day! the cells are broke loose one into another, +and the blood, and the lymph, and the nervous juices, with the fix’d and +volatile salts, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page351" id = "page351">351</a></span> +are all jumbled into one mass——good G—! everything +turns round in it like a thousand whirlpools——I’d give a +shilling to know if I shan’t write the clearer for <span class = +"locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>Sick! sick! sick! sick!——</p> + +<p>—When shall we get to land? captain—they have hearts like +stones——O I am deadly sick!——reach me that +thing, boy——’tis the most discomfiting +sickness——I wish I was at the bottom—Madam! how +is it with you? Undone! undone! un——O! undone! +sir——What the first time?——No, ’tis the second, +third, sixth, tenth time, sir,——hey-day!—what a +trampling over head!—hollo! cabin boy! what’s the <span class = +"locked">matter?—</span></p> + +<p>The wind chopp’d about! s’Death!—then I shall meet him full in +the face.</p> + +<p>What luck!—’tis chopp’d about again, master——O the +devil chop <span class = "locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>Captain, quoth she, for heaven’s sake, let us get ashore.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapIII" id = "bookVII_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is a great inconvenience to a man +in a haste, that there are three distinct roads between <i>Calais</i> +and <i>Paris</i>, in behalf of which there is so much to be said by the +several deputies from the towns which lie along them, that half a day is +easily lost in settling which you’ll take.</p> + +<p>First, the road by <i>Lisle</i> and <i>Arras</i>, which is the most +about——but most interesting and instructing.</p> + +<p>The second, that by <i>Amiens</i>, which you may go, if you would see +<span class = "locked"><i>Chantilly</i>——</span></p> + +<p>And that by <i>Beauvais</i>, which you may go, if you will.</p> + +<p>For this reason a great many chuse to go by <i>Beauvais</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapIV" id = "bookVII_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p>“<span class = "firstword">Now</span> before I quit <i>Calais</i>,” a +travel-writer would say, “it would not be amiss to give some account of +it.”—Now I think it very much amiss—that a man cannot go +quietly through a town and let it alone, when it does not meddle with +him, but that he must be turning about and drawing his pen at every +kennel he crosses over, merely o’ my conscience for the sake of drawing +it; because, if we may judge from what has been wrote of these things, +by all who have <i>wrote and gallop’d</i>—or who have +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page352" id = "page352">352</a></span> +<i>gallop’d and wrote</i>, which is a different way still; or who, for +more expedition than the rest, have <i>wrote galloping</i>, which is the +way I do at present——from the great <i>Addison</i>, who did +it with his satchel of school books hanging at his a—, and galling +his beast’s crupper at every stroke—there is not a gallopper of us +all who might not have gone on ambling quietly in his own ground +(in case he had any), and have wrote all he had to write, dryshod, +as well as not.</p> + +<p>For my own part, as heaven is my judge, and to which I shall ever +make my last appeal—I know no more of <i>Calais</i> (except +the little my barber told me of it as he was whetting his razor), than I +do this moment of <i>Grand Cairo</i>; for it was dusky in the evening +when I landed, and dark as pitch in the morning when I set out, and yet +by merely knowing what is what, and by drawing this from that in one +part of the town, and by spelling and putting this and that together in +another—I would lay any travelling odds, that I this moment +write a chapter upon <i>Calais</i> as long as my arm; and with so +distinct and satisfactory a detail of every item, which is worth a +stranger’s curiosity in the town—that you would take me for the +town-clerk of <i>Calais</i> itself—and where, sir, would be the +wonder? was not <i>Democritus</i>, who laughed ten times more than +I—town-clerk of <i>Abdera?</i> and was not (I forget his +name) who had more discretion than us both, town-clerk of +<i>Ephesus?</i>——it should be penn’d moreover, sir, with so +much knowledge and good sense, and truth, and <span class = +"locked">precision——</span></p> + +<p>—Nay—if you don’t believe me, you may read the chapter +for your pains.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapV" id = "bookVII_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Calais</span>, <i>Calatium</i>, +<i>Calusium</i>, <i>Calesium</i>.</p> + +<p>This town, if we may trust its archives, the authority of which I see +no reason to call in question in this place—was <i>once</i> no +more than a small village belonging to one of the first Counts de +<i>Guignes</i>; and as it boasts at present of no less than fourteen +thousand inhabitants, exclusive of four hundred and twenty distinct +families in the <i>basse ville</i>, or suburbs——it must have +grown up by little and little, I suppose, to its present size.</p> + +<p>Though there are four convents, there is but one parochial church in +the whole town; I had not an opportunity of taking its exact +dimensions, but it is pretty easy to make a tolerable conjecture of +’em—for as there are fourteen thousand inhabitants +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page353" id = "page353">353</a></span> +in the town, if the church holds them all it must be considerably +large—and if it will not—’tis a very great pity they have +not another—it is built in form of a cross, and dedicated to the +Virgin <i>Mary</i>; the steeple, which has a spire to it, is placed in +the middle of the church, and stands upon four pillars elegant and light +enough, but sufficiently strong at the same time—it is decorated +with eleven altars, most of which are rather fine than beautiful. The +great altar is a masterpiece in its kind; ’tis of white marble, and, as +I was told, near sixty feet high—had it been much higher, it had +been as high as mount <i>Calvary</i> itself—therefore, +I suppose it must be high enough in all conscience.</p> + +<p>There was nothing struck me more than the great <i>Square</i>; tho’ +I cannot say ’tis either well paved or well built; but ’tis in the +heart of the town, and most of the streets, especially those in that +quarter, all terminate in it; could there have been a fountain in all +<i>Calais</i>, which it seems there cannot, as such an object would have +been a great ornament, it is not to be doubted, but that the inhabitants +would have had it in the very centre of this square,—not that it +is properly a square,—because ’tis forty feet longer from east to +west, than from north to south; so that the <i>French</i> in general +have more reason on their side in calling them <i>Places</i> than +<i>Squares</i>, which, strictly speaking, to be sure, they are not.</p> + +<p>The town-house seems to be but a sorry building, and not to be kept +in the best repair; otherwise it had been a second great ornament to +this place; it answers however its destination, and serves very well for +the reception of the magistrates, who assemble in it from time to time; +so that ’tis presumable, justice is regularly distributed.</p> + +<p>I have heard much of it, but there is nothing at all curious in the +<i>Courgain</i>; ’tis a distinct quarter of the town, inhabited solely +by sailors and fishermen; it consists of a number of small streets, +neatly built and mostly of brick; ’tis extremely populous, but as that +may be accounted for, from the principles of their diet,—there is +nothing curious in that neither.——A traveller may see +it to satisfy himself—he must not omit however taking notice of +<i>La Tour de Guet</i>, upon any account; ’tis so called from its +particular destination, because in war it serves to discover and give +notice of the enemies which approach the place, either by sea or +land;——but ’tis monstrous high, and catches the eye so +continually, you cannot avoid taking notice of it if you would.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page354" id = "page354">354</a></span> +<p>It was a singular disappointment to me, that I could not have +permission to take an exact survey of the fortifications, which are the +strongest in the world, and which, from first to last, that is, from the +time they were set about by <i>Philip</i> of <i>France</i>, Count of +<i>Boulogne</i>, to the present war, wherein many reparations were made, +have cost (as I learned afterwards from an engineer in +<i>Gascony</i>)—above a hundred millions of livres. It is very +remarkable, that at the <i>Tête de Gravelenes</i>, and where the town is +naturally the weakest, they have expended the most money; so that the +out-works stretch a great way into the campaign, and consequently occupy +a large tract of ground—However, after all that is <i>said</i> and +<i>done</i>, it must be acknowledged that <i>Calais</i> was never upon +any account so considerable from itself, as from its situation, and that +easy entrance which it gave our ancestors, upon all occasions, into +<i>France</i>: it was not without its inconveniences also; being no less +troublesome to the <i>English</i> in those times, than <i>Dunkirk</i> +has been to us, in ours; so that it was deservedly looked upon as the +key to both kingdoms, which no doubt is the reason that there have +arisen so many contentions who should keep it: of these, the siege of +<i>Calais</i>, or rather the blockade (for it was shut up both by land +and sea), was the most memorable, as it withstood the efforts of +<i>Edward</i> the Third a whole year, and was not terminated at last but +by famine and extreme misery; the gallantry of <i>Eustace de St. +Pierre</i>, who first offered himself a victim for his fellow-citizens, +has rank’d his name with heroes. As it will not take up above fifty +pages, it would be injustice to the reader, not to give him a minute +account of that romantic transaction, as well as of the siege itself, in +<i>Rapin’s</i> own words:</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapVI" id = "bookVII_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">But</span> courage! gentle +reader!——I scorn it——’tis enough to have thee in +my power——but to make use of the advantage which the fortune +of the pen has now gained over thee, would be too +much——No——! by that all-powerful fire which +warms the visionary brain, and lights the spirits through unwordly +tracts! ere I would force a helpless creature upon this hard service, +and make thee pay, poor soul! for fifty pages, which I have no right to +sell thee,——naked as I am, I would browse upon the +mountains, and smile that the north wind brought me neither my tent or +my supper.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page355" id = "page355">355</a></span> +<p>—So put on, my brave boy! and make the best of thy way to +<i>Boulogne</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapVII" id = "bookVII_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = +"firstword">Boulogne</span>!——hah!——so we are +all got together——debtors and sinners before heaven; +a jolly set of us—but I can’t stay and quaff it off with +you—I’m pursued myself like a hundred devils, and shall be +overtaken, before I can well change horses:——for heaven’s +sake, make haste——’Tis for high-treason, quoth a very little +man, whispering as low as he could to a very tall man, that stood next +him——Or else for murder; quoth the tall +man——Well thrown, <i>Size-ace!</i> quoth I. No; quoth a +third, the gentleman has been committing——.</p> + +<p><i>Ah! ma chere fille!</i> said I, as she tripp’d by from her +matins—you look as rosy as the morning (for the sun was rising, +and it made the compliment the more gracious)—No; it can’t be +that, quoth a fourth——(she made a curt’sy to +me—I kiss’d my hand) ’tis debt, continued he: ’Tis certainly +for debt; quoth a fifth; I would not pay that gentleman’s debts, +quoth <i>Ace</i>, for a thousand pounds; nor would I, quoth <i>Size</i>, +for six times the sum—Well thrown, <i>Size-ace</i>, again! quoth +I;—but I have no debt but the debt of <span class = +"smallcaps">Nature</span>, and I want but patience of her, and I will +pay her every farthing I owe her——How can you be so +hard-hearted, <span class = "smallcaps">Madam</span>, to arrest a poor +traveller going along without molestation to any one upon his lawful +occasions? do stop that death-looking, long-striding scoundrel of a +scare-sinner, who is posting after me——he never would have +followed me but for you——if it be but for a stage or two, +just to give me start of him, I beseech you, madam——do, +dear <span class = "locked">lady——</span></p> + +<p>——Now, in troth, ’tis a great pity, quoth mine +<i>Irish</i> host, that all this good courtship should be lost; for the +young gentlewoman has been after going out of hearing of it all <span +class = "locked">along.——</span></p> + +<p>——Simpleton! quoth I.</p> + +<p>——So you have nothing <i>else</i> in <i>Boulogne</i> +worth seeing?</p> + +<p>—By Jasus! there is the finest <span class = +"smallcaps">Seminary</span> for the <span class = +"smallcaps">Humanities</span>——</p> + +<p>—There cannot be a finer; quoth I.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page356" id = "page356">356</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapVIII" id = "bookVII_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> the precipitancy of a man’s +wishes hurries on his ideas ninety times faster than the vehicle he +rides in—woe be to truth! and woe be to the vehicle and its +tackling (let ’em be made of what stuff you will) upon which he breathes +forth the disappointment of his soul!</p> + +<p>As I never give general characters either of men or things in choler, +“<i>the most haste the worst speed</i>,” was all the reflection I made +upon the affair, the first time it happen’d;—the second, third, +fourth, and fifth time, I confined it respectively to those times, +and accordingly blamed only the second, third, fourth, and fifth +post-boy for it, without carrying my reflections further; but the event +continuing to befal me from the fifth, to the sixth, seventh, eighth, +ninth, and tenth time, and without one exception, I then could not +avoid making a national reflection of it, which I do in these words;</p> + +<p><i>That something is always wrong in a French post-chaise, upon first +setting out.</i></p> + +<p>Or the proposition may stand thus:</p> + +<p><i>A French postilion has always to alight before he has got three +hundred yards out of town.</i></p> + +<p>What’s wrong now?——Diable!——a rope’s +broke!——a knot has slipt!——a staple’s +drawn!——a bolt’s to whittle!——a tag, +a rag, a jag, a strap, a buckle, or a buckle’s +tongue, want altering.</p> + +<p>Now true as all this is, I never think myself impowered to +excommunicate thereupon either the post-chaise, or its +driver——nor do I take it into my head to swear by the +living G—, I would rather go a-foot ten thousand +times——or that I will be damn’d, if ever I get into +another——but I take the matter coolly before me, and +consider, that some tag, or rag, or jag, or bolt, or buckle, or buckle’s +tongue, will ever be a wanting, or want altering, travel where I +will—so I never chaff, but take the good and the bad as they fall +in my road, and get on:——Do so, my lad! said I; he had lost +five minutes already, in alighting in order to get at a luncheon of +black bread, which he had cramm’d into the chaise-pocket, and was +remounted, and going leisurely on, to relish it the +better——Get on, my lad, said I, briskly—but in the +most persuasive tone imaginable, for I jingled a four-and-twenty sous +piece against the glass, taking +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page357" id = "page357">357</a></span> +care to hold the flat side towards him, as he look’d back: the dog +grinn’d intelligence from his right ear to his left, and behind his +sooty muzzle discovered such a pearly row of teeth, that +<i>Sovereignty</i> would have pawn’d her jewels for <span class = +"locked">them.——</span></p> + +<table class = "inline" summary = "aligned text"> +<tr> +<td class = "bracket rgt"> +Just heaven!</td> +<td> +What masticators!—<br /> +What bread!— +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>and so as he finished the last mouthful of it, we entered the town of +<i>Montreuil</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapIX" id = "bookVII_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> is not a town in all +<i>France</i>, which, in my opinion, looks better in the map, than <span +class = "smallcaps">Montreuil</span>;——I own, it does +not look so well in the book of post-roads; but when you come to see +it—to be sure it looks most pitifully.</p> + +<p>There is one thing, however, in it at present very handsome; and that +is, the inn-keeper’s daughter: She has been eighteen months at +<i>Amiens</i>, and six at <i>Paris</i>, in going through her classes; so +knits, and sews, and dances, and does the little coquetries very <span +class = "locked">well.——</span></p> + +<p>—A slut! in running them over within these five minutes that I +have stood looking at her, she has let fall at least a dozen loops in a +white thread stocking——yes, yes—I see, you +cunning gipsy!—’tis long and taper—you need not pin it to +your knee—and that ’tis your own—and fits you <span class = +"locked">exactly.——</span></p> + +<p>——That Nature should have told this creature a word about +a <i>statue’s thumb!</i></p> + +<p>—But as this sample is worth all their +thumbs——besides, I have her thumbs and fingers in at +the bargain, if they can be any guide to me,—and as +<i>Janatone</i> withal (for that is her name) stands so well for a +drawing——may I never draw more, or rather may I draw like a +draught-horse, by main strength all the days of my life,—if I do +not draw her in all her proportions, and with as determined a pencil, as +if I had her in the wettest <span class = +"locked">drapery.——</span></p> + +<p>—But your worships chuse rather that I give you the length, +breadth, and perpendicular height of the great parish-church, or drawing +of the façade of the abbey of Saint <i>Austerberte</i> which has been +transported from <i>Artois</i> hither—everything is just I suppose +as the masons and carpenters left them,—and if the belief in +<i>Christ</i> continues so long, will be so these fifty years to +come—so your worships and reverences may all measure them +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page358" id = "page358">358</a></span> +at your leisures——but he who measures thee, <i>Janatone</i>, +must do it now—thou carriest the principles of change within thy +frame; and considering the chances of a transitory life, I would +not answer for thee a moment; ere twice twelve months are passed and +gone, thou mayest grow out like a pumpkin, and lose thy +shapes——or thou mayest go off like a flower, and lose thy +beauty—nay, thou mayest go off like a hussy—and lose +thyself.—I would not answer for my aunt <i>Dinah</i>, was she +alive——’faith, scarce for her picture——were it +but painted by <span class = "locked"><i>Reynolds</i>—</span></p> + +<p>But if I go on with my drawing, after naming that son of +<i>Apollo</i>, I’ll be <span class = +"locked">shot——</span></p> + +<p>So you must e’en be content with the original; which, if the evening +is fine in passing thro’ <i>Montreuil</i>, you will see at your +chaise-door, as you change horses: but unless you have as bad a reason +for haste as I have—you had better stop:——She has a +little of the <i>devote</i>: but that, sir, is a terce to a nine in your +<span class = "locked">favour———</span></p> + +<p>—L—help me! I could not count a single point: so had been +piqued and repiqued, and capotted to the devil.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapX" id = "bookVII_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">All</span> which being considered, and that +Death moreover might be much nearer me than I +imagined——I wish I was at <i>Abbeville</i>, quoth I, +were it only to see how they card and spin——so off we +set.</p> + +<p><a class = "tag" name = "tag_7_1" id = "tag_7_1" href = +"#note_7_1">1</a><i>de Montreuil à Nampont - poste et demi</i><br /> +<i>de Nampont</i> à Bernay - - - poste<br /> +de Bernay à Nouvion - - - poste<br /> +de Nouvion à <span class = "smallcaps">Abbeville</span> - - +poste</p> + +<p>——but the carders and spinners were all gone to bed.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXI" id = "bookVII_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">What</span> a vast advantage is travelling! +only it heats one; but there is a remedy for that, which you may pick +out of the next chapter.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page359" id = "page359">359</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXII" id = "bookVII_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Was</span> I in a condition to stipulate +with Death, as I am this moment with my apothecary, how and where I will +take his clyster——I should certainly declare against +submitting to it before my friends; and therefore I never seriously +think upon the mode and manner of this great catastrophe, which +generally takes up and torments my thoughts as much as the catastrophe +itself; but I constantly draw the curtain across it with this wish, that +the Disposer of all things may so order it, that it happen not to me in +my own house——but rather in some decent inn——at +home, I know it,——the concern of my friends, and the +last services of wiping my brows, and smoothing my pillow, which the +quivering hand of pale affection shall pay me, will so crucify my soul; +that I shall die of a distemper which my physician is not aware of: but +in an inn, the few cold offices I wanted, would be purchased with a few +guineas, and paid me with an undisturbed, but punctual +attention——but mark. This inn should not be the inn at +<i>Abbeville</i>——if there was not another inn in the +universe, I would strike that inn out of the +capitulation: so</p> + +<p>Let the horses be in the chaise exactly by four in the +morning——Yes, by four, Sir,——or by +<i>Genevieve!</i> I’ll raise a clatter in the house shall wake the +dead.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXIII" id = "bookVII_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p>“<i><span class = "firstword">Make</span> them like unto a +wheel</i>,” is a bitter sarcasm, as all the learned know, against the +<i>grand tour</i>, and that restless spirit for making it, which +<i>David</i> prophetically foresaw would haunt the children of men in +the latter days; and therefore, as thinketh the great bishop +<i>Hall</i>, ’tis one of the severest imprecations which <i>David</i> +ever utter’d against the enemies of the Lord—and, as if he had +said, “I wish them no worse luck than always to be rolling +about”—So much motion, continues he (for he was very +corpulent)—is so much unquietness; and so much of rest, by the +same analogy, is so much of heaven.</p> + +<p>Now, I (being very thin) think differently; and that so much of +motion, is so much of life, and so much of joy——and that to +stand still, or get on but slowly, is death and the <span class = +"locked">devil——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page360" id = "page360">360</a></span> +<p>Hollo! Ho!——the whole world’s asleep!——bring +out the horses——grease the wheels—tie on the +mail——and drive a nail into that moulding——I’ll +not lose a <span class = "locked">moment——</span></p> + +<p>Now the wheel we are talking of, and <i>whereinto</i> (but not +<i>whereunto</i>, for that would make an Ixion’s wheel of it) he +curseth his enemies, according to the bishop’s habit of body, should +certainly be a post-chaise wheel, whether they were set up in +<i>Palestine</i> at that time or not——and my wheel, for the +contrary reasons, must as certainly be a cart-wheel groaning round its +revolution once in an age; and of which sort, were I to turn +commentator, I should make no scruple to affirm, they had great +store in that hilly country.</p> + +<p>I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever I dare tell my dear +<i>Jenny</i>) for their “<span class = "greek" +title = "chôrismon apo tou Sômatos, eis to kalôs philosophein">χωρισμὸν ἀπὸ τοῦ Σώματος, εἰς τὸ +καλῶς φιλοσοφεῖν</span>”——[their] “<i>getting out of the +body, in order to think well</i>.” No man thinks right, whilst he is in +it; blinded as he must be, with his congenial humours, and drawn +differently aside, as the bishop and myself have been, with too lax or +too tense a fibre——<span class = "smallcaps">Reason</span> +is, half of it, <span class = "smallcaps">Sense</span>; and the measure +of heaven itself is but the measure of our present appetites and <span +class = "locked">concoctions——</span></p> + +<p>——But which of the two, in the present case, do you think +to be mostly in the wrong?</p> + +<p>You, certainly: quoth she, to disturb a whole family so early.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXIV" id = "bookVII_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p>——But she did not know I was under a vow not to shave my +beard till I got to <i>Paris</i>;——yet I hate to make +mysteries of nothing;——’tis the cold cautiousness of one of +those little souls from which <i>Lessius</i> (<i>lib.</i> 13, <i>de +moribus divinis, cap.</i> 24) hath made his estimate, wherein he +setteth forth, That one <i>Dutch</i> mile, cubically multiplied, will +allow room enough, and to spare, for eight hundred thousand millions, +which he supposes to be as great a number of souls (counting from the +fall of <i>Adam</i>) as can possibly be damn’d to the end of the +world.</p> + +<p>From what he has made this second estimate——unless from +the parental goodness of God—I don’t know—I am +much more at a loss what could be in <i>Franciscus Ribbera’s</i> head, +who pretends that no less a space than one of two hundred <i>Italian</i> +miles multiplied into itself, will be sufficient to hold the like +number——he certainly must have gone upon some of the old +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page361" id = "page361">361</a></span> +<i>Roman</i> souls, of which he had read, without reflecting how much, +by a gradual and most tabid decline, in the course of eighteen hundred +years, they must unavoidably have shrunk so as to have come, when he +wrote, almost to nothing.</p> + +<p>In <i>Lessius’s</i> time, who seems the cooler man, they were as +little as can be <span class = +"locked">imagined——</span></p> + +<p>——We find them less <i>now</i>——</p> + +<p>And next winter we shall find them less again; so that if we go on +from little to less, and from less to nothing, I hesitate not one +moment to affirm, that in half a century, at this rate, we shall have no +souls at all; which being the period beyond which I doubt likewise of +the existence of the Christian faith, ’twill be one advantage that both +of ’em will be exactly worn out together.</p> + +<p>Blessed <i>Jupiter!</i> and blessed every other heathen god and +goddess! for now ye will all come into play again, and with +<i>Priapus</i> at your tails——what jovial +times!——but where am I? and into what a delicious riot of +things am I rushing? I——I who must be cut short in the +midst of my days, and taste no more of ’em than what I borrow from my +imagination——peace to thee, generous fool! and let me +go on.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXV" id = "bookVII_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p>———“<span class = "firstword">So</span> hating, I +say, to make mysteries of <i>nothing</i>”——I intrusted +it with the post-boy, as soon as ever I got off the stones; he gave a +crack with his whip to balance the compliment; and with the thill-horse +trotting, and a sort of an up and a down of the other, we danced it +along to <i>Ailly au clochers</i>, famed in days of yore for the finest +chimes in the world; but we danced through it without music—the +chimes being greatly out of order—(as in truth they were +through all <i>France</i>).</p> + +<p>And so making all possible speed, from</p> + +<p><i>Ailly au clochers</i>, I got to <i>Hixcourt</i>,</p> +<p>from <i>Hixcourt</i>, I got to <i>Pequignay</i>, and</p> +<p>from <i>Pequignay</i>, I got to <span class = +"smallcaps">Amiens</span>,</p> + +<p>concerning which town I have nothing to inform you, but what I have +informed you once before——and that was—that +<i>Janatone</i> went there to school.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page362" id = "page362">362</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXVI" id = "bookVII_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> the whole catalogue of those +whiffling vexations which come puffing across a man’s canvass, there is +not one of a more teasing and tormenting nature, than this particular +one which I am going to describe——and for which (unless you +travel with an avance-courier, which numbers do in order to +prevent it)——there is no help: and it is this.</p> + +<p>That be you in never so kindly a propensity to +sleep——tho’ you are passing perhaps through the finest +country—upon the best roads, and in the easiest carriage for doing +it in the world——nay, was you sure you could sleep fifty +miles straight forwards, without once opening your eyes—nay, what +is more, was you as demonstratively satisfied as you can be of any truth +in <i>Euclid</i>, that you should upon all accounts be full as well +asleep as awake——nay, perhaps better——Yet the +incessant returns of paying for the horses at every +stage,——with the necessity thereupon of putting your hand +into your pocket, and counting out from thence three livres fifteen sous +(sous by sous), puts an end to so much of the project, that you cannot +execute above six miles of it (or supposing it is a post and a +half, that is but nine)——were it to save your soul from +destruction.</p> + +<p>—I’ll be even with ’em, quoth I, for I’ll put the precise sum +into a piece of paper, and hold it ready in my hand all the way: “Now I +shall have nothing to do,” said I (composing myself to rest), “but to +drop this gently into the post-boy’s hat, and not say a +word.”——Then there wants two sous more to +drink——or there is a twelve sous piece of <i>Louis</i> XIV. +which will not pass—or a livre and some odd liards to be brought +over from the last stage, which Monsieur had forgot; which altercations +(as a man cannot dispute very well asleep) rouse him: still is +sweet sleep retrievable; and still might the flesh weigh down the +spirit, and recover itself of these blows—but then, by heaven! you +have paid but for a single post—whereas ’tis a post and a half; +and this obliges you to pull out your book of post-roads, the print of +which is so very small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you +will or no: Then Monsieur <i>le Curé</i> offers you a pinch of +snuff——or a poor soldier shews you his leg——or a +shaveling his box——or the priestess of the cistern will +water your wheels——they do not want it——but she +swears by her <i>priesthood</i> (throwing it back) that they +do:——then you have all these points to argue, or consider +over in your mind; in doing of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page363" id = "page363">363</a></span> +which, the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened——you +may get ’em to sleep again as you can.</p> + +<p>It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes, or I had pass’d +clean by the stables of <span class = +"locked"><i>Chantilly</i>——</span></p> + +<p>——But the postilion first affirming, and then persisting +in it to my face, that there was no mark upon the two sous piece, +I open’d my eyes to be convinced—and seeing the mark upon it +as plain as my nose—I leap’d out of the chaise in a passion, +and so saw everything at <i>Chantilly</i> in +spite.——I tried it but for three posts and a half, but +believe ’tis the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; +for as few objects look very inviting in that mood—you have little +or nothing to stop you; by which means it was that I passed through St. +<i>Dennis</i>, without turning my head so much as on one side towards +the <span class = "locked">Abby——</span></p> + +<p>——Richness of their treasury! stuff and +nonsense!——bating their jewels, which are all false, +I would not give three sous for any one thing in it, but +<i>Jaidas’s lantern</i>——nor for that either, only as it +grows dark, it might be of use.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXVII" id = "bookVII_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Crack</span>, crack——crack, +crack——crack, crack——so this is <i>Paris!</i> +quoth I (continuing in the same mood)—and this is +<i>Paris!</i>——humph!——<i>Paris!</i> cried I, +repeating the name the third <span class = +"locked">time——</span></p> + +<p>The first, the finest, the most brilliant——</p> + +<p>The streets however are nasty.</p> + +<p>But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells——crack, +crack——crack, crack——what a fuss thou +makest!—as if it concerned the good people to be informed, that a +man with pale face and clad in black, had the honour to be driven into +<i>Paris</i> at nine o’clock at night, by a postilion in a tawny yellow +jerkin, turned up with red calamanco—crack, +crack——crack, crack——crack, +crack,——I wish thy <span class = +"locked">whip——</span></p> + +<p>——But ’tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack—crack +on.</p> + +<p>Ha!——and no one gives the wall!——but in the +<span class = "smallcaps">School</span> of <span class = +"smallcaps">Urbanity</span> herself, if the walls are besh-t—how +can you do otherwise?</p> + +<p>And prithee when do they light the lamps? What?—never in the +summer months!——Ho! ’tis the time of sallads.——O +rare! sallad and soup—soup and sallad—sallad and soup, <span +class = "locked"><i>encore</i>——</span></p> + +<p>——’Tis <i>too much</i> for sinners.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page364" id = "page364">364</a></span> +<p>Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can that unconscionable +coachman talk so much bawdy to that lean horse? don’t you see, friend, +the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room in all +<i>Paris</i> to turn a wheelbarrow? In the grandest city of the whole +world, it would not have been amiss, if they had been left a thought +wider; nay, were it only so much in every single street, as that a man +might know (was it only for satisfaction) on which side of it he was +walking.</p> + +<p>One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—ten.—Ten +cook’s shops! and twice the number of barbers! and all within three +minutes driving! one would think that all the cooks in the world, on +some great merry-meeting with the barbers, by joint consent had +said—Come, let us all go live at <i>Paris</i>: the <i>French</i> +love good eating——they are all +<i>gourmands</i>——we shall rank high; if their god is their +belly——their cooks must be gentlemen: and forasmuch as +<i>the periwig maketh the man</i>, and the periwig-maker maketh the +periwig—<i>ergo</i>, would the barbers say, we shall rank higher +still—we shall be above you all—we shall be +<i>Capitouls</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_7_2" id = "tag_7_2" href = +"#note_7_2">2</a> at least—<i>pardi!</i> we shall all wear <span +class = "locked">swords——</span></p> + +<p>—And so, one would swear (that is, by candle light,—but +there is no depending upon it) they continue to do, to this +day.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXVIII" id = "bookVII_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> <i>French</i> are certainly +misunderstood:——but whether the fault is theirs, in not +sufficiently explaining themselves; or speaking with that exact +limitation and precision which one would expect on a point of such +importance, and which, moreover, is so likely to be contested by +us——or whether the fault may not be altogether on our side, +in not understanding their language always so critically as to know +“what they would be at”——I shall not decide; but ’tis +evident to me, when they affirm, “<i>That they who have seen +<em>Paris</em>, have seen everything</i>,” they must mean to speak of +those who have seen it by day-light.</p> + +<p>As for candle-light—I give it up——I have said +before, there was no depending upon it—and I repeat it again; but +not because the lights and shades are too sharp—or the tints +confounded—or that there is neither beauty or keeping, &c. +. . . for that’s not truth—but it is an uncertain light +in this respect, That in all the five hundred grand Hôtels, which they +number up +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page365" id = "page365">365</a></span> +to you in <i>Paris</i>—and the five hundred good things, at a +modest computation (for ’tis only allowing one good thing to a Hôtel), +which by candle-light are best to be <i>seen</i>, <i>felt</i>, +<i>heard</i>, and <i>understood</i> (which, by the bye, is a quotation +from <i>Lilly</i>)——the devil a one of us out of fifty, can +get our heads fairly thrust in amongst them.</p> + +<p>This is no part of the <i>French</i> computation: ’tis simply +this,</p> + +<p>That by the last survey taken in the year one thousand seven hundred +and sixteen, since which time there have been considerable +argumentations, <i>Paris</i> doth contain nine hundred streets; +(viz.)</p> + +<p>In the quarter called the <i>City</i>—there are fifty-three +streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>James</i> of the Shambles, fifty-five streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Oportune</i>, thirty-four streets.</p> + +<p>In the quarter of the <i>Louvre</i>, twenty-five streets.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Palace Royal</i>, or St. <i>Honorius</i>, forty-nine +streets.</p> + +<p>In <i>Mont. Martyr</i>, forty-one streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Eustace</i>, twenty-nine streets.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Halles</i>, twenty-seven streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Dennis</i>, fifty-five streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Martin</i>, fifty-four streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Paul</i>, or the <i>Mortellerie</i>, twenty-seven +streets.</p> + +<p>The <i>Greve</i>, thirty-eight streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Avoy</i>, or the <i>Verrerie</i>, nineteen streets.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Marais</i>, or the <i>Temple</i>, fifty-two streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Antony’s</i>, sixty-eight streets.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Place Maubert</i>, eighty-one streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Bennet</i>, sixty streets.</p> + +<p>In St. <i>Andrews de Arcs</i>, fifty-one streets.</p> + +<p>In the quarter of the <i>Luxembourg</i>, sixty-two streets.</p> + +<p>And in that of St. Germain, fifty-five streets, into any of which you +may walk; and that when you have seen them with all that belongs to +them, fairly by day-light—their gates, their bridges, their +squares, their statues - - - and have crusaded it moreover, through all +their parish-churches, by no means omitting St. <i>Roche</i> and +<i>Sulpice</i> - - - and to crown all, have taken a walk to the four +palaces, which you may see, either with or without the statues and +pictures, just as you <span class = "locked">chuse—</span></p> + +<p>——Then you will have seen——</p> + +<p>——but, ’tis what no one needeth to tell you, for you will +read of it yourself upon the portico of the <i>Louvre</i>, in these +words,</p> + +<div class = "verse smallroman"> +<p><a class = "tag" name = "tag_7_3" id = "tag_7_3" href = +"#note_7_3">3</a>EARTH <ins class = "correction" +title = "text reads ‘N O’">NO</ins> SUCH FOLKS!—NO FOLKS E’ER SUCH A TOWN</p> +<p>AS PARIS IS!—SING, DERRY, DERRY, DOWN.</p> +</div> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page366" id = "page366">366</a></span> +<p>The <i>French</i> have a <i>gay</i> way of treating everything that +is Great; and that is all can be said upon it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXIX" id = "bookVII_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> mentioning the word <i>gay</i> +(as in the close of the last chapter) it puts one (<i>i.e.</i> an +author) in mind of the word <i>spleen</i>——especially if he +has anything to say upon it: not that by any analysis—or that from +any table of interest or genealogy, there appears much more ground of +alliance betwixt them, than betwixt light and darkness, or any two of +the most unfriendly opposites in nature——only ’tis an +undercraft of authors to keep up a good understanding amongst words, as +politicians do amongst men—not knowing how near they may be under +a necessity of placing them to each other——which point being +now gain’d, and that I may place mine exactly to my mind, I write +it down <span class = "locked">here—</span></p> + +<h5>SPLEEN</h5> + +<p>This, upon leaving <i>Chantilly</i>, I declared to be the best +principle in the world to travel speedily upon; but I gave it only as +matter of opinion. I still continue in the same +sentiments—only I had not then experience enough of its working to +add this, that though you do get on at a tearing rate, yet you get on +but uneasily to yourself at the same time; for which reason I here quit +it entirely, and for ever, and ’tis heartily at any one’s +service—it has spoiled me the digestion of a good supper, and +brought on a bilious diarrhœa, which has brought me back again to my +first principle on which I set out——and with which I shall +now scamper it away to the banks of the <span class = +"locked"><i>Garonne</i>—</span></p> + +<p>——No;——I cannot stop a moment to give you the +character of the people—their genius——their +manners—their customs—their laws——their +religion—their government—their manufactures—their +commerce—their finances, with all the resources and hidden springs +which sustain them: qualified as I may be, by spending three days and +two nights amongst them, and during all that time making these things +the entire subject of my enquiries and <span class = +"locked">reflections——</span></p> + +<p>Still—still I must away——the roads are +paved—the posts are short—the days are long—’tis no +more than noon—I shall be at <i>Fontainbleau</i> before the +<span class = "locked">king——</span></p> + +<p>—Was he going there? not that I know——</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page367" id = "page367">367</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXX" id = "bookVII_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> I hate to hear a person, +especially if he be a traveller, complain that we do not get on so fast +in <i>France</i> as we do in <i>England</i>; whereas we get on much +faster, <i>consideratis considerandis</i>; thereby always meaning, that +if you weigh their vehicles with the mountains of baggage which you lay +both before and behind upon them—and then consider their puny +horses, with the very little they give them—’tis a wonder they get +on at all: their suffering is most unchristian, and ’tis evident +thereupon to me, that a <i>French</i> post-horse would not know what in +the world to do, was it not for the two words ****** +and ****** in which there is as much sustenance, as if you gave him a +peck of corn: now as these words cost nothing, I long from my soul +to tell the reader what they are; but here is the question—they +must be told him plainly, and with the most distinct articulation, or it +will answer no end—and yet to do it in that plain way—though +their reverences may laugh at it in the bed-chamber—fell well I +wot, they will abuse it in the parlour: for which cause, I have +been volving and revolving in my fancy some time, but to no purpose, by +what clean device or facette contrivance I might so modulate them, that +whilst I satisfy <i>that ear</i> which the reader chuses to <i>lend</i> +me—I might not dissatisfy the other which he keeps to +himself.</p> + +<p>——My ink burns my finger to try——and when I +have——’twill have a worse consequence——it will +burn (I fear) my paper.</p> + +<p>——No;——I dare not——</p> + +<p>But if you wish to know how the <i>abbess</i> of <i>Andoüillets</i> +and a novice of her convent got over the difficulty (only first wishing +myself all imaginable success)—I’ll tell you without the least +scruple. <!-- no scruples maybe, but at least 1,000 emdashes --></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXI" id = "bookVII_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> abbess of <i>Andoüillets</i>, +which, if you look into the large set of provincial maps now publishing +at <i>Paris</i>, you will find situated amongst the hills which divide +<i>Burgundy</i> from <i>Savoy</i>, being in danger of an +<i>Anchylosis</i> or stiff joint (the <i>sinovia</i> of her knee +becoming hard by long matins), and having tried every +remedy——first, prayers and thanksgiving; then invocations +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page368" id = "page368">368</a></span> +to all the saints in heaven promiscuously——then particularly +to every saint who had ever had a stiff leg, before +her——then touching it with all the reliques of the convent, +principally with the thigh-bone of the man of <i>Lystra</i>, who had +been impotent from his youth——then wrapping it up in her +veil when she went to bed—then cross-wise her rosary—then +bringing in to her aid the secular arm, and anointing it with oils and +hot fat of animals——then treating it with emollient and +resolving fomentations——then with poultices of +marsh-mallows, mallows, bonus Henricus, white lillies and +fenugreek—then taking the woods, I mean the smoak of ’em, +holding her scapulary across her lap——then decoctions of +wild chicory, water-cresses, chervil, sweet cecily and +cochlearia——and nothing all this while answering, was +prevailed on at last to try the hot baths of +<i>Bourbon</i>——so having first obtain’d leave of the +visitor-general to take care of her existence—she ordered all to +be got ready for her journey: a novice of the convent of about +seventeen, who had been troubled with a whitloe in her middle finger, by +sticking it constantly into the abbess’s cast poultices, +&c.—had gained such an interest, that overlooking a sciatical +old nun, who might have been set up for ever by the hot-baths of +<i>Bourbon</i>, <i>Margarita</i>, the little novice, was elected as the +companion of the journey.</p> + +<p>An old calesh, belonging to the abbesse, lined with green frize, was +ordered to be drawn out into the sun—the gardener of the convent +being chosen muleteer—led out the two old mules, to clip the hair +from the rump-ends of their tails, whilst a couple of lay-sisters were +busied, the one in darning the lining, and the other in sewing on the +shreads of yellow binding, which the teeth of time had +unravelled——the under-gardener dress’d the muleteer’s hat in +hot wine-lees——and a taylor sat musically at it, in a shed +over-against the convent, in assorting four dozen of bells for the +harness, whistling to each bell, as he tied it on with a <span class = +"locked">thong.——</span></p> + +<p>——The carpenter and the smith of <i>Andoüillets</i> held +a council of wheels; and by seven, the morning after, all look’d spruce, +and was ready at the gate of the convent for the hot-baths of +<i>Bourbon</i>—two rows of the unfortunate stood ready there an +hour before.</p> + +<p>The abbess of <i>Andoüillets</i>, supported by <i>Margarita</i> the +novice, advanced slowly to the calesh, both clad in white, with their +black rosaries hanging at their <span class = +"locked">breasts——</span></p> + +<p>——There was a simple solemnity in the contrast: they +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page369" id = "page369">369</a></span> +entered the calesh; and nuns in the same uniform, sweet emblem of +innocence, each occupied a window, and as the abbess and +<i>Margarita</i> look’d up—each (the sciatical poor nun +excepted)—each stream’d out the end of her veil in the +air—then kiss’d the lilly hand which let it go: the good abbess +and <i>Margarita</i> laid their hands saint-wise upon their +breasts—look’d up to heaven—then to them—and look’d +“God bless you, dear sisters.”</p> + +<p>I declare I am interested in this story, and wish I had been +there.</p> + +<p>The gardener, whom I shall now call the muleteer, was a little, +hearty, broad-set, good-natured, chattering, toping kind of a fellow, +who troubled his head very little with the <i>hows</i> and <i>whens</i> +of life; so had mortgaged a month of his conventical wages in a +borrachio, or leathern cask of wine, which he had disposed behind the +calesh, with a large russet-coloured riding-coat over it, to guard it +from the sun; and as the weather was hot, and he not a niggard of his +labours, walking ten times more than he rode—he found more +occasions than those of nature, to fall back to the rear of his +carriage; till by frequent coming and going, it had so happen’d, that +all his wine had leak’d out at the <i>legal</i> vent of the borrachio, +before one half of the journey was finish’d.</p> + +<p>Man is a creature born to habitudes. The day had been +sultry—the evening was delicious—the wine was +generous—the <i>Burgundian</i> hill on which it grew was +steep—a little tempting bush over the door of a cool cottage +at the foot of it, hung vibrating in full harmony with the +passions—a gentle air rustled distinctly through the +leaves—“Come—come, thirsty muleteer—come in.”</p> + +<p>—The muleteer was a son of <i>Adam</i>; I need not say a word +more. He gave the mules, each of ’em, a sound lash, and looking in +the abbess’s and <i>Margarita’s</i> faces (as he +did it)—as much as to say “here I am”—he gave a second +good crack—as much as to say to his mules, “get +on”——so slinking behind, he enter’d the little inn at the +foot of the hill.</p> + +<p>The muleteer, as I told you, was a little, joyous, chirping fellow, +who thought not of to-morrow, nor of what had gone before, or what was +to follow it, provided he got but his scantling of Burgundy, and a +little chit-chat along with it; so entering into a long conversation, as +how he was chief gardener to the convent of <i>Andoüillets</i>, &c. +&c., and out of friendship for the abbess and Mademoiselle +<i>Margarita</i>, who was only in her +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page370" id = "page370">370</a></span> +noviciate, he had come along with them from the confines of +<i>Savoy</i>, &c. &c.—and as how she had got a white +swelling by her devotions—and what a nation of herbs he had +procured to mollify her humours, &c. &c., and that if the waters +of <i>Bourbon</i> did not mend that leg—she might as well be lame +of both—&c. &c. &c.—He so contrived his story, +as absolutely to forget the heroine of it—and with her the little +novice, and what was a more ticklish point to be forgot than +both—the two mules; who being creatures that take advantage of the +world, inasmuch as their parents took it of them—and they not +being in a condition to return the obligation <i>downwards</i> +(as men and women and beasts are)—they do it side-ways, and +long-ways, and back-ways—and up hill, and down hill, and which way +they can.———Philosophers, with all their ethicks, have +never considered this rightly—how should the poor muleteer, then +in his cups, consider it at all? he did not in the least—’tis time +we do; let us leave him then in the vortex of his element, the happiest +and most thoughtless of mortal men——and for a moment let us +look after the mules, the abbess, and <i>Margarita</i>.</p> + +<p>By virtue of the muleteer’s two last strokes the mules had gone +quietly on, following their own consciences up the hill, till they had +conquer’d about one half of it; when the elder of them, a shrewd +crafty old devil, at the turn of an angle, giving a side glance, and no +muleteer behind <span class = "locked">them——</span></p> + +<p>By my fig! said she, swearing, I’ll go no further——And if +I do, replied the other, they shall make a drum of my <span class = +"locked">hide.——</span></p> + +<p>And so with one consent they stopp’d thus——</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXII" id = "bookVII_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p>——Get on with you, said the abbess.</p> + +<p>——Wh - - - - ysh——ysh——cried +<i>Margarita</i>.</p> + +<p>Sh - - - a——suh - u——shu - - u—sh - - +aw——shaw’d the abbess.</p> + +<p>——Whu—v—w——whew—w—w—whuv’d +<i>Margarita</i> pursing up her sweet lips betwixt a hoot and a +whistle.</p> + +<p>Thump—thump—thump—obstreperated the abbess of +<i>Andoüillets</i> with the end of her gold-headed cane against the +bottom of the <span class = "locked">calesh——</span></p> + +<p>The old mule let a f—</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page371" id = "page371">371</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXIII" id = "bookVII_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">We</span> are ruin’d and undone, my child, +said the abbess to <i>Margarita</i>,——we shall be here all +night——we shall be plunder’d——we shall be <span +class = "locked">ravish’d——</span></p> + +<p>——We shall be ravish’d, said <i>Margarita</i>, as sure as +a gun.</p> + +<p><i>Sancta Maria!</i> cried the abbess (forgetting the +<i>O!</i>)—why was I govern’d by this wicked stiff joint? why did +I leave the convent of <i>Andoüillets?</i> and why didst thou not suffer +thy servant to go unpolluted to her tomb?</p> + +<p>O my finger! my finger! cried the novice, catching fire at the word +<i>servant</i>—why was I not content to put it here, or there, any +where rather than be in this strait?</p> + +<p>Strait! said the abbess.</p> + +<p>Strait——said the novice; for terror had struck their +understandings——the one knew not what she +said——the other what she answer’d.</p> + +<p>O my virginity! virginity! cried the abbess.</p> + +<p>——inity!——inity! said the novice, +sobbing.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXIV" id = "bookVII_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> dear mother, quoth the novice, +coming a little to herself,——there are two certain words, +which I have been told will force any horse, or ass, or mule, to go up a +hill whether he will or no; be he never so obstinate or ill-will’d, the +moment he hears them utter’d, he obeys. They are words magic! cried the +abbess in the utmost horror—No; replied <i>Margarita</i> +calmly—but they are words sinful—What are they? quoth the +abbess, interrupting her: They are sinful in the first degree, answered +<i>Margarita</i>,—they are mortal—and if we are ravish’d and +die unabsolved of them, we shall both——but you may pronounce +them to me, quoth the abbess of <i>Andoüillets</i>——They +cannot, my dear mother, said the novice, be pronounced at all; they will +make all the blood in one’s body fly up into one’s face—But you +may whisper them in my ear, quoth the abbess.</p> + +<p>Heaven! hadst thou no guardian angel to delegate to the inn at the +bottom of the hill? was there no generous and friendly spirit +unemployed——no agent in nature, by some monitory shivering, +creeping along the artery which led to his heart, to +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page372" id = "page372">372</a></span> +rouse the muleteer from his banquet?——no sweet minstrelsy to +bring back the fair idea of the abbess and <i>Margarita</i>, with their +black rosaries!</p> + +<p>Rouse! rouse!——but ’tis too late—the horrid words +are pronounced this <span class = +"locked">moment——</span></p> + +<p>——and how to tell them—Ye, who can speak of +everything existing, with unpolluted lips, instruct +me——guide <span class = "locked">me——</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXV" id = "bookVII_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">All</span> sins whatever, quoth the abbess, +turning casuist in the distress they were under, are held by the +confessor of our convent to be either mortal or venial: there is no +further division. Now a venial sin being the slightest and least of all +sins—being halved—by taking either only the half of it, and +leaving the rest—or, by taking it all, and amicably halving it +betwixt yourself and another person—in course becomes diluted into +no sin at all.</p> + +<p>Now I see no sin in saying, <i>bou</i>, <i>bou</i>, <i>bou</i>, +<i>bou</i>, <i>bou</i>, a hundred times together; nor is there any +turpitude in pronouncing the syllable <i>ger</i>, <i>ger</i>, +<i>ger</i>, <i>ger</i>, <i>ger</i>, were it from our matins to our +vespers: Therefore, my dear daughter, continued the abbess of +<i>Andoüillets</i>—I will say <i>bou</i>, and thou shalt say +<i>ger</i>; and then alternately, as there is no more sin in <i>fou</i> +than in <i>bou</i>—Thou shalt say <i>fou</i>—and I will come +in (like fa, sol, la, re, mi, ut, at our complines) with <i>ter</i>. And +accordingly the abbess, giving the pitch note, set off thus:</p> + +<table class = "inline" summary = "aligned text"> +<tr> +<td> +Abbess,<br /> +<i>Margarita</i>,</td> +<td class = "bracket"> +Bou - - bou - - bou - -<br /> +——ger, - - ger, - - ger.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>Margarita</i>,<br /> +Abbess,</td> +<td class = "bracket"> +Fou - - fou - - fou - -<br /> +——ter, - - ter, - - ter.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>The two mules acknowledged the notes by a mutual lash of their tails; +but it went no further——’Twill answer by an’ by, said the +novice.</p> + +<table class = "inline" summary = "aligned text"> +<tr> +<td> +Abbess,<br /> +<i>Margarita</i>,</td> +<td class = "bracket"> +Bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- bou-<br /> +—ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, ger.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Quicker still, cried <i>Margarita</i>.</p> + +<p>Fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou.</p> + +<p>Quicker still, cried <i>Margarita</i>.</p> + +<p>Bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou,</p> + +<p>Quicker still—God preserve me; said the abbess—They do +not understand us, cried <i>Margarita</i>—But the Devil does, said +the abbess of <i>Andoüillets</i>.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page373" id = "page373">373</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXVI" id = "bookVII_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">What</span> a tract of country have I +run!—how many degrees nearer to the warm sun am I advanced, and +how many fair and goodly cities have I seen, during the time you have +been reading, and reflecting, Madam, upon this story! There’s <span +class = "smallcaps">Fontainbleau</span>, and <span class = +"smallcaps">Sens</span>, and <span class = "smallcaps">Joigny</span>, +and <span class = "smallcaps">Auxerre</span>, and <span class = +"smallcaps">Dijon</span> the capital of <i>Burgundy</i>, and <span class += "smallcaps">Challon</span>, and <i>Mâcon</i> the capital of the +<i>Mâconese</i>, and a score more upon the road to <span class = +"smallcaps">Lyons</span>——and now I have run them +over——I might as well talk to you of so many market +towns in the moon, as tell you one word about them: it will be this +chapter at the least, if not both this and the next entirely lost, do +what I <span class = "locked">will——</span></p> + +<p>——Why, ’tis a strange story! <i>Tristram.</i></p> + +<p><span class = "invisible">——Why, ’tis a strange +story!</span> ——Alas! Madam, had it been upon some +melancholy lecture of the cross—the peace of meekness, or the +contentment of resignation——I had not been incommoded: +or had I thought of writing it upon the purer abstractions of the soul, +and that food of wisdom and holiness and contemplation, upon which the +spirit of man (when separated from the body) is to subsist for +ever——You would have come with a better appetite from <span +class = "locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>——I wish I never had wrote it: but as I never blot +anything out——let us use some honest means to get it out of +our heads directly.</p> + +<p>——Pray reach me my fool’s cap——I fear you sit +upon it, Madam——’tis under the cushion——I’ll put +it <span class = "locked">on——</span></p> + +<p>Bless me! you have had it upon your head this half +hour.——There then let it stay, with a</p> + +<p>Fa-ra diddle di</p> +<p>and a fa-ri diddle d</p> +<p>and a high-dum—dye-dum</p> +<p class = "indent"> +fiddle - - - dumb - c.</p> + +<p>And now, Madam, we may venture, I hope, a little to go on.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXVII" id = "bookVII_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p>——All you need say of <i>Fontainbleau</i> (in case you +are ask’d) is, that it stands about forty miles (south <i>something</i>) +from <i>Paris</i>, in the middle of a large forest——That +there is something great in it——That the king goes there +once every two or three years, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page374" id = "page374">374</a></span> +with his whole court, for the pleasure of the chase—and that, +during that carnival of sporting, any <i>English</i> gentleman of +fashion (you need not forget yourself) may be accommodated with a nag or +two, to partake of the sport, taking care only not to out-gallop the +<span class = "locked">king——</span></p> + +<p>Though there are two reasons why you need not talk loud of this to +every one.</p> + +<p>First, Because ’twill make the said nags the harder to be got; +and</p> + +<p>Secondly, ’Tis not a word of it true.——<i>Allons!</i></p> + +<p>As for <span class = "smallcaps">Sens</span>——you may +dispatch—in a word———“<i>’Tis an archiepiscopal +see</i>.”</p> + +<p>——For <span class = "smallcaps">Joigny</span>—the +less, I think, one says of it the better.</p> + +<p>But for <span class = "smallcaps">Auxerre</span>—I could go on +for ever: for in my <i>grand tour</i> through <i>Europe</i>, in which, +after all, my father (not caring to trust me with any one) attended me +himself, with my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and <i>Trim</i>, and <i>Obadiah</i>, +and indeed most of the family, except my mother, who being taken up with +a project of knitting my father a pair of large worsted +breeches—(the thing is common sense)—and she not caring to +be put out of her way, she staid at home, at <span class = +"smallcaps">Shandy Hall</span>, to keep things right during the +expedition; in which, I say, my father stopping us two days at +<i>Auxerre</i>, and his researches being ever of such a nature, that +they would have found fruit even in a desert——he has left me +enough to say upon <span class = "smallcaps">Auxerre</span>: in short, +wherever my father went——but ’twas more remarkably so, in +this journey through <i>France</i> and <i>Italy</i>, than in any other +stages of his life——his road seemed to lie so much on one +side of that, wherein all other travellers have gone before him—he +saw kings and courts and silks of all colours, in such strange +lights——and his remarks and reasonings upon the characters, +the manners, and customs, of the countries we pass’d over, were so +opposite to those of all other mortal men, particularly those of my +uncle <i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i>—(to say nothing of +myself)—and to crown all—the occurrences and scrapes which +we were perpetually meeting and getting into, in consequence of his +systems and opiniatry—they were of so odd, so mix’d and +tragi-comical a contexture—That the whole put together, it appears +of so different a shade and tint from any tour of <i>Europe</i>, which +was ever executed—that I will venture to pronounce—the fault +must be mine and mine only—if it be not read by all travellers and +travel-readers, till travelling is no more,—or which comes to the +same point—till the world, finally, takes it into its head to +stand <span class = "locked">still.——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page375" id = "page375">375</a></span> +<p>——But this rich bale is not to be open’d now; except a +small thread or two of it, merely to unravel the mystery of my father’s +stay at <span class = "smallcaps">Auxerre</span>.</p> + +<p>——As I have mentioned it—’tis too slight to be kept +suspended; and when ’tis wove in, there is an end of it.</p> + +<p>We’ll go, brother <i>Toby</i>, said my father, whilst dinner is +coddling—to the abby of Saint <i>Germain</i>, if it be only to see +these bodies, of which Monsieur <i>Sequier</i> has given such a +recommendation.——I’ll go see any body, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; for he was all compliance through every step of the +journey——Defend me! said my father—they are all +mummies——Then one need not shave; quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——Shave! no—cried my father—’twill be +more like relations to go with our beards on—So out we sallied, +the corporal lending his master his arm, and bringing up the rear, to +the abby of Saint <i>Germain</i>.</p> + +<p>Everything is very fine, and very rich, and very superb, and very +magnificent, said my father, addressing himself to the sacristan, who +was a younger brother of the order of <i>Benedictines</i>—but our +curiosity has led us to see the bodies, of which Monsieur <i>Sequier</i> +has given the world so exact a description.—The sacristan made a +bow, and lighting a torch first, which he had always in the vestry ready +for the purpose; he led us into the tomb of St. +<i>Heribald</i>——This, said the sacristan, laying his hand +upon the tomb, was a renowned prince of the house of <i>Bavaria</i>, who +under the successive reigns of <i>Charlemagne</i>, <i>Louis le +Debonnair</i>, and <i>Charles the Bald</i>, bore a great sway in the +government, and had a principal hand in bringing everything into order +and <span class = "locked">discipline——</span></p> + +<p>Then he has been as great, said my uncle, in the field, as in the +cabinet——I dare say he has been a gallant +soldier——He was a monk—said the sacristan.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i> sought comfort in each other’s +faces—but found it not: my father clapped both his hands upon his +cod-piece, which was a way he had when anything hugely tickled him: for +though he hated a monk and the very smell of a monk worse than all the +devils in hell——yet the shot hitting my uncle <i>Toby</i> +and <i>Trim</i> so much harder than him, ’twas a relative triumph; and +put him into the gayest humour in the world.</p> + +<p>——And pray what do you call this gentleman? quoth my +father, rather sportingly: This tomb, said the young <i>Benedictine</i>, +looking downwards, contains the bones of Saint <span class = +"smallcaps">Maxima</span>, who came from <i>Ravenna</i> on purpose to +touch the <span class = "locked">body——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page376" id = "page376">376</a></span> +<p>——Of Saint <span class = "smallcaps">Maximus</span>, said +my father, popping in with his saint before him,—they were two of +the greatest saints in the whole martyrology, added my +father——Excuse me, said the +sacristan————’twas to touch the bones of Saint +<i>Germain</i>, the builder of the abby——And what did she +get by it? said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——What does any woman +get by it? said my father——<span class = +"smallcaps">Martyrdome</span>; replied the young <i>Benedictine</i>, +making a bow down to the ground, and uttering the word with so humble +but decisive a cadence, it disarmed my father for a moment. ’Tis +supposed, continued the <i>Benedictine</i>, that St. <i>Maxima</i> has +lain in this tomb four hundred years, and two hundred before her +canonization——’Tis but a slow rise, brother <i>Toby</i>, +quoth my father, in this self-same army of +martyrs.——A desperate slow one, an’ please your honour, +said <i>Trim</i>, unless one could purchase——I should +rather sell out entirely, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——I am pretty much of your opinion, brother +<i>Toby</i>, said my father.</p> + +<p>——Poor St. <i>Maxima!</i> said my uncle <i>Toby</i> low +to himself, as we turn’d from her tomb: She was one of the fairest and +most beautiful ladies either of <i>Italy</i> or <i>France</i>, continued +the sacristan——But who the duce has got lain down here, +besides her? quoth my father, pointing with his cane to a large tomb as +we walked on——It is Saint <i>Optat</i>, Sir, answered the +sacristan——And properly is Saint <i>Optat</i> plac’d! said +my father: And what is Saint <i>Optat’s</i> story? continued he. Saint +<i>Optat</i>, replied the sacristan, was a <span class = +"locked">bishop——</span></p> + +<p>——I thought so, by heaven! cried my father, interrupting +him——Saint <i>Optat!</i>——how should Saint +<i>Optat</i> fail? so snatching out his pocket-book, and the young +<i>Benedictine</i> holding him the torch as he wrote, he set it down as +a new prop to his system of Christian names, and I will be bold to say, +so disinterested was he in the search of truth, that had he found a +treasure in Saint <i>Optat’s</i> tomb, it would not have made him half +so rich: ’Twas as successful a short visit as ever was paid to the dead; +and so highly was his fancy pleas’d with all that had passed in +it,—that he determined at once to stay another day in +<i>Auxerre</i>.</p> + +<p>—I’ll see the rest of these good gentry <ins class = +"correction" title = ", missing">to-morrow,</ins> said my father, as we +cross’d over the square—And while you are paying that visit, +brother <i>Shandy</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>—the corporal and +I will mount the ramparts.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page377" id = "page377">377</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXVIII" id = "bookVII_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">Now</span> this is the most +puzzled skein of all——for in this last chapter, as far at +least as it has help’d me through <i>Auxerre</i>, I have been +getting forwards in two different journies together, and with the same +dash of the pen—for I have got entirely out of <i>Auxerre</i> in +this journey which I am writing now, and I am got half way out of +<i>Auxerre</i> in that which I shall write hereafter——There +is but a certain degree of perfection in everything; and by pushing at +something beyond that, I have brought myself into such a situation, +as no traveller ever stood before me; for I am this moment walking +across the market-place of <i>Auxerre</i> with my father and my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, in our way back to dinner——and I am this moment +also entering <i>Lyons</i> with my post-chaise broke into a thousand +pieces—and I am moreover this moment in a handsome pavillion built +by <i>Pringello</i>,<a class = "tag" name = "tag_7_4" id = "tag_7_4" +href = "#note_7_4">4</a> upon the banks of the <i>Garonne</i>, which +Mons. <i>Sligniac</i> has lent me, and where I now sit rhapsodising all +these affairs.</p> + +<p>——Let me collect myself, and pursue my journey.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXIX" id = "bookVII_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I am</span> glad of it, said I, settling +the account with myself, as I walk’d into <i>Lyons</i>——my +chaise being all laid higgledy-piggledy with my baggage in a cart, which +was moving slowly before me——I am heartily glad, said +I, that ’tis all broke to pieces; for now I can go directly by water to +<i>Avignon</i>, which will carry me on a hundred and twenty miles of my +journey, and not cost me seven livres——and from thence, +continued I, bringing forwards the account, I can hire a couple of +mules—or asses, if I like (for nobody knows me) and cross the +plains of <i>Languedoc</i> for almost nothing——I shall +gain four hundred livres by the misfortune clear into my purse: and +pleasure! worth—worth double the money by it. With what velocity, +continued I, clapping my two hands together, shall I fly down the rapid +<i>Rhone</i>, with the <span class = "smallcaps">Vivares</span> on my +right hand, and <span class = "smallcaps">Dauphiny</span> on my left, +scarce seeing the ancient cities of <span class = +"smallcaps">Vienne</span>, <i>Valence</i>, and <i>Vivieres</i>. +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page378" id = "page378">378</a></span> +What a flame will it rekindle in the lamp, to snatch a blushing grape +from the <i>Hermitage</i> and <i>Côte roti</i>, as I shoot by the foot +of them! and what a fresh spring in the blood! to behold upon the banks +advancing and retiring, the castles of romance, whence courteous knights +have whilome rescued the distress’d——and see vertiginous, +the rocks, the mountains, the cataracts, and all the hurry which Nature +is in with all her great works about her.</p> + +<p>As I went on thus, methought my chaise, the wreck of which look’d +stately enough at the first, insensibly grew less and less in its size; +the freshness of the painting was no more—the gilding lost its +lustre—and the whole affair appeared so poor in my eyes—so +sorry!—so contemptible! and, in a word, so much worse than the +abbess of <ins class = "correction" +title = "apostrophe in original"><i>Andoüillets’</i></ins> itself—that I was just opening +my mouth to give it to the devil—when a pert vamping +chaise-undertaker, stepping nimbly across the street, demanded if +Monsieur would have his chaise refitted——No, no, said I, +shaking my head sideways—Would Monsieur chuse to sell it? rejoined +the undertaker.—With all my soul, said I—the iron work is +worth forty livres—and the glasses worth forty more—and the +leather you may take to live on.</p> + +<p>What a mine of wealth, quoth I, as he counted me the money, has this +post-chaise brought me in? And this is my usual method of book-keeping, +at least with the disasters of life—making a penny of every one of +’em as they happen to <span class = "locked">me——</span></p> + +<p>——Do, my dear <i>Jenny</i>, tell the world for me, how I +behaved under one, the most oppressive of its kind, which could befal me +as a man, proud as he ought to be of his <span class = +"locked">manhood——</span></p> + +<p>’Tis enough, saidst thou, coming close up to me, as I stood with my +garters in my hand, reflecting upon what had <i>not</i> +pass’d——’Tis enough, <i>Tristram</i>, and I am satisfied, +saidst thou, whispering these words in my ear, **** ** **** *** +******;—**** ** **——any other man would have sunk down +to the <span class = "locked">center——</span></p> + +<p>——Everything is good for something, quoth I.</p> + +<p>——I’ll go into <i>Wales</i> for six weeks, and drink +goat’s whey—and I’ll gain seven years longer life for the +accident. For which reason I think myself inexcusable, for blaming +fortune so often as I have done, for pelting me all my life long, like +an ungracious duchess, as I call’d her, with so many small evils: +surely, if I have any cause to be angry with her, ’tis that she has not +sent me great ones—a score of good cursed, bouncing losses, +would have been as good as a pension to me.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page379" id = "page379">379</a></span> +<p>——One of a hundred a year, or so, is all I wish—I +would not be at the plague of paying land-tax for a larger.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXX" id = "bookVII_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">To</span> those who call vexations, <span +class = "smallroman">VEXATIONS</span>, as knowing what they are, there +could not be a greater, than to be the best part of a day at +<i>Lyons</i>, the most opulent and flourishing city in <i>France</i>, +enriched with the most fragments of antiquity—and not be able to +see it. To be withheld upon <i>any</i> account, must be a vexation; but +to be withheld <i>by</i> a vexation——must certainly be, what +philosophy justly calls</p> + +<h5 class = "final"> +VEXATION<br /> +<span class = "smallroman">UPON</span><br /> +VEXATION.</h5> + +<p>I had got my two dishes of milk coffee (which by the bye is +excellently good for a consumption, but you must boil the milk and +coffee together—otherwise ’tis only coffee and milk)—and as +it was no more than eight in the morning, and the boat did not go off +till noon, I had time to see enough of <i>Lyons</i> to tire the +patience of all the friends I had in the world with it. I will take +a walk to the cathedral, said I, looking at my list, and see the +wonderful mechanism of this great clock of <i>Lippius</i> of +<i>Basil</i>, in the first <span class = +"locked">place——</span></p> + +<p>Now, of all things in the world, I understand the least of +mechanism——I have neither genius, or taste, or +fancy—and have a brain so entirely unapt for everything of that +kind, that I solemnly declare I was never yet able to comprehend the +principles of motion of a squirrel cage, or a common knife-grinder’s +wheel—tho’ I have many an hour of my life look’d up with +great devotion at the one—and stood by with as much patience as +any christian ever could do, at the <span class = +"locked">other——</span></p> + +<p>I’ll go see the surprising movements of this great clock, said I, the +very first thing I do: and then I will pay a visit to the great library +of the Jesuits, and procure, if possible, a sight of the thirty +volumes of the general history of <i>China</i>, wrote (not in the +<i>Tartarean</i>, but) in the <i>Chinese</i> language, and in the +<i>Chinese</i> character too.</p> + +<p>Now I almost know as little of the <i>Chinese</i> language, as I do +of the mechanism of <i>Lippius’s</i> clock-work; so, why these should +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page380" id = "page380">380</a></span> +have jostled themselves into the two first articles of my +list——I leave to the curious as a problem of Nature. +I own it looks like one of her ladyship’s obliquities; and they who +court her, are interested in finding out her humour as much +as I.</p> + +<p>When these curiosities are seen, quoth I, half addressing myself to +my <i>valet de place</i>, who stood behind me——’twill be no +hurt if we go to the church of St. <i>Irenæus</i>, and see the pillar to +which <i>Christ</i> was tied——and after that, the house +where <i>Pontius Pilate</i> lived——’Twas at the next town, +said the <i>valet de place</i>—at <i>Vienne</i>; I am glad of +it, said I, rising briskly from my chair, and walking across the room +with strides twice as long as my usual pace——“for so much +the sooner shall I be at the <i>Tomb of the two lovers</i>.”</p> + +<p>What was the cause of this movement, and why I took such long strides +in uttering this——I might leave to the curious too; but +as no principle of clock-work is concerned in it——’twill be +as well for the reader if I explain it myself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXI" id = "bookVII_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">O there</span> is a sweet æra in the life +of man, when (the brain being tender and fibrillous, and more like pap +than anything else)——a story read of two fond lovers, +separated from each other by cruel parents, and by still more cruel +<span class = "locked">destiny——</span></p> + +<p class = "super"> +<i>Amandus</i>——He<br /> +<i>Amanda</i>——She——</p> + +<p>each ignorant of the other’s course,</p> + + +<p class = "super"> +He——east<br /> +She——west</p> + +<p><i>Amandus</i> taken captive by the <i>Turks</i>, and carried to the +emperor of <i>Morocco’s</i> court, where the princess of <i>Morocco</i> +falling in love with him, keeps him twenty years in prison for the love +of his <span class = "locked"><i>Amanda</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>She—(<i>Amanda</i>) all the time wandering barefoot, and with +dishevell’d hair, o’er rocks and mountains, enquiring for +<i>Amandus!</i>——<i>Amandus! Amandus!</i>—making every +hill and valley to echo back his <span class = +"locked">name——</span></p> + +<p class = "super"> +<i>Amandus! Amandus!</i></p> + +<p>at every town and city, sitting down forlorn at the +gate——Has <i>Amandus!</i>—has my <i>Amandus</i> +enter’d?——till,——going round, and round, and +round the world——chance unexpected bringing them at the same +moment of the night, though by different +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page381" id = "page381">381</a></span> +ways, to the gate of <i>Lyons</i>, their native city, and each in +well-known accents calling out aloud,</p> + +<table class = "inline super" summary = "aligned text"> +<tr> +<td> +Is <i>Amandus</i><br /> +Is my <i>Amanda</i></td> +<td class = "bracket"> +still alive? +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>they fly into each other’s arms, and both drop down dead for joy.</p> + +<p>There is a soft æra in every gentle mortal’s life, where such a story +affords more <i>pabulum</i> to the brain, than all the <i>Frusts</i>, +and <i>Crusts</i>, and <i>Rusts</i> of antiquity, which travellers can +cook up for it.</p> + +<p>——’Twas all that stuck on the right side of the cullender +in my own, of what <i>Spon</i> and others, in their accounts of +<i>Lyons</i>, had <i>strained</i> into it; and finding, moreover, in +some Itinerary, but in what God knows——That sacred to the +fidelity of <i>Amandus</i> and <i>Amanda</i>, a tomb was built +without the gates, where, to this hour, lovers called upon them to +attest their truths——I never could get into a scrape of +that kind in my life, but this <i>tomb of the lovers</i> would, somehow +or other, come in at the close——nay such a kind of empire +had it establish’d over me, that I could seldom think or speak of +<i>Lyons</i>—and sometimes not so much as see even a +<i>Lyons-waistcoat</i>, but this remnant of antiquity would present +itself to my fancy; and I have often said in my wild way of running +on——tho’ I fear with some +irreverence——“I thought this shrine (neglected as it +was) as valuable as that of <i>Mecca</i>, and so little short, except in +wealth, of the <i>Santa Casa</i> itself, that some time or other, +I would go a pilgrimage (though I had no other business at +<i>Lyons</i>) on purpose to pay it a visit.”</p> + +<p>In my list, therefore, of <i>Videnda</i> at <i>Lyons</i>, this, tho’ +<i>last</i>,—was not, you see, <i>least</i>; so taking a dozen or +two of longer strides than usual across my room, just whilst it passed +my brain, I walked down calmly into the <i>Basse Cour</i>, in order +to sally forth; and having called for my bill—as it was uncertain +whether I should return to my inn, I had paid it——had +moreover given the maid ten sous, and was just receiving the dernier +compliments of Monsieur <i>Le Blanc</i>, for a pleasant voyage down the +<i>Rhône</i>——when I was stopped at the <span class = +"locked">gate——</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXII" id = "bookVII_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">’Twas</span> by a poor ass, +who had just turned in with a couple of large panniers upon his back, to +collect eleemosynary turnip-tops and cabbage-leaves; and stood dubious, +with his two fore-feet +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page382" id = "page382">382</a></span> +on the inside of the threshold, and with his two hinder feet towards the +street, as not knowing very well whether he was to go in or no.</p> + +<p>Now, ’tis an animal (be in what hurry I may) I cannot bear to +strike——there is a patient endurance of sufferings, wrote so +unaffectedly in his looks and carriage, which pleads so mightily for +him, that it always disarms me; and to that degree, that I do not like +to speak unkindly to him: on the contrary, meet him where I +will—whether in town or country—in cart or under +panniers—whether in liberty or bondage——I have +ever something civil to say to him on my part; and as one word begets +another (if he has as little to do +as I)——I generally fall into conversation with +him; and surely never is my imagination so busy as in framing his +responses from the etchings of his countenance—and where those +carry me not deep enough——in flying from my own heart into +his, and seeing what is natural for an ass to think—as well as a +man, upon the occasion. In truth, it is the only creature of all the +classes of beings below me, with whom I can do this: for parrots, +jackdaws, &c.——I never exchange a word with +them——nor with the apes, &c., for pretty near the same +reason; they act by rote, as the others speak by it, and equally make me +silent: nay my dog and my cat, though I value them +both——(and for my dog he would speak if he could)—yet +somehow or other, they neither of them possess the talents for +conversation——I can make nothing of a discourse with +them, beyond the <i>proposition</i>, the <i>reply</i>, and +<i>rejoinder</i>, which terminated my father’s and my mother’s +conversations, in his beds of justice——and those +utter’d——there’s an end of the <span class = +"locked">dialogue——</span></p> + +<p>—But with an ass, I can commune for ever.</p> + +<p>Come, <i>Honesty!</i> said I,——seeing it was +impracticable to pass betwixt him and the gate——art thou for +coming in, or going out?</p> + +<p>The ass twisted his head round to look up the +street——</p> + +<p>Well—replied I—we’ll wait a minute for thy driver:</p> + +<p>——He turned his head thoughtful about, and looked +wistfully the opposite <span class = +"locked">way——</span></p> + +<p>I understand thee perfectly, answered I——If thou takest a +wrong step in this affair, he will cudgel thee to +death——Well! a minute is but a minute, and if it saves +a fellow-creature a drubbing, it shall not be set down as ill spent.</p> + +<p>He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this discourse went on, and +in the little peevish contentions of nature betwixt hunger +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page383" id = "page383">383</a></span> +and unsavouriness, had dropt it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and +pick’d it up again——God help thee, <i>Jack!</i> said I, thou +hast a bitter breakfast on’t—and many a bitter day’s +labour,—and many a bitter blow, I fear, for its +wages——’tis all—all bitterness to thee, whatever life +is to others.——And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of +it, is as bitter, I dare say, as soot—(for he had cast aside +the stem) and thou hast not a friend perhaps in all this world, that +will give thee a macaroon.——In saying this, I pull’d +out a paper of ’em, which I had just purchased, and gave him +one—and at this moment that I am telling it, my heart smites me, +that there was more of pleasantry in the conceit, of seeing <i>how</i> +an ass would eat a macaroon——than of benevolence in giving +him one, which presided in the act.</p> + +<p>When the ass had eaten his macaroon, I press’d him to come +in—the poor beast was heavy loaded——his legs seem’d to +tremble under him——he hung rather backwards, and as I pull’d +at his halter, it broke short in my hand——he look’d up +pensive in my face—“Don’t thrash me with it—but if you will, +you may”——If I do, said I, I’ll be +d——d.</p> + +<p>The word was but one-half of it pronounced, like the abbess of +<i>Andoüillets’</i>—(so there was no sin +in it)—when a person coming in, let fall a thundering +bastinado upon the poor devil’s crupper, which put an end to the +ceremony.</p> + +<p class = "indent"> +<i>Out upon it!</i></p> + +<p>cried I——but the interjection was +equivocal——and, I think, wrong placed too—for the +end of an osier which had started out from the contexture of the ass’s +pannier, had caught hold of my breeches pocket, as he rush’d by me, and +rent it in the most disastrous direction you can imagine——so +that the</p> + +<p><i>Out upon it!</i> in my opinion, should have come in +here——but this I leave to be settled by</p> + +<p class = "center smallroman"> +THE<br /> +REVIEWERS<br /> +OF<br /> +MY BREECHES,</p> + +<p>which I have brought over along with me for that purpose.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page384" id = "page384">384</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXIII" id = "bookVII_chapXXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> all was set to rights, I came +down stairs again into the <i>basse cour</i> with my <i>valet de +place</i>, in order to sally out towards the tomb of the two lovers, +&c.—and was a second time stopp’d at the gate——not +by the ass—but by the person who struck him; and who, by that +time, had taken possession (as is not uncommon after a defeat) of +the very spot of ground where the ass stood.</p> + +<p>It was a commissary sent to me from the post-office, with a rescript +in his hand for the payment of some six livres odd sous.</p> + +<p>Upon what account? said I.——’Tis upon the part of the +king, replied the commissary, heaving up both his <span class = +"locked">shoulders——</span></p> + +<p>——My good friend, quoth I——as sure as I am +I—and you are <span class = "locked">you——</span></p> + +<p>——And who are you? said he.———Don’t +puzzle me; said I.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXIV" id = "bookVII_chapXXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h4> + + +<p>——But it is an indubitable verity, continued I, +addressing myself to the commissary, changing only the form of my +asseveration——that I owe the king of <i>France</i> nothing +but my good-will; for he is a very honest man, and I wish him all health +and pastime in the <span class = "locked">world——</span></p> + +<p><i>Pardonnez moi</i>—replied the commissary, you are indebted +to him six livres four sous, for the next post from hence to St. +<i>Fons</i>, in your route to <i>Avignon</i>—which being a post +royal, you pay double for the horses and postillion—otherwise +’twould have amounted to no more than three livres two <span class = +"locked">sous——</span></p> + +<p>——But I don’t go by land; said I.</p> + +<p>——You may if you please; replied the +commissary——</p> + +<p>Your most obedient servant——said I, making him a low +bow——</p> + +<p>The commissary, with all the sincerity of grave good +breeding—made me one, as low again.——I never was +more disconcerted with a bow in my life.</p> + +<p>——The devil take the serious character of these people! +quoth I—(aside) they understand no more of <span class = +"smallroman">IRONY</span> than <span class = +"locked">this——</span></p> + +<p>The comparison was standing close by with his panniers—but +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page385" id = "page385">385</a></span> +something seal’d up my lips—I could not pronounce the <span class += "locked">name—</span></p> + +<p>Sir, said I, collecting myself—it is not my intention to take +post——</p> + +<p>—But you may—said he, persisting in his first +reply—you may take post if you <span class = +"locked">chuse——</span></p> + +<p>—And I may take salt to my pickled herring, said I, if I +chuse——</p> + +<p>—But I do not chuse—</p> + +<p>—But you must pay for it, whether you do or no.</p> + +<p>Aye! for the salt; said I (I know)——</p> + +<p>—And for the post too; added he. Defend me! cried +I——</p> + +<p>I travel by water—I am going down the <i>Rhône</i> this very +afternoon—my baggage is in the boat—and I have actually paid +nine livres for my <span class = +"locked">passage——</span></p> + +<p><i>C’est tout egal</i>—’tis all one; said he.</p> + +<p><i>Bon Dieu!</i> what, pay for the way I go! and for the way I do +<i>not</i> go!</p> + +<p>——<i>C’est tout egal</i>; replied the +commissary——</p> + +<p>——The devil it is! said I—but I will go to ten +thousand Bastiles <span class = "locked">first——</span></p> + +<p><i>O England! England!</i> thou land of liberty, and climate of good +sense, thou tenderest of mothers—and gentlest of nurses, cried I, +kneeling upon one knee, as I was beginning my apostrophe.</p> + +<p>When the director of Madam <i>Le Blanc’s</i> conscience coming in at +that instant, and seeing a person in black, with a face as pale as +ashes, at his devotions—looking still paler by the contrast and +distress of his drapery—ask’d, if I stood in want of the aids of +the <span class = "locked">church——</span></p> + +<p>I go by <span class = "smallroman">WATER</span>—said +I—and here’s another will be for making me pay for going by <span +class = "smallroman">OIL</span>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXV" id = "bookVII_chapXXXV"> +CHAPTER XXXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> I perceived the commissary of the +post-office would have his six livres four sous, I had nothing else +for it, but to say some smart thing upon the occasion, worth the +money:</p> + +<p>And so I set off thus:——</p> + +<p>——And pray, Mr. Commissary, by what law of courtesy is a +defenceless stranger to be used just the reverse from what you use a +<i>Frenchman</i> in this matter?</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page386" id = "page386">386</a></span> +<p>By no means; said he.</p> + +<p>Excuse me; said I—for you have begun, Sir, with first tearing +off my breeches—and now you want my <span class = +"locked">pocket——</span></p> + +<p>Whereas—had you first taken my pocket, as you do with your own +people—and then left me bare a—’d after—I had +been a beast to have <span class = +"locked">complain’d——</span></p> + +<p>As it is——</p> + +<p>——’Tis contrary to the <i>law of nature</i>.</p> + +<p>——’Tis contrary to <i>reason</i>.</p> + +<p>——’Tis contrary to the <span class = +"smallroman">GOSPEL</span>.</p> + +<p>But not to this——said he—putting a printed paper +into my hand,</p> + +<h5 class = "smallcaps">Par le Roy.</h5> + +<p>————’Tis a pithy prolegomenon, quoth +I—and so read on +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— —— +—— —— —— <span class = +"locked">——</span></p> + +<p>——By all which it appears, quoth I, having read it over, +a little too rapidly, that if a man sets out in a post-chaise from +<i>Paris</i>—he must go on travelling in one, all the days of his +life—or pay for it.—Excuse me, said the commissary, the +spirit of the ordinance is this—That if you set out with an +intention of running post from <i>Paris</i> to <i>Avignon</i>, &c., +you shall not change that intention or mode of travelling, without first +satisfying the fermiers for two posts further than the place you repent +at—and ’tis founded, continued he, upon this, that the <span class += "smallroman">REVENUES</span> are not to fall short through your <span +class = "locked"><i>fickleness</i>——</span></p> + +<p>——O by heavens! cried I—if fickleness is taxable in +<i>France</i>—we have nothing to do but to make the best peace +with you we <span class = "locked">can——</span></p> + +<p><span class = "smallroman">AND SO THE PEACE WAS MADE</span>;</p> + +<p>——And if it is a bad one—as <i>Tristram Shandy</i> +laid the corner-stone of it—nobody but <i>Tristram Shandy</i> +ought to be hanged.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXVI" id = "bookVII_chapXXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Though</span> I was sensible I had said as +many clever things to the commissary as came to six livres four sous, +yet I was determined to note down the imposition amongst my remarks +before I retired +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page387" id = "page387">387</a></span> +from the place; so putting my hand into my coat-pocket for my +remarks—(which, by the bye, may be a caution to travellers to take +a little more care of <i>their</i> remarks for the future) “my remarks +were <i>stolen</i>”——Never did sorry traveller make such a +pother and racket about his remarks as I did about mine, upon the +occasion.</p> + +<p>Heaven! earth! sea! fire! cried I, calling in everything to my aid +but what I should———My remarks are stolen!—what +shall I do?——Mr. Commissary! pray did I drop any remarks, as +I stood besides <span class = +"locked">you?———</span></p> + +<p>You dropp’d a good many very singular ones; replied +he——Pugh! said I, those were but a few, not worth above six +livres two sous—but these are a large parcel——He shook +his head——Monsieur <i>Le Blanc!</i> Madam <i>Le Blanc!</i> +did you see any papers of mine?—you maid of the house! run up +stairs—<i>François!</i> run up after <span class = +"locked">her——</span></p> + +<p>—I must have my remarks——they were the best +remarks, cried I, that ever were made—the wisest—the +wittiest—What shall I do?—which way shall I turn myself?</p> + +<p><i>Sancho Pança</i>, when he lost his ass’s <span class = +"smallroman">FURNITURE</span>, did not exclaim more bitterly.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXVII" id = "bookVII_chapXXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> the first transport was over, +and the registers of the brain were beginning to get a little out of the +confusion into which this jumble of cross accidents had cast +them—it then presently occurr’d to me, that I had left my remarks +in the pocket of the chaise—and that in selling my chaise, +I had sold my remarks along with it, to the chaise-vamper. +<img src = "images/onedot.gif" width = "200" height = "12" +alt = "[blank space]" /> +I leave this void space that the reader may swear into it any oath +that he is most accustomed to——For my own part, if ever I +swore a <i>whole</i> oath into a vacancy in my life, I think it was +into that——*********, said I—and so my remarks through +<i>France</i>, which were as full of wit, as an egg is full of meat, and +as well worth four hundred guineas, as the said egg is worth a +penny—have I been selling here to a chaise-vamper—for four +<i>Louis d’Ors</i>—and giving him a post-chaise (by heaven) +worth six into the bargain; had it been to <i>Dodsley</i>, or +<i>Becket</i>, or any creditable bookseller, who was either leaving off +business, and wanted a post-chaise—or who was beginning +it—and wanted my remarks, and two or three guineas along with +them—I could have borne it——but to a +chaise-vamper!—shew me to him this moment, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page388" id = "page388">388</a></span> +<i>François</i>,—said I—The valet de place put on his hat, +and led the way—and I pull’d off mine, as I pass’d the commissary, +and followed him.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXVIII" id = "bookVII_chapXXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> we arrived at the +Chaise-vamper’s House, Both the House and the shop were shut up; it was +the eighth of <i>September</i>, the nativity of the blessed Virgin +<i>Mary</i>, mother of <span class = "locked">God—</span></p> + +<p>——Tantarra-ra-tan-tivi——the whole world was +gone out a May-poling—frisking here—capering +there——nobody cared a button for me or my remarks; so I sat +me down upon a bench by the door, philosophating upon my condition: by a +better fate than usually attends me, I had not waited half an hour, +when the mistress came in to take the papilliotes from off her hair, +before she went to the <span class = +"locked">May-poles——</span></p> + +<p>The <i>French</i> women, by the bye, love May-poles, <i>à la +folie</i>—that is, as much as their matins——give ’em +but a May-pole, whether in <i>May</i>, <i>June</i>, <i>July</i>, or +<i>September</i>—they never count the times——down it +goes——’tis meat, drink, washing, and lodging to +’em——and had we but the policy, an’ please your worships +(as wood is a little scarce in <i>France</i>), to send them but +plenty of <span class = "locked">May-poles——</span></p> + +<p>The women would set them up; and when they had done, they would dance +round them (and the men for company) till they were all blind.</p> + +<p>The wife of the chaise-vamper stepp’d in, I told you, to take the +papilliotes from off her hair——the toilet stands still for +no man——so she jerk’d off her cap, to begin with them as she +open’d the door, in doing which, one of them fell upon the +ground——I instantly saw it was my own <span class = +"locked">writing——</span></p> + +<p>O Seigneur! cried I—you have got all my remarks upon your head, +Madam!——<i>J’en suis bien mortifiée</i>, said +she——’tis well, thinks I, they have stuck there—for +could they have gone deeper, they would have made such confusion in a +<i>French</i> woman’s noddle—She had better have gone with it +unfrizled, to the day of eternity.</p> + +<p><i>Tenez</i>—said she—so without any idea of the nature +of my suffering, she took them from her curls, and put them gravely one +by one into my hat——one was twisted this +way——another twisted that——ey! by my faith; and +when they are published, <span class = +"locked">quoth I,——</span></p> + +<p>They will be worse twisted still.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page389" id = "page389">389</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXXXIX" id = "bookVII_chapXXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">And</span> now for <i>Lippius’s</i> clock! +said I, with the air of a man, who had got thro’ all his +difficulties——nothing can prevent us seeing that, and the +<i>Chinese</i> history, &c., except the time, said +<i>François</i>——for ’tis almost eleven—Then we must +speed the faster, said I, striding it away to the cathedral.</p> + +<p>I cannot say, in my heart, that it gave me any concern in being told +by one of the minor canons, as I was entering the west door,—That +<i>Lippius’s</i> great clock was all out of joints, and had not gone for +some years——It will give me the more time, thought I, to +peruse the <i>Chinese</i> history; and besides I shall be able to give +the world a better account of the clock in its decay, than I could have +done in its flourishing <span class = +"locked">condition——</span></p> + +<p>——And so away I posted to the college of the Jesuits.</p> + +<p>Now it is with the project of getting a peep at the history of +<i>China</i> in <i>Chinese</i> characters—as with many others I +could mention, which strike the fancy only at a distance; for as I came +nearer and nearer to the point—my blood cool’d—the freak +gradually went off, till at length I would not have given a cherrystone +to have it gratified———The truth was, my time was +short, and my heart was at the Tomb of the +Lovers——I wish to God, said I, as I got the rapper in +my hand, that the key of the library may be but lost; it fell out as +<span class = "locked">well———</span></p> + +<p><i>For all the <span class = "smallcaps">Jesuits</span> had got the +cholic</i>—and to that degree, as never was known in the memory of +the oldest practitioner.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXL" id = "bookVII_chapXL"> +CHAPTER XL</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> I knew the geography of the Tomb +of the Lovers, as well as if I had lived twenty years in <i>Lyons</i>, +namely, that it was upon the turning of my right hand, just without the +gate, leading to the <i>Fauxbourg de +Vaise</i>——I dispatched <i>François</i> to the boat, +that I might pay the homage I so long ow’d it, without a witness of my +weakness—I walk’d with all imaginable joy towards the +place——when I saw the gate which intercepted the tomb, my +heart glowed within <span class = "locked">me——</span></p> + +<p>—Tender and faithful spirits! cried I, addressing myself to +<i>Amandus</i> and <i>Amanda</i>—long—long have I tarried to +drop this tear upon your <span class = +"locked">tomb———I come———I come———</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page390" id = "page390">390</a></span> +<p>When I came—there was no tomb to drop it upon.</p> + +<p>What would I have given for my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to have whistled +Lillabullero!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXLI" id = "bookVII_chapXLI"> +CHAPTER XLI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">No</span> matter how, or in what +mood—but I flew from the tomb of the lovers—or rather I did +not fly <i>from</i> it—(for there was no such thing existing) and +just got time enough to the boat to save my passage;—and ere I had +sailed a hundred yards, the <i>Rhône</i> and the <i>Saôn</i> met +together, and carried me down merrily betwixt them.</p> + +<p>But I have described this voyage down the <i>Rhône</i>, before I made +<span class = "locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>——So now I am at <i>Avignon</i>, and as there is nothing +to see but the old house, in which the duke of <i>Ormond</i> resided, +and nothing to stop me but a short remark upon the place, in three +minutes you will see me crossing the bridge upon a mule, with +<i>François</i> upon a horse with my portmanteau behind him, and the +owner of both, striding the way before us, with a long gun upon his +shoulder, and a sword under his arm, lest peradventure we should run +away with his cattle. Had you seen my breeches in entering +<i>Avignon</i>,——Though you’d have seen them better, +I think, as I mounted—you would not have thought the +precaution amiss, or found in your heart to have taken it in dudgeon; +for my own part, I took it most kindly; and determined to make him +a present of them, when we got to the end of our journey, for the +trouble they had put him to, of arming himself at all points against +them.</p> + +<p>Before I go further, let me get rid of my remark upon <i>Avignon</i>, +which is this: That I think it wrong, merely because a man’s hat has +been blown off his head by chance the first night he comes to +<i>Avignon</i>,——that he should therefore say, +“<i>Avignon</i> is more subject to high winds than any town in all +<i>France</i>:” for which reason I laid no stress upon the accident till +I had enquired of the master of the inn about it, who telling me +seriously it was so——and hearing, moreover, the windiness of +<i>Avignon</i> spoke of in the country about as a +proverb——I set it down, merely to ask the learned what +can be the cause——the consequence I saw—for they are +all Dukes, Marquisses, and Counts, there——the duce a Baron, +in all <i>Avignon</i>——so that there is scarce any talking +to them on a windy day.</p> + +<p>Prithee, friend, said I, take hold of my mule for a +moment——for +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page391" id = "page391">391</a></span> +I wanted to pull off one of my jack-boots, which hurt my heel—the +man was standing quite idle at the door of the inn, and as I had taken +it into my head, he was someway concerned about the house or stable, +I put the bridle into his hand—so begun with the +boot:—when I had finished the affair, I turned about to take +the mule from the man, and thank <span class = +"locked">him——</span></p> + +<p>———But <i>Monsieur le Marquis</i> had walked +in——</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXLII" id = "bookVII_chapXLII"> +CHAPTER XLII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I had</span> now the whole south of +<i>France</i>, from the banks of the <i>Rhône</i> to those of the +<i>Garonne</i>, to traverse upon my mule at my own leisure—<i>at +my own leisure</i>——for I had left Death, the Lord +knows——and He only—how far behind +me——“I have followed many a man thro’ <i>France</i>, +quoth he—but never at this mettlesome rate.”——Still he +followed,——and still I fled him——but I fled him +chearfully——still he pursued——but, like one who +pursued his prey without hope——as he lagg’d, every step he +lost, soften’d his looks——why should I fly him at this +rate?</p> + +<p>So notwithstanding all the commissary of the post-office had said, +I changed the <i>mode</i> of my travelling once more; and, after so +precipitate and rattling a course as I had run, I flattered my +fancy with thinking of my mule, and that I should traverse the rich +plains of <i>Languedoc</i> upon his back, as slowly as foot could +fall.</p> + +<p>There is nothing more pleasing to a traveller——or more +terrible to travel-writers, than a large rich plain; especially if it is +without great rivers or bridges; and presents nothing to the eye, but +one unvaried picture of plenty: for after they have once told you, that +’tis delicious! or delightful! (as the case happens)—that the +soil was grateful, and that nature pours out all her abundance, &c. +. . . they have then a large plain upon their hands, which +they know not what to do with—and which is of little or no use to +them but to carry them to some town; and that town, perhaps of little +more, but a new place to start from to the next plain——and +so on.</p> + +<p>—This is most terrible work; judge if I don’t manage my plains +better.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page392" id = "page392">392</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVII_chapXLIII" id = "bookVII_chapXLIII"> +CHAPTER XLIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I had</span> not gone above two leagues and +a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.</p> + +<p>I had three several times loiter’d <i>terribly</i> behind; half a +mile at least every time; once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, +who was making drums for the fairs of <i>Baucaira</i> and +<i>Tarascone</i>—I did not understand the <span class = +"locked">principles——</span></p> + +<p>The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp’d——for +meeting a couple of <i>Franciscans</i> straitened more for time than +myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was +about——I had turn’d back with <span class = +"locked">them——</span></p> + +<p>The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand-basket of +<i>Provence</i> figs for four sous; this would have been transacted at +once; but for a case of conscience at the close of it; for when the figs +were paid for, it turn’d out, that there were two dozen of eggs cover’d +over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket—as I had no +intention of buying eggs—I made no sort of claim of +them—as for the space they had occupied—what signified it? +I had figs enow for my <span class = +"locked">money——</span></p> + +<p>—But it was my intention to have the basket—it was the +gossip’s intention to keep it, without which, she could do nothing with +her eggs——and unless I had the basket, I could do as +little with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of ’em burst +at the side: this brought on a short contention, which terminated in +sundry proposals, what we should both <span class = +"locked">do——</span></p> + +<p>——How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you, or +the Devil himself, had he not been there (which I am persuaded he was), +to form the least probable conjecture: You will read the whole of +it———not this year, for I am hastening to the story of +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> amours—but you will read it in the +collection of those which have arose out of the journey across this +plain—and which, therefore, I call my</p> + +<h5 class = "smaller extended">PLAIN STORIES.</h5> + +<p>How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in +this journey of it, over so barren a track—the world must +judge—but the traces of it, which are now all set o’ vibrating +together this moment, tell me ’tis the most fruitful and busy period of +my life; for as I had made no convention with +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page393" id = "page393">393</a></span> +my man with the gun, as to time—by stopping and talking to every +soul I met, who was not in a full trot—joining all parties before +me—waiting for every soul behind—hailing all those who were +coming through cross-roads—arresting all kinds of beggars, +pilgrims, fiddlers, friars——not passing by a woman in a +mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into +conversation with a pinch of snuff———In short, by +seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held +out to me in this journey—I turned my <i>plain</i> into a +<i>city</i>—I was always in company, and with great variety +too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some +proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he +met—I am confident we could have passed through +<i>Pall-Mall</i>, or St. <i>James’s</i>-Street for a month together, +with fewer adventures—and seen less of human nature.</p> + +<p>O! there is that sprightly frankness, which at once unpins every +plait of a <i>Languedocian’s</i> dress—that whatever is beneath +it, it looks so like the simplicity which poets sing of in better +days—I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so.</p> + +<p>’Twas in the road betwixt <i>Nismes</i> and <i>Lunel</i>, where there +is the best <i>Muscatto</i> wine in all <i>France</i>, and which by the +bye belongs to the honest canons of <span class = +"smallcaps">Montpellier</span>—and foul befal the man who has +drank it at their table, who grudges them a drop of it.</p> + +<p>——The sun was set—they had done their work; the +nymphs had tied up their hair afresh—and the swains were preparing +for a carousal——my mule made a dead point——’Tis +the fife and tabourin, said I——I’m frighten’d to death, +quoth he——They are running at the ring of pleasure, said I, +giving him a prick——By saint <i>Boogar</i>, and all the +saints at the backside of the door of purgatory, said he—(making +the same resolution with the abbesse of <i>Andoüillets</i>) I’ll not go +a step further———’Tis very well, sir, said +I——I never will argue a point with one of your family, +as long as I live; so leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot +into this ditch, and t’other into that—I’ll take a dance, said +I—so stay you here.</p> + +<p>A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the groupe to meet me, as +I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chesnut approaching +rather to a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a single tress.</p> + +<p>We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as if to +offer them—And a cavalier ye shall have; said I, taking hold of +both of them.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page394" id = "page394">394</a></span> +<p>Hadst thou, <i>Nannette</i>, been array’d like a dutchesse!</p> + +<p>——But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!</p> + +<p><i>Nannette</i> cared not for it.</p> + +<p>We could not have done without you, said she, letting go one hand, +with self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.</p> + +<p>A lame youth, whom <i>Apollo</i> had recompensed with a pipe, and to +which he had added a tabourin of his own accord, ran sweetly over the +prelude, as he sat upon the bank——Tie me up this tress +instantly, said <i>Nannette</i>, putting a piece of string into my +hand—It taught me to forget I was a stranger——The +whole knot fell down——We had been seven years +acquainted.</p> + +<p>The youth struck the note upon the tabourin—his pipe followed, +and off we bounded——“the duce take that slit!”</p> + +<p>The sister of the youth, who had stolen her voice from heaven, sung +alternately with her brother——’twas a <i>Gascoigne</i> +roundelay.</p> + +<p class = "super smallroman"> +VIVA LA JOIA!<br /> +FIDON LA TRISTESSA!</p> + +<p>The nymphs join’d in unison, and their swains an octave below +them——</p> + +<p>I would have given a crown to have it sew’d up—<i>Nannette</i> +would not have given a <span class = +"smallroman">SOUS</span>—<i>Viva la joia!</i> was in her +lips—<i>Viva la joia!</i> was in her eyes. A transient spark +of amity shot across the space betwixt us——She look’d +amiable!——Why could I not live, and end my days thus? Just +Disposer of our joys and sorrows, cried I, why could not a man sit down +in the lap of content here——and dance, and sing, and say his +<ins class = "correction" title = "text has .">prayers,</ins> and go to +heaven with this nut-brown maid? Capriciously did she bend her head on +one side, and dance up insidious——Then ’tis time to dance +off, quoth I; so changing only partners and tunes, I danced it away +from <i>Lunel</i> to <i>Montpellier</i>——from thence to +<i>Pesçnas</i>, <i>Beziers</i>——I danced it along +through <i>Narbonne</i>, <i>Carcasson</i>, and <i>Castle Naudairy</i>, +till at last I danced myself into <i>Perdrillo’s</i> pavillion, where +pulling out a paper of black lines, that I might go on straight +forwards, without digression or parenthesis, in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +<span class = "locked">amours——</span></p> + +<p>I begun thus——</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_7_1" id = "note_7_1" href = "#tag_7_1">1.</a> +Vid. Book of French post roads, page 36, edition of 1762.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_7_2" id = "note_7_2" href = "#tag_7_2">2.</a> +Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, &c. &c. &c.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_7_3" id = "note_7_3" href = "#tag_7_3">3.</a> +Non orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam</p> +<p><img src = "images/onedash.gif" width = "95" height = "12" +alt = "----" /> ulla parem.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_7_4" id = "note_7_4" href = "#tag_7_4">4.</a> +The same Don <i>Pringello</i>, the celebrated <i>Spanish</i> architect, +of whom my cousin <i>Antony</i> has made such honourable mention in a +scholium to the Tale inscribed to his name.—Vid. p. 129, small +edit.</p> +</div> + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page395" id = "page395">395</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookVIII" id = "bookVIII">BOOK VIII</a></h3> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapI" id = "bookVIII_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">But</span> +softly——for in these sportive plains, and under this genial +sun, where at this instant all flesh is running out piping, fiddling, +and dancing to the vintage, and every step that’s taken, the judgment is +surprised by the imagination, I defy, notwithstanding all that has +been said upon <i>straight lines</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_8_1" id += "tag_8_1" href = "#note_8_1">1</a> in sundry pages of my +book—I defy the best cabbage planter that ever existed, +whether he plants backwards or forwards, it makes little difference in +the account (except that he will have more to answer for in the one case +than in the other)—I defy him to go on coolly, critically, +and canonically, planting his cabbages one by one, in straight lines, +and stoical distances, especially if slits in petticoats are unsew’d +up—without ever and anon straddling out, or sidling into some +bastardly digression——In <i>Freeze-land</i>, +<i>Fog-land</i>, and some other lands I wot of—it may be <span +class = "locked">done——</span></p> + +<p>But in this clear climate of fantasy and perspiration, where every +idea, sensible and insensible, gets vent—in this land, my dear +<i>Eugenius</i>—in this fertile land of chivalry and romance, +where I now sit, unskrewing my ink-horn to write my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +amours, and with all the meanders of <span class = +"smallcaps">Julia’s</span> track in quest of her <span class = +"smallcaps">Diego</span>, in full view of my study window—if thou +comest not and takest me by the <span class = +"locked">hand——</span></p> + +<p>What a work it is likely to turn out!</p> + +<p>Let us begin it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapII" id = "bookVIII_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is with <span class = +"smallroman">LOVE</span> as with <span class = +"smallroman">CUCKOLDOM</span>——</p> + +<p>But now I am talking of beginning a book, and have long had a thing +upon my mind to be imparted to the reader, which, if not imparted now, +can never be imparted to him as long as I live (whereas the <span class += "smallroman">COMPARISON</span> may be imparted to him any hour +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page396" id = "page396">396</a></span> +in the day)——I’ll just mention it, and begin in good +earnest.</p> + +<p>The thing is this.</p> + +<p>That of all the several ways of beginning a book which are now in +practice throughout the known world, I am confident my own way of +doing it is the best——I’m sure it is the most +religious——for I begin with writing the first +sentence——and trusting to Almighty God for the second.</p> + +<p>’Twould cure an author for ever of the fuss and folly of opening his +street-door, and calling in his neighbours and friends, and kinsfolk, +with the devil and all his imps, with their hammers and engines, +&c., only to observe how one sentence of mine follows another, and +how the plan follows the whole.</p> + +<p>I wish you saw me half starting out of my chair, with what +confidence, as I grasp the elbow of it, I look +up——catching the idea, even sometimes before it half way +reaches <span class = "locked">me——</span></p> + +<p>I believe in my conscience I intercept many a thought which heaven +intended for another man.</p> + +<p><i>Pope</i> and his Portrait<a class = "tag" name = "tag_8_2" id = +"tag_8_2" href = "#note_8_2">2</a> are fools to me——no +martyr is ever so full of faith or fire——I wish I could +say of good works too——but I have no</p> + +<p class = "super"> +Zeal or Anger——or<br /> +Anger or Zeal——</p> + +<p>And till gods and men agree together to call it by the same +name——the errantest <span class = +"smallcaps">Tartuffe</span>, in science—in politics—or in +religion, shall never kindle a spark within me, or have a worse word, or +a more unkind greeting, than what he will read in the next chapter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapIII" id = "bookVIII_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p>——Bonjour!——good morrow!——so you +have got your cloak on betimes!——but ’tis a cold morning, +and you judge the matter rightly——’tis better to be well +mounted, than go o’ foot——and obstructions in the glands are +dangerous——And how goes it with thy concubine—thy +wife,—and thy little ones o’ both sides? and when did you hear +from the old gentleman and lady—your sister, aunt, uncle, and +cousins——I hope they have got better of their colds, +coughs, claps, toothaches, fevers, stranguries, sciaticas, swellings, +and sore eyes.</p> + +<p>——What a devil of an apothecary! to take so much +blood—give such a vile +purge—puke—poultice—plaister—night-draught—clyster—blister?——And +why so many grains of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page397" id = "page397">397</a></span> +calomel? santa Maria! and such a dose of opium! periclitating, pardi! +the whole family of ye, from head to tail——By my great-aunt +<i>Dinah’s</i> old black velvet mask! I think there was no occasion +for it.</p> + +<p>Now this being a little bald about the chin, by frequently putting +off and on, <i>before</i> she was got with child by the +coachman—not one of our family would wear it after. To cover the +<span class = "smallroman">MASK</span> afresh, was more than the mask +was worth——and to wear a mask which was bald, or which could +be half seen through, was as bad as having no mask at <span class = +"locked">all——</span></p> + +<p>This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that in all our +numerous family, for these four generations, we count no more than one +archbishop, a <i>Welch</i> judge, some three or four aldermen, and +a single <span class = "locked">mountebank——</span></p> + +<p>In the sixteenth century, we boast of no less than a dozen +alchymists.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapIV" id = "bookVIII_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p>“<span class = "firstword">It</span> is with Love as with +Cuckoldom”——the suffering party is at least the +<i>third</i>, but generally the last in the house who knows anything +about the matter: this comes, as all the world knows, from having half a +dozen words for one thing; and so long, as what in this vessel of the +human frame, is <i>Love</i>—may be <i>Hatred</i>, in +that——<i>Sentiment</i> half a yard higher——and +<i>Nonsense</i>—————no, Madam,—not +there——I mean at the part I am now pointing to with my +forefinger——how can we help ourselves?</p> + +<p>Of all mortal, and immortal men too, if you please, who ever +soliloquized upon this mystic subject, my uncle <i>Toby</i> was the +worst fitted, to have push’d his researches, thro’ such a contention of +feelings; and he had infallibly let them all run on, as we do worse +matters, to see what they would turn out——had not +<i>Bridget’s</i> pre-notification of them to <i>Susannah</i>, and +<i>Susannah’s</i> repeated manifestoes thereupon to all the world, made +it necessary for my uncle <i>Toby</i> to look into the affair.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapV" id = "bookVIII_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Why</span> weavers, gardeners, and +gladiators—or a man with a pined leg (proceeding from some ailment +in the <i>foot</i>)—should ever have had some tender nymph +breaking her heart in secret +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page398" id = "page398">398</a></span> +for them, are points well and duly settled and accounted for by ancient +and modern physiologists.</p> + +<p>A water-drinker, provided he is a profess’d one, and does it without +fraud or covin, is precisely in the same predicament: not that, at first +sight, there is any consequence, or show of logic in it, “That a rill of +cold water dribbling through my inward parts, should light up a torch in +my <i>Jenny’s</i>—”</p> + +<p>——The proposition does not strike one; on the contrary, +it seems to run opposite to the natural workings of causes and <span +class = "locked">effects——</span></p> + +<p>But it shews the weakness and imbecility of human reason.</p> + +<p>——“And in perfect good health with it?”</p> + +<p>—The most perfect,—Madam, that friendship herself could +wish <span class = "locked">me——</span></p> + +<p>“And drink nothing!—nothing but water?”</p> + +<p>—Impetuous fluid! the moment thou pressest against the +flood-gates of the brain——see how they give <span class = +"locked">way!——</span></p> + +<p>In swims <span class = "smallcaps">Curiosity</span>, beckoning to her +damsels to follow—they dive into the centre of the <span class = +"locked">current——</span></p> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">Fancy</span> sits musing upon the bank, and +with her eyes following the stream, turns straws and bulrushes into +masts and bowsprits——And <span class = +"smallcaps">Desire</span>, with vest held up to the knee in one hand, +snatches at them, as they swim by her with the <span class = +"locked">other——</span></p> + +<p>O ye water-drinkers! is it then by this delusive fountain, that ye +have so often governed and turn’d this world about like a +mill-wheel—grinding the faces of the impotent—bepowdering +their ribs—bepeppering their noses, and changing sometimes even +the very frame and face of <span class = +"locked">nature——</span></p> + +<p>If I was you, quoth <i>Yorick</i>, I would drink more water, +<i>Eugenius</i>—And, if I was you, <i>Yorick</i>, replied +<i>Eugenius</i>, so would I.</p> + +<p>Which shews they had both read <i>Longinus</i>——</p> + +<p>For my own part, I am resolved never to read any book but my own, as +long as I live.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapVI" id = "bookVIII_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I wish</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> had been +a water-drinker; for then the thing had been accounted for, That the +first moment Widow <i>Wadman</i> saw him, she felt something stirring +within her in his favour—Something!—something.</p> + +<p>—Something perhaps more than friendship—less than +love—something—no +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page399" id = "page399">399</a></span> +matter what—no matter where—I would not give a single hair +off my mule’s tail, and be obliged to pluck it off myself (indeed the +villain has not many to spare, and is not a little vicious into the +bargain), to be let by your worships into the <span class = +"locked">secret——</span></p> + +<p>But the truth is, my uncle <i>Toby</i> was not a water-drinker; he +drank it neither pure nor mix’d, or any how, or any where, except +fortuitously upon some advanced posts, where better liquor was not to be +had——or during the time he was under cure; when the surgeon +telling him it would extend the fibres, and bring them sooner into +contact——my uncle <i>Toby</i> drank it for quietness +sake.</p> + +<p>Now as all the world knows, that no effect in nature can be produced +without a cause, and as it is as well known, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> +was neither a weaver—a gardener, or a +gladiator——unless as a captain, you will needs have him +one—but then he was only a captain of foot—and besides, the +whole is an equivocation——There is nothing left for us to +suppose, but that my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> leg——but that will +avail us little in the present hypothesis, unless it had proceeded from +some ailment <i>in the foot</i>—whereas his leg was not emaciated +from any disorder in his foot—for my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> leg was +not emaciated at all. It was a little stiff and awkward, from a total +disuse of it, for the three years he lay confined at my father’s house +in town; but it was plump and muscular, and in all other respects as +good and promising a leg as the other.</p> + +<p>I declare, I do not recollect any one opinion or passage of my life, +where my understanding was more at a loss to make ends meet, and torture +the chapter I had been writing, to the service of the chapter following +it, than in the present case: one would think I took a pleasure in +running into difficulties of this kind, merely to make fresh experiments +of getting out of ’em——Inconsiderate soul that thou art! +What! are not the unavoidable distresses with which, as an author and a +man, thou art hemm’d in on every side of thee——are they, +<i>Tristram</i>, not sufficient, but thou must entangle thyself still +more?</p> + +<p>Is it not enough that thou art in debt, and that thou hast ten +cart-loads of thy fifth and sixth volumes<a class = "tag" name = +"tag_8_3" id = "tag_8_3" href = "#note_8_3">3</a> still—still +unsold, and art almost at thy wit’s ends, how to get them off thy +hands?</p> + +<p>To this hour art thou not tormented with the vile asthma that thou +gattest in skating against the wind in <i>Flanders?</i> and is it but +two months ago, that in a fit of laughter, on seeing a +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page400" id = "page400">400</a></span> +cardinal make water like a quirister (with both hands) thou brakest a +vessel in thy lungs, whereby, in two hours, thou lost as many quarts of +blood; and hadst thou lost as much more, did not the faculty tell +thee———it would have amounted to a <span class = +"locked">gallon?———</span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapVII" id = "bookVIII_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">But</span> for heaven’s sake, +let us not talk of quarts or gallons——let us take the story +straight before us; it is so nice and intricate a one, it will scarce +bear the transposition of a single tittle; and, somehow or other, you +have got me thrust almost into the middle of <span class = +"locked">it—</span></p> + +<p>—I beg we may take more care.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapVIII" id = "bookVIII_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby</i> and the +corporal had posted down with so much heat and precipitation, to take +possession of the spot of ground we have so often spoke of, in order to +open their campaign as early as the rest of the allies; that they had +forgot one of the most necessary articles of the whole affair; it was +neither a pioneer’s spade, a pickax, or a <span class = +"locked">shovel—</span></p> + +<p>—It was a bed to lie on: so that as <i>Shandy-Hall</i> was at +that time unfurnished; and the little inn where poor <i>Le Fever</i> +died, not yet built; my uncle <i>Toby</i> was constrained to accept of a +bed at Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i>, for a night or two, till corporal +<i>Trim</i> (who to the character of an excellent valet, groom, cook, +sempster, surgeon, and engineer, superadded that of an excellent +upholsterer too), with the help of a carpenter and a couple of taylors, +constructed one in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house.</p> + +<p>A daughter of <i>Eve</i>, for such was widow <i>Wadman</i>, and ’tis +all the character I intend to give of <span class = +"locked">her—</span></p> + +<p>—“<i>That she was a perfect woman</i>—” had better be +fifty leagues off—or in her warm bed—or playing with a +case-knife—or anything you please—than make a man the object +of her attention, when the house and all the furniture is her own.</p> + +<p>There is nothing in it out of doors and in broad day-light, where a +woman has a power, physically speaking, of viewing a man in more lights +than one—but here, for her soul, she can see him in no light +without mixing something of her own goods and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page401" id = "page401">401</a></span> +chattels along with him——till by reiterated acts of such +combination, he gets foisted into her <span class = +"locked">inventory——</span></p> + +<p>—And then good night.</p> + +<p>But this is not matter of <span class = "smallcaps">System</span>; +for I have delivered that above——nor is it matter of <span +class = "smallcaps">Breviary</span>——for I make no man’s +creed but my own——nor matter of <span class = +"smallcaps">Fact</span>——at least that I know of; but ’tis +matter copulative and introductory to what follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapIX" id = "bookVIII_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I do</span> not speak it with regard to the +coarseness or cleanness of them—or the strength of their +gussets——but pray do not night-shifts differ from day-shifts +as much in this particular, as in anything else in the world; That they +so far exceed the others in length, that when you are laid down in them, +they fall almost as much below the feet, as the day-shifts fall short of +them?</p> + +<p>Widow <i>Wadman’s</i> night-shifts (as was the mode I suppose in King +<i>William’s</i> and Queen <i>Anne’s</i> reigns) were cut however after +this fashion; and if the fashion is changed (for in <i>Italy</i> they +are come to nothing)——so much the worse for the public; they +were two <i>Flemish</i> ells and a half in length; so that allowing a +moderate woman two ells, she had half an ell to spare, to do what she +would with.</p> + +<p>Now from one little indulgence gained after another, in the many +bleak and decemberly nights of a seven years widowhood, things had +insensibly come to this pass, and for the two last years had got +establish’d into one of the ordinances of the bed-chamber—That as +soon as Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> was put to bed, and had got her legs +stretched down to the bottom of it, of which she always gave +<i>Bridget</i> notice—<i>Bridget</i>, with all suitable decorum, +having first open’d the bed-cloaths at the feet, took hold of the +half-ell of cloth we are speaking of, and having gently, and with both +her hands, drawn it downwards to its furthest extension, and then +contracted it again side-long by four or five even plaits, she took a +large corking pin out of her sleeve, and with the point directed towards +her, pinn’d the plaits all fast together a little above the hem; which +done, she tuck’d all in tight at the feet, and wish’d her mistress a +good night.</p> + +<p>This was constant, and without any other variation than this; that on +shivering and tempestuous nights, when <i>Bridget</i> untuck’d the feet +of the bed, &c., to do this——she consulted no +thermometer but that of her own passions; and so performed it +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page402" id = "page402">402</a></span> +standing—kneeling—or squatting, according to the different +degrees of faith, hope, and charity, she was in, and bore towards her +mistress that night. In every other respect, the <i>etiquette</i> was +sacred, and might have vied with the most mechanical one of the most +inflexible bed-chamber in <i>Christendom</i>.</p> + +<p>The first night, as soon as the corporal had conducted my uncle +<i>Toby</i> upstairs, which was about ten——Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i> threw herself into her arm-chair, and crossing her left +knee with her right, which formed a resting-place for her elbow, she +reclin’d her cheek upon the palm of her hand, and leaning forwards +ruminated till midnight upon both sides of the question.</p> + +<p>The second night she went to her bureau, and having ordered +<i>Bridget</i> to bring her up a couple of fresh candles and leave them +upon the table, she took out her marriage-settlement, and read it over +with great devotion: and the third night (which was the last of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> stay) when <i>Bridget</i> had pull’d down the night-shift, +and was assaying to stick in the corking <span class = +"locked">pin——</span></p> + +<p>——With a kick of both heels at once, but at the same time +the most natural kick that could be kick’d in her +situation——for supposing * * * * + * * * * * to be the sun in its +<ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘meridan’">meridian</ins>, +it was a north-east kick——she kick’d the pin out of her +fingers——the <i>etiquette</i> which hung upon it, +down——down it fell to the ground, and was shiver’d into a +thousand atoms.</p> + +<p>From all which it was plain that widow <i>Wadman</i> was in love with +my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapX" id = "bookVIII_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby’s</i> head at that +time was full of other matters, so that it was not till the demolition +of <i>Dunkirk</i>, when all the other civilities of <i>Europe</i> were +settled, that he found leisure to return this.</p> + +<p>This made an armistice (that is, speaking with regard to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—but with respect to Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, +a vacancy)—of almost eleven years. But in all cases of this +nature, as it is the second blow, happen at what distance of time it +will, which makes the fray——I chuse for that reason to +call these the amours of my uncle <i>Toby</i> with Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, +rather than the amours of Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> with my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>This is not a distinction without a difference.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page403" id = "page403">403</a></span> +<p>It is not like the affair of <i>an old hat +cock’d</i>——and <i>a cock’d old hat</i>, about which your +reverences have so often been at odds with one another——but +there is a difference here in the nature of <span class = +"locked">things——</span></p> + +<p>And let me tell you, gentry, a wide one too.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXI" id = "bookVIII_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> as widow <i>Wadman</i> did love +my uncle <i>Toby</i>——and my uncle <i>Toby</i> did not love +widow <i>Wadman</i>, there was nothing for widow <i>Wadman</i> to do, +but to go on and love my uncle <i>Toby</i>——or let it +alone.</p> + +<p>Widow <i>Wadman</i> would do neither the one or the other.</p> + +<p>——Gracious heaven!——but I forget I am a +little of her temper myself; for whenever it so falls out, which it +sometimes does about the equinoxes, that an earthly goddess is so much +this, and that, and t’other, that I cannot eat my breakfast for +her——and that she careth not three halfpence whether I eat +my breakfast or <span class = "locked">no——</span></p> + +<p>——Curse on her! and so I send her to <i>Tartary</i>, and +from <i>Tartary</i> to <i>Terra del <ins class = "correction" title = +"spelling unchanged">Fuogo</ins></i>, and so on to the devil: in short, +there is not an infernal nitch where I do not take her divinityship and +stick it.</p> + +<p>But as the heart is tender, and the passions in these tides ebb and +flow ten times in a minute, I instantly bring her back again; and +as I do all things in extremes, I place her in the very centre of +the <span class = "locked">milky-way——</span></p> + +<p>Brightest of stars! thou wilt shed thy influence upon some +one———</p> + +<p>——The duce take her and her influence +too——for at that word I lose all patience——much +good may it do him!——By all that is hirsute and gashly! +I cry, taking off my furr’d cap, and twisting it round my +finger——I would not give sixpence for a dozen such!</p> + +<p>——But ’tis an excellent cap too (putting it upon my head, +and pressing it close to my ears)—and warm—and soft; +especially if you stroke it the right way—but alas! that will +never be my luck——(so here my philosophy is shipwreck’d +again).</p> + +<p>——No; I shall never have a finger in the pye (so here I +break my metaphor)——</p> + +<p>Crust and Crumb</p> + +<p>Inside and out</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page404" id = "page404">404</a></span> +<p>Top and bottom——I detest it, I hate it, I repudiate +it——I’m sick at the sight of <span class = +"locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>’Tis all pepper,</p> +<p><span class = "invisible">’Tis all </span>garlick,</p> +<p><span class = "invisible">’Tis all </span>staragen,</p> +<p><span class = "invisible">’Tis all </span>salt, and</p> +<p><span class = "invisible">’Tis all </span>devil’s +dung——by the great arch-cook of cooks, who does nothing, +I think, from morning to night, but sit down by the fire-side and +invent inflammatory dishes for us, I would not touch it for the +world——</p> + +<p>——<i>O Tristram! Tristram!</i> cried <i>Jenny</i>.</p> + +<p><i>O Jenny! Jenny!</i> replied I, and so went on with the twelfth +chapter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXII" id = "bookVIII_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p>——“Not touch it for the world,” did I +say——</p> + +<p>Lord, how I have heated my imagination with this metaphor!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXIII" id = "bookVIII_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Which</span> shows, let your reverences and +worships say what you will of it (for as for +<i>thinking</i>——all who do think—think pretty much +alike both upon it and other matters)——Love is certainly, at +least alphabetically speaking, one of the most</p> + +<table class = "inline" summary = "aligned text"> +<tr> +<td>A</td><td>gitating</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>B</td><td>ewitching</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>C</td><td>onfounded</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>D</td><td>evilish affairs of life—the most</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>E</td><td>xtravagant</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>F</td><td>utilitous</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>G</td><td>alligaskinish</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>H</td><td>andy-dandyish</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>I</td><td>racundulous (there is no K to it) and</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>L</td><td>yrical of all human passions: at the same time, the +most</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>M </td><td>isgiving</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>N</td><td>innyhammering</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>O</td><td>bstipating</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>P</td><td>ragmatical</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>S</td><td>tridulous</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>R idiculous—though by the bye the R should have gone +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page405" id = "page405">405</a></span> +first—But in short ’tis of such a nature, as my father once told +my uncle <i>Toby</i> upon the close of a long dissertation upon the +subject——“You can scarce,” said he, “combine two ideas +together upon it, brother <i>Toby</i>, without an +hypallage”——What’s that? cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>The cart before the horse, replied my father——</p> + +<p>——And what is he to do there? cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——</p> + +<p>Nothing, quoth my father, but to get in——or let it +alone.</p> + +<p>Now widow <i>Wadman</i>, as I told you before, would do neither the +one or the other.</p> + +<p>She stood however ready harnessed and caparisoned at all points, to +watch accidents.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXIV" id = "bookVIII_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> Fates, who certainly all +foreknew of these amours of widow <i>Wadman</i> and my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, had, from the first creation of matter and motion (and with +more courtesy than they usually do things of this kind), established +such a chain of causes and effects hanging so fast to one another, that +it was scarce possible for my uncle <i>Toby</i> to have dwelt in any +other house in the world, or to have occupied any other garden in +<i>Christendom</i>, but the very house and garden which join’d and laid +parallel to Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i>; this, with the advantage of a thickset +arbour in Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> garden, but planted in the hedge-row of +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>, put all the occasions into her hands which +Love-militancy wanted; she could observe my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> motions, +and was mistress likewise of his councils of war; and as his +unsuspecting heart had given leave to the corporal, through the +mediation of <i>Bridget</i>, to make her a wicker-gate of communication +to enlarge her walks, it enabled her to carry on her approaches to the +very door of the sentry-box; and sometimes out of gratitude, to make an +attack, and endeavour to blow my uncle <i>Toby</i> up in the very +sentry-box itself.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXV" id = "bookVIII_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is a great pity——but +’tis certain from every day’s observation of man, that he may be set on +fire like a candle, at either end—provided there is a sufficient +wick standing out; if there is not—there’s an end of the affair; +and if there is—by lighting +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page406" id = "page406">406</a></span> +it at the bottom, as the flame in that case has the misfortune generally +to put out itself—there’s an end of the affair again.</p> + +<p>For my part, could I always have the ordering of it which way I would +be burnt myself—for I cannot bear the thoughts of being burnt like +a beast—I would oblige a housewife constantly to light me at +the top; for then I should burn down decently to the socket; that is, +from my head to my heart, from my heart to my liver, from my liver to my +bowels, and so on by the meseraick veins and arteries, through all the +turns and lateral insertions of the intestines and their tunicles to the +blind <span class = "locked">gut——</span></p> + +<p>——I beseech you, doctor <i>Slop</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, interrupting him as he mentioned the <i>blind gut</i>, in a +discourse with my father the night my mother was brought to bed of +me——I beseech you, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to tell +me which is the blind gut; for, old as I am, I vow I do not know to +this day where it lies.</p> + +<p>The <i>blind gut</i>, answered doctor <i>Slop</i>, lies betwixt the +<i>Ilion</i> and <i>Colon</i>——</p> + +<p>In a man? said my father.</p> + +<p>——’Tis precisely the same, cried doctor <i>Slop</i>, in a +woman.——</p> + +<p>That’s more than I know; quoth my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXVI" id = "bookVIII_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">And</span> so to make sure of +both systems, Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> predetermined to light my uncle +<i>Toby</i> neither at this end or that; but, like a prodigal’s candle, +to light him, if possible, at both ends at once.</p> + +<p>Now, through all the lumber rooms of military furniture, including +both of horse and foot, from the great arsenal of <i>Venice</i> to the +<i>Tower</i> of <i>London</i> (exclusive), if Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had +been rummaging for seven years together, and with <i>Bridget</i> to help +her, she could not have found any one <i>blind</i> or <i>mantelet</i> so +fit for her purpose, as that which the expediency of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> affairs had fix’d up ready to her hands.</p> + +<p>I believe I have not told you——but I don’t +know——possibly I have——be it as it will, ’tis +one of the number of those many things, which a man had better do over +again, than dispute about it—That whatever town or fortress the +corporal was at work upon, during the course of their campaign, my uncle +<i>Toby</i> always took care, on the inside of his sentry-box, which was +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page407" id = "page407">407</a></span> +towards his left hand, to have a plan of the place, fasten’d up with two +or three pins at the top, but loose at the bottom, for the conveniency +of holding it up to the eye, &c. . . . as occasions +required; so that when an attack was resolved upon, Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> +had nothing more to do, when she had got advanced to the door of the +sentry-box, but to extend her right hand; and edging in her left foot at +the same movement, to take hold of the map or plan, or upright, or +whatever it was, and with out-stretched neck meeting it half +way,—to advance it towards her; on which my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +passions were sure to catch fire——for he would instantly +take hold of the other corner of the map in his left hand, and with the +end of his pipe in the other, begin an explanation.</p> + +<p>When the attack was advanced to this point;——the world +will naturally enter into the reasons of Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> next +stroke of generalship——which was, to take my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> tobacco-pipe out of his hand as soon as she possibly +could; which, under one pretence or other, but generally that of +pointing more distinctly at some redoubt or breastwork in the map, she +would effect before my uncle <i>Toby</i> (poor soul!) had well march’d +above half a dozen toises with it.</p> + +<p>—It obliged my uncle <i>Toby</i> to make use of his +forefinger.</p> + +<p>The difference it made in the attack was this; That in going upon it, +as in the first case, with the end of her forefinger against the end of +my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> tobacco-pipe, she might have travelled with it, +along the lines, from <i>Dan</i> to <i>Beersheba</i>, had my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> lines reach’d so far, without any effect: For as there was +no arterial or vital heat in the end of the tobacco-pipe, it could +excite no sentiment——it could neither give fire by +pulsation——or receive it by sympathy——’twas +nothing but smoke.</p> + +<p>Whereas, in following my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> forefinger with hers, +close thro’ all the little turns and indentings of his +works—pressing sometimes against the side of it——then +treading upon its nail——then tripping it +up——then touching it here——then there, and so +on——it set something at least in motion.</p> + +<p>This, tho’ slight skirmishing, and at a distance from the main body, +yet drew on the rest; for here, the map usually falling with the back of +it, close to the side of the sentry-box, my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in the +simplicity of his soul, would lay his hand flat upon it, in order to go +on with his explanation; and Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, by a manœuvre as quick +as thought, would as certainly place her’s close beside it; this at once +opened a communication, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page408" id = "page408">408</a></span> +large enough for any sentiment to pass or repass, which a person skill’d +in the elementary and practical part of love-making, has occasion <span +class = "locked">for——</span></p> + +<p>By bringing up her forefinger parallel (as before) to my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i>——it unavoidably brought the thumb into +action——and the forefinger and thumb being once engaged, as +naturally brought in the whole hand. Thine, dear uncle <i>Toby!</i> was +never now in its right place——Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had it ever +to take up, or, with the gentlest pushings, protrusions, and equivocal +compressions, that a hand to be removed is capable of +receiving——to get it press’d a hair breadth of one side out +of her way.</p> + +<p>Whilst this was doing, how could she forget to make him sensible, +that it was her leg (and no one’s else) at the bottom of the sentry-box, +which slightly press’d against the calf of his——So that my +uncle <i>Toby</i> being thus attacked and sore push’d on both his +wings——was it a wonder, if now and then, it put his centre +into <span class = "locked">disorder?——</span></p> + +<p>——The duce take it! said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXVII" id = "bookVIII_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">These</span> attacks of Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, +you will readily conceive to be of different kinds; varying from each +other, like the attacks which history is full of, and from the same +reasons. A general looker-on would scarce allow them to be attacks +at all——or if he did, would confound them all +together——but I write not to them: it will be time enough to +be a little more exact in my descriptions of them, as I come up to them, +which will not be for some chapters; having nothing more to add in this, +but that in a bundle of original papers and drawings which my father +took care to roll up by themselves, there is a plan of <i>Bouchain</i> +in perfect preservation (and shall be kept so, whilst I have power to +preserve anything), upon the lower corner of which, on the right hand +side, there is still remaining the marks of a snuffy finger and thumb, +which there is all the reason in the world to imagine, were Mrs. +<i>Wadman’s</i>; for the opposite side of the margin, which I suppose to +have been my uncle <i>Toby’s</i>, is absolutely clean: This seems an +authenticated record of one of these attacks; for there are vestigia of +the two punctures partly grown up, but still visible on the opposite +corner of the map, which are unquestionably the very holes, through +which it has been pricked up in the <span class = +"locked">sentry-box——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page409" id = "page409">409</a></span> +<p>By all that is priestly! I value this precious relick, with its +<i>stigmata</i> and <i>pricks</i>, more than all the relicks of the +<i>Romish</i> church——always excepting, when I am writing +upon these matters, the pricks which entered the flesh of St. +<i>Radagunda</i> in the desert, which in your road from <span class = +"smallcaps">Fesse</span> to <span class = "smallcaps">Cluny</span>, the +nuns of that name will shew you for love.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXVIII" id = "bookVIII_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I think</span>, an’ please your honour, +quoth <i>Trim</i>, the fortifications are quite +destroyed——and the bason is upon a level with the +mole——I think so too; replied my uncle <i>Toby</i> with +a sigh half suppress’d——but step into the parlour, +<i>Trim</i>, for the stipulation——it lies upon the +table.</p> + +<p>It has lain there these six weeks, replied the corporal, till this +very morning that the old woman kindled the fire with <span class = +"locked">it—</span></p> + +<p>——Then, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, there is no further +occasion for our services. The more, an’ please your honour, the pity, +said the corporal; in uttering which he cast his spade into the +wheel-barrow, which was beside him, with an air the most expressive of +disconsolation that can be imagined, and was heavily turning about to +look for his pickax, his pioneer’s shovel, his picquets, and other +little military stores, in order to carry them off the +field——when a heigh-ho! from the sentry-box, which being +made of thin slit deal, reverberated the sound more sorrowfully to his +ear, forbad him.</p> + +<p>——No; said the corporal to himself, I’ll do it before his +honour rises to-morrow morning; so taking his spade out of the +wheel-barrow again, with a little earth in it, as if to level something +at the foot of the glacis——but with a real intent to +approach nearer to his master, in order to divert him——he +loosen’d a sod or two——pared their edges with his spade, and +having given them a gentle blow or two with the back of it, he sat +himself down close by my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> feet, and began as +follows.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXIX" id = "bookVIII_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was a thousand +pities——though I believe, an’ please your honour, I am +going to say but a foolish kind of a thing for a <span class = +"locked">soldier——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page410" id = "page410">410</a></span> +<p>A soldier, cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, interrupting the corporal, is +no more exempt from saying a foolish thing, <i>Trim</i>, than a man of +letters——But not so often, an’ please your honour, replied +the corporal——My uncle <i>Toby</i> gave a nod.</p> + +<p>It was a thousand pities then, said the corporal, casting his eye +upon <i>Dunkirk</i>, and the mole, as <i>Servius Sulpicius</i>, in +returning out of <i>Asia</i> (when he sailed from <i>Ægina</i> towards +<i>Megara</i>), did upon <i>Corinth</i> and <span class = +"locked"><i>Pyreus</i>——</span></p> + +<p>—“It was a thousand pities, an’ please your honour, to destroy +these works——and a thousand pities to have let them <span +class = "locked">stood.”——</span></p> + +<p>——Thou art right, <i>Trim</i>, in both cases; said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.——This, continued the corporal, is the +reason, that from the beginning of their demolition to the +end——I have never once whistled, or sung, or laugh’d, +or cry’d, or talk’d of past done deeds, or told your honour one story +good or <span class = "locked">bad——</span></p> + +<p>——Thou hast many excellencies, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, and I hold it not the least of them, as thou happenest to +be a story-teller, that of the number thou hast told me, either to amuse +me in my painful hours, or divert me in my grave ones—thou hast +seldom told me a bad <span class = "locked">one——</span></p> + +<p>——Because, an’ please your honour, except one of a +<i>King of Bohemia and his seven castles</i>,—they are all true; +for they are about <span class = +"locked">myself——</span></p> + +<p>I do not like the subject the worse, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, on that score: But prithee what is this story? thou hast +excited my curiosity.</p> + +<p>I’ll tell it your honour, quoth the corporal, +directly—Provided, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking earnestly +towards <i>Dunkirk</i> and the mole again——provided it is +not a merry one; to such, <i>Trim</i>, a man should ever bring one +half of the entertainment along with him; and the disposition I am in at +present would wrong both thee, <i>Trim</i>, and thy +story——It is not a merry one by any means, replied the +corporal—Nor would I have it altogether a grave one, added my +uncle <i>Toby</i>——It is neither the one nor the other, +replied the corporal, but will suit your honour +exactly——Then I’ll thank thee for it with all my heart, +cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>; so prithee begin it, <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>The corporal made his reverence; and though it is not so easy a +matter as the world imagines, to pull off a lank <i>Montero</i>-cap with +grace——or a whit less difficult, in my conceptions, when a +man is sitting squat upon the ground, to make a bow so teeming with +respect as the corporal was wont; yet by suffering the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page411" id = "page411">411</a></span> +palm of his right hand, which was towards his master, to slip backwards +upon the grass, a little beyond his body, in order to allow it the +greater sweep——and by an unforced compression, at the same +time, of his cap with the thumb and the two forefingers of his left, by +which the diameter of the cap became reduced, so that it might be said, +rather to be insensibly squeez’d—than pull’d off with a +flatus——the corporal acquitted himself of both in a better +manner than the posture of his affairs promised; and having hemmed +twice, to find in what key his story would best go, and best suit his +master’s humour,—he exchanged a single look of kindness with him, +and set off thus.</p> + + +<h5><a name = "bookVIII_bohemia" id = "bookVIII_bohemia"> +THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES</a></h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> was a certain king of Bo - - +he———</p> + +<p>As the corporal was entering the confines of <i>Bohemia</i>, my uncle +<i>Toby</i> obliged him to halt for a single moment; he had set out +bare-headed, having, since he pull’d off his <i>Montero</i>-cap in the +latter end of the last chapter, left it lying beside him on the +ground.</p> + +<p>——The eye of Goodness espieth all things——so +that before the corporal had well got through the first five words of +his story, had my uncle <i>Toby</i> twice touch’d his <i>Montero</i>-cap +with the end of his cane, interrogatively——as much as to +say, Why don’t you put it on, <i>Trim?</i> <i>Trim</i> took it up with +the most respectful slowness, and casting a glance of humiliation as he +did it, upon the embroidery of the fore-part, which being dismally +tarnish’d and fray’d moreover in some of the principal leaves and +boldest parts of the pattern, he lay’d it down again between his two +feet, in order to moralise upon the subject.</p> + +<p>——’Tis every word of it but too true, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, that thou art about to <span class = +"locked">observe——</span></p> + +<p>“<i>Nothing in this world, Trim, is made to last for ever.</i>”</p> + +<p>——But when tokens, dear <i>Tom</i>, of thy love and +remembrance wear out, said <i>Trim</i>, what shall we say?</p> + +<p>There is no occasion, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, to say +anything else; and was a man to puzzle his brains till Doom’s day, +I believe, <i>Trim</i>, it would be impossible.</p> + +<p>The corporal, perceiving my uncle <i>Toby</i> was in the right, and +that it would be in vain for the wit of man to think of extracting a +purer moral from his cap, without further attempting it, he put it on; +and passing his hand across his forehead to rub out +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page412" id = "page412">412</a></span> +a pensive wrinkle, which the text and the doctrine between them had +engender’d, he return’d, with the same look and tone of voice, to his +story of the king of <i>Bohemia</i> and his seven castles.</p> + + +<h5>THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES, +CONTINUED</h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> was a certain king of +<i>Bohemia</i>, but in whose reign, except his own, I am not able +to inform your <span class = "locked">honour——</span></p> + +<p>I do not desire it of thee, <i>Trim</i>, by any means, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>——It was a little before the time, an’ please your +honour, when giants were beginning to leave off breeding:—but in +what year of our Lord that <span class = +"locked">was——</span></p> + +<p>I would not give a halfpenny to know, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>——Only, an’ please your honour, it makes a story look the +better in the <span class = "locked">face——</span></p> + +<p>——’Tis thy own, <i>Trim</i>, so ornament it after thy own +fashion; and take any date, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking +pleasantly upon him—take any date in the whole world thou chusest, +and put it to—thou art heartily <span class = +"locked">welcome——</span></p> + +<p>The corporal bowed; for of every century, and of every year of that +century, from the first creation of the world down to <i>Noah’s</i> +flood; and from <i>Noah’s</i> flood to the birth of <i>Abraham</i>; +through all the pilgrimages of the patriarchs, to the departure of the +<i>Israelites</i> out of <i>Egypt</i>——and throughout all +the Dynasties, Olympiads, Urbeconditas, and other memorable epochas of +the different nations of the world, down to the coming of Christ, and +from thence to the very moment in which the corporal was telling his +story——had my uncle <i>Toby</i> subjected this vast empire +of time and all its abysses at his feet; but as <span class = +"smallroman">MODESTY</span> scarce touches with a finger what <span +class = "smallroman">LIBERALITY</span> offers her with both hands +open—the corporal contented himself with the very <i>worst +year</i> of the whole bunch; which, to prevent your honours of the +Majority and Minority from tearing the very flesh off your bones in +contestation, ‘Whether that year is not always the last cast-year of the +last cast-almanack’——I tell you plainly it was; but +from a different reason than you wot <span class = +"locked">of——</span></p> + +<p>——It was the year next him——which being, the +year of our Lord seventeen hundred and twelve, when the Duke of +<i>Ormond</i> was playing the devil in <i>Flanders</i>——the +corporal took it, and set out with it afresh on his expedition to +<i>Bohemia</i>.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page413" id = "page413">413</a></span> + +<h5>THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES, +CONTINUED</h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> the year of our Lord one thousand +seven hundred and twelve, there was, an’ please your <span class = +"locked">honour——</span></p> + +<p>——To tell thee truly, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, any other date would have pleased me much better, not only +on account of the sad stain upon our history that year, in marching off +our troops, and refusing to cover the siege of <i>Quesnoi</i>, though +<i>Fagel</i> was carrying on the works with such incredible +vigour—but likewise on the score, <i>Trim</i>, of thy own story; +because if there are—and which, from what thou hast dropt, +I partly suspect to be the fact—if there are giants in <span +class = "locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>There is but one, an’ please your honour——</p> + +<p>——’Tis as bad as twenty, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——thou should’st have carried him back some seven +or eight hundred years out of harm’s way, both of critics and other +people: and therefore I would advise thee, if ever thou tellest it <span +class = "locked">again——</span></p> + +<p>——If I live, an’ please your honour, but once to get +through it, I will never tell it again, quoth <i>Trim</i>, either +to man, woman, or child——Poo—poo! said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—but with accents of such sweet encouragement did he +utter it, that the corporal went on with his story with more alacrity +than ever.</p> + + +<h5>THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES, +CONTINUED</h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> was, an’ please your honour, +said the corporal, raising his voice and rubbing the palms of his two +hands cheerily together as he begun, a certain king of <span class += "locked"><i>Bohemia</i>——</span></p> + +<p>——Leave out the date entirely, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, leaning forwards, and laying his hand gently upon the +corporal’s shoulder to temper the interruption—leave it out +entirely, <i>Trim</i>; a story passes very well without these +niceties, unless one is pretty sure of ’em——Sure of ’em! +said the corporal, shaking his <span class = +"locked">head——</span></p> + +<p>Right; answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>, it is not easy, <i>Trim</i>, +for one, bred up as thou and I have been to arms, who seldom looks +further forward than to the end of his musket, or backwards beyond his +knapsack, to know much about this matter——God bless your +honour! said the corporal, won by the <i>manner</i> of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> reasoning, as much as by the reasoning itself, he +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page414" id = "page414">414</a></span> +has something else to do; if not on action, or a march, or upon duty in +his garrison—he has his firelock, an’ please your honour, to +furbish—his accoutrements to take care of—his regimentals to +mend—himself to shave and keep clean, so as to appear always like +what he is upon the parade; what business, added the corporal +triumphantly, has a soldier, an’ please your honour, to know anything at +all of <i>geography?</i></p> + +<p>——Thou would’st have said <i>chronology</i>, <i>Trim</i>, +said my uncle <i>Toby</i>; for as for geography, ’tis of absolute use to +him; he must be acquainted intimately with every country and its +boundaries where his profession carries him; he should know every town +and city, and village and hamlet, with the canals, the roads, and hollow +ways which lead up to them; there is not a river or a rivulet he passes, +<i>Trim</i>, but he should be able at first sight to tell thee what is +its name—in what mountains it takes its rise—what is its +course—how far it is navigable—where fordable—where +not; he should know the fertility of every valley, as well as the hind +who ploughs it; and be able to describe, or, if it is required, to give +thee an exact map of all the plains and defiles, the forts, the +acclivities, the woods and morasses, thro’ and by which his army is to +march; he should know their produce, their plants, their minerals, their +waters, their animals, their seasons, their climates, their heats and +cold, their inhabitants, their customs, their language, their policy, +and even their religion.</p> + +<p>Is it else to be conceived, corporal, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +rising up in his sentry-box, as he began to warm in this part of his +discourse—how <i>Marlborough</i> could have marched his army from +the banks of the <i>Maes</i> to <i>Belburg</i>; from <i>Belburg</i> to +<i>Kerpenord</i>—(here the corporal could sit no longer) from +<i>Kerpenord</i>, <i>Trim</i>, to <i>Kalsaken</i>; from <i>Kalsaken</i> +to <i>Newdorf</i>; from <i>Newdorf</i> to <i>Landenbourg</i>; from +<i>Landenbourg</i> to <i>Mildenheim</i>; from <i>Mildenheim</i> to +<i>Elchingen</i>; from <i>Elchingen</i> to <i>Gingen</i>; from +<i>Gingen</i> to <i>Balmerchoffen</i>; from <i>Balmerchoffen</i> to +<i>Skellenburg</i>, where he broke in upon the enemy’s works; forced his +passage over the <i>Danube</i>; cross’d the <i>Lech</i>—push’d on +his troops into the heart of the empire, marching at the head of them +through <i>Fribourg</i>, <i>Hokenwert</i>, and <i>Schonevelt</i>, to the +plains of <i>Blenheim</i> and <i>Hochstet?</i>——Great as he +was, corporal, he could not have advanced a step, or made one single +day’s march without the aids of <i>Geography</i>.——As for +<i>Chronology</i>, I own, <i>Trim</i>, continued my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, sitting down again coolly in his sentry-box, that of all +others, it seems a science which the soldier might +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page415" id = "page415">415</a></span> +best spare, was it not for the lights which that science must one day +give him, in determining the invention of powder; the furious execution +of which, renversing everything like thunder before it, has become a new +æra to us of military improvements, changing so totally the nature of +attacks and defences both by sea and land, and awakening so much art and +skill in doing it, that the world cannot be too exact in ascertaining +the precise time of its discovery, or too inquisitive in knowing what +great man was the discoverer, and what occasions gave birth +to it.</p> + +<p>I am far from controverting, continued my uncle <i>Toby</i>, what +historians agree in, that in the year of our Lord 1380, under the reign +of <i>Wencelaus</i>, son of <i>Charles</i> the +Fourth——a certain priest, whose name was +<i>Schwartz</i>, show’d the use of powder to the <i>Venetians</i>, in +their wars against the <i>Genoese</i>; but ’tis certain he was not the +first; because if we are to believe Don <i>Pedro</i>, the bishop of +<i>Leon</i>—How came priests and bishops, an’ please your honour, +to trouble their heads so much about gunpowder? God knows, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——his providence brings good out of +everything—and he avers, in his chronicle of King +<i>Alphonsus</i>, who reduced <i>Toledo</i>, That in the year 1343, +which was full thirty-seven years before that time, the secret of powder +was well known, and employed with success, both by Moors and Christians, +not only in their sea-combats, at that period, but in many of their most +memorable sieges in <i>Spain</i> and <i>Barbary</i>—And all the +world knows, that Friar <i>Bacon</i> had wrote expressly about it, and +had generously given the world a receipt to make it by, above a hundred +and fifty years before even <i>Schwartz</i> was born—And that the +<i>Chinese</i>, added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, embarrass us, and all +accounts of it, still more, by boasting of the invention some hundreds +of years even before <span class = "locked">him——</span></p> + +<p>—They are a pack of liars, I believe, cried +<i>Trim</i>——</p> + +<p>——They are somehow or other deceived, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, in this matter, as is plain to me from the present +miserable state of military architecture amongst them; which consists of +nothing more than a fossé with a brick wall without flanks—and for +what they gave us as a bastion at each angle of it, ’tis so barbarously +constructed, that it looks for all the +world——————Like one of my seven +castles, an’ please your honour, quoth <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i>, tho’ in the utmost distress for a comparison, +most courteously refused <i>Trim’s</i> offer—till <i>Trim</i> +telling him, he had half a dozen more in <i>Bohemia</i>, which he knew +not how to get off his hands——my uncle <i>Toby</i> was so +touch’d with the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page416" id = "page416">416</a></span> +pleasantry of heart of the corporal——that he discontinued +his dissertation upon gunpowder——and begged the corporal +forthwith to go on with his story of the King of <i>Bohemia</i> and his +seven castles.</p> + + +<h5>THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES, +CONTINUED</h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">This</span> <i>unfortunate</i> King of +<i>Bohemia</i>, said <i>Trim</i>,——Was he unfortunate, then? +cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, for he had been so wrapt up in his +dissertation upon gunpowder, and other military affairs, that tho’ he +had desired the corporal to go on, yet the many interruptions he had +given, dwelt not so strong upon his fancy as to account for the +epithet——Was he <i>unfortunate</i>, then, <i>Trim?</i> said +my uncle <i>Toby</i>, pathetically——The corporal, wishing +first the <i>word</i> and all its synonimas at the devil, forthwith +began to run back in his mind, the principal events in the King of +<i>Bohemia’s</i> story; from every one of which, it appearing that he +was the most fortunate man that ever existed in the +world——it put the corporal to a stand: for not caring to +retract his epithet——and less to explain it——and +least of all, to twist his tale (like men of lore) to serve a +system——he looked up in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> face for +assistance——but seeing it was the very thing my uncle +<i>Toby</i> sat in expectation of himself——after a hum and a +haw, he went <span class = "locked">on———</span></p> + +<p>The King of <i>Bohemia</i>, an’ please your honour, replied the +corporal, was <i>unfortunate</i>, as thus——That taking great +pleasure and delight in navigation and all sort of sea +affairs——and there <i>happening</i> throughout the whole +kingdom of <i>Bohemia</i>, to be no seaport town <span class = +"locked">whatever——</span></p> + +<p>How the duce should there—<i>Trim?</i> cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; for <i>Bohemia</i> being totally inland, it could have +happen’d no otherwise——It might, said <i>Trim</i>, if it had +pleased <span class = "locked">God——</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> never spoke of the being and natural attributes +of God, but with diffidence and <span class = +"locked">hesitation——</span></p> + +<p>——I believe not, replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>, after some +pause——for being inland, as I said, and having +<i>Silesia</i> and <i>Moravia</i> to the east; <i>Lusatia</i> and +<i>Upper Saxony</i> to the north; <i>Franconia</i> to the west; +<i>Bavaria</i> to the south; <i>Bohemia</i> could not have been +propell’d to the sea without ceasing to be +<i>Bohemia</i>——nor could the sea, on the other hand, have +come up to <i>Bohemia</i>, without overflowing a great part of +<i>Germany</i>, and destroying millions of unfortunate inhabitants who +could make no defence +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page417" id = "page417">417</a></span> +against it——Scandalous! cried <i>Trim</i>—Which would +bespeak, added my uncle <i>Toby</i>, mildly, such a want of compassion +in him who is the father of it——that, I think, +<i>Trim</i>——the thing could have happen’d no way.</p> + +<p>The corporal made the bow of unfeigned conviction; and went on.</p> + +<p>Now the King of <i>Bohemia</i> with his queen and courtiers +<i>happening</i> one fine summer’s evening to walk out——Aye! +there the word <i>happening</i> is right, <i>Trim</i>, cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; for the King of <i>Bohemia</i> and his queen might have +walk’d out or let it alone:——’twas a matter of contingency, +which might happen, or not, just as chance ordered it.</p> + +<p>King <i>William</i> was of an opinion, an’ please your honour, quoth +<i>Trim</i>, that everything was predestined for us in this world; +insomuch, that he would often say to his soldiers, that “every ball had +its billet.” He was a great man, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——And I believe, continued <i>Trim</i>, to this +day, that the shot which disabled me at the battle of <i>Landen</i>, was +pointed at my knee for no other purpose, but to take me out of his +service, and place me in your honour’s, where I should be taken so much +better care of in my old age——It shall never, <i>Trim</i>, +be construed otherwise, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>The heart, both of the master and the man, were alike subject to +sudden overflowings;——a short silence ensued.</p> + +<p>Besides, said the corporal, resuming the discourse—but in a +gayer accent——if it had not been for that single shot, +I had never, an’ please your honour, been in <span class = +"locked">love———</span></p> + +<p>So, thou wast once in love, <i>Trim!</i> said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +smiling——</p> + +<p>Souse! replied the corporal—over head and ears! an’ please your +honour. Prithee when? where?—and how came it to +pass?——I never heard one word of it before; quoth my +uncle <i>Toby</i>:——I dare say, answered <i>Trim</i>, +that every drummer and serjeant’s son in the regiment knew of +it——It’s high time I should——said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>Your honour remembers with concern, said the corporal, the total rout +and confusion of our camp and army at the affair of <i>Landen</i>; every +one was left to shift for himself; and if it had not been for the +regiments of <i>Wyndham</i>, <i>Lumley</i>, and <i>Galway</i>, which +covered the retreat over the bridge of <i>Neerspeeken</i>, the king +himself could scarce have gained it——he was press’d hard, as +your honour knows, on every side of <span class = +"locked">him——</span></p> + +<p>Gallant mortal! cried my uncle <i>Toby</i>, caught up with +enthusiasm—this +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page418" id = "page418">418</a></span> +moment, now that all is lost, I see him galloping across me, +corporal, to the left, to bring up the remains of the English horse +along with him to support the right, and tear the laurel from +<i>Luxembourg’s</i> brows, if yet ’tis possible——I see +him with the knot of his scarfe just shot off, infusing fresh spirits +into poor <i>Galway’s</i> regiment—riding along the +line—then wheeling about, and charging <i>Conti</i> at the head of +it——Brave! brave, by heaven! cried my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—he deserves a crown——As richly, as a thief +a halter; shouted <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> knew the corporal’s loyalty;—otherwise the +comparison was not at all to his mind——it did not altogether +strike the corporal’s fancy when he had made it——but it +could not be recall’d——so he had nothing to do, but +proceed.</p> + +<p>As the number of wounded was prodigious, and no one had time to think +of anything but his own safety—Though <i>Talmash</i>, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, brought off the foot with great +prudence——But I was left upon the field, said the corporal. +Thou wast so; poor fellow! replied my uncle <i>Toby</i>——So +that it was noon the next day, continued the corporal, before I was +exchanged, and put into a cart with thirteen or fourteen more, in order +to be convey’d to our hospital.</p> + +<p>There is no part of the body, an’ please your honour, where a wound +occasions more intolerable anguish than upon the <span class = +"locked">knee——</span></p> + +<p>Except the groin; said my uncle <i>Toby</i>. An’ please your honour, +replied the corporal, the knee, in my opinion, must certainly be the +most acute, there being so many tendons and what-d’ye-call-’ems all +about it.</p> + +<p>It is for that reason, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, that the groin is +infinitely more sensible——there being not only as many +tendons and what-d’ye-call-’ems (for I know their names as little as +thou dost)——about it——but moreover <span class = +"locked">* * *——</span></p> + +<p>Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, who had been all the time in her +arbour—instantly stopp’d her breath—unpinn’d her mob at the +chin, and stood up upon one <span class = +"locked">leg——</span></p> + +<p>The dispute was maintained with amicable and equal force betwixt my +uncle <i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i> for some time; till <i>Trim</i> at +length recollecting that he had often cried at his master’s sufferings, +but never shed a tear at his own—was for giving up the point, +which my uncle <i>Toby</i> would not allow——’Tis a proof of +nothing, <i>Trim</i>, said he, but the generosity of thy <span class = +"locked">temper——</span></p> + +<p>So that whether the pain of a wound in the groin (cæteris paribus) is +greater than the pain of a wound in the knee——or</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page419" id = "page419">419</a></span> +<p>Whether the pain of a wound in the knee is not greater than the pain +of a wound in the groin——are points which to this day remain +unsettled.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXX" id = "bookVIII_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> anguish of my knee, continued +the corporal, was excessive in itself; and the uneasiness of the cart, +with the roughness of the roads, which were terribly cut up—making +bad still worse—every step was death to me: so that with the loss +of blood, and the want of care-taking of me, and a fever I felt coming +on besides——(Poor soul! said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>)——all together, an’ please your honour, was more +than I could sustain.</p> + +<p>I was telling my sufferings to a young woman at a peasant’s house, +where our cart, which was the last of the line, had halted; they had +help’d me in, and the young woman had taken a cordial out of her pocket +and dropp’d it upon some sugar, and seeing it had cheer’d me, she had +given it me a second and a third time——So I was telling her, +an’ please your honour, the anguish I was in, and was saying it was so +intolerable to me, that I had much rather lie down upon the bed, turning +my face towards one which was in the corner of the room—and die, +than go on——when, upon her attempting to lead me to it, +I fainted away in her arms. She was a good soul! as your honour, +said the corporal, wiping his eyes, will hear.</p> + +<p>I thought <i>love</i> had been a joyous thing, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>’Tis the most serious thing, an’ please your honour (sometimes), that +is in the world.</p> + +<p>By the persuasion of the young woman, continued the corporal, the +cart with the wounded men set off without me: she had assured them I +should expire immediately if I was put into the cart. So when I came to +myself——I found myself in a still quiet cottage, with +no one but the young woman, and the peasant and his wife. I was +laid across the bed in the corner of the room, with my wounded leg upon +a chair, and the young woman beside me, holding the corner of her +handkerchief dipp’d in vinegar to my nose with one hand, and rubbing my +temples with the other.</p> + +<p>I took her at first for the daughter of the peasant (for it was no +inn)—so had offer’d her a little purse with eighteen florins, +which my poor brother <i>Tom</i> (here <i>Trim</i> wip’d his eyes) had +sent me as a token, by a recruit, just before he set out for <span class += "locked"><i>Lisbon</i>.——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page420" id = "page420">420</a></span> +<p>——I never told your honour that piteous story +yet——here <i>Trim</i> wiped his eyes a third time.</p> + +<p>The young woman call’d the old man and his wife into the room, to +show them the money, in order to gain me credit for a bed and what +little necessaries I should want, till I should be in a condition to be +got to the hospital——Come then! said she, tying up the +little purse—I’ll be your banker—but as that office alone +will not keep me employ’d, I’ll be your nurse too.</p> + +<p>I thought by her manner of speaking this, as well as by her dress, +which I then began to consider more attentively——that the +young woman could not be the daughter of the peasant.</p> + +<p>She was in black down to her toes, with her hair conceal’d under a +cambric border, laid close to her forehead: she was one of those kind of +nuns, an’ please your honour, of which, your honour knows, there are a +good many in <i>Flanders</i>, which they let go loose——By +thy description, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I dare say +she was a young <i>Beguine</i>, of which there are none to be found +anywhere but in the <i>Spanish Netherlands</i>—except at +<i>Amsterdam</i>——they differ from nuns in this, that they +can quit their cloister if they choose to marry; they visit and take +care of the sick by profession——I had rather, for my +own part, they did it out of good-nature.</p> + +<p>——She often told me, quoth <i>Trim</i>, she did it for +the love of Christ—I did not like +it.——I believe, <i>Trim</i>, we are both wrong, said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>—we’ll ask Mr. <i>Yorick</i> about it to-night at +my brother <i>Shandy’s</i>——so put me in mind; added my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>The young <i>Beguine</i>, continued the corporal, had scarce given +herself time to tell me “she would be my nurse,” when she hastily turned +about to begin the office of one, and prepare something for +me——and in a short time—though I thought it a long +one—she came back with flannels, &c. &c., and having +fomented my knee soundly for a couple of hours, &c., and made me a +thin bason of gruel for my supper—she wish’d me rest, and promised +to be with me early in the morning.——She wished me, an’ +please your honour, what was not to be had. My fever ran very high that +night—her figure made sad disturbance within me—I was +every moment cutting the world in two—to give her half of +it—and every moment was I crying, That I had nothing but a +knapsack and eighteen florins to share with her——The whole +night long was the fair <i>Beguine</i>, like an angel, close by my +bedside, holding back the curtain and offering me cordials—and I +was only awakened from my dream by her +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page421" id = "page421">421</a></span> +coming there at the hour promised, and giving them in reality. In truth, +she was scarce ever from me; and so accustomed was I to receive life +from her hands, that my heart sickened, and I lost colour when she left +the room: and yet, continued the corporal (making one of the strangest +reflections upon it in the <span class = +"locked">world)——</span></p> + +<p>——“<i>It was not love</i>”——for during the +three weeks she was almost constantly with me, fomenting my knee with +her hand, night and day—I can honestly say, an’ please your +honour—that +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * </span>* + once.</p> + +<p>That was very odd, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>I think so too—said Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>.</p> + +<p>It never did, said the corporal.</p> + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXI" id = "bookVIII_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">But</span> ’tis no marvel, +continued the corporal—seeing my uncle <i>Toby</i> musing upon +it—for Love, an’ please your honour, is exactly like war, in this; +that a soldier, though he has escaped three weeks complete o’ +<i>Saturday</i> night,—may nevertheless be shot through his heart +on <i>Sunday</i> morning——<i>It happened so here</i>, an’ +please your honour, with this difference only—that it was on +<i>Sunday</i> in the afternoon, when I fell in love all at once with a +sisserara——It burst upon me, an’ please your honour, like a +bomb——scarce giving me time to say, “God bless me.”</p> + +<p>I thought, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, a man never fell +in love so very suddenly.</p> + +<p>Yes, an’ please your honour, if he is in the way of +it——replied <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>I prithee, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, inform me how this matter +happened.</p> + +<p>——With all pleasure, said the corporal, making a bow.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXII" id = "bookVIII_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I had</span> escaped, continued the +corporal, all that time from falling in love, and had gone on to the end +of the chapter, had it not been predestined otherwise——there +is no resisting our fate.</p> + +<p>It was on a <i>Sunday</i>, in the afternoon, as I told your +honour.</p> + +<p>The old man and his wife had walked out——</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page422" id = "page422">422</a></span> +<p>Everything was still and hush as midnight about the +house——</p> + +<p>There was not so much as a duck or a duckling about the +yard——</p> + +<p>——When the fair <i>Beguine</i> came in to see me.</p> + +<p>My wound was then in a fair way of doing well——the +inflammation had been gone off for some time, but it was succeeded with +an itching both above and below my knee, so insufferable, that I had not +shut my eyes the whole night for it.</p> + +<p>Let me see it, said she, kneeling down upon the ground parallel to my +knee, and laying her hand upon the part below it——it only +wants rubbing a little, said the <i>Beguine</i>; so covering it with the +bed-clothes, she began with the forefinger of her right hand to rub +under my knee, guiding her forefinger backwards and forwards by the edge +of the <i>flannel</i> which kept on the dressing.</p> + +<p>In five or six minutes I felt slightly the end of her second +finger—and presently it was laid flat with the other, and she +continued rubbing in that way round and round for a good while; it then +came into my head, that I should fall in love—I blush’d when +I saw how white a hand she had—I shall never<ins class = +"correction" title = "comma missing at line-end">, </ins>an’ please +your honour, behold another hand so white whilst I <span class = +"locked">live——</span></p> + +<p>——Not in that place; said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——</p> + +<p>Though it was the most serious despair in nature to the +corporal—he could not forbear smiling.</p> + +<p>The young <i>Beguine</i>, continued the corporal, perceiving it was +of great service to me—from rubbing for some time, with two +fingers—proceeded to rub at length, with three—till by +little and little she brought down the fourth, and then rubb’d with her +whole hand: I will never say another word, an’ please your honour, +upon hands again—but it was softer than <span class = +"locked">sattin—</span></p> + +<p>——Prithee, <i>Trim</i>, commend it as much as thou wilt, +said my uncle <i>Toby</i>; I shall hear thy story with the more +delight——The corporal thank’d his master most unfeignedly; +but having nothing to say upon the <i>Beguine’s</i> hand but the same +over again——he proceeded to the effects of it.</p> + +<p>The fair <i>Beguine</i>, said the corporal, continued rubbing with +her whole hand under my knee—till I fear’d her zeal would weary +her——“I would do a thousand times more,” said she, “for +the love of Christ”——In saying which, she pass’d her hand +across the flannel, to the part above my knee, which I had equally +complain’d of, and rubb’d it also.</p> + +<p>I perceived, then, I was beginning to be in love——</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page423" id = "page423">423</a></span> +<p>As she continued rub-rub-rubbing—I felt it spread from under +her hand, an’ please your honour, to every part of my <span class = +"locked">frame.——</span></p> + +<p>The more she rubb’d, and the longer strokes she took——the +more the fire kindled in my veins——till at length, by two or +three strokes longer than the rest——my passion rose to the +highest pitch——I seiz’d her <span class = +"locked">hand——</span></p> + +<p>——And then thou clapped’st it to thy lips, <i>Trim</i>, +said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——and madest a speech.</p> + +<p>Whether the corporal’s amour terminated precisely in the way my uncle +<i>Toby</i> described it, is not material; it is enough that it +contained in it the essence of all the love romances which ever have +been wrote since the beginning of the world.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXIII" id = "bookVIII_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> soon as the corporal had finished +the story of his amour—or rather my uncle <i>Toby</i> for +him—Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> silently sallied forth from her arbour, +replaced the pin in her mob, pass’d the wicker-gate, and advanced slowly +towards my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> sentry-box: the disposition which +<i>Trim</i> had made in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> mind, was too favourable +a crisis to be let <span class = +"locked">slipp’d——</span></p> + +<p>——The attack was determin’d upon: it was facilitated +still more by my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> having ordered the corporal to +wheel off the pioneer’s shovel, the spade, the pick-axe, the picquets, +and other military stores which lay scatter’d upon the ground where +<i>Dunkirk</i> stood—the corporal had march’d—the field was +clear.</p> + +<p>Now, consider, sir, what nonsense it is, either in fighting, or +writing, or anything else (whether in rhyme to it, or not) which a man +has occasion to do—to act by plan: for if ever Plan, independent +of all circumstances, deserved registering in letters of gold +(I mean in the archives of <i>Gotham</i>)—it was certainly +the <span class = "smallcaps">Plan</span> of Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> attack +of my uncle <i>Toby</i> in his sentry-box, <span class = "smallcaps">by +Plan</span>——Now the plan hanging up in it at this juncture, +being the Plan of <i>Dunkirk</i>—and the tale of <i>Dunkirk</i> a +tale of relaxation, it opposed every impression she could make: and +besides, could she have gone upon it—the manœuvre of fingers and +hands in the attack of the sentry-box, was so outdone by that of the +fair <i>Beguine’s</i>, in <i>Trim’s</i> story—that just then, that +particular attack, however successful before—became the most +heartless attack that could be <span class = +"locked">made——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page424" id = "page424">424</a></span> +<p>O! let woman alone for this. Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had scarce open’d the +wicket-gate, when her genius sported with the change of +circumstances.</p> + +<p>——She formed a new attack in a moment.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXIV" id = "bookVIII_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p>——I am half distracted, captain <i>Shandy</i>, said Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i>, holding up her cambrick handkerchief to her left eye, as +she approach’d the door of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +sentry-box——a mote——or sand——or +something——I know not what, has got into this eye of +mine——do look into it—it is not in the <span class = +"locked">white—</span></p> + +<p>In saying which, Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> edged herself close in beside my +uncle <i>Toby</i>, and squeezing herself down upon the corner of his +bench, she gave him an opportunity of doing it without rising +up——Do look into it—said she.</p> + +<p>Honest soul! thou didst look into it with as much innocency of heart, +as ever child look’d into a raree-shew-box; and ’twere as much a sin to +have hurt thee.</p> + +<p>——If a man will be peeping of his own accord into things +of that nature——I’ve nothing to say to <span class = +"locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> never did: and I will answer for him, that he +would have sat quietly upon a sofa from <i>June</i> to <i>January</i> +(which, you know, takes in both the hot and cold months), with an eye as +fine as the <i>Thracian</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_8_4" id = +"tag_8_4" href = "#note_8_4">4</a> <i>Rodope’s</i> beside him, without +being able to tell, whether it was a black or blue one.</p> + +<p>The difficulty was to get my uncle <i>Toby</i> to look at one at +all.</p> + +<p>’Tis surmounted. And</p> + +<p>I see him yonder with his pipe pendulous in his hand, and the ashes +falling out of it—looking—and looking—then rubbing his +eyes—and looking again, with twice the good-nature that ever +<i>Gallileo</i> look’d for a spot in the sun.</p> + +<p>——In vain! for by all the powers which animate the +organ——Widow <i>Wadman’s</i> left eye shines this moment as +lucid as her right——there is neither mote, or sand, or dust, +or chaff, or speck, or particle of opake matter floating in +it—There is nothing, my dear paternal uncle! but one lambent +delicious fire, furtively shooting out from every part of it, in all +directions, into <span class = "locked">thine——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page425" id = "page425">425</a></span> +<p>——If thou lookest, uncle <i>Toby</i>, in search of this +mote one moment longer——thou art undone.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXV" id = "bookVIII_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">An</span> eye is for all the world exactly +like a cannon, in this respect; That it is not so much the eye or the +cannon, in themselves, as it is the carriage of the eye——and +the carriage of the cannon, by which both the one and the other are +enabled to do so much execution. I don’t think the comparison a bad +one; However, as ’tis made and placed at the head of the chapter, as +much for use as ornament, all I desire in return is, that whenever I +speak of Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> eyes (except once in the next period), +that you keep it in your fancy.</p> + +<p>I protest, Madam, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I can see nothing +whatever in your eye.</p> + +<p>It is not in the white; said Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>: my uncle <i>Toby</i> +look’d with might and main into the <span class = +"locked">pupil——</span></p> + +<p>Now of all the eyes which ever were created——from your +own, Madam, up to those of <i>Venus</i> herself, which certainly were as +venereal a pair of eyes as ever stood in a head——there never +was an eye of them all, so fitted to rob my uncle <i>Toby</i> of his +repose, as the very eye, at which he was looking——it was +not, Madam, a rolling eye——a romping or a wanton +one—nor was it an eye sparkling—petulant or +imperious—of high claims and terrifying exactions, which would +have curdled at once that milk of human nature, of which my uncle +<i>Toby</i> was made up——but ’twas an eye full of gentle +salutations——and soft +responses——speaking——not like the trumpet stop +of some ill-made organ, in which many an eye I talk to, holds coarse +converse——but whispering soft——like the last low +accent of an expiring saint——“How can you live comfortless, +captain <i>Shandy</i>, and alone, without a bosom to lean your head +on——or trust your cares to?”</p> + +<p>It was an eye——</p> + +<p>But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another word about +it.</p> + +<p>——It did my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> business.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page426" id = "page426">426</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXVI" id = "bookVIII_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> is nothing shews the character +of my father and my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in a more entertaining light, +than their different manner of deportment, under the same +accident——for I call not love a misfortune, from a +persuasion, that a man’s heart is ever the better for +it——Great God! what must my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> have been, +when ’twas all benignity without it.</p> + +<p>My father, as appears from many of his papers, was very subject to +this passion, before he married——but from a little subacid +kind of drollish impatience in his nature, whenever it befell him, he +would never submit to it like a christian; but would pish, and huff, and +bounce, and kick, and play the Devil, and write the bitterest +Philippicks against the eye that ever man wrote——there is +one in verse upon somebody’s eye or other, that for two or three nights +together, had put him by his rest; which in his first transport of +resentment against it, he begins thus:</p> + +<div class = "verse"> +<p>“A Devil ’tis——and mischief such doth work</p> +<p>As never yet did <i>Pagan</i>, <i>Jew</i>, or <i>Turk</i>.”<a class = +"tag" name = "tag_8_5" id = "tag_8_5" href = "#note_8_5">5</a></p> +</div> + +<p>In short, during the whole paroxism, my father was all abuse and foul +language, approaching rather towards malediction——only he +did not do it with as much method as <i>Ernulphus</i>——he +was too impetuous; nor with <i>Ernulphus’s</i> policy——for +tho’ my father, with the most intolerant spirit, would curse both this +and that, and every thing under heaven, which was either aiding or +abetting to his love——yet never concluded his chapter of +curses upon it, without cursing himself in at the bargain, as one of the +most egregious fools and coxcombs, he would say, that ever was let loose +in the world.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i>, on the contrary, took it like a +lamb——sat still and let the poison work in his veins without +resistance——in the sharpest exacerbations of his wound (like +that on his groin) he never dropt one fretful or discontented +word——he blamed neither heaven nor earth——or +thought or spoke an injurious thing of any body, or any part of it; he +sat solitary and pensive with his pipe——looking at his lame +leg——then whiffing out a sentimental heigh ho! which mixing +with the smoke, incommoded no one mortal.</p> + +<p>He took it like a lamb——I say.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page427" id = "page427">427</a></span> +<p>In truth he had mistook it at first; for having taken a ride with my +father, that very morning, to save if possible a beautiful wood, which +the dean and chapter were hewing down to give to the poor;<a class = +"tag" name = "tag_8_6" id = "tag_8_6" href = "#note_8_6">6</a> which +said wood being in full view of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> house, and of +singular service to him in his description of the battle of +<i>Wynnendale</i>—by trotting on too hastily to save +it——upon an uneasy saddle——worse horse, &c. +&c. . . it had so happened, that the serous part of the +blood had got betwixt the two skins, in the nethermost part of my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——the first shootings of which (as my uncle +<i>Toby</i> had no experience of love) he had taken for a part of the +passion—till the blister breaking in the one case—and the +other remaining—my uncle <i>Toby</i> was presently convinced, that +his wound was not a skin-deep wound——but that it had gone to +his heart.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXVII" id = "bookVIII_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> world is ashamed of being +virtuous——My uncle <i>Toby</i> knew little of the world; and +therefore when he felt he was in love with widow <i>Wadman</i>, he had +no conception that the thing was any more to be made a mystery of, than +if Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had given him a cut with a gap’d knife across his +finger: Had it been otherwise——yet as he ever look’d upon +<i>Trim</i> as a humble friend; and saw fresh reasons every day of his +life, to treat him as such——it would have made no variation +in the manner in which he informed him of the affair.</p> + +<p>“I am in love, corporal!” quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXVIII" id = "bookVIII_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> love!——said the +corporal—your honour was very well the day before yesterday, when +I was telling your honour the story of the King of +<i>Bohemia</i>—<i>Bohemia!</i> said my uncle <i>Toby</i> +- - - - musing a long time - - - What became of +that story, <i>Trim?</i></p> + +<p>—We lost it, an’ please your honour, somehow betwixt +us—but your honour was as free from love then, as I +am——’twas just whilst thou went’st off with the +wheel-barrow——with Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——She has left a ball here—added my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—pointing to his <span class = +"locked">breast——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page428" id = "page428">428</a></span> +<p>——She can no more, an’ please your honour, stand a siege, +than she can fly—cried the <span class = +"locked">corporal——</span></p> + +<p>——But as we are neighbours, <i>Trim</i>,—the best +way I think is to let her know it civilly first—quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>Now if I might presume, said the corporal, to differ from your +honour——</p> + +<p>—Why else do I talk to thee, <i>Trim?</i> said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, <span class = "locked">mildly——</span></p> + +<p>—Then I would begin, an’ please your honour, with making a good +thundering attack upon her, in return—and telling her civilly +afterwards—for if she knows anything of your honour’s being in +love, before hand——L—d help her!—she knows no +more at present of it, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>—than +the child <span class = "locked">unborn———</span></p> + +<p>Precious souls!———</p> + +<p>Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had told it, with all its circumstances, to Mrs. +<i>Bridget</i> twenty-four hours before; and was at that very moment +sitting in council with her, touching some slight misgivings with regard +to the issue of the affairs, which the Devil, who never lies dead in a +ditch, had put into her head—before he would allow half time, to +get quietly through her <i>Te Deum</i>.</p> + +<p>I am terribly afraid, said widow <i>Wadman</i>, in case I should +marry him, <i>Bridget</i>—that the poor captain will not enjoy his +health, with the monstrous wound upon his <span class = +"locked">groin——</span></p> + +<p>It may not, Madam, be so very large, replied <i>Bridget</i>, as you +think——and I believe, besides, added she—that ’tis +dried <span class = "locked">up——</span></p> + +<p>——I could like to know—merely for his sake, said +Mrs. <span class = "locked"><i>Wadman</i>——</span></p> + +<p>—We’ll know the long and the broad of it, in ten +days—answered Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, for whilst the captain is +paying his addresses to you—I’m confident Mr. <i>Trim</i> will be +for making love to me—and I’ll let him as much as he +will—added <i>Bridget</i>—to get it all out of <span class = +"locked">him——</span></p> + +<p>The measures were taken at once——and my uncle <i>Toby</i> +and the corporal went on with theirs.</p> + +<p>Now, quoth the corporal, setting his left hand a-kimbo, and giving +such a flourish with his right, as just promised success—and no +more——if your honour will give me leave to lay down the plan +of this <span class = "locked">attack——</span></p> + +<p>——Thou wilt please me by it, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, exceedingly—and as I foresee thou must act in it as +my <i>aid de camp</i>, here’s a crown, corporal, to begin with, to steep +thy commission.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page429" id = "page429">429</a></span> +<p>Then, an’ please your honour, said the corporal (making a bow first +for his commission)—we will begin with getting your honour’s laced +cloaths out of the great campaign-trunk, to be well air’d, and have the +blue and gold taken up at the sleeves—and I’ll put your white +ramallie-wig fresh into pipes—and send for a taylor, to have your +honour’s thin scarlet breeches <span class = +"locked">turn’d——</span></p> + +<p>—I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——They will be too clumsy—said the +corporal.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXIX" id = "bookVIII_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p>——Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my +sword——’Twill be only in your honour’s way, replied +<i>Trim</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXX" id = "bookVIII_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">But</span> your honour’s two +razors shall be new set—and I will get my <i>Montero</i>-cap +furbish’d up, and put on poor lieutenant <i>Le Fever’s</i> regimental +coat, which your honour gave me to wear for his sake—and as soon +as your honour is clean shaved—and has got your clean shirt on, +with your blue and gold, or your fine scarlet——sometimes one +and sometimes t’other—and everything is ready for the +attack—we’ll march up boldly, as if ’twas to the face of a +bastion; and whilst your honour engages Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> in the +parlour, to the right——I’ll attack Mrs. <i>Bridget</i> in +the kitchen, to the left; and having seiz’d the pass, I’ll answer for +it, said the corporal, snapping his fingers over his head—that the +day is our own.</p> + +<p>I wish I may but manage it right; said my uncle <i>Toby</i>—but +I declare, corporal, I had rather march up to the very edge of a +<span class = "locked">trench——</span></p> + +<p>—A woman is quite a different thing—said the +corporal.</p> + +<p>—I suppose so, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXXI" id = "bookVIII_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">If</span> anything in this world, which my +father said, could have provoked my uncle <i>Toby</i>, during the time +he was in love, it was the perverse use my father was always making of +an expression +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page430" id = "page430">430</a></span> +of <i>Hilarion</i> the hermit; who, in speaking of his abstinence, his +watchings, flagellations, and other instrumental parts of his +religion—would say—tho’ with more facetiousness than became +an hermit—“That they were the means he used, to make his +<i>ass</i> (meaning his body) leave off kicking.”</p> + +<p>It pleased my father well; it was not only a laconick way of +expressing——but of libelling, at the same time, the desires +and appetites of the lower part of us; so that for many years of my +father’s life, ’twas his constant mode of expression—he never used +the word <i>passions</i> once—but <i>ass</i> always instead of +them——So that he might be said truly, to have been upon the +bones, or the back of his own ass, or else of some other man’s, during +all that time.</p> + +<p>I must here observe to you the difference betwixt</p> + +<p class = "indent"> +My father’s ass</p> + +<p class = "indent"> +and my hobby-horse—in order to keep characters as separate as may +be, in our fancies as we go along.</p> + +<p>For my hobby-horse, if you recollect a little, is no way a vicious +beast; he has scarce one hair or lineament of the ass about +him——’Tis the sporting little filly-folly which carries you +out for the present hour—a maggot, a butterfly, +a picture, a fiddlestick—an uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +siege—or an <i>anything</i>, which a man makes a shift to get +a-stride on, to canter it away from the cares and solicitudes of +life—’Tis as useful a beast as is in the whole creation—nor +do I really see how the world would do without <span class = +"locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>——But for my father’s ass———oh! mount +him—mount him—mount him—(that’s three times, is it +not?)—mount him not:—’tis a beast concupiscent—and +foul befal the man, who does not hinder him from kicking.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXXII" id = "bookVIII_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Well</span>! dear brother <i>Toby</i>, said +my father, upon his first seeing him after he fell in love—and how +goes it with your <span class = "smallcaps">Asse</span>?</p> + +<p>Now my uncle <i>Toby</i> thinking more of the <i>part</i> where he +had had the blister, than of <i>Hilarion’s</i> metaphor—and our +preconceptions having (you know) as great a power over the sounds of +words as the shapes of things, he had imagined, that my father, who was +not very ceremonious in his choice of words, had enquired after the part +by its proper name; so notwithstanding my mother, doctor <i>Slop</i>, +and Mr. <i>Yorick</i>, were sitting in the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page431" id = "page431">431</a></span> +parlour, he thought it rather civil to conform to the term my father had +made use of than not. When a man is hemm’d in by two indecorums, and +must commit one of ’em—I always observe—let him chuse +which he will, the world will blame him—so I should not be +astonished if it blames my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>My A—e, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, is much +better—brother <i>Shandy</i>—My father had formed great +expectations from his Asse in this onset; and would have brought him on +again; but doctor <i>Slop</i> setting up an intemperate laugh—and +my mother crying out L— bless us!—it drove my father’s Asse +off the field—and the laugh then becoming general—there was +no bringing him back to the charge, for some <span class = +"locked">time——</span></p> + +<p>And so the discourse went on without him.</p> + +<p>Everybody, said my mother, says you are in love, brother +<i>Toby</i>,—and we hope it is true.</p> + +<p>I am as much in love, sister, I believe, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, as any man usually is——Humph! said my +father——and when did you know it? quoth my <span class = +"locked">mother——</span></p> + +<p>——When the blister broke; replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby’s</i> reply put my father into good temper—so +he charg’d o’ foot.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXXIII" id = "bookVIII_chapXXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> the ancients agree, brother +<i>Toby</i>, said my father, that there are two different and distinct +kinds of <i>love</i>, according to the different parts which are +affected by it—the Brain or Liver——I think when a +man is in love, it behoves him a little to consider which of the two he +is fallen into.</p> + +<p>What signifies it, brother <i>Shandy</i>, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, which of the two it is, provided it will but make a man +marry, and love his wife, and get a few children?</p> + +<p>——A few children! cried my father, rising out of his +chair, and looking full in my mother’s face, as he forced his way +betwixt her’s and doctor <i>Slop’s</i>—a few children! cried +my father, repeating my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> words as he walk’d to and +<span class = "locked">fro——</span></p> + +<p>——Not, my dear brother <i>Toby</i>, cried my father, +recovering himself all at once, and coming close up to the back of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> chair—not that I should be sorry hadst thou a +score—on the contrary, I should rejoice—and be as kind, +<i>Toby</i>, to every one of them as a <span class = +"locked">father—</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> stole his hand unperceived behind his chair, to +give my father’s a <span class = +"locked">squeeze——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page432" id = "page432">432</a></span> +<p>——Nay, moreover, continued he, keeping hold of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> hand—so much dost thou possess, my dear <i>Toby</i>, +of the milk of human nature, and so little of its asperities—’tis +piteous the world is not peopled by creatures which resemble thee; and +was I an <i>Asiatic</i> monarch, added my father, heating himself with +his new project—I would oblige thee, provided it would not +impair thy strength—or dry up thy radical moisture too +fast—or weaken thy memory or fancy, brother <i>Toby</i>, which +these gymnics inordinately taken are apt to do—else, dear +<i>Toby</i>, I would procure thee the most beautiful women in my +empire, and I would oblige thee, <i>nolens, volens</i>, to beget for me +one subject every <span class = +"locked"><i>month</i>——</span></p> + +<p>As my father pronounced the last word of the sentence—my mother +took a pinch of snuff.</p> + +<p>Now I would not, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, get a child, <i>nolens, +volens</i>, that is, whether I would or no, to please the greatest +prince upon <span class = "locked">earth——</span></p> + +<p>——And ’twould be cruel in me, brother <i>Toby</i>, to +compel thee; said my father—but ’tis a case put to show thee, that +it is not thy begetting a child—in case thou should’st be +able—but the system of Love and Marriage thou goest upon, which I +would set thee right <span class = "locked">in——</span></p> + +<p>There is at least, said <i>Yorick</i>, a great deal of reason and +plain sense in captain <i>Shandy’s</i> opinion of love; and ’tis amongst +the ill-spent hours of my life, which I have to answer for, that I have +read so many flourishing poets and rhetoricians in my time, from whom I +never could extract so <span class = +"locked">much——</span></p> + +<p>I wish, <i>Yorick</i>, said my father, you had read <i>Plato</i>; for +there you would have learnt that there are two <span class = +"smallcaps">Loves</span>—I know there were two <span class = +"smallcaps">Religions</span>, replied <i>Yorick</i>, amongst the +ancients——one—for the vulgar, and another for the +learned;—but I think <span class = "smallcaps">one Love</span> +might have served both of them very <span class = +"locked">well—</span></p> + +<p>It could not; replied my father—and for the same reasons: for +of these Loves, according to <i>Ficinus’s</i> comment upon +<i>Velasius</i>, the one is <span class = +"locked">rational——</span></p> + +<p>——the other is <i>natural</i>——</p> + +<p>the first ancient——without mother——where +<i>Venus</i> had nothing to do: the second, begotten of <i>Jupiter</i> +and <span class = "locked"><i>Dione</i>—</span></p> + +<p>——Pray, brother, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, what has a +man who believes in God to do with this? My father could not stop to +answer, for fear of breaking the thread of his <span class = +"locked">discourse——</span></p> + +<p>This latter, continued he, partakes wholly of the nature of +<i>Venus</i>.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page433" id = "page433">433</a></span> +<p>The first, which is the golden chain let down from heaven, excites to +love heroic, which comprehends in it, and excites to the desire of +philosophy and truth——the second, excites to <i>desire</i>, +<span class = "locked">simply——</span></p> + +<p>——I think the procreation of children as beneficial to +the world, said <i>Yorick</i>, as the finding out of the <span class = +"locked">longitude——</span></p> + +<p>——To be sure, said my mother, <i>love</i> keeps peace in +the <span class = "locked">world——</span></p> + +<p>——In the <i>house</i>—my dear, I own—</p> + +<p>——It replenishes the earth; said my +mother——</p> + +<p>But it keeps heaven empty—my dear; replied my father.</p> + +<p>——’Tis Virginity, cried <i>Slop</i>, triumphantly, which +fills paradise.</p> + +<p>Well push’d, nun! quoth my father.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXXIV" id = "bookVIII_chapXXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> father had such a skirmishing, +cutting kind of a slashing way with him, in his disputations, thrusting +and ripping, and giving every one a stroke to remember him by in his +turn—that if there were twenty people in company—in less +than half an hour he was sure to have every one of ’em against him.</p> + +<p>What did not a little contribute to leave him thus without an ally, +was, that if there was any one post more untenable than the rest, he +would be sure to throw himself into it; and to do him justice, when he +was once there, he would defend it so gallantly, that ’twould have been +a concern, either to a brave man or a good-natured one, to have seen him +driven out.</p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i>, for this reason, though he would often attack +him—yet could never bear to do it with all his force.</p> + +<p>Doctor <i>Slop’s</i> <span class = "smallcaps">Virginity</span>, in +the close of the last chapter, had got him for once on the right side of +the rampart; and he was beginning to blow up all the convents in +<i>Christendom</i> about <i>Slop’s</i> ears, when corporal <i>Trim</i> +came into the parlour to inform my uncle <i>Toby</i>, that his thin +scarlet breeches, in which the attack was to be made upon Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i>, would not do; for that the taylor, in ripping them up, in +order to turn them, had found they had been turn’d +before——Then turn them again, brother, said my father, +rapidly, for there will be many a turning of ’em yet before all’s done +in the affair——They are as rotten as dirt, said the +corporal——Then by all means, said my father, bespeak a new +pair, brother——for though I know, continued +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page434" id = "page434">434</a></span> +my father, turning himself to the company, that widow <i>Wadman</i> has +been deeply in love with my brother <i>Toby</i> for many years, and has +used every art and circumvention of woman to outwit him into the same +passion, yet now that she has caught him——her fever will be +pass’d its <span class = "locked">height——</span></p> + +<p>——She has gain’d her point.</p> + +<p>In this case, continued my father, which <i>Plato</i>, I am +persuaded<ins class = "correction" title = "comma missing at line-end">, +</ins>never thought of——Love, you see, is not so much a +<span class = "smallcaps">Sentiment</span> as a <span class = +"smallcaps">Situation</span>, into which a man enters, as my brother +<i>Toby</i> would do, into a <i>corps</i>——no matter whether +he loves the service or no——being once in it—he acts +as if he did; and takes every step to shew himself a man of +prowesse.</p> + +<p>The hypothesis, like the rest of my father’s, was plausible enough, +and my uncle <i>Toby</i> had but a single word to object to it—in +which <i>Trim</i> stood ready to second him——but my father +had not drawn his <span class = +"locked">conclusion——</span></p> + +<p>For this reason, continued my father (stating the case over +again)—notwithstanding all the world knows, that Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i> <i>affects</i> my brother <i>Toby</i>—and my brother +<i>Toby</i> contrariwise <i>affects</i> Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, and no +obstacle in nature to forbid the music striking up this very night, yet +will I answer for it, that this self-same tune will not be play’d this +twelvemonth.</p> + +<p>We have taken our measures badly, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking +up interrogatively in <i>Trim’s</i> face.</p> + +<p>I would lay my <i>Montero</i>-cap, said <i>Trim</i>——Now +<i>Trim’s</i> <i>Montero</i>-cap, as I once told you, was his constant +wager; and having furbish’d it up that very night, in order to go upon +the attack—it made the odds look more +considerable——I would lay, an’ please your honour, my +<i>Montero</i>-cap to a shilling—was it proper, continued +<i>Trim</i> (making a bow), to offer a wager before your <span class = +"locked">honours——</span></p> + +<p>——There is nothing improper in it, said my +father—’tis a mode of expression; for in saying thou would’st lay +thy <i>Montero</i>-cap to a shilling—all thou meanest is +this—that thou <span class = "locked">believest—</span></p> + +<p>——Now, What do’st thou believe?</p> + +<p>That widow <i>Wadman</i>, an’ please your worship, cannot hold it out +ten <span class = "locked">days——</span></p> + +<p>And whence, cried <i>Slop</i>, jeeringly, hast thou all this +knowledge of woman, friend?</p> + +<p>By falling in love with a popish clergywoman; said <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>’Twas a <i>Beguine</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>Doctor <i>Slop</i> was too much in wrath to listen to the +distinction; and my father taking that very crisis to fall in +helter-skelter +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page435" id = "page435">435</a></span> +upon the whole order of Nuns and <i>Beguines</i>, a set of silly, fusty, +baggages——<i>Slop</i> could not stand it——and my +uncle <i>Toby</i> having some measures to take about his +breeches—and <i>Yorick</i> about his fourth general +division—in order for their several attacks next day—the +company broke up: and my father being left alone, and having half an +hour upon his hands betwixt that and bed-time; he called for pen, ink, +and paper, and wrote my uncle <i>Toby</i> the following letter of +instructions:</p> + +<p class = "space"> +<span class = "smallcaps">My dear brother</span> <i>Toby</i>,</p> + +<p><span class = "firstword">What</span> I am going to say to thee is +upon the nature of women, and of love-making to them; and perhaps it is +as well for thee—tho’ not so well for me—that thou hast +occasion for a letter of instructions upon that head, and that I am able +to write it to thee.</p> + +<p>Had it been the good pleasure of him who disposes of our +lots—and thou no sufferer by the knowledge, I had been well +content that thou should’st have dipp’d the pen this moment into the +ink, instead of myself; but that not being the +case——————Mrs. <i>Shandy</i> being +now close beside me, preparing for bed——I have thrown +together without order, and just as they have come into my mind, such +hints and documents as I deem may be of use to thee; intending, in this, +to give thee a token of my love; not doubting, my dear <i>Toby</i>, of +the manner in which it will be accepted.</p> + +<p>In the first place, with regard to all which concerns religion in the +affair——though I perceive from a glow in my cheek, that I +blush as I begin to speak to thee upon the subject, as well knowing, +notwithstanding thy unaffected secrecy, how few of its offices thou +neglectest—yet I would remind thee of one (during the continuance +of thy courtship) in a particular manner, which I would not have +omitted; and that is, never to go forth upon the enterprize, whether it +be in the morning or the afternoon, without first recommending thyself +to the protection of Almighty God, that he may defend thee from the evil +one.</p> + +<p>Shave the whole top of thy crown clean once at least every four or +five days, but oftener if convenient; lest in taking off thy wig before +her, thro’ absence of mind, she should be able to discover how much has +been cut away by Time——how much by <i>Trim</i>.</p> + +<p>—’Twere better to keep ideas of baldness out of her fancy.</p> + +<p>Always carry it in thy mind, and act upon it as a sure maxim, +<i>Toby</i>——</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page436" id = "page436">436</a></span> +<p>“<i>That women are timid:</i>” And ’tis well they +are——else there would be no dealing with them.</p> + +<p>Let not thy breeches be too tight, or hang too loose about thy +thighs, like the trunk-hose of our ancestors.</p> + +<p>——A just medium prevents all conclusions.</p> + +<p>Whatever thou hast to say, be it more or less, forget not to utter it +in a low soft tone of voice. Silence, and whatever approaches it, weaves +dreams of midnight secrecy into the brain: For this cause, if thou canst +help it, never throw down the tongs and poker.</p> + +<p>Avoid all kinds of pleasantry and facetiousness in thy discourse with +her, and do whatever lies in thy power at the same time, to keep from +her all books and writings which tend thereto: there are some devotional +tracts, which if thou canst entice her to read over—it will be +well: but suffer her not to look into <i>Rabelais</i>, or +<i>Scarron</i>, or <i>Don Quixote</i>——</p> + +<p>——They are all books which excite laughter; and thou +knowest, dear <i>Toby</i>, that there is no passion so serious as +lust.</p> + +<p>Stick a pin in the bosom of thy shirt, before thou enterest her +parlour.</p> + +<p>And if thou art permitted to sit upon the same sopha with her, and +she gives thee occasion to lay thy hand upon hers—beware of taking +it——thou canst not lay thy hand on hers, but she will feel +the temper of thine. Leave that and as many other things as thou canst, +quite undetermined; by so doing, thou wilt have her curiosity on thy +side; and if she is not conquered by that, and thy <span class = +"smallcaps">Asse</span> continues still kicking, which there is great +reason to suppose——Thou must begin, with first losing a few +ounces of blood below the ears, according to the practice of the ancient +<i>Scythians</i>, who cured the most intemperate fits of the appetite by +that means.</p> + +<p><i>Avicenna</i>, after this, is for having the part anointed with the +syrup of hellebore, using proper evacuations and purges——and +I believe rightly. But thou must eat little or no goat’s flesh, nor red +deer——nor even foal’s flesh by any means; and carefully +abstain——that is, as much as thou canst, from peacocks, +cranes, coots, didappers, and <span class = +"locked">water-hens——</span></p> + +<p>As for thy drink—I need not tell thee, it must be the infusion +of <span class = "smallcaps">Vervain</span> and the herb <span class = +"smallcaps">Hanea</span>, of which <i>Ælian</i> relates such +effects—but if thy stomach palls with it—discontinue it from +time to time, taking cucumbers, melons, purslane, water-lillies, +woodbine, and lettice, in the stead of them.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page437" id = "page437">437</a></span> +<p>There is nothing further for thee, which occurs to me at +present——</p> + +<p>——Unless the breaking out of a fresh war——So +wishing everything, dear <i>Toby</i>, for the best,</p> + +<p>I rest thy affectionate brother,</p> + +<p class = "right smallcaps"> +Walter Shandy</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookVIII_chapXXXV" id = "bookVIII_chapXXXV"> +CHAPTER XXXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Whilst</span> my father was writing his +letter of instructions, my uncle <i>Toby</i> and the corporal were busy +in preparing everything for the attack. As the turning of the thin +scarlet breeches was laid aside (at least for the present), there +was nothing which should put it off beyond the next morning; so +accordingly it was resolved upon, for eleven o’clock.</p> + +<p>Come, my dear, said my father to my mother—’twill be but like a +brother and sister, if you and I take a walk down to my brother +<i>Toby’s</i>——to countenance him in this attack of his.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> and the corporal had been accoutred both some +time, when my father and mother enter’d, and the clock striking eleven, +were that moment in motion to sally forth—but the account of this +is worth more than to be wove into the fag end of the eighth<a class = +"tag" name = "tag_8_7" id = "tag_8_7" href = "#note_8_7">7</a> volume of +such a work as this.——My father had no time but to put the +letter of instructions into my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +coat-pocket——and join with my mother in wishing his attack +prosperous.</p> + +<p>I could like, said my mother, to look through the key-hole out of +curiosity——Call it by its right name, my dear, quoth my +<span class = "locked">father—</span></p> + +<p><i>And look through the key-hole</i> as long as you will.</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_8_1" id = "note_8_1" href = "#tag_8_1">1.</a> +Vid. <a href = "#page347">pp. 347-348</a>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_8_2" id = "note_8_2" href = "#tag_8_2">2.</a> +Vid. <i>Pope’s</i> Portrait.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_8_3" id = "note_8_3" href = "#tag_8_3">3.</a> +Alluding to the first edition.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_8_4" id = "note_8_4" href = "#tag_8_4">4.</a> +<i>Rodope Thracia</i> tam inevitabili fascino instructa, tam exactè +oculus intuens attraxit, ut si in illam quis incidisset, fieri non +posset, quin caperetur.——I know not who.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_8_5" id = "note_8_5" href = "#tag_8_5">5.</a> +This will be printed with my father’s Life of <i>Socrates</i>, &c. +&c.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_8_6" id = "note_8_6" href = "#tag_8_6">6.</a> +Mr. <i>Shandy</i> must mean the poor <i>in spirit</i>; inasmuch as they +divided the money amongst themselves.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_8_7" id = "note_8_7" href = "#tag_8_7">7.</a> +Alluding to the first edition.</p> + +</div> + + +<div class = "page"> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page438" id = "page438">438</a></span> + +</div> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page439" id = "page439">439</a></span> + +<h2><a name = "bookIX_title" id = "bookIX_title"> +<span class = "small">THE LIFE AND OPINIONS</span></a><br /> +<span class = "tiny">OF</span><br /> +<span class = "extended">TRISTRAM SHANDY</span><br /> +<span class = "smaller">GENTLEMAN</span></h2> + +<div class = "heading"> +<p>Non enim excursus hic ejus, sed opus ipsum est.</p> +<p class = "right"><span class = "smallcaps">Plin.</span> Lib. v. Epist. +6.</p> + +<p class = "deephang"> +Si quid urbaniusculè lusum a nobis, per Musas et Charitas et omnium +poëtarum Numina, Oro te, ne me malè capias.</p> + +</div> + +<div class = "page"> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page440" id = "page440">440</a></span> + +<h3><a name = "bookIX_dedic" id = "bookIX_dedic">A DEDICATION</a><br /> +<span class = "small extended">TO A GREAT MAN</span></h3> + +<p><span class = "firstword">Having</span>, <i>a priori</i>, intended to +dedicate <i>The Amours of my Uncle Toby</i> to Mr. +***——I see more reasons, <i>a posteriori</i>, for +doing it <ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘too’">to</ins> +Lord *******.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +I should lament from my soul, if this exposed me to the jealousy of +their Reverences; because <i>a posteriori</i>, in Court-latin, +signifies the kissing hands for preferment—or anything +else—in order to get it.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +My opinion of Lord ******* is neither better nor worse, than it was of +Mr. ***. Honours, like impressions upon coin, may give an ideal and +local value to a bit of base metal; but Gold and Silver will pass all +the world over without any other recommendation than their own +weight.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +The same good-will that made me think of offering up half an hour’s +amusement to Mr. *** when out of place—operates more forcibly at +present, as half an hour’s amusement will be more serviceable and +refreshing after labour and sorrow, than after a philosophical +repast.</p> + +<p class = "space"> +Nothing is so perfectly <i>amusement</i> as a total change of ideas; no +ideas are so totally different as those of Ministers, and innocent +Lovers: for which reason, when I come to talk of Statesmen and Patriots, +and set such marks upon them as will prevent confusion and mistakes +concerning them for the future—I propose to dedicate that +Volume to some gentle Shepherd,</p> + +<div class = "verse"> +<p>Whose thoughts proud Science never taught to stray,</p> +<p>Far as the Statesman’s walk or Patriot-way;</p> +<p>Yet <i>simple Nature</i> to his hopes had given</p> +<p>Out of a cloud-capp’d head a humbler heaven;</p> +<p>Some <i>untam’d</i> World in depths of wood embraced—</p> +<p>Some happier Island in the watry-waste—</p> +<p>And where admitted to that equal sky,</p> +<p>His <i>faithful Dog</i> should bear him company.</p> +</div> + +<p class = "space"> +In a word, by thus introducing an entire new set of objects to his +Imagination, I shall unavoidably give a <i>Diversion</i> to his +passionate and love-sick Contemplations. In the meantime,</p> + +<p class = "center"> +I am</p> + +<p class = "right"> +THE AUTHOR.</p> + +</div> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page441" id = "page441">441</a></span> +<h3><a name = "bookIX" id = "bookIX">BOOK IX</a></h3> + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapI" id = "bookIX_chapI"> +CHAPTER I</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">I call</span> all the powers of time and +chance, which severally check us in our careers in this world, to bear +me witness, that I could never yet get fairly to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +amours, till this very moment, that my mother’s <i>curiosity</i>, as she +stated the affair,——or a different impulse in her, as my +father would have it——wished her to take a peep at them +through the key-hole.</p> + +<p>“Call it, my dear, by its right name, quoth my father, and look +through the key-hole as long as you will.”</p> + +<p>Nothing but the fermentation of that little subacid humour, which I +have often spoken of, in my father’s habit, could have vented such an +insinuation——he was however frank and generous in his +nature, and at all times open to conviction; so that he had scarce got +to the last word of this ungracious retort, when his conscience smote +him.</p> + +<p>My mother was then conjugally swinging with her left arm twisted +under his right, in such wise, that the inside of her hand rested upon +the back of his—she raised her fingers, and let them fall—it +could scarce be call’d a tap; or if it was a tap——’twould +have puzzled a casuist to say, whether ’twas a tap of remonstrance, or a +tap of confession: my father, who was all sensibilities from head to +foot, class’d it right—Conscience redoubled her blow—he +turn’d his face suddenly the other way, and my mother supposing his body +was about to turn with it in order to move homewards, by a cross +movement of her right leg, keeping her left as its centre, brought +herself so far in front, that as he turned his head, he met her +eye———Confusion again! he saw a thousand reasons to +wipe out the reproach, and as many to reproach +himself——a thin, blue, chill, pellucid chrystal with +all its humours so at rest, the least mote or speck of desire might have +been seen, at the bottom of it, had it existed——it did +not——and how I happen to be so lewd myself, particularly a +little before the vernal and autumnal equinoxes——Heaven +above knows——My mother——madam——was +so at no time, either by nature, by institution, or example.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page442" id = "page442">442</a></span> +<p>A temperate current of blood ran orderly through her veins in all +months of the year, and in all critical moments both of the day and +night alike; nor did she superinduce the least heat into her humours +from the manual effervescencies of devotional tracts, which having +little or no meaning in them, nature is oft-times obliged to find +one——And as for my father’s example! ’twas so far from being +either aiding or abetting thereunto, that ’twas the whole business of +his life to keep all fancies of that kind out of her +head——Nature had done her part, to have spared him this +trouble; and what was not a little inconsistent, my father knew +it——And here am I sitting, this 12th day of <i>August</i> +1766, in a purple jerkin and yellow pair of slippers, without either wig +or cap on, a most tragicomical completion of his prediction, “That +I should neither think, nor act like any other man’s child, upon that +very account.”</p> + +<p>The mistake in my father, was in attacking my mother’s motive, +instead of the act itself; for certainly key-holes were made for other +purposes; and considering the act, as an act which interfered with a +true proposition, and denied a key-hole to be what it +was———it became a violation of nature; and was so far, +you see, criminal.</p> + +<p>It is for this reason, an’ please your Reverences, That key-holes are +the occasions of more sin and wickedness, than all other holes in this +world put together.</p> + +<p>———which leads me to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> +amours.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapII" id = "bookIX_chapII"> +CHAPTER II</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Though</span> the corporal had been as good +as his word in putting my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> great ramallie-wig into +pipes, yet the time was too short to produce any great effects from it: +it had lain many years squeezed up in the corner of his old campaign +trunk; and as bad forms are not so easy to be got the better of, and the +use of candle-ends not so well understood, it was not so pliable a +business as one would have wished. The corporal with cheary eye and both +arms extended, had fallen back perpendicular from it a score times, to +inspire it, if possible, with a better air——had <span class += "smallroman">SPLEEN</span> given a look at it, ’twould have cost her +ladyship a smile——it curl’d everywhere but where the +corporal would have it; and where a buckle or two, in his opinion, would +have done it honour, he could as soon have raised the dead.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page443" id = "page443">443</a></span> +<p>Such it was——or rather such would it have seem’d upon any +other brow; but the sweet look of goodness which sat upon my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i>, assimilated everything around it so sovereignly to +itself, and Nature had moreover wrote <span class = +"smallcaps">Gentleman</span> with so fair a hand in every line of his +countenance, that even his tarnish’d gold-laced hat and huge cockade of +flimsy taffeta became him; and though not worth a button in themselves, +yet the moment my uncle <i>Toby</i> put them on, they became serious +objects, and altogether seem’d to have been picked up by the hand of +Science to set him off to advantage.</p> + +<p>Nothing in this world could have co-operated more powerfully towards +this, than my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> blue and gold——<i>had not +Quantity in some measure been necessary to Grace</i>: in a period of +fifteen or sixteen years since they had been made, by a total inactivity +in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> life, for he seldom went further than the +bowling-green—his blue and gold had become so miserably too strait +for him, that it was with the utmost difficulty the corporal was able to +get him into them; the taking them up at the sleeves, was of no +advantage.——They were laced however down the back, and at +the seams of the sides, &c., in the mode of King <i>William’s</i> +reign; and to shorten all description, they shone so bright against the +sun that morning, and had so metallick and doughty an air with them, +that had my uncle <i>Toby</i> thought of attacking in armour, nothing +could have so well imposed upon his imagination.</p> + +<p>As for the thin scarlet breeches, they had been unripp’d by the +taylor between the legs, and left at <i>sixes and +sevens</i>——</p> + +<p>——Yes, Madam,——but let us govern our fancies. +It is enough they were held impracticable the night before, and as there +was no alternative in my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wardrobe, he sallied forth +in the red plush.</p> + +<p>The corporal had array’d himself in poor <i>Le Fever’s</i> regimental +coat; and with his hair tuck’d up under his <i>Montero</i>-cap, which he +had furbish’d up for the occasion, march’d three paces distant from his +master: a whiff of military pride had puff’d out his shirt at the +wrist; and upon that in a black leather thong clipp’d into a tassel +beyond the knot, hung the corporal’s stick——My uncle +<i>Toby</i> carried his cane like a pike.</p> + +<p>——It looks well at least; quoth my father to himself.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page444" id = "page444">444</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapIII" id = "bookIX_chapIII"> +CHAPTER III</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby</i> turn’d his head +more than once behind him, to see how he was supported by the corporal; +and the corporal as oft as he did it, gave a slight flourish with his +stick—but not vapouringly; and with the sweetest accent of most +respectful encouragement, bid his honour “never fear.”</p> + +<p>Now my uncle <i>Toby</i> did fear; and grievously too; he knew not +(as my father had reproach’d him) so much as the right end of a +Woman from the wrong, and therefore was never altogether at his ease +near any one of them——unless in sorrow or distress; then +infinite was his pity; nor would the most courteous knight of romance +have gone further, at least upon one leg, to have wiped away a tear from +a woman’s eye; and yet excepting once that he was beguiled into it by +Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, he had never looked stedfastly into one; and would +often tell my father in the simplicity of his heart, that it was almost +(if not about) as bad as talking <span class = +"locked">bawdy.——</span></p> + +<p>——And suppose it is? my father would say.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapIV" id = "bookIX_chapIV"> +CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">She</span> cannot, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, halting, when they had march’d up to within twenty paces of +Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> door—she cannot, corporal, take it <span +class = "locked">amiss.——</span></p> + +<p>——She will take it, an’ please your honour, said the +corporal, just as the <i>Jew’s</i> widow at <i>Lisbon</i> took it of my +brother <span class = "locked"><i>Tom</i>.——</span></p> + +<p>——And how was that? quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, facing +quite about to the corporal.</p> + +<p>Your honour, replied the corporal, knows of <i>Tom’s</i> misfortunes; +but this affair has nothing to do with them any further than this, That +if <i>Tom</i> had not married the widow——or had it pleased +God after their marriage, that they had but put pork into their +sausages, the honest soul had never been taken out of his warm bed, and +dragg’d to the inquisition——’Tis a cursed place—added +the corporal, shaking his head,—when once a poor creature is in, +he is in, an’ please your honour, for ever.</p> + +<p>’Tis very true; said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, looking gravely at Mrs. +<i>Wadman’s</i> house, as he spoke.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page445" id = "page445">445</a></span> +<p>Nothing, continued the corporal, can be so sad as confinement for +life—or so sweet, an’ please your honour, as liberty.</p> + +<p>Nothing, <i>Trim</i>——said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +musing——</p> + +<p>Whilst a man is free,—cried the corporal, giving a flourish +with his stick <span class = "locked">thus——</span></p> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pg445.png" width = "365" height = "333" +alt = "flourish" /></p> + +<p>A thousand of my father’s most subtle syllogisms could not have said +more for celibacy.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> look’d earnestly towards his cottage and his +bowling-green.</p> + +<p>The corporal had unwarily conjured up the Spirit of calculation with +his wand; and he had nothing to do, but to conjure him down again with +his story, and in this form of Exorcism, most un-ecclesiastically did +the corporal do it.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapV" id = "bookIX_chapV"> +CHAPTER V</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> <i>Tom’s</i> place, an’ please +your honour, was easy—and the weather warm—it put him upon +thinking seriously of settling himself in the world; and as it fell out +about that time, that a <i>Jew</i> who kept a sausage shop in the same +street, had the ill luck to die of a strangury, and leave his widow in +possession of a rousing trade——<i>Tom</i> thought +(as everybody in <i>Lisbon</i> was doing the best he could devise +for himself) there could be no +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page446" id = "page446">446</a></span> +harm in offering her his service to carry it on: so without any +introduction to the widow, except that of buying a pound of sausages at +her shop—<i>Tom</i> set out—counting the matter thus within +himself, as he walk’d along; that let the worst come of it that could, +he should at least get a pound of sausages for their worth—but, if +things went well, he should be set up; inasmuch as he should get not +only a pound of sausages—but a wife and—a sausage shop, +an’ please your honour, into the bargain.</p> + +<p>Every servant in the family, from high to low, wish’d <i>Tom</i> +success; and I can fancy, an’ please your honour, I see him this +moment with his white dimity waistcoat and breeches, and hat a little o’ +one side, passing jollily along the street, swinging his stick, with a +smile and a chearful word for everybody he met:——But alas! +<i>Tom!</i> thou smilest no more, cried the corporal, looking on one +side of him upon the ground, as if he apostrophised him in his +dungeon.</p> + +<p>Poor fellow! said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, feelingly.</p> + +<p>He was an honest, light-hearted lad, an’ please your honour, as ever +blood <span class = "locked">warm’d——</span></p> + +<p>——Then he resembled thee, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, rapidly.</p> + +<p>The corporal blush’d down to his fingers ends—a tear of +sentimental bashfulness—another of gratitude to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—and a tear of sorrow for his brother’s misfortunes, +started into his eye, and ran sweetly down his cheek together; my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> kindled as one lamp does at another; and taking hold of +the breast of <i>Trim’s</i> coat (which had been that of <i>Le +Fever’s</i>) as if to ease his lame leg, but in reality to gratify a +finer feeling——he stood silent for a minute and a half; at +the end of which he took his hand away, and the corporal making a bow, +went on with his story of his brother and the <i>Jew’s</i> widow.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapVI" id = "bookIX_chapVI"> +CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> <i>Tom</i>, an’ please your +honour, got to the shop, there was nobody in it, but a poor negro girl, +with a bunch of white feathers slightly tied to the end of a long cane, +flapping away flies—not killing them.——’Tis a pretty +picture! said my uncle <i>Toby</i>—she had suffered persecution, +<i>Trim</i>, and had learnt <span class = +"locked">mercy——</span></p> + +<p>——She was good, an’ please your honour, from nature, as +well as from hardships; and there are circumstances in the story of that +poor friendless slut, that would melt a heart of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page447" id = "page447">447</a></span> +stone, said <i>Trim</i>; and some dismal winter’s evening, when your +honour is in the humour, they shall be told you with the rest of +<i>Tom’s</i> story, for it makes a part of <span class = +"locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>Then do not forget, <i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>A negro has a soul? an’ please your honour, said the corporal +(doubtingly).</p> + +<p>I am not much versed, corporal, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in things +of that kind; but I suppose, God would not leave him without one, any +more than thee or <span class = "locked">me——</span></p> + +<p>——It would be putting one sadly over the head of another, +quoth the corporal.</p> + +<p>It would so; said my uncle <i>Toby</i>. Why then, an’ please your +honour, is a black wench to be used worse than a white one?</p> + +<p>I can give no reason, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>———</p> + +<p>——Only, cried the corporal, shaking his head, because she +has no one to stand up for <span class = +"locked">her——</span></p> + +<p>——’Tis that very thing, <i>Trim</i>, quoth my uncle +<i>Toby</i>,——which recommends her to +protection——and her brethren with her; ’tis the fortune of +war which has put the whip into our hands <i>now</i>——where +it may be hereafter, heaven knows!——but be it where it will, +the brave, <i>Trim!</i> will not use it unkindly.</p> + +<p>——God forbid, said the corporal.</p> + +<p>Amen, responded my uncle <i>Toby</i>, laying his hand upon his +heart.</p> + +<p>The corporal returned to his story, and went on——but with +an embarrassment in doing it, which here and there a reader in this +world will not be able to comprehend; for by the many sudden transitions +all along, from one kind and cordial passion to another, in getting thus +far on his way, he had lost the sportable key of his voice, which gave +sense and spirit to his tale: he attempted twice to resume it, but could +not please himself; so giving a stout hem! to rally back the retreating +spirits, and aiding nature at the same time with his left arm a-kimbo on +one side, and with his right a little extended, supporting her on the +other—the corporal got as near the note as he could; and in that +attitude, continued his story.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapVII" id = "bookIX_chapVII"> +CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> <i>Tom</i>, an’ please your +honour, had no business at that time with the <i>Moorish</i> girl, he +passed on into the room beyond, to talk to the <i>Jew’s</i> widow about +love——and this pound of +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page448" id = "page448">448</a></span> +sausages; and being, as I have told your honour, an open cheary-hearted +lad, with his character wrote in his looks and carriage, he took a +chair, and without much apology, but with great civility at the same +time, placed it close to her at the table, and sat down.</p> + +<p>There is nothing so awkward, as courting a woman, an’ please your +honour, whilst she is making sausages——So <i>Tom</i> began a +discourse upon them; first, gravely,——“as how they were +made——with what meats, herbs, and spices”—Then a +little gayly,—as, “With what skins——and if they never +burst——Whether the largest were not the +best?”——and so on—taking care only as he went along, +to season what he had to say upon sausages, rather under than +over;——that he might have room to act <span class = +"locked">in——</span></p> + +<p>It was owing to the neglect of that very precaution, said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, laying his hand upon <i>Trim’s</i> shoulder, that Count +<i>De la Motte</i> lost the battle of <i>Wynendale</i>: he pressed too +speedily into the wood; which if he had not done, <i>Lisle</i> had not +fallen into our hands, nor <i>Ghent</i> and <i>Bruges</i>, which both +followed her example; it was so late in the year, continued my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, and so terrible a season came on, that if things had not +fallen out as they did, our troops must have perish’d in the open <span +class = "locked">field.——</span></p> + +<p>——Why, therefore, may not battles, an’ please your +honour, as well as marriages, be made in heaven?—My uncle +<i>Toby</i> <span class = "locked">mused——</span></p> + +<p>Religion inclined him to say one thing, and his high idea of military +skill tempted him to say another; so not being able to frame a reply +exactly to his mind——my uncle <i>Toby</i> said nothing at +all; and the corporal finished his story.</p> + +<p>As <i>Tom</i> perceived, an’ please your honour, that he gained +ground, and that all he had said upon the subject of sausages was kindly +taken, he went on to help her a little in making +them.——First, by taking hold of the ring of the sausage +whilst she stroked the forced meat down with her hand——then +by cutting the strings into proper lengths, and holding them in his +hand, whilst she took them out one by one——then, by putting +them across her mouth, that she might take them out as she wanted +them——and so on from little to more, till at last he +adventured to tie the sausage himself, whilst she held the <span class = +"locked">snout.——</span></p> + +<p>——Now a widow, an’ please your honour, always chuses a +second husband as unlike the first as she can: so the affair was more +than half settled in her mind before <i>Tom</i> mentioned it.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page449" id = "page449">449</a></span> +<p>She made a feint however of defending herself, by snatching up a +sausage:——<i>Tom</i> instantly laid hold of <span class = +"locked">another———</span></p> + +<p>But seeing <i>Tom’s</i> had more gristle in +it———</p> + +<p>She signed the capitulation——and <i>Tom</i> sealed it; +and there was an end of the matter.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapVIII" id = "bookIX_chapVIII"> +CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">All</span> womankind, continued +<i>Trim</i>, (commenting upon his story) from the highest to the lowest, +an’ please your honour, love jokes; the difficulty is to know how they +chuse to have them cut; and there is no knowing that, but by trying, as +we do with our artillery in the field, by raising or letting down their +breeches, till we hit the <span class = +"locked">mark.——</span></p> + +<p>——I like the comparison, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, +better than the thing <span class = +"locked">itself——</span></p> + +<p>——Because your honour, quoth the corporal, loves glory, +more than pleasure.</p> + +<p>I hope, <i>Trim</i>, answered my uncle <i>Toby</i>, I love mankind +more than either; and as the knowledge of arms tends so apparently to +the good and quiet of the world——and particularly that +branch of it which we have practised together in our bowling-green, has +no object but to shorten the strides of <span class = +"smallcaps">Ambition</span>, and intrench the lives and fortunes of the +<i>few</i>, from the plunderings of the +<i>many</i>——whenever that drum beats in our ears, +I trust, corporal, we shall neither of us want so much humanity and +fellow-feeling, as to face about and march.</p> + +<p>In pronouncing this, my uncle <i>Toby</i> faced about, and march’d +firmly as at the head of his company——and the faithful +corporal, shouldering his stick, and striking his hand upon his +coat-skirt as he took his first step——march’d close behind +him down the avenue.</p> + +<p>——Now what can their two noddles be about? cried my +father to my mother——by all that’s strange, they are +besieging Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> in form, and are marching round her house +to mark out the lines of circumvallation.</p> + +<p>I dare say, quoth my +mother——————But stop, dear +Sir——for what my mother dared to say upon the +occasion——and what my father did say upon +it——with her replies and his rejoinders, shall be read, +perused, paraphrased, commented, and descanted upon—or to say it +all in a word, shall be thumb’d over by Posterity in a chapter +apart——I say, by Posterity—and +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page450" id = "page450">450</a></span> +care not, if I repeat the word again—for what has this book done +more than the Legation of <i>Moses</i>, or the Tale of a Tub, that it +may not swim down the gutter of Time along with them?</p> + +<p>I will not argue the matter: Time wastes too fast: every letter I +trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen; the days and +hours of it, more precious, my dear <i>Jenny!</i> than the rubies about +thy neck, are flying over our heads like light clouds of a windy day, +never to return more——everything presses +on——whilst thou art twisting that lock,——see! it +grows grey; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every +absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which +we are shortly to <span class = "locked">make.——</span></p> + +<p>——Heaven have mercy upon us both!</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapIX" id = "bookIX_chapIX"> +CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span>, for what the world thinks of +that ejaculation——I would not give a groat.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapX" id = "bookIX_chapX"> +CHAPTER X</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> mother had gone with her left arm +twisted in my father’s right, till they had got to the fatal angle of +the old garden wall, where Doctor <i>Slop</i> was overthrown by +<i>Obadiah</i> on the coach-horse: as this was directly opposite to the +front of Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> house, when my father came to it, he gave +a look across; and seeing my uncle <i>Toby</i> and the corporal within +ten paces of the door, he turn’d about——“Let us just stop a +moment, quoth my father, and see with what ceremonies my brother +<i>Toby</i> and his man <i>Trim</i> make their first +entry——it will not detain us, added my father, a single +minute:”——No matter, if it be ten minutes, quoth my +mother.</p> + +<p>——It will not detain us half one; said my father.</p> + +<p>The corporal was just then setting in with the story of his brother +<i>Tom</i> and the <i>Jew’s</i> widow: the story went on—and +on——it had episodes in it——it came back, and +went on——and on again; there was no end of +it——the reader found it very <span class = +"locked">long——</span></p> + +<p>——G— help my father! he pish’d fifty times at every +new attitude, and gave the corporal’s stick, with all its flourishings +and dangling, to as many devils as chose to accept of them.</p> + +<p>When issues of events like these my father is waiting for, are +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page451" id = "page451">451</a></span> +hanging in the scales of fate, the mind has the advantage of changing +the principle of expectation three times, without which it would not +have power to see it out.</p> + +<p>Curiosity governs the <i>first moment</i>; and the second moment is +all œconomy to justify the expence of the first——and for the +third, fourth, fifth, and sixth moments, and so on to the day of +judgment—’tis a point of <span class = +"smallcaps">Honour</span>.</p> + +<p>I need not be told, that the ethic writers have assigned this all to +Patience; but that <span class = "smallcaps">Virtue</span>, methinks, +has extent of dominion sufficient of her own, and enough to do in it, +without invading the few dismantled castles which <span class = +"smallcaps">Honour</span> has left him upon the earth.</p> + +<p>My father stood it out as well as he could with these three +auxiliaries to the end of <i>Trim’s</i> story; and from thence to the +end of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> panegyrick upon arms, in the chapter +following it; when seeing, that instead of marching up to Mrs. +<i>Wadman’s</i> door, they both faced about and march’d down the avenue +diametrically opposite to his expectation—he broke out at once +with that little subacid soreness of humour which, in certain +situations, distinguished his character from that of all other men.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXI" id = "bookIX_chapXI"> +CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + + +<p>——“<span class = "firstword">Now</span> what can their +two noddles be about?” cried my father - - &c. +- - - -</p> + +<p>I dare say, said my mother, they are making +fortifications——</p> + +<p>———Not on Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> premises! cried my +father, stepping <span class = "locked">back——</span></p> + +<p>I suppose not: quoth my mother.</p> + +<p>I wish, said my father, raising his voice, the whole science of +fortification at the devil, with all its trumpery of saps, mines, +blinds, gabions, fausse-brays and <span class = +"locked">cuvetts———</span></p> + +<p>——They are foolish things——said my +mother.</p> + +<p>Now she had a way, which, by the bye, I would this moment give away +my purple jerkin, and my yellow slippers into the bargain, if some of +your reverences would imitate—and that was, never to refuse her +assent and consent to any proposition my father laid before her, merely +because she did not understand it, or had no ideas of the principal word +or term of art, upon which the tenet or proposition rolled. She +contented herself with doing all that her godfathers and godmothers +promised for +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page452" id = "page452">452</a></span> +her—but no more; and so would go on using a hard word twenty years +together—and replying to it too, if it was a verb, in all its +moods and tenses, without giving herself any trouble to enquire +about it.</p> + +<p>This was an eternal source of misery to my father, and broke the +neck, at the first setting out, of more good dialogues between them, +than could have done the most petulant contradiction——the +few which survived were the better for the <span class = +"locked"><i>cuvetts</i>——</span></p> + +<p>—“They are foolish things;” said my mother.</p> + +<p>——Particularly the <i>cuvetts</i>; replied my father.</p> + +<p>’Tis enough—he tasted the sweet of triumph—and went +on.</p> + +<p>—Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> +premises, said my father, partly correcting himself—because she is +but tenant for <span class = "locked">life——</span></p> + +<p>——That makes a great difference—said my +mother——</p> + +<p>—In a fool’s head, replied my father——</p> + +<p>Unless she should happen to have a child—said my +mother—</p> + +<p>——But she must persuade my brother <i>Toby</i> first to +get her <span class = "locked">one—</span></p> + +<p>——To be sure, Mr. <i>Shandy</i>, quoth my mother.</p> + +<p>——Though if it comes to persuasion—said my +father—Lord have mercy upon them.</p> + +<p>Amen: said my mother, <i>piano</i>.</p> + +<p>Amen: cried my father, <i>fortissimè</i>.</p> + +<p>Amen: said my mother again——but with such a sighing +cadence of personal pity at the end of it, as discomfited every fibre +about my father—he instantly took out his almanack; but before he +could untie it, <i>Yorick’s</i> congregation coming out of church, +became a full answer to one half of his business with it—and my +mother telling him it was a sacrament day—left him as little in +doubt, as to the other part—He put his almanack into his +pocket.</p> + +<p>The first Lord of the Treasury thinking of <i>ways and means</i>, +could not have returned home with a more embarrassed look.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXII" id = "bookIX_chapXII"> +CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Upon</span> looking back from the end of +the last chapter, and surveying the texture of what has been wrote, it +is necessary, that upon this page and the three following, a good +quantity of heterogeneous matter be inserted to keep up that just +balance betwixt wisdom and folly, without which a book would not hold +together +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page453" id = "page453">453</a></span> +a single year: nor is it a poor creeping digression (which but for the +name of, a man might continue as well going on in the king’s +highway) which will do the business——no; if it is to be a +digression, it must be a good frisky one, and upon a frisky subject too, +where neither the horse or his rider are to be caught, but by +rebound.</p> + +<p>The only difficulty, is raising powers suitable to the nature of the +service: <span class = "smallcaps">Fancy</span> is +capricious—<span class = "smallcaps">Wit</span> must not be +searched for—and <span class = "smallcaps">Pleasantry</span> +(good-natured slut as she is) will not come in at a call, was an +empire to be laid at her feet.</p> + +<p>——The best way for a man is to say his +prayers——</p> + +<p>Only if it puts him in mind of his infirmities and defects as well +ghostly as bodily—for that purpose, he will find himself rather +worse after he has said them than before—for other purposes, +better.</p> + +<p>For my own part, there is not a way either moral or mechanical under +heaven that I could think of, which I have not taken with myself in this +case: sometimes by addressing myself directly to the soul herself, and +arguing the point over and over again with her upon the extent of her +own <span class = "locked">faculties——</span></p> + +<p>——I never could make them an inch the +wider——</p> + +<p>Then by changing my system, and trying what could be made of it upon +the body, by temperance, soberness, and chastity: These are good, quoth +I, in themselves—they are good, absolutely;—they are good, +relatively;—they are good for health—they are good for +happiness in this world—they are good for happiness in the <span +class = "locked">next——</span></p> + +<p>In short, they were good for everything but the thing wanted; and +there they were good for nothing, but to leave the soul just as heaven +made it: as for the theological virtues of faith and hope, they give it +courage; but then that snivelling virtue of Meekness (as my father +would always call it) takes it quite away again, so you are exactly +where you started.</p> + +<p>Now in all common and ordinary cases, there is nothing which I have +found to answer so well as <span class = +"locked">this——</span></p> + +<p>——Certainly, if there is any dependence upon Logic, and +that I am not blinded by self-love, there must be something of true +genius about me, merely upon this symptom of it, that I do not know what +envy is: for never do I hit upon any invention or device which tendeth +to the furtherance of good writing, but I instantly make it public; +willing that all mankind should write as well as myself.</p> + +<p>——Which they certainly will, when they think as +little.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page454" id = "page454">454</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXIII" id = "bookIX_chapXIII"> +CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> in ordinary cases, that is, when +I am only stupid, and the thoughts rise heavily and pass gummous through +my <span class = "locked">pen——</span></p> + +<p>Or that I am got, I know not how, into a cold unmetaphorical vein of +infamous writing, and cannot take a plumb-lift out of it <i>for my +soul</i>; so must be obliged to go on writing like a <i>Dutch</i> +commentator to the end of the chapter, unless something be <span class = +"locked">done——</span></p> + +<p>——I never stand conferring with pen and ink one moment; +for if a pinch of snuff, or a stride or two across the room will not do +the business for me—I take a razor at once; and having tried +the edge of it upon the palm of my hand, without further ceremony, +except that of first lathering my beard, I shave it off; taking +care only if I do leave a hair, that it be not a grey one: this done, +I change my shirt—put on a better coat—send for my last +wig—put my topaz ring upon my finger; and in a word, dress myself +from one end to the other of me, after my best fashion.</p> + +<p>Now the devil in hell must be in it, if this does not do: for +consider, Sir, as every man chuses to be present at the shaving of his +own beard (though there is no rule without an exception), and +unavoidably sits over-against himself the whole time it is doing, in +case he has a hand in it—the Situation, like all others, has +notions of her own to put into the <span class = +"locked">brain.——</span></p> + +<p>——I maintain it, the conceits of a rough-bearded man, are +seven years more terse and juvenile for one single operation; and if +they did not run a risk of being quite shaved away, might be carried up +by continual shavings, to the highest pitch of sublimity—How +<i>Homer</i> could write with so long a beard, I don’t +know——and as it makes against my hypothesis, I as +little care——But let us return to the Toilet.</p> + +<p><i>Ludovicus Sorbonensis</i> makes this entirely an affair of the +body (<span class = "greek" title = "exôterikê praxis">ἐξωτερικὴ +πρᾶξις</span>) as he calls it——but he is deceived: the soul +and body are joint-sharers in everything they get: A man cannot +dress, but his ideas get cloath’d at the same time; and if he dresses +like a gentleman, every one of them stands presented to his imagination, +genteelized along with him—so that he has nothing to do, but take +his pen, and write like himself.</p> + +<p>For this cause, when your honours and reverences would know whether I +writ clean and fit to be read, you will be able +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page455" id = "page455">455</a></span> +to judge full as well by looking into my Laundress’s bill, as my book: +there was one single month in which I can make it appear, that I dirtied +one and thirty shirts with clean writing; and after all, was more +abus’d, cursed, criticis’d, and confounded, and had more mystic heads +shaken at me, for what I had wrote in that one month, than in all the +other months of that year put together.</p> + +<p>——But their honours and reverences had not seen my +bills.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXIV" id = "bookIX_chapXIV"> +CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> I never had any intention of +beginning the Digression I am making all this preparation for, till I +come to the 15th chapter——I have this chapter to put to +whatever use I think proper——I have twenty this moment +ready for it——I could write my chapter of Button-holes +in <span class = "locked">it——</span></p> + +<p>Or my chapter of <i>Pishes</i>, which should follow +them——</p> + +<p>Or my chapter of <i>Knots</i>, in case their reverences have done +with them——they might lead me into mischief: the safest way +is to follow the track of the learned, and raise objections against what +I have been writing, tho’ I declare beforehand, I know no more +than my heels how to answer them.</p> + +<p>And first, it may be said, there is a pelting kind of +<i>thersitical</i> satire, as black as the very ink ’tis wrote +with——(and by the bye, whoever says so, is indebted to the +muster-master general of the <i>Grecian</i> army, for suffering the name +of so ugly and foul-mouth’d a man as <i>Thersites</i> to continue upon +his roll——for it has furnish’d him with an +epithet)——in these productions he will urge, all the +personal washings and scrubbings upon earth do a sinking genius no sort +of good——but just the contrary, inasmuch as the dirtier the +fellow is, the better generally he succeeds in it.</p> + +<p>To this, I have no other answer——at least +ready——but that the Archbishop of <i>Benevento</i> wrote his +<i>nasty</i> Romance of the <i>Galatea</i>, as all the world knows, in a +purple coat, waistcoat, and purple pair of breeches; and that the +penance set him of writing a commentary upon the book of the +<i>Revelations</i>, as severe as it was look’d upon by one part of the +world, was far from being deem’d so by the other, upon the single +account of that <i>Investment</i>.</p> + +<p>Another objection, to all this remedy, is its want of universality; +forasmuch as the shaving part of it, upon which so much stress is laid, +by an unalterable law of nature excludes +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page456" id = "page456">456</a></span> +one half of the species entirely from its use: all I can say is, that +female writers, whether of <i>England</i>, or of <i>France</i>, must +e’en go without <span class = +"locked">it———</span></p> + +<p>As for the <i>Spanish</i> ladies——I am in no sort of +distress——</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXV" id = "bookIX_chapXV"> +CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> fifteenth chapter is come at +last; and brings nothing with it but a sad signature of “How our +pleasures slip from under us in this world!”</p> + +<p>For in talking of my digression——I declare before heaven +I have made it! What a strange creature is mortal man! said she.</p> + +<p>’Tis very true, said I——but ’twere better to get all +these things out of our heads, and return to my uncle <i>Toby</i>.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXVI" id = "bookIX_chapXVI"> +CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> and the +corporal had marched down to the bottom of the avenue, they recollected +their business lay the other way; so they faced about and marched up +straight to Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> door.</p> + +<p>I warrant your honour; said the corporal, touching his +<i>Montero</i>-cap with his hand, as he passed him in order to give a +knock at the door——My uncle <i>Toby</i>, contrary to his +invariable way of treating his faithful servant, said nothing good or +bad: the truth was, he had not altogether marshal’d his ideas; he wish’d +for another conference, and as the corporal was mounting up the three +steps before the door—he hem’d twice—a portion of my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> most modest spirits fled, at each expulsion, towards +the corporal; he stood with the rapper of the door suspended for a full +minute in his hand, he scarce knew why. <i>Bridget</i> stood perdue +within, with her finger and her thumb upon the latch, benumb’d with +expectation; and Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, with an eye ready to be deflowered +again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of her bed-chamber, +watching their approach.</p> + +<p><i>Trim!</i> said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——but as he +articulated the word, the minute expired, and <i>Trim</i> let fall the +rapper.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> perceiving that all hopes of a conference were +knock’d on the head by it———whistled Lillabullero.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page457" id = "page457">457</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXVII" id = "bookIX_chapXVII"> +CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> Mrs. <i>Bridget’s</i> finger and +thumb were upon the latch, the corporal did not knock as oft as +perchance your honour’s taylor——I might have taken my +example something nearer home; for I owe mine, some five and twenty +pounds at least, and wonder at the man’s <span class = +"locked">patience——</span></p> + +<p>——But this is nothing at all to the world: only ’tis a +cursed thing to be in debt, and there seems to be a fatality in the +exchequers of some poor princes, particularly those of our house, which +no Economy can bind down in irons: for my own part, I’m persuaded there +is not any one prince, prelate, pope, or potentate, great or small upon +earth, more desirous in his heart of keeping straight with the world +than I am——or who takes more likely means for it. +I never give above half a guinea——or walk with +boots——or cheapen tooth-picks——or lay out a +shilling upon a band-box the year round; and for the six months I’m in +the country, I’m upon so small a scale, that with all the good temper in +the world, I outdo <i>Rousseau</i>, a bar +length———for I keep neither man or boy, or horse, or +cow, or dog, or cat, or anything that can eat or drink, except a thin +poor piece of a Vestal (to keep my fire in), and who has +generally as bad an appetite as myself——but if you think +this makes a philosopher of me——I would not my good +people! give a rush for your judgments.</p> + +<p>True philosophy——but there is no treating the subject +whilst my uncle is whistling Lillabullero.</p> + +<p>——Let us go into the house.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page458" id = "page458">458</a></span> + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXVIII" id = "bookIX_chapXVIII"> +CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + +<p><img src = "images/onedot.gif" width = "12" height = "450" alt = +"[blank space]" /></p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page459" id = "page459">459</a></span> + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXIX" id = "bookIX_chapXIX"> +CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> +<p><img src = "images/onedot.gif" width = "12" height = "450" alt = +"[blank space]" /></p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page460" id = "page460">460</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXX" id = "bookIX_chapXX"> +CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + + +<p>——— +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</span></p> + +<p>*     <span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * +* * * *</span> +.———</p> + +<p>——You shall see the very place, Madam; said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>.</p> + +<p>Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> blush’d——look’d towards the +door——turn’d pale——blush’d slightly +again——recover’d her natural colour——blush’d +worse than ever; which, for the sake of the unlearned reader, +I translate <span class = "locked">thus——</span></p> + +<div class = "ital"> +<p>“L—d! I cannot look at it——</p> +<p> What would the world say if I look’d at it?</p> +<p> I should drop down, if I look’d at it—</p> +<p> I wish I could look at it——</p> +<p> There can be no sin in looking at it.</p> +<p> ——I will look at it.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Whilst all this was running through Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> imagination, +my uncle <i>Toby</i> had risen from the sopha, and got to the other side +of the parlour door, to give <i>Trim</i> an order about it in the <span +class = "locked">passage——</span></p> + +<p>*      <span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * +* * * * * * *</span></p> + +<p><span class = "space35">* </span>*——I believe it is in +the garret, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>——I saw it there, +an’ please your honour, this morning, answered +<i>Trim</i>——Then prithee, step directly for it, +<i>Trim</i>, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and bring it into the +parlour.</p> + +<p>The corporal did not approve of the orders, but most chearfully +obeyed them. The first was not an act of his will—the second was; +so he put on his <i>Montero</i>-cap, and went as fast as his lame knee +would let him. My uncle <i>Toby</i> returned into the parlour, and sat +himself down again upon the sopha.</p> + +<p>——You shall lay your finger upon the place—said my +uncle <i>Toby</i>.——I will not touch it, however, quoth +Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> to herself.</p> + +<p>This requires a second translation:—it shews what little +knowledge is got by mere words—we must go up to the first +springs.</p> + +<p>Now in order to clear up the mist which hangs upon +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page461" id = "page461">461</a></span> +these three pages, I must endeavour to be as clear as possible +myself.</p> + +<p>Rub your hands thrice across your foreheads—blow your +noses—cleanse your emunctories—sneeze, my good +people!——God bless <span class = +"locked">you——</span></p> + +<p>Now give me all the help you can.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXI" id = "bookIX_chapXXI"> +CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> there are fifty different ends +(counting all ends in——as well civil as religious) for which +a woman takes a husband, she first sets about and carefully weighs, then +separates and distinguishes in her mind, which of all that number of +ends is hers: then by discourse, enquiry, argumentation, and inference, +she investigates and finds out whether she has got hold of the right +one——and if she has——then, by pulling it gently +this way and that way, she further forms a judgment, whether it will not +break in the drawing.</p> + +<p>The imagery under which <i>Slawkenbergius</i> impresses this upon the +reader’s fancy, in the beginning of his third Decad, is so ludicrous, +that the honour I bear the sex, will not suffer me to quote +it——otherwise it is not destitute of humour.</p> + +<p>“She first, saith <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, stops the asse, and holding +his halter in her left hand (lest he should get away) she thrusts her +right hand into the very bottom of his pannier to search for +it—For what?—you’ll not know the sooner, quoth +<i>Slawkenbergius</i>, for interrupting <span class = +"locked">me——</span></p> + +<p>“I have nothing, good Lady, but empty bottles;” says the asse.</p> + +<p>“I’m loaded with tripes;” says the second.</p> + +<p>——And thou art little better, quoth she to the third; for +nothing is there in thy panniers but trunk-hose and pantofles—and +so to the fourth and fifth, going on one by one through the whole +string, till coming to the asse which carries it, she turns the pannier +upside down, looks at it—considers it—samples +it—measures it—stretches it—wets it—dries +it—then takes her teeth both to the warp and weft of it.</p> + +<p>——Of what? for the love of Christ!</p> + +<p>I am determined, answered <i>Slawkenbergius</i>, that all the powers +upon earth shall never wring that secret from my breast.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page462" id = "page462">462</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXII" id = "bookIX_chapXXII"> +CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">We</span> live in a world beset on all +sides with mysteries and riddles—and so ’tis no +matter——else it seems strange, that Nature, who makes +everything so well to answer its destination, and seldom or never errs, +unless for pastime, in giving such forms and aptitudes to whatever +passes through her hands, that whether she designs for the plough, the +caravan, the cart—or whatever other creature she models, be it but +an asse’s foal, you are sure to have the thing you wanted; and yet at +the same time should so eternally bungle it as she does, in making so +simple a thing as a married man.</p> + +<p>Whether it is in the choice of the clay——or that it is +frequently spoiled in the baking; by an excess of which a husband may +turn out too crusty (you know) on one hand——or not enough +so, through defect of heat, on the other——or whether this +great Artificer is not so attentive to the little Platonic exigences +<i>of that part</i> of the species, for whose use she is fabricating +<i>this</i>——or that her Ladyship sometimes scarce knows +what sort of a husband will do——I know not: we will +discourse about it after supper.</p> + +<p>It is enough, that neither the observation itself, or the reasoning +upon it, are at all to the purpose——but rather against it; +since with regard to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> fitness for the marriage +state, nothing was ever better: she had formed him of the best and +kindliest clay——had temper’d it with her own milk, and +breathed into it the sweetest spirit——she had made him all +gentle, generous, and humane——she had filled his heart with +trust and confidence, and disposed every passage which led to it, for +the communication of the tenderest offices——she had moreover +considered the other causes for which matrimony was <span class = +"locked">ordained——</span></p> + +<p>And accordingly +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</span> +.</p> + +<p>The <span class = "smallroman">DONATION</span> was not defeated by my +uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wound.</p> + +<p>Now this last article was somewhat apocryphal; and the Devil, who is +the great disturber of our faiths in this world, had raised scruples in +Mrs. <i>Wadman’s</i> brain about it; and like a true devil as he was, +had done his own work at the same time, by turning my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> Virtue thereupon into nothing but <i>empty bottles</i>, +<i>tripes</i>, <i>trunk-hose</i>, and <i>pantofles</i>.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page463" id = "page463">463</a></span> +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXIII" id = "bookIX_chapXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Mrs</span>. <i>Bridget</i> had pawn’d all +the little stock of honour a poor chambermaid was worth in the world, +that she would get to the bottom of the affair in ten days; and it was +built upon one of the most concessible <i>postulata</i> in nature: +namely, that whilst my uncle <i>Toby</i> was making love to her +mistress, the corporal could find nothing better to do, than make love +to her——“<i>And I’ll let him as much as he will</i>, said +<i>Bridget</i>, <i>to get it out of him</i>.”</p> + +<p>Friendship has two garments; an outer and an under one. +<i>Bridget</i> was serving her mistress’s interests in the one—and +doing the thing which most pleased herself in the other; so had as many +stakes depending upon my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> wound, as the Devil +himself——Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had but one—and as it +possibly might be her last (without discouraging Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, or +discrediting her talents) was determined to play her cards herself.</p> + +<p>She wanted not encouragement: a child might have look’d into his +hand——there was such a plainness and simplicity in his +playing out what trumps he had——with such an unmistrusting +ignorance of the <i>ten-ace</i>——and so naked and +defenceless did he sit upon the same sopha with widow <i>Wadman</i>, +that a generous heart would have wept to have won the game of him.</p> + +<p>Let us drop the metaphor.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXIV" id = "bookIX_chapXXIV"> +CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">And</span> the story +too—if you please: for though I have all along been hastening +towards this part of it, with so much earnest desire, as well knowing it +to be the choicest morsel of what I had to offer to the world, yet now +that I am got to it, any one is welcome to take my pen, and go on with +the story for me that will—I see the difficulties of the +descriptions I’m going to give—and feel my want of powers.</p> + +<p>It is one comfort at least to me, that I lost some fourscore ounces +of blood this week in a most uncritical fever which attacked me at the +beginning of this chapter; so that I have still some hopes remaining, it +may be more in the serous or globular parts of the blood, than in the +subtile <i>aura</i> of the brain——be it which it +will—an Invocation can do no hurt——and I leave the +affair entirely to the <i>invoked</i>, to inspire or to inject me +according as he sees good.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page464" id = "page464">464</a></span> + +<h5><a name = "bookIX_invoc" id = "bookIX_invoc">THE INVOCATION</a></h5> + +<p><span class = "firstword">Gentle</span> Spirit of sweetest humour, +who erst did sit upon the easy pen of my beloved <span class = +"smallcaps">Cervantes</span>; Thou who glided’st daily through his +lattice, and turned’st the twilight of his prison into noonday +brightness by thy presence——tinged’st his little urn of +water with heaven-sent nectar, and all the time he wrote of +<i>Sancho</i> and his master, didst cast thy mystic mantle o’er his +wither’d stump,<a class = "tag" name = "tag_9_1" id = "tag_9_1" href = +"#note_9_1">1</a> and wide extended it to all the evils of his <span +class = "locked">life———</span></p> + +<p>——Turn in hither, I beseech thee!——behold +these breeches!——they are all I have in the +world——that piteous rent was given them at <span class = +"locked"><i>Lyons</i>———</span></p> + +<p>My shirts! see what a deadly schism has happen’d amongst +’em—for the laps are in <i>Lombardy</i>, and the rest of ’em +here—I never had but six, and a cunning gypsey of a laundress +at <i>Milan</i> cut me off the <i>fore</i>-laps of five—To do her +justice, she did it with some consideration—for I was returning +out of <i>Italy</i>.</p> + +<p>And yet, notwithstanding all this, and a pistol tinderbox which was +moreover filch’d from me at <i>Sienna</i>, and twice that I pay’d five +Pauls for two hard eggs, once at <i>Raddicoffini</i>, and a second time +at <i>Capua</i>—I do not think a journey through +<i>France</i> and <i>Italy</i>, provided a man keeps his temper all the +way, so bad a thing as some people would make you believe: there must be +<i>ups</i> and <i>downs</i>, or how the duce should we get into vallies +where Nature spreads so many tables of entertainment.—’Tis +nonsense to imagine they will lend you their voitures to be shaken to +pieces for nothing; and unless you pay twelve sous for greasing your +wheels, how should the poor peasant get butter to his bread?—We +really expect too much—and for the livre or two above par for your +suppers and bed—at the most they are but one shilling and +ninepence halfpenny——who would embroil their philosophy for +it? for heaven’s and for your own sake, pay it——pay it with +both hands open, rather than leave <i>Disappointment</i> sitting +drooping upon the eye of your fair Hostess and her Damsels in the +gateway, at your departure——and besides, my dear Sir, you +get a sisterly kiss of each of ’em worth a pound——at least I +<span class = "locked">did——</span></p> + +<p>——For my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> amours running all the way +in my head, they had the same effect upon me as if they had been my +own——I was in the most perfect state of bounty and +good-will; +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page465" id = "page465">465</a></span> +and felt the kindliest harmony vibrating within me, with every +oscillation of the chaise alike; so that whether the roads were rough or +smooth, it made no difference; everything I saw or had to do with, +touch’d upon some secret spring either of sentiment or rapture.</p> + +<p>——They were the sweetest notes I ever heard; and I +instantly let down the fore-glass to hear them more +distinctly——’Tis <i>Maria</i>; said the postillion, +observing I was listening——Poor <i>Maria</i>, continued he +(leaning his body on one side to let me see her, for he was in a line +betwixt us), is sitting upon a bank playing her vespers upon her +pipe, with her little goat beside her.</p> + +<p>The young fellow utter’d this with an accent and a look so perfectly +in tune to a feeling heart, that I instantly made a vow, I would +give him a four-and-twenty sous piece, when I got to <span class = +"locked"><i>Moulins</i>——</span></p> + +<p>———And who is <i>poor Maria?</i> said I.</p> + +<p>The love and piety of all the villages around us; said the +postillion——it is but three years ago, that the sun did not +shine upon so fair, so quick-witted and amiable a maid; and better fate +did <i>Maria</i> deserve, than to have her Banns forbid, by the +intrigues of the curate of the parish who published <span class = +"locked">them——</span></p> + +<p>He was going on, when <i>Maria</i>, who had made a short pause, put +the pipe to her mouth, and began the air again——they were +the same notes;——yet were ten times sweeter: It is the +evening service to the Virgin, said the young man——but who +has taught her to play it—or how she came by her pipe, no one +knows; we think that heaven has assisted her in both; for ever since she +has been unsettled in her mind, it seems her only +consolation——she has never once had the pipe out of her +hand, but plays that <i>service</i> upon it almost night and day.</p> + +<p>The postillion delivered this with so much discretion and natural +eloquence, that I could not help decyphering something in his face above +his condition, and should have sifted out his history, had not poor +<i>Maria</i> taken such full possession of me.</p> + +<p>We had got up by this time almost to the bank where <i>Maria</i> was +sitting: she was in a thin white jacket, with her hair, all but two +tresses, drawn up into a silk-net, with a few olive leaves twisted a +little fantastically on one side——she was beautiful; and if +ever I felt the full force of an honest heart-ache, it was the moment I +saw <span class = "locked">her——</span></p> + +<p>——God help her! poor damsel! above a hundred masses, +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page466" id = "page466">466</a></span> +said the postillion, have been said in the several parish churches and +convents around, for her,——but without effect; we have still +hopes, as she is sensible for short intervals, that the Virgin at last +will restore her to herself; but her parents, who know her best, are +hopeless upon that score, and think her senses are lost for ever.</p> + +<p>As the postillion spoke this, <span class = "smallcaps">Maria</span> +made a cadence so melancholy, so tender and querulous, that I sprung out +of the chaise to help her, and found myself sitting betwixt her and her +goat before I relapsed from my enthusiasm.</p> + +<p><span class = "smallcaps">Maria</span> look’d wistfully for some time +at me, and then at her goat——and then at me——and +then at her goat again, and so on, <span class = +"locked">alternately——</span></p> + +<p>——Well, <i>Maria</i>, said I softly——What +resemblance do you find?</p> + +<p>I do entreat the candid reader to believe me, that it was from the +humblest conviction of what a <i>Beast</i> man is,——that I +asked the question; and that I would not have let fallen an unseasonable +pleasantry in the venerable presence of Misery, to be entitled to all +the wit that ever <i>Rabelais</i> scatter’d——and yet I own +my heart smote me, and that I so smarted at the very idea of it, that I +swore I would set up for Wisdom, and utter grave sentences the rest of +my days——and never——never attempt again to +commit mirth with man, woman, or child, the longest day I had to +live.</p> + +<p>As for writing nonsense to them——I believe, there was a +reserve—but that I leave to the world.</p> + +<p>Adieu, <i>Maria!</i>—adieu, poor hapless +damsel!——some time, but not <i>now</i>, I may hear thy +sorrows from thy own lips——but I was deceived; for that +moment she took her pipe and told me such a tale of woe with it, that I +rose up, and with broken and irregular steps walk’d softly to my +chaise.</p> + +<p>———What an excellent inn at <i>Moulins!</i></p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXV" id = "bookIX_chapXXV"> +CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">When</span> we have got to the end of this +chapter (but not before) we must all turn back to the two blank +chapters, on the account of which my honour has lain bleeding this half +hour——I stop it, by pulling off one of my yellow +slippers and throwing it with all my violence to the opposite side of my +room, with a declaration at the heel of <span class = +"locked">it——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page467" id = "page467">467</a></span> +<p>——That whatever resemblance it may bear to half the +chapters which are written in the world, or for aught I know may be now +writing in it—that it was as casual as the foam of <i>Zeuxis</i> +his horse; besides, I look upon a chapter which has <i>only nothing +in it</i>, with respect; and considering what worse things there are in +the world——That it is no way a proper subject for <span +class = "locked">satire———</span></p> + +<p>——Why then was it left so? And here without staying for +my reply, shall I be called as many blockheads, numsculs, doddypoles, +dunderheads, ninny-hammers, goosecaps, joltheads, nincompoops, and +sh- -t-a-beds——and other unsavoury appellations, as +ever the cake-bakers of <i>Lernè</i> cast in the teeth of King +<i>Garangantan’s</i> shepherds——And I’ll let them do it, as +<i>Bridget</i> said, as much as they please; for how was it possible +they should foresee the necessity I was under of writing the 25th +chapter of my book, before the 18th, &c.?</p> + +<p>———So I don’t take it amiss——All I wish +is, that it may be a lesson to the world, “<i>to let people tell their +stories their own way</i>.”</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXVIIIb" id = "bookIX_chapXVIIIb"> +THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> Mrs. <i>Bridget</i> opened the +door before the corporal had well given the rap, the interval betwixt +that and my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> introduction into the parlour, was so +short, that Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had but just time to get from behind the +curtain——lay a Bible upon the table, and advance a step or +two towards the door to receive him.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> saluted Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, after the manner in +which women were saluted by men in the year of our Lord God one thousand +seven hundred and thirteen——then facing about, he march’d up +abreast with her to the sopha, and in three plain +words——though not before he was sat down——nor +after he was sat down——but as he was sitting down, told her, +“<i>he was in love</i>”——so that my uncle <i>Toby</i> +strained himself more in the declaration than he needed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> naturally looked down, upon a slit she had been +darning up in her apron, in expectation every moment, that my uncle +<i>Toby</i> would go on; but having no talents for amplification, and +Love moreover of all others being a subject of which he was the least a +master——When he had told Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> once that he +loved her, he let it alone, and left the matter to work after its own +way.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page468" id = "page468">468</a></span> +<p>My father was always in raptures with this system of my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i>, as he falsely called it, and would often say, that could +his brother <i>Toby</i> to his process have added but a pipe of +tobacco——he had wherewithal to have found his way, if there +was faith in a <i>Spanish</i> proverb, towards the hearts of half the +women upon the globe.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> never understood what my father meant; nor will +I presume to extract more from it, than a condemnation of an error which +the bulk of the world lie under——but the <i>French</i> every +one of ’em to a man, who believe in it, almost, as much as the <span +class = "smallroman">REAL PRESENCE</span>, “<i>That talking of love, is +making it</i>.”</p> + +<p>———I would as soon set about making a black-pudding +by the same receipt.</p> + +<p>Let us go on: Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> sat in expectation my uncle +<i>Toby</i> would do so, to almost the first pulsation of that minute, +wherein silence on one side or the other, generally becomes indecent: so +edging herself a little more towards him, and raising up her eyes, +sub-blushing, as she did it——she took up the +gauntlet——or the discourse (if you like it better) and +communed with my uncle <i>Toby</i>, thus:</p> + +<p>The cares and disquietudes of the marriage state, quoth Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i>, are very great. I suppose so—said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>: and therefore when a person, continued Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, +is so much at his ease as you are—so happy, captain <i>Shandy</i>, +in yourself, your friends and your amusements—I wonder, what +reasons can incline you to the <span class = +"locked">state———</span></p> + +<p>——They are written, quoth my uncle <i>Toby</i>, in the +Common-Prayer Book.</p> + +<p>Thus far my uncle <i>Toby</i> went on warily, and kept within his +depth, leaving Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> to sail upon the gulph as she +pleased.</p> + +<p>——As for children—said Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i>—though a principal end perhaps of the institution, +and the natural wish, I suppose, of every parent—yet do not +we all find, they are certain sorrows, and very uncertain comforts? and +what is there, dear sir, to pay one for the heart-aches—what +compensation for the many tender and disquieting apprehensions of a +suffering and defenceless mother who brings them into life? +I declare, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, smit with pity, I know +of none; unless it be the pleasure which it has pleased <span class = +"locked">God——</span></p> + +<p>A fiddlestick! quoth she.</p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page469" id = "page469">469</a></span> + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXIXb" id = "bookIX_chapXIXb"> +CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> there are such an infinitude of +notes, tunes, cants, chants, airs, looks, and accents with which the +word <i>fiddlestick</i> may be pronounced in all such causes as this, +every one of ’em impressing a sense and meaning as different from the +other, as <i>dirt</i> from <i>cleanliness</i>—That Casuists (for +it is an affair of conscience on that score) reckon up no less than +fourteen thousand in which you may do either right or wrong.</p> + +<p>Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> hit upon the <i>fiddlestick</i>, which summoned up +all my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> modest blood into his cheeks—so feeling +within himself that he had somehow or other got beyond his depth, he +stopt short; and without entering further either into the pains or +pleasures of matrimony, he laid his hand upon his heart, and made an +offer to take them as they were, and share them along with her.</p> + +<p>When my uncle <i>Toby</i> had said this, he did not care to say it +again; so casting his eye upon the Bible which Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had +laid upon the table, he took it up; and popping, dear soul! upon a +passage in it, of all others the most interesting to him—which was +the siege of <i>Jericho</i>—he set himself to read it +over—leaving his proposal of marriage, as he had done his +declaration of love, to work with her after its own way. Now it wrought +neither as an astringent or a loosener; nor like opium, or bark, or +mercury, or buckthorn, or any one drug which nature had bestowed upon +the world—in short, it work’d not at all in her; and the cause of +that was, that there was something working there +before——Babbler that I am! I have anticipated what it +was a dozen times; but there is fire still in the +subject——allons.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXVI" id = "bookIX_chapXXVI"> +CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> is natural for a perfect stranger +who is going from <i>London</i> to <i>Edinburgh</i>, to enquire before +he sets out, how many miles to <i>York</i>; which is about the half +way——nor does anybody wonder, if he goes on and asks about +the corporation, <span class = "locked">&c.—</span></p> + +<p>It was just as natural for Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, whose first husband +was all his time afflicted with a Sciatica, to wish to know how far from +the hip to the groin; and how far she was likely to suffer more or less +in her feelings, in the one case than in the other.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page470" id = "page470">470</a></span> +<p>She had accordingly read <i>Drake’s</i> anatomy from one end to the +other. She had peeped into <i>Wharton</i> upon the brain, and borrowed<a +class = "tag" name = "tag_9_2" id = "tag_9_2" href = "#note_9_2">2</a> +<i>Graaf</i> upon the bones and muscles; but could make nothing +of it.</p> + +<p>She had reason’d likewise from her own powers——laid down +theorems——drawn consequences, and come to no conclusion.</p> + +<p>To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor <i>Slop</i>, “if poor +captain <i>Shandy</i> was ever likely to recover of his +wound——?”</p> + +<p>——He is recovered, Doctor <i>Slop</i> would +say——</p> + +<p>What! quite?</p> + +<p>Quite: madam——</p> + +<p>But what do you mean by a recovery? Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> would say.</p> + +<p>Doctor <i>Slop</i> was the worst man alive at definitions; and so +Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> could get no knowledge: in short, there was no way to +extract it, but from my uncle <i>Toby</i> himself.</p> + +<p>There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind which lulls +<span class = "smallcaps">Suspicion</span> to rest——and I am +half persuaded the serpent got pretty near it, in his discourse with +Eve; for the propensity in the sex to be deceived could not be so great, +that she should have boldness to hold chat with the devil, without +it——But there is an accent of humanity——how +shall I describe it?—’tis an accent which covers the part with a +garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as particular with it, as +your body-surgeon.</p> + +<p>“——Was it without remission?—</p> + +<p>“——Was it more tolerable in bed?</p> + +<p>“——Could he lie on both sides alike with it?</p> + +<p>“—Was he able to mount a horse?</p> + +<p>“—Was motion bad for it?” <i>et cætera</i>, were so tenderly +spoke to, and so directed towards my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> heart, that +every item of them sunk ten times deeper into it than the evils +themselves——but when Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> went round about by +<i>Namur</i> to get at my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> groin; and engaged him to +attack the point of the advanced counterscarp, and <i>pêle mêle</i> with +the <i>Dutch</i> to take the counterguard of St. <i>Roch</i> sword in +hand—and then with tender notes playing upon his ear, led him all +bleeding by the hand out of the trench, wiping her eye, as he was +carried to his tent——Heaven! Earth! Sea!—all was +lifted up—the springs of nature rose above their levels—an +angel of mercy sat besides him on the sopha—his heart glow’d with +fire—and had he been +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page471" id = "page471">471</a></span> +worth a thousand, he had lost every heart of them to Mrs. +<i>Wadman</i>.</p> + +<p>—And whereabouts, dear Sir, quoth Mrs. <i>Wadman</i>, a little +categorically, did you receive this sad blow?——In asking +this question, Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> gave a slight glance towards the +waistband of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> red plush breeches, expecting +naturally, as the shortest reply to it, that my uncle <i>Toby</i> would +lay his forefinger upon the place——It fell out +otherwise——for my uncle <i>Toby</i> having got his wound +before the gate of St. <i>Nicolas</i>, in one of the traverses of the +trench opposite to the salient angle of the demibastion of St. +<i>Roch</i>; he could at any time stick a pin upon the identical spot of +ground where he was standing when the stone struck him: this struck +instantly upon my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> sensorium——and with +it, struck his large map of the town and citadel of <i>Namur</i> and its +environs, which he had purchased and pasted down upon a board, by the +corporal’s aid, during his long illness——it had lain with +other military lumber in the garret ever since, and accordingly the +corporal was detached into the garret to fetch it.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> measured off thirty toises, with Mrs. +<i>Wadman’s</i> scissars, from the returning angle before the gate of +St. <i>Nicolas</i>; and with such a virgin modesty laid her finger upon +the place, that the goddess of Decency, if then in being—if not, +’twas her shade—shook her head, and with a finger wavering across +her eyes—forbid her to explain the mistake.</p> + +<p>Unhappy Mrs. <i>Wadman!</i></p> + +<p>——For nothing can make this chapter go off with spirit +but an apostrophe to thee——but my heart tells me, that in +such a crisis an apostrophe is but an insult in disguise, and ere I +would offer one to a woman in distress—let the chapter go to the +devil; provided any damn’d critic <i>in keeping</i> will be but at the +trouble to take it with him.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXVII" id = "bookIX_chapXXVII"> +CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby’s</i> Map is +carried down into the kitchen.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXVIII" id = "bookIX_chapXXVIII"> +CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">And</span> here is the +<i>Maes</i>—and this is the <i>Sambre</i>; said the corporal, +pointing with his right hand extended a little towards +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page472" id = "page472">472</a></span> +the map and his left upon Mrs. <i>Bridget’s</i> +shoulder——but not the shoulder next him—and this, said +he, is the town of <i>Namur</i>—and this the citadel—and +there lay the <i>French</i>—and here lay his honour and +myself——and in this cursed trench, Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, +quoth the corporal, taking her by the hand, did he receive the wound +which crush’d him so miserably <i>here</i>.——In pronouncing +which, he slightly press’d the back of her hand towards the part he felt +for——and let it fall.</p> + +<p>We thought, Mr. <i>Trim</i>, it had been more in the +middle,——said Mrs. <span class = +"locked"><i>Bridget</i>——</span></p> + +<p>That would have undone us for ever—said the corporal.</p> + +<p>——And left my poor mistress undone too, said +<i>Bridget</i>.</p> + +<p>The corporal made no reply to the repartee, but by giving Mrs. +<i>Bridget</i> a kiss.</p> + +<p>Come—come—said <i>Bridget</i>—holding the palm of +her left hand parallel to the plane of the horizon, and sliding the +fingers of the other over it, in a way which could not have been done, +had there been the least wart or protuberance——’Tis every +syllable of it false, cried the corporal, before she had half finished +the <span class = "locked">sentence——</span></p> + +<p>—I know it to be fact, said <i>Bridget</i>, from credible +witnesses.</p> + +<p>———Upon my honour, said the corporal, laying his +hand upon his heart and blushing, as he spoke, with honest +resentment—’tis a story, Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, as false as +hell——Not, said <i>Bridget</i>, interrupting him, that +either I or my mistress care a halfpenny about it, whether ’tis so or +no———only that when one is married, one would chuse to +have such a thing by one at <span class = +"locked">least——</span></p> + +<p>It was somewhat unfortunate for Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, that she had +begun the attack with her manual exercise; for the corporal instantly +<span class = "space35">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</span> +.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXIX" id = "bookIX_chapXXIX"> +CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">It</span> was like the momentary contest in +the moist eye-lids of an <i>April</i> morning, “Whether <i>Bridget</i> +should laugh or cry.”</p> + +<p>She snatched up a rolling-pin——’twas ten to one, she had +laugh’d——</p> + +<p>She laid it down——she cried; and had one single tear of +’em but tasted of bitterness, full sorrowful would the corporal’s +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page473" id = "page473">473</a></span> +heart have been that he had used the argument; but the corporal +understood the sex, a <i>quart major to a terce</i> at least, +better than my uncle <i>Toby</i>, and accordingly he assailed Mrs. +<i>Bridget</i> after this manner.</p> + +<p>I know, Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, said the corporal, giving her a most +respectful kiss, that thou art good and modest by nature, and art withal +so generous a girl in thyself, that, if I know thee rightly, thou +would’st not wound an insect, much less the honour of so gallant and +worthy a soul as my master, wast thou sure to be made a countess +of——but thou hast been set on, and deluded, dear +<i>Bridget</i>, as is often a woman’s case, “to please others more than +themselves——”</p> + +<p><i>Bridget’s</i> eyes poured down at the sensations the corporal +excited.</p> + +<p>——Tell me——tell me, then, my dear +<i>Bridget</i>, continued the corporal, taking hold of her hand, which +hung down dead by her side,——and, giving a second +kiss——whose suspicion has misled thee?</p> + +<p><i>Bridget</i> sobb’d a sob or two——then open’d her +eyes——the corporal wiped ’em with the bottom of her +apron——she then open’d her heart and told him all.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXX" id = "bookIX_chapXXX"> +CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">My</span> uncle <i>Toby</i> and the +corporal had gone on separately with their operations the greatest part +of the campaign, and as effectually cut off from all communication of +what either the one or the other had been doing, as if they had been +separated from each other by the <i>Maes</i> or the <i>Sambre</i>.</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i>, on his side, had presented himself every +afternoon in his red and silver, and blue and gold alternately, and +sustained an infinity of attacks in them, without knowing them to be +attacks—and so had nothing to <span class = +"locked">communicate——</span></p> + +<p>The corporal, on his side, in taking <i>Bridget</i>, by it had gain’d +considerable advantages——and consequently had much to +communicate——but what were the advantages——as +well as what was the manner by which he had seiz’d them, required so +nice an historian, that the corporal durst not venture upon it; and as +sensible as he was of glory, would rather have been contented to have +gone bareheaded and without laurels for ever, than torture his master’s +modesty for a single <span class = +"locked">moment——</span></p> + +<p>——Best of honest and gallant servants!——But I +have +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page474" id = "page474">474</a></span> +apostrophiz’d thee, <i>Trim!</i> once before——and could I +apotheosize thee also (that is to say) with good +company——I would do it <i>without ceremony</i> in the +very next page.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXXI" id = "bookIX_chapXXXI"> +CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">Now</span> my uncle <i>Toby</i> had one +evening laid down his pipe upon the table, and was counting over to +himself upon his finger ends (beginning at his thumb) all Mrs. +<i>Wadman’s</i> perfections one by one; and happening two or three times +together, either by omitting some, or counting others twice over, to +puzzle himself sadly before he could get beyond his middle +finger——Prithee, <i>Trim!</i> said he, taking up his pipe +again,——bring me a pen and ink: <i>Trim</i> brought paper +also.</p> + +<p>Take a full sheet——<i>Trim!</i> said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, making a sign with his pipe at the same time to take a +chair and sit down close by him at the table. The corporal +obeyed——placed the paper directly before +him——took a pen, and dipp’d it in the ink.</p> + +<p>—She has a thousand virtues, <i>Trim!</i> said my uncle +<i>Toby</i>——</p> + +<p>Am I to set them down, an’ please your honour? quoth the +corporal.</p> + +<p>——But they must be taken in their ranks, replied my uncle +<i>Toby</i>; for of them all, <i>Trim</i>, that which wins me most, and +which is a security for all the rest, is the compassionate turn and +singular humanity of her character—I protest, added my uncle +<i>Toby</i>, looking up, as he protested it, towards the top of the <ins +class = "correction" +title = "text reads ‘cieling’ [word occurs elsewhere]">ceiling</ins>——That was I her brother, +<i>Trim</i>, a thousand fold, she could not make more constant or +more tender enquiries after my sufferings——though now no +more.</p> + +<p>The corporal made no reply to my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> protestation, +but by a short cough—he dipp’d the pen a second time into the +inkhorn; and my uncle <i>Toby</i>, pointing with the end of his pipe as +close to the top of the sheet at the left hand corner of it, as he could +get it——the corporal wrote down the word HUMANITY +- - - - thus.</p> + +<p>Prithee, corporal, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, as soon as <i>Trim</i> +had done it———how often does Mrs. <i>Bridget</i> +enquire after the wound on the cap of thy knee, which thou received’st +at the battle of <i>Landen?</i></p> + +<p>She never, an’ please your honour, enquires after it at all.</p> + +<p>That, corporal, said my uncle <i>Toby</i>, with all the triumph the +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page475" id = "page475">475</a></span> +goodness of his nature would permit——That shews the +difference in the character of the mistress and maid——had +the fortune of war allotted the same mischance to me, Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> +would have enquired into every circumstance relating to it a hundred +times——She would have enquired, an’ please your honour, ten +times as often about your honour’s groin——The pain, +<i>Trim</i>, is equally excruciating,——and Compassion has as +much to do with the one as the <span class = +"locked">other——</span></p> + +<p>——God bless your honour! cried the +corporal——what has a woman’s compassion to do with a wound +upon the cap of a man’s knee? had your honour’s been shot into ten +thousand splinters at the affair of <i>Landen</i>, Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> +would have troubled her head as little about it as <i>Bridget</i>; +because, added the corporal, lowering his voice, and speaking very +distinctly, as he assigned his <span class = +"locked">reason——</span></p> + +<p>“The knee is such a distance from the main body——whereas +the groin, your honour knows, is upon the very <i>curtain</i> of the +<i>place</i>.”</p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> gave a long whistle——but in a note +which could scarce be heard across the table.</p> + +<p>The corporal had advanced too far to retire——in three +words he told the <span class = "locked">rest——</span></p> + +<p>My uncle <i>Toby</i> laid down his pipe as gently upon the fender, as +if it had been spun from the unravellings of a spider’s <span class = +"locked">web——</span></p> + +<p>———Let us go to my brother <i>Shandy’s</i>, said +he.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXXII" id = "bookIX_chapXXXII"> +CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + + +<p><span class = "firstword">There</span> will be just time, whilst my +uncle <i>Toby</i> and <i>Trim</i> are walking to my father’s, to inform +you that Mrs. <i>Wadman</i> had, some moons before this, made a +confident of my mother; and that Mrs. <i>Bridget</i>, who had the burden +of her own, as well as her mistress’s secret to carry, had got happily +delivered of both to <i>Susannah</i> behind the garden-wall.</p> + +<p>As for my mother, she saw nothing at all in it, to make the least +bustle about——but <i>Susannah</i> was sufficient by herself +for all the ends and purposes you could possibly have, in exporting a +family secret; for she instantly imparted it by signs to +<i>Jonathan</i>——and <i>Jonathan</i> by tokens to the cook +as she was basting a loin of mutton; the cook sold it with some +kitchen-fat to the postillion for a groat, who truck’d it with the dairy +maid for something of about the same value——and though +whisper’d +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page476" id = "page476">476</a></span> +in the hay-loft, <span class = "smallcaps">Fame</span> caught the notes +with her brazen trumpet, and sounded them upon the house-top—In a +word, not an old woman in the village or five miles round, who did not +understand the difficulties of my uncle <i>Toby’s</i> siege, and what +were the secret articles which had delayed the <span class = +"locked">surrender.——</span></p> + +<p>My father, whose way was to force every event in nature into an +hypothesis, by which means never man crucified <span class = +"smallcaps">Truth</span> at the rate he did——had but just +heard of the report as my uncle <i>Toby</i> set out; and catching fire +suddenly at the trespass done his brother by it, was demonstrating to +<i>Yorick</i>, notwithstanding my mother was sitting by——not +only, “That the devil was in women, and that the whole of the affair was +lust;” but that every evil and disorder in the world, of what kind or +nature soever, from the first fall of <i>Adam</i>, down to my uncle +<i>Toby’s</i> (inclusive), was owing one way or other to the same unruly +appetite.</p> + +<p><i>Yorick</i> was just bringing my father’s hypothesis to some +temper, when my uncle <i>Toby</i> entering the room with marks of +infinite benevolence and forgiveness in his looks, my father’s eloquence +rekindled against the passion——and as he was not very nice +in the choice of his words when he was wroth——as soon as my +uncle <i>Toby</i> was seated by the fire, and had filled his pipe, my +father broke out in this manner.</p> + + + + +<h4><a name = "bookIX_chapXXXIII" id = "bookIX_chapXXXIII"> +CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + + +<p>——<span class = "firstword">That</span> provision should +be made for continuing the race of so great, so exalted and godlike a +Being as man—I am far from denying—but philosophy +speaks freely of everything; and therefore I still think and do maintain +it to be a pity, that it should be done by means of a passion which +bends down the faculties, and turns all the wisdom, contemplations, and +operations of the soul backwards——a passion, my dear, +continued my father, addressing himself to my mother, which couples and +equals wise men with fools, and makes us come out of our caverns and +hiding-places more like satyrs and four-footed beasts than men.</p> + +<p>I know it will be said, continued my father (availing himself of the +<i>Prolepsis</i>), that in itself, and simply taken——like +hunger, or thirst, or sleep——’tis an affair neither good or +bad—or shameful or otherwise.——Why then did the +delicacy of <i>Diogenes</i> and <i>Plato</i> so recalcitrate against it? +and wherefore, when we go +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page477" id = "page477">477</a></span> +about to make and plant a man, do we put out the candle? and for what +reason is it, that all the parts thereof—the +congredients—the preparations—the instruments, and whatever +serves thereto, are so held as to be conveyed to a cleanly mind by no +language, translation, or periphrasis whatever?</p> + +<p>——The act of killing and destroying a man, continued my +father, raising his voice—and turning to my uncle +<i>Toby</i>—you see, is glorious—and the weapons by which we +do it are honourable——We march with them upon our +shoulders——We strut with them by our sides——We +gild them——We carve them——We in-lay +them——We enrich them——Nay, if it be but a +<i>scoundrel</i> cannon, we cast an ornament upon the breach of <span +class = "locked">it.—</span></p> + +<p>——My uncle <i>Toby</i> laid down his pipe to intercede +for a better epithet——and <i>Yorick</i> was rising up to +batter the whole hypothesis to <span class = +"locked">pieces——</span></p> + +<p>——When <i>Obadiah</i> broke into the middle of the room +with a complaint, which cried out for an immediate hearing.</p> + +<p>The case was this:</p> + +<p>My father, whether by ancient custom of the manor, or as impropriator +of the great tythes, was obliged to keep a Bull for the service of the +Parish, and <i>Obadiah</i> had led his cow upon a <i>pop-visit</i> to +him one day or other the preceding summer——I say, one +day or other—because as chance would have it, it was the day on +which he was married to my father’s housemaid——so one was a +reckoning to the other. Therefore when <i>Obadiah’s</i> wife was brought +to bed—<i>Obadiah</i> thanked <span class = +"locked">God——</span></p> + +<p>——Now, said <i>Obadiah</i>, I shall have a calf: so +<i>Obadiah</i> went daily to visit his cow.</p> + +<p>She’ll calve on <i>Monday</i>—on <i>Tuesday</i>—on +<i>Wednesday</i> at the <span class = +"locked">farthest——</span></p> + +<p>The cow did not calve——no—she’ll not calve till +next week——the cow put it off terribly——till at +the end of the sixth week <i>Obadiah’s</i> suspicions (like a good +man’s) fell upon the Bull.</p> + +<p>Now the parish being very large, my father’s Bull, to speak the truth +of him, was no way equal to the department; he had, however, got +himself, somehow or other, thrust into employment—and as he went +through the business with a grave face, my father had a high opinion of +him.</p> + +<p>——Most of the townsmen, an’ please your worship, quoth +<i>Obadiah</i>, believe that ’tis all the Bull’s <span class = +"locked">fault——</span></p> + +<p>——But may not a cow be barren? replied my father, turning +to Doctor <i>Slop</i>.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum"> +<a name = "page478" id = "page478">478</a></span> +<p>It never happens: said Dr. <i>Slop</i>, but the man’s wife may have +come before her time naturally enough——Prithee has the child +hair upon his head?—added Dr. <span class = +"locked"><i>Slop</i>———</span></p> + +<p>——It is as hairy as I am; said +<i>Obadiah</i>.——<i>Obadiah</i> had not been shaved for +three weeks——Wheu - - u - - - - u +- - - - - - - - cried my father; +beginning the sentence with an exclamatory whistle——and so, +brother <i>Toby</i>, this poor Bull of mine, who is as good a Bull as +ever p—ss’d, and might have done for <i>Europa</i> herself in +purer times——had he but two legs less, might have been +driven into Doctors Commons and lost his character——which to +a Town Bull, brother <i>Toby</i>, is the very same thing as his <span +class = "locked">life———</span></p> + +<p>L—d! said my mother, what is all this story +about?——</p> + +<p>A <span class = "smallroman">COCK</span> and a <span class = +"smallroman">BULL</span>, said <i>Yorick</i>——And one of the +best of its kind, I ever heard.</p> + +<div class = "footnote"> + +<p><a name = "note_9_1" id = "note_9_1" href = "#tag_9_1">1.</a> +He lost his hand at the battle of <i>Lepanto</i>.</p> + +<p><a name = "note_9_2" id = "note_9_2" href = "#tag_9_2">2.</a> +This must be a mistake in Mr. <i>Shandy</i>; for <i>Graaf</i> wrote upon +the pancreatick juice, and the parts of generation.</p> + +</div> + +<div class = "page"> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pg478.png" width = "94" height = "112" +alt = "The Temple Press LETCHWORTH ENGLAND" +title = "The Temple Press LETCHWORTH ENGLAND" /></p> + +</div> + + +<div class = "endnote"> + +<h4><a name = "endnote" id = "endnote">Detailed Contents</a><br /> +<span class = "smaller">(added by transcriber)</span></h4> + +<table class = "detail" summary = "detailed contents"> +<tr class = "small"> +<td>Book</td> +<td></td> +<td class = "number">Page</td> +</tr> +<tr class = "book"> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#intro">Introduction</a> (1912)</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#intro_vii">vii</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#biblio">Bibliography</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#intro_xxvi">xxvi</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#text">Note on Text</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#intro_xxvii">xxvii</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>I</td> +<td><a href = "#titlepage">Title Page</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page1">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#dedic_pitt">Dedication</a> “to Mr. Pitt”</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page2">2</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookI">main text begins</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page3">3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookI_baptism">baptism before birth</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page44">44</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>II</td> +<td><a href = "#bookII">Book II</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page59">59</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookII_sermon">The Sermon</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page89">89</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>III</td> +<td><a href = "#bookIII">Book III</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page113">113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><p><a href = "#bookIII_excomm">Excommunicatio</a><br /> +(Latin and English on facing pages)</p></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page122">122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><p><a href = "#bookIII_preface">The Author’s Preface</a><br /> +(between chaps. XX and XXI)</p></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page138">138</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>IV</td> +<td><a href = "#bookIV">Book IV</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page176">176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><p><a href = "#bookIV_slawkenberg">Slawkenbergii Fabella</a><br /> +(Latin and English on facing pages)</p></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page176">176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIV_lament">My Father’s Lamentation</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page214">214</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>V</td> +<td><a href = "#bookV_title">Book V Title Page</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page249">249</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookV_dedic">Dedication</a> to Viscount Spencer</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page250">250</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookV">main text begins</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page251">251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookV_whiskers">Upon Whiskers</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page252">252</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>VI</td> +<td><a href = "#bookVI">Book VI</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page300">300</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookVI_lefever">The Story of Le Fever</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page305">305</a>-<a href = +"#page312">312</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookVI_apology">My Uncle Toby’s Apologetical +Oration</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page337">337</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>VII</td> +<td><a href = "#bookVII">Book VII</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page349">349</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>VIII</td> +<td><a href = "#bookVIII">Book VIII</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page395">395</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookVIII_bohemia">The Story of the King of Bohemia and +His Seven Castles</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page411">411</a>-<a href = +"#page416">416</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr class = "book"> +<td>IX</td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_title">Book IX Title Page</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page439">439</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_dedic">Dedication</a> “to a Great Man”</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page440">440</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX">main text begins</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page441">441</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_chapXVIII">Chapter XVIII</a> (header)</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page458">458</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_chapXIX">Chapter XIX</a> (header)</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page459">459</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_invoc">The Invocation</a></td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page464">464</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_chapXVIIIb">The Eighteenth Chapter</a> +(content)</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page467">467</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td><a href = "#bookIX_chapXIXb">The Nineteenth Chapter</a> +(content)</td> +<td class = "number"><a href = "#page469">469</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<h4><a name = "hyphens" id = "hyphens">Hyphens and Spaces</a></h4> + +<p>Inconsistent hyphenization or spacing has not been regularized. Words +found only at line break were handled on a “best guess” basis.</p> + +<div class = "hanging"> +<p>anywhere and any where:<br /> +both forms occur</p> + +<p>beforehand and before-hand:<br /> +both forms occur at mid-line</p> + +<p>hornworks and horn-works<br /> +both forms occur at mid-line; line-end occurrences have hyphen</p> + +<p>christian (Christian) name and christian-name:<br /> +both forms occur more than once; the inconsistent capitalization of +“Christian” or “christian” is unchanged.</p> + +<p>be-virtu’d:<br /> +the only occurrence of this word is at line-break</p> + +<p>shall not be opened again this twelve-/month:<br /> +all other occurrences of this word are at mid-line: the three preceding +have a hyphen; the one following does not</p> +</div> + +</div> + +</div> +<!-- end div maintext --> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Life and Opinions of Tristram +Shandy, Gentleman, by Laurence Sterne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRISTRAM SHANDY *** + +***** This file should be named 39270-h.htm or 39270-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/2/7/39270/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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