
                                Laurence Sterne

                            The Life and Opinions of

                           Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

 Tarassei tosA Antropos o ta Pragmata,
 alla ta peri ton Pragmaton, Dogmata.
 
                        To the Right Honourable Mr. Pitt
 
Sir,
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
retired 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, that
it adds something to this Fragment of Life.
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 ever
read or heard of.
I am, great Sir,
(and what is more to your Honour,)
I am, good Sir,
                               Your Well-wisher,
                                                 and most humble Fellow-Subject,
                                                                     The Author.
 

                                   Volume I.

                                    Chap. I.

I wish 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 concern'd 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, etc. etc. - 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 tracks 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.
    Pray, my dear, quoth my mother, have you not forgot to wind up the clock? --
Good G -! cried my father, making an exclamation, but taking care to moderate
his voice at the same time, -- Did ever woman, since the creation of the world,
interrupt a man with such a silly question? Pray, what was your father saying?
-- Nothing.
 

                                   Chap. II.

- 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 HOMUNCULUS, and
conducted him safe to the place destined for his reception.
    The HOMUNCULUS, Sir, in how-ever 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 BEING guarded and circumscribed
with rights: -- The minutest philosophers, who, by the bye, have the most
enlarged understandings, (their souls being inversely as their enquiries) show
us incontestably, That the HOMUNCULUS is created by the same hand, - engender'd
in the same course of nature, - endowed with the same loco-motive 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 England. - 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 Tully,
Puffendorff, or the best ethick writers allow to arise out of that state and
relation.
    Now, dear Sir, what if any accident had befallen him in his way alone? --or
that, thro' 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 disorder'd state of nerves, he had laid down
a prey to sudden starts, or a series of melancholy dreams and fancies for nine
long, long months together. -- I 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.
 

                                   Chap. III.

To my uncle Mr. Toby Shandy 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, complain'd of
the injury; but once more particularly, as my uncle Toby 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: -- But alas! continued
he, shaking his head a second time, and wiping away a tear which was trickling
down his cheeks, My Tristram's misfortunes began nine months before ever he came
into the world.
    -- 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. Toby Shandy, who had been
often informed of the affair, - understood him very well.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

I know 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 every thing which concerns you.
    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 conjecture right, will take in all ranks, professions, and
denominations of men whatever, - be no less read than the Pilgrim's Progress
itself - and, in the end, prove the very thing which Montaigne 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 further 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 every thing in it, as Horace says, ab Ovo.
    Horace, 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. Horace's 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.
    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.
 
                    ------------ Shut the door. ------------
 
I was begot in the night, betwixt the first Sunday and the first Monday in the
month of March, 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 public for the better clearing up
this point.
    My father, you must know, who was originally a Turky 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 every
thing 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 Sunday night of every month throughout the whole year, - as certain as
ever the Sunday night came, -- to wind up a large house-clock which we had
standing upon 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 Toby, to get them all out of
the way at one time, and be no more plagued and pester'd with them the rest of
the month.
    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 popp'd into
her head, - &amp; vice versâ: - which strange combination of ideas, the
sagacious Locke, 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.
    But this by the bye.
    Now it appears, by a memorandum in my father's pocket-book, which now lies
upon the table, »That on Lady-Day, which was on the 25th of the same month in
which I date my geniture, - my father set out upon his journey to London with my
eldest brother Bobby, to fix him at Westminster school;« and, as it appears from
the same authority, »That he did not get down to his wife and family till the
second week in May 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.
    -- But pray, Sir, What was your father doing all December, - January, and
February? -- Why, Madam, - he was all that time afflicted with a Sciatica.
 

                                    Chap. V.

On the fifth day of November, 1718, which to the æra fixed on, was as near nine
kalendar months as any husband could in reason have expected, -was I Tristram
Shandy, 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 Jupiter
or Saturn, because I never could bear cold weather) for it could not well have
fared worse with me in any of them (tho' I will not answer for Venus) 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, 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 public
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 Flanders; - 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 HERO sustained.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

In the beginning of the last chapter, I inform'd you exactly when I was born; -
but I did not inform you, how. No; 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 further 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. -- O diem præclarum! -- 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 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 any thing, - only keep your
temper.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

In 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 world, 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 English miles diameter, or
there-abouts, 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 withall an object of compassion, whose distress and silence
under it call'd out the louder for a friendly lift: the wife of the parson of
the parish was touch'd 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 said seven 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 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 cheerfully paid the fees for the ordinary's
licence himself, amounting, in the whole, to the sum of eighteen shillings and
fourpence; so that, betwixt them both, the good woman was fully invested in the
real and corporal possession of her office, together with all its rights,
members, and appurtenances whatsoever.
    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
Formula of Didius 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 coax'd many of the old licensed matrons
in the neighbourhood, to open their faculties afresh, in order to have this
whim-wham of his inserted.
    I own I never could envy Didius in these kinds of fancies of his: - But
every man to his own taste. - Did not Dr. Kunastrokius, 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 Solomon himself, - have they not had their HOBBY-HORSES; -
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 HOBBY-HORSE 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?
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

- De gustibus non est disputandum; - that is, there is no disputing against
HOBBY-HORSES; 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 fiddler 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 knows it) I frequently ride out and take the
air; - tho' 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, tuck'd up to their very chins, with whips
across their mouths, scouring and scampering it away like so many little
party-colour'd 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 any 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.
    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 HOBBY-HORSE, with all his
fraternity, at the Devil.
 
        My Lord,
            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 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,
                                    My Lord,
                         Your Lordship's most obedient,
                               and most devoted,
                            and most humble servant,
                                                                TRISTRAM SHANDY.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

I solemnly 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 hawk'd 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.
    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.
    -- 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.
    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.
    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 out-lines will turn out as 12, - the composition 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 design, 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
HOBBY-HORSE, (which is a secondary figure, and a kind of background 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 tout
ensemble.
    Be pleased, my good Lord, to order the sum to be paid into the hands of Mr.
Dodsley, 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, De gustibus non est disputandum, and whatever else in
this book relates to HOBBY-HORSES, but no more, shall stand dedicated to your
Lordship. - The rest I dedicate to the MOON, who, by the bye, of all the PATRONS
or MATRONS I can think of, has most power to set my book a-going, and make the
world run mad after it.
 
        Bright Goddess,
    If thou art not too busy with CANDID and MISS CUNEGUND'S affairs, - take
Tristram Shandy's under thy protection also.
 

                                    Chap. X.

Whatever 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, tho'
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.
    The world at that time was pleased to determine the matter otherwise.
    Lay down the book, and I will allow you half a day to give a probable guess
at the grounds of this procedure.
    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 Rosinante, 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 Rosinante was broken winded; and that, moveover, Rosinante, as is the
happiness of most Spanish horses, fat or lean, - was undoubtedly a horse at all
points.
    I know very well that the HERO'S horse was a horse of chaste deportment,
which may have given grounds for a contrary opinion: But it is certain at the
same time, that Rosinante's continency (as may be demonstrated from the
adventure of the Yanguesian 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.
    Let that be as it may, as my purpose is to do exact justice to every
creature brought upon the stage of this dramatic work, - I could not stifle this
distinction in favour of Don Quixote's 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 HUMILITY herself could have bestrided.
    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 noble 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,
poudré d'or, - 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 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.
    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.
    At different times he would give fifty humorous and opposite 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 de vanitate mundi et fugâ sæculi, 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 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
withheld the true one, only out of a nicety of temper, because he thought it did
honour to him.
    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 extream. - 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.
    What the loss in such a balance might amount to, communibus annis, I would
leave to a special jury of sufferers in the same traffic, 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 disproportion'd to his other
expenses, but withall 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 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.
    For these reasons he resolved to discontinue the expense; 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.
    As he dreaded his own constancy in the first, -- he very cheerfully betook
himself to the second; and tho' he could very well have explain'd 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 panegyric upon
himself.
    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 La Mancha,
whom, by the bye, with all his follies, I love more, and would actually have
gone further to have paid a visit to, than the greatest hero of antiquity.
    But this is not the moral of my story: The thing I had in view was to show
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 expenses 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 expense 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.«
    What were his views in this, and in every other action of his 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.
    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.
    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.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

Yorick 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 and confound us all together, 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.«
    This evil had been sufficiently fenced against by the prudent care of the
Yorick's family, and their religious preservation of these records I quote,
which do further inform us, That the family was originally of Danish extraction,
and had been transplanted into England as early as in the reign of Horwendillus,
king of Denmark, in whose court it seems, an ancestor of this Mr. Yorick's, 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.
    It has often come into my head, that this post could be no other than that
of the king's chief Jester; - and that Hamlet's Yorick, in our Shakespeare, many
of whose plays, you know, are founded upon authenticated facts, - was certainly
the very man.
    I have not the time to look into Saxo-Grammaticus's Danish 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.
    I had just time, in my travels through Denmark with Mr. Noddy's eldest son,
whom, in the year 1741, I accompanied as governor, riding along with him at a
prodigious rate thro' most parts of Europe, and of which original journey
perform'd 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 refin'd parts; but a
great deal of good plain household understanding amongst all ranks of people, of
which every body has a share;« which is, I think, very right.
    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 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.
    This is all that ever stagger'd my faith in regard to Yorick's extraction,
who, by what I can remember of him, and by all the accounts I could ever get of
him, seem'd not to have had one single drop of Danish 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 look'd 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 gaité de coeur about
him, as the kindliest climate could have engendered and put together. With all
this sail, poor Yorick 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 some body'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
Fracas: - For, to speak the truth, Yorick 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 and 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.
    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 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 French wit had long ago defined it, - viz. A mysterious
carriage of the body to cover the defects of the mind; - which definition of
gravity, Yorick, with great imprudence, would say, deserved to be wrote in
letters of gold.
    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. Yorick 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 English without any periphrasis, -- and too
oft without much distinction of either personage, 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 bon
mot, or to be enliven'd throughout with some drollery or humour of expression,
it gave wings to Yorick's indiscretion. In a word, tho' he never sought, yet, at
the same time, as he seldom shun'd 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.
    What were the consequences, and what was Yorick's catastrophe thereupon, you
will read in the next chapter.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

The Mortgager and Mortgagée differ the one from the other, not more in length of
purse, than the Jester and Jestée 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 Homer's can
pretend to; -- namely, That the one raises a sum and the other a laugh at your
expense, and think no more about it. Interest, however, still runs on in both
cases; - the periodical or accidental 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.
    As the reader (for I hate your ifs) has a thorough knowledge of human
nature, I need not say more to satisfy him, that my Hero 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 Eugenius's 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.
    Eugenius 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 Yorick, 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 arm chairs, and could not so
readily fly off in a tangent, - Eugenius would then go on with his lecture upon
discretion, in words to this purpose, though somewhat better put together.
    Trust me, dear Yorick, 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 laugh'd
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 arithmetic to say, that for every ten jokes, -
thou hast got a hundred enemies; and till thou hast gone on, and raised a swarm
of wasps about thy ears, and art half stung to death by them, thou wilt never be
convinced it is so.
    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 sportive: - But consider, my dear lad, that fools
cannot distinguish this, - and that knaves will not; and thou knows 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.
    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, CRUELTY and COWARDICE, twin ruffians, hired and set on by MALICE 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, 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
enew from any thicket where it has strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with.
    Yorick scarce ever heard this sad vaticination of his destiny read over to
him, but with a tear 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 form'd before the first prediction of it. - The whole plan
of the attack, just as Eugenius had foreboded, was put in execution all at once,
- with so little mercy on the side of the allies, - and so little suspicion in
Yorick, 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.
    Yorick, however, fought it out with all imaginable gallantry for some time;
till over-power'd 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.
    What inclined Eugenius to the same opinion, was as follows:
    A few hours before Yorick breath'd his last, Eugenius stepped in with an
intent to take his last sight and last farewell of him: Upon his drawing
Yorick's curtain, and asking how he felt himself, Yorick, 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
Eugenius, with tears trickling down his cheeks, and with the tenderest tone that
ever man spoke, - I hope not, Yorick, said he. - Yorick replied, with a look up,
and a gentle squeeze of Eugenius's hand, and that was all, - but it cut Eugenius
to his heart. - Come, - come, Yorick, quoth Eugenius, 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? -- Yorick laid his hand upon his heart, and gently shook his head; - for
my part, continued Eugenius, crying bitterly as he uttered the words, - I
declare I know not, Yorick, how to part with thee, -- and would gladly flatter
my hopes, added Eugenius, 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,
Eugenius, quoth Yorick, taking off his night-cap as well as he could with his
left hand, -- his right being still grasped closed in that of Eugenius, -- I
beseech thee to take a view of my head. - I see nothing that ails it, replied
Eugenius. Then, alas! my friend, said Yorick, let me tell you, that 'tis so
bruised and mis-shapen'd with the blows which * * * * * and * * * * *, and some
others have so unhandsomely given me in the dark, that I might say with Sancho
Pança, that should I recover, and »Mitres thereupon be suffer'd to rain down
from heaven as thick as hail, not one of 'em would fit it.« -- Yorick's last
breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered this; -
yet still it was utter'd with something of a Cervantick tone; - and as he spoke
it, Eugenius 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 Shakespeare
said of his ancestor) were wont to set the table in a roar!
    Eugenius was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend was broke; he
squeez'd his hand, -- and then walk'd softly out of the room, weeping as he
walk'd. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door, - he then closed
them, - and never opened them more.
    He lies buried in a corner of his church-yard, in the parish of --, under a
plain marble slabb, which his friend Eugenius, 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.
 
                               Alas, poor Yorick!
 
Ten times in a day has Yorick's 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 church-yard 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,
 
                               Alas, poor Yorick!
 
[Two black pages following.]
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

It 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 mean time; - because when she is wanted we can no way do without her.
    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 world, -- 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.
    In the present case, if I remember, I fixed it at 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 developments to 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 inuendos 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
world; - which, betwixt you and me, and in spite of all the gentlemen reviewers
in Great-Britain, 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.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

Upon looking into my mother's marriage settlement, in order to satisfy myself
and reader in a point necessary to be clear'd up, before we could proceed any
further 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 straightforwards, - it might have
taken me up a month; - which shows plainly, that when a man sits down to write a
history, - tho' it be but the history of Jack Hickathrift or Tom Thumb, he knows
no more than his heels what lets and confounded hinderances 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 Rome all the way to
Loretto, 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
    Accounts to reconcile:
    Anecdotes to pick up:
    Inscriptions to make out:
    Stories to weave in:
    Traditions to sift:
    Personages to call upon:
    Panegyricks to paste up at this door:
    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
my own part, I declare I have 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 when it happen'd, but not how; - so that you see the thing is yet
far from being accomplished.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

The 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.
    And this Indenture further witnesseth, That the said Walter Shandy,
merchant, in consideration of the said intended marriage to be had, and, by
God's blessing, to be well and truly solemnized and consummated between the said
Walter Shandy and Elizabeth Mollineux 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
John Dixon, and James Turner, Esqrs. the above-named trustees, etc. etc. - to
wit, - That in case it should hereafter so fall out, chance, happen, or
otherwise come to pass, - That the said Walter Shandy, merchant, shall have left
off business before the time or times, that the said Elizabeth Mollineux shall,
according to the course of nature, or otherwise, have left off bearing and
bringing forth children; - and that, in consequence of the said Walter Shandy
having so left off business, shall, in despight, and against the free-will,
consent, and good-liking of the said Elizabeth Mollineux, - make a departure
from the city of London, in order to retire to, and dwell upon, his estate at
Shandy-Hall, in the county of --, or at any other country-seat, castle, hall,
mansion-house, messuage or grainge-house, now purchased, or hereafter to be
purchased, or upon any part or parcel thereof: - That then, and as often as the
said Elizabeth Mollineux shall happen to be enceint with child or children
severally and lawfully begot, or to be begotten, upon the body of the said
Elizabeth Mollineux during her said coverture, - he the said Walter Shandy
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 Elizabeth Mollineux's 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 John Dixon and James Turner, Esqrs. or
assigns, - upon TRUST and confidence, and for and unto the use and uses, intent,
end, and purpose following: - That is to say, - That the said sum of one hundred
and twenty pounds shall be paid into the hands of the said Elizabeth Mollineux,
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 Elizabeth Mollineux and the child or children which she shall
be then and there enceint and pregnant with, - unto the city of London; and for
the further paying and defraying of all other incidental costs, charges, and
expenses 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
Elizabeth Mollineux shall and may, from time to time, and at all such time and
times as are here convenanted 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, hinderance, forfeiture, eviction, vexation,
interruption, or incumberance whatsoever. - And that it shall moreover be lawful
to and for the said Elizabeth Mollineux, 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 London, as she, at her own will and
pleasure, notwithstanding her present coverture, and as if she was a femme sole
and unmarried, - shall think fit. - And this Indenture further witnesseth, That
for the more effectually carrying of the said covenant into execution, the said
Walter Shandy, merchant, doth hereby grant, bargain, sell, release, and confirm
unto the said John Dixon, and James Turner, 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 John Dixon and James Turner, Esqrs.
by him the said Walter Shandy, 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, --
All that the manor and lordship of Shandy 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, knights fees, views of
frank-pledge, 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 seignories, rights and jurisdictions, privileges and
hereditaments whatsoever. -- And also the advowson, donation, presentation and
free disposition of the rectory or parsonage of Shandy aforesaid, and all and
every the tenths, tythes, glebe-lands« -- In three words, -- »My mother was to
lay in, (if she chose it) in London.«
    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 Toby
Shandy; - 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 expense of a London 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, toties quoties, 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.
    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 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 September 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.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

My father, as any body 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 tease himself, and indeed my
mother too, about the cursed expense, which he said might every shilling of it
have been saved; - then what vexed him more than every thing else was the
provoking time of the year, -- which, as I told you, was towards the end of
September, 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 London, upon
a Tom Fool's errand in any other month of the whole year, he should not have
said three words about it.«
    For the next two whole stages, no subject would go down, but the heavy blow
he has 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 Bobby 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.«
    From Stilton, all the way to Grantham, 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 Sunday; -- 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 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.
    From Grantham, till they had cross'd the Trent, 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. - 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
weakness 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.
    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 Toby, he would have tired out
the patience of any flesh alive.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

Though 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 Toby's 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; which was to lye-in of her next child in the country to
balance the last year's journey.
    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.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

As the point was that night agreed, or rather determin'd, 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 there-abouts, 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. Maningham was not to be
had, she had come to a final determination in her mind, -- notwithstanding there
was a scientifick 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 foetus 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 March 9, 1759, -- that my dear, dear Jenny, observing I look'd 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 ten-pence a yard. -
'Tis the duplication of one and the same greatness of soul; only what lessen'd
the honour of it somewhat, in my mother's case, was, that she could not heroine
it into so violent and hazardous an extream, as one in her situation might have
wish'd, because the old midwife 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.
    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
concern'd 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 Shandy-Hall. -- 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. Shandy, poor gentlewoman! had but her
wish in going up to town just to lye-in and come down again; - which, they say,
she begg'd and pray'd for upon her bare knees, -- and which, in my opinion,
considering the fortune which Mr. Shandy got with her, - was no such mighty
matter to have complied with, the lady and her babe might both of 'em have been
alive at this hour.«
    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
concern'd in it for the public good, from the dread he entertained of the bad
uses an ill-fated instance might be put to.
    He was very sensible that all political writers upon the subject had
unanimously agreed and lamented, from the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's 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; - tho', by the bye, -- a current was not the
image he took most delight in, - a distemper 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 blood
and spirits were driven up into the head faster than they could find their ways
down; -- a stoppage of circulation must ensue, which was death in both cases.
    There was little danger, he would say, of losing our liberties by French
politicks or French 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, The Lord have mercy upon us all.
    My father was never able to give the history of this distemper, - without
the remedy along with it.
    »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, farmers sons, etc. etc. 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 extreams, now wasted and pin'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 cheer 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.
    Why are there so few palaces and gentlemen's seats,« he would ask, with some
emotion, as he walked a-cross the room, »throughout so many delicious provinces
in France? Whence is it that the few remaining Chateaus 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 any where in
it, is concentrated in the court, and the looks of the Grand Monarch; by the
sun-shine of whose countenance, or the clouds which pass a-cross it, every
French man lives or dies.«
    Another political reason which prompted my father so strongly 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.
    In this point he was entirely of Sir Robert Filmer's 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 any thing, that he saw, but sorrow and
confusion.
    For all these reasons, private and public, put together, - my father was
for having the man-midwife by all means, - my mother by no means. My father
begg'd and entreated, 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
every thing 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 chagrine 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 Te Deum. 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 Toby Shandy in the back parlour, - for which he was to be paid five
guineas.
    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 I have dropp'd in it, -- »That I am
a married man.« - I own the tender appellation of my dear, dear Jenny, - 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 Jenny is my kept mistress; - no, - that would be flattering my
character in the other extream, 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
Jenny! tender as the appellation is, may be my child. - Consider, - I was born
in the year eighteen. - Nor is there any thing unnatural or extravagant in the
supposition, that my dear Jenny may be my friend. -- Friend! - My friend. -
Surely, Madam, a friendship between the two sexes may subsist, and be supported
without -- Fy! Mr. Shandy: - Without any thing, Madam, but that tender and
delicious sentiment, which ever mixes in friendship, where there is a difference
of sex. Let me entreat you to study the pure and sentimental parts of the best
French Romances; -- it will really, Madam, astonish you to see with what a
variety of chaste expression this delicious sentiment, which I have the honour
to speak of, is dress'd out.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

I would 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, 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.
    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 impress'd upon
our characters and conduct.
    The Hero of Cervantes 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 DULCINEA'S name, in shedding lustre upon them, than my father had
on those of TRISMEGISTUS or ARCHIMEDES, on the one hand, - or of NYKY and SIMKIN
on the other. How many CÆSARS and POMPEYS, he would say, by mere inspiration of
the names, have been render'd 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 depress'd and NICODEMUS'D into nothing.
    I see plainly, Sir, by your looks, (or as the case happen'd) 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
further 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 BILLY, Sir! - would you, for
the world, have called him JUDAS? - Would you, my dear Sir, he would say, laying
his hand upon your breast, with the genteelest address, - and in that soft and
irresistible piano of voice, which the nature of the argumentum ad hominem
absolutely requires, - Would you, Sir, if a Jew 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 upon the offer; - you would have thrown the temptation at the tempter's
head with abhorrence.
    Your greatness of mind in this action, which I admire, with that generous
contempt of money which you show 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 JUDAS, - the sordid and treacherous idea, so
inseparable from the name, would have accompanied him thro' life like his
shadow, and, in the end, made a miser and a rascal of him, in spite, Sir, of
your example.
    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; - Teodidaktos. - Persuasion hung upon his
lips, and the elements of Logick and Rhetorick were so blended up in him, - and,
withall, he had so shrewd a guess at the weaknesses and passions of his
respondent, -- that NATURE 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 Cicero nor Quintilian de Oratore, nor Isocrates, nor
Aristotle, nor Longinus amongst the antients; -- nor Vossius, nor Skioppius, nor
Ramus, nor Farnaby 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 Crackenthorp or Burgersdicius, or any Dutch
logician or commentator; - he knew not so much as in what the difference of an
argument ad ignorantiam, and an argument ad hominem consisted; so that I well
remember, when he went up along with me to enter my name at Jesus College 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 'em.
    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 enter'd upon the footing of mere whims, and of a vive la
Bagatelle; and as such he would make merry with them for half an hour or so, and
having sharpen'd his wit upon 'em, dismiss them till another day.
    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 enterance, 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.
    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, tho' 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 gain'd 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 every
thing 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 Ponto or Cupid for their puppydog.
    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 clear'd; -- and, possibly, sometime 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 assum'd 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 further.
    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. Jack, Dick, and Tom
were of this class: These my father call'd neutral names; -affirming of them,
without a satyr, That there had been as many knaves and fools, at least, as wise
and good men, since the 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 others effects; for which reason, he would
often declare, He would not give a cherry-stone to choose amongst them. Bob,
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
Epsom, when it was given him, - he would oft times thank heaven it was no worse.
Andrew was something like a negative quantity in Algebra with him; - 'twas
worse, he said, than nothing. - William stood pretty high: - Numps again was low
with him; - and Nick, he said, was the DEVIL.
    But, of all the names in the universe, he had the most unconquerable
aversion for TRISTRAM; - he had the lowest and most contemptible opinion of it
of any thing in the world, - thinking it could possibly produce nothing in rerum
naturâ, 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 EPIPHONEMA, or rather
EROTESIS, 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 remember'd, -- whether he had ever read, - or
even whether he had ever heard tell of a man, call'd Tristram, performing any
thing great or worth recording? - No -, he would say, - TRISTRAM! - The thing is
impossible.
    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 DISSERTATION
simply upon the word Tristram, - showing the world, with great candour and
modesty, the grounds of his great abhorrence to the name.
    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
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 TRISTRAM! -- Melancholy dissyllable of sound! which, to his
ears, was unison to Nicompoop, and every name vituperative under heaven. -- By
his ashes! I swear it, - if ever malignant spirit took pleasure, or busied
itself by 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.
 

                                   Chap. XX.

- How could you, Madam, be so inattentive in reading the last chapter? I told
you in it, That my mother was not a papist. -- 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 or
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 Pliny the younger affirm, »That he
never read a book so bad, but he drew some profit from it.« The stories of
Greece and Rome, run over without this turn and application, - do less service,
I affirm it, than the history of Parismus and Parismenus, or of the Seven
Champions of England, read with it.
    -- 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 necessary I should be born before I was christen'd.« Had
my mother, Madam, been a Papist, that consequence did not follow1.
    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 self-same vile pruriency for fresh adventures
in all things, has got so strongly into our habit and humours, - 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
inkhorn.
    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.
 
            Memoire presenté à Messieurs les Docteurs de Sorbonne.2
 
Un Chirurgien Accoucheur, represente à Messieurs les Docteurs de Sorbonne, qu'il
y a des cas, quoique trés rares, où une mere ne sçauroit accoucher, &amp; même
où l'enfant est tellement renfermé dans le sein de sa mere, qu'il ne fait
paroître 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 petite canulle, 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 &amp; légitime, &amp; s'il peut s'en
servir dans le cas qu'il vient d' exposer.
 

                                    Reponse.

Le Conseil estime, que la question proposée souffre de grandes difficultés. Les
Théologiens posent d'un coté pour principe, que le baptême, qui est une
naissance spirituelle, suppose une premiere naissance; il faut être né dans le
monde, pour renaître en Jesus Christ, come ils l'enseignent. S. Thomas, 3 part,
quæst. 88. artic. 11. suit cette doctrine come une verité constante; l'on ne
peut, dit ce S. Docteur, baptiser les enfans qui sont renfermés dans le fein de
leurs Meres, &amp; S. Thomas est fondé sur ce, que les enfans ne sont point nés,
&amp; ne peuvent être comptés parmi les autres hommes; d'où il conclud, qu'ils
ne peuvent être l'object d'une action extérieure, pour recevoir par leur
ministére, les sacremens nécessaires au salut: 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. Les rituels ordonnent dans la pratique ce que les
théologiens ont établi sur les mêmes matiéres, &amp; 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, &amp; des rituels, qui sont les régles des diocéses, paroît
former une autorité qui termine la question presente; cependant le conseil de
conscience considerant d'un coté, que le raisonnement des théologiens est
uniquement fondé sur une raison de convenance, &amp; 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; &amp; d'un autre côté, considerant que les mêmes théologiens
enseignent, que l'on peut risquer les sacremens que Jesus Christ a établis come
des moyens faciles, mais nécessaires pour sanctifier les hommes; &amp;
d'ailleurs estimant, que les enfans renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres,
pourroient être capables de salut, parce qu'ils sont capables de damnation; -
pour ces considerations, &amp; en égard à l'exposé, suivant lequel on 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, &amp; supposant, come il est exposé, que le moyen
don't il s'agit est propre à leur procurer le baptême; cependant come il
s'agiroit, en autorisant la pratique proposée, de changer une regle
universellement établie, le Conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit
s'addresser à son évêque, &amp; à qui il appartient de juger de l'utilité, &amp;
du danger du moyen proposé, &amp; come, 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, &amp; d'y déroger dans le cas, ou la loi ne sçauroit
obliger, quelque sage &amp; quelque utile que paroisse la maniére de baptiser
don't il s'agit, le conseil ne pourroit l'approuver sans le concours de ces deux
autorités. On conseille au moins à celui qui consulte, de s'addresser à son
evêque, &amp; de lui faire part de la presente décision, afin que, si le prélat
entre dans les raisons sur lesquelles les docteurs soussignés s'appuyent, il
puisse étre autorisé dans le cas de nécessité, ou il risqueroit trop d'attendre
que la permission fût demandée &amp; accordée d'employer le moyen, qu'il propose
si avantaguex au salut de l'enfant. Au reste le conseil, en estimant que l'on
pourroit s'en servir, croit cependant, que si les enfans don't 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, &amp; en cela le
conseil se conforme a tous les rituels, qui en autorisant le baptême d'un enfant
qui fait paroître quelque partie de son corps, enjoignent néanmoins, &amp;
ordonnent de le baptiser sous condition, s'il vient heureusement au monde.
    Déliberé en Sorbonne, le 10 Avril, 1733.
                                                                    A. LE MOYNE,
                                                                  L. DE ROMIGNY,
                                                                    DE MARCILLY.
 
Mr. Tristram Shandy's compliments to Messrs. Le Moyne, De Romigny, and De
Marcilly, 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 HOMUNCULI at once, slap-dash, by injection,
would not be a shorter and safer cut still; on condition, as above, That if the
HOMUNCULI do well and come safe into the world after this, that each and every
of them shall be baptized again (sous condition.) -- And provided, in the second
place, That the thing can be done, which Mr. Shandy apprehends it may, par le
moyen d'une petite canulle, and sans faire aucun tort au pere.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

- 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 Toby, -- 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.
    I think, replied my uncle Toby, 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 Toby's
sentiments upon this matter, you must be made to enter first a little into his
character, the out-lines of which I shall just give you, and then the dialogue
between him and my father will go on as well again.
    - 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 France, 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 William's reign, - when the great Dryden, in writing one of his long
prefaces, (if I mistake not) most fortunately hit upon it. Indeed towards the
latter end of queen Anne, the great Addison 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 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,
March 26, 1759, and betwixt the hours of nine and ten in the morning.
    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 ical) have, for these two last centuries and more, gradually
been creeping upwards towards that AAkmh 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.
    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, As war begets poverty, poverty peace, --
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.
    -- 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 chance. --
    But I forget my uncle Toby, whom all this while we have left knocking the
ashes out of his tobacco pipe.
    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 appear'd too many strong lines in it
of a family-likeness, which showed 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
excentricity in my course when I was a boy, - should never once endeavour to
account for them in this way; for all the SHANDY FAMILY were of an original
character throughout; -- I mean the males, - the females had no character at
all, - except, indeed, my great aunt DINAH, who, about sixty years ago, was
married and got with child by the coachman, for which my father, according to
his hypothesis of Christian names, would often say, She might thank her
godfathers and godmothers.
    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 Toby. 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 SHANDY FAMILY
any good at all, it might lye 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 Fescue, - or in the decisive Manner of Tacitus, 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.
    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:
    My uncle TOBY SHANDY, 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 extream and unparallel'd modesty of nature; -- tho' 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. -- Which ever way my uncle Toby 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 possess'd him, and it arose to
such a height in him, as almost 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.
    You will imagine, Madam, that my uncle Toby 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 of mind.
    I wish I could say so, - for unless it was with his sister-in-law, my
father's wife and my mother, -- my uncle Toby 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 Namur, which struck full upon my uncle Toby's
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 further light into this matter, or to say more than what I
have said already, -- That my uncle Toby 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 DINAH 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 Toby's 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 any thing in the world, only to let the story rest.
    My father, I believe, had the truest love and tenderness for my uncle Toby,
that ever one brother bore towards another, and would have done any thing in
nature, which one brother in reason could have desire'd of another, to have made
my uncle Toby's heart easy in this, or any other point. But this lay out of his
power.
    -- My father, as I told you, was a philosopher in grain, - speculative, -
systematical; - and my aunt Dinah's affair was a matter of as much consequence
to him, as the retrogradation of the planets to Copernicus: - The backslidings
of Venus in her orbit fortified the Copernican system, call'd so after his name;
and the backslidings of my aunt Dinah in her orbit, did the same service in
establishing my father's system, which, I trust, will for ever hereafter be
call'd the Shandean System, after his.
    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, Copernicus, 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. -
Amicus Plato, my father would say, construing the words to my uncle Toby, as he
went along, Amicus Plato; that is, DINAH was my aunt; - sed magis amica veritas
-- but TRUTH is my sister.
    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.
    For God's sake, my uncle Toby would cry, -- and for my sake, and for all our
sakes my dear brother Shandy, - 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 Toby would say,
throwing himself back in his armchair, 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 consider'd as nothing but common air, in
competition of an hypothesis. In my plain sense of things, my uncle Toby, would
answer, -- every such instance is downright MURDER, let who will commit it. --
There lies your mistake, my father would reply; -- for, in Foro Scientiæ there
is no such thing as MURDER, -- 'tis only DEATH, brother.
    My uncle Toby would never offer to answer this by any other kind of
argument, than that of whistling half a dozen bars of Lillabullero. -- You must
know it was the usual channel thro' which his passions got vent, when any thing
shocked or surprised him; - but especially when any thing, which he deem'd very
absurd, was offer'd.
    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
Argumentum ad Verecundiam, ex Absurdo, ex Fortiori, 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 grand-father'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 TREASURY of the Ars Logica, 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.
    I do therefore, by these presents, strictly order and command, That it be
known and distinguished by the name and title of the Argumentum Fistulatorium,
and no other; - and that it rank hereafter with the Argumentum Baculinum, and
the Argumentum ad Crumenam, and for ever hereafter be treated of in the same
chapter.
    As for the Argumentum Tripodium, which is never used but by the woman
against the man; - and the Argumentum ad Rem, 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

The learned Bishop Hall, I mean the famous Dr. Joseph Hall, who was Bishop of
Exeter in King James the first's reign, tells us in one of his Decads, at the
end of his divine art of meditation, imprinted at London, in the year 1610, by
John Beal, dwelling in Aldergate-street, »That it is an abominable thing for a
man to commend himself;« - and I really think it is so.
    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.
    This is precisely my situation.
    For in this long digression which I was accidentally led into, as in all my
digressions (one only excepted) there is a master-stroke 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 Great-Britain; yet I constantly take care to
order affairs so, that my main business does not stand still in my absence.
    I was just going, for example, to have given you the great outlines of my
uncle Toby's most whimsical character; - when my aunt Dinah and the coachman
came a-cross 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 Toby's 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 in, as we went along, so that
you are much better acquainted with my uncle Toby now than you was before.
    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.
    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 some such
trifling hints.
    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.
    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, his whole work stands stock-still; - and if he
goes on with his main work, -- then there is an end of his digression.
    -- 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

I have a strong propensity in me to begin this chapter very nonsensically, and I
will not balk my fancy. - Accordingly I set off thus.
    If the fixture of Momus's 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
the very gravest of us all, in one coin or other, must have paid window-money
every day of our lives.
    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 bee-hive, and look'd in, -
view'd the soul stark naked; - observe'd 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 Mercury (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 show
to the contrary, but one fine transparent body of clear glass (bating the
umbilical 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 thro'; - his soul might
as well, unless, for more 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.
    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 specifick
characters of them, we must go some other way to work.
    Many, in good truth, are the ways which human wit has been forced to take to
do this thing with exactness.
    Some, for instance, draw all their characters with wind instruments. -
Virgil takes notice of that way in the affair of Dido and Æneas; - but it is as
fallacious as the breath of fame; - and, moreover, bespeaks a narrow genius. I
am not ignorant that the Italians pretend to a mathematical exactness in their
designations of one particular sort of character among them, from the forte or
piano 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, ad populum: - 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.
    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 out-line, - 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.
    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 Non-Naturals. -- Why the most natural actions of
a man's life should be call'd his Non-Naturals, - is another question.
    There are others, fourthly, who disdain every one of these expedients; -not
from any fertility of his own, but from the various ways of doing it, which they
have borrowed from the honourable devices which the Pentagraphic Brethren3 of
the brush have shown in taking copies. -These, you must know, are your great
historians.
    One of these you will see drawing a full-length character against the light;
- that's illiberal, - dishonest, - and hard upon the character of the man who
sits.
    Others, to mend the matter, will make a drawing of you in the Camera; -that
is most unfair of all, - because, there you are sure to be represented in some
of your most ridiculous attitudes.
    To avoid all and every one of these errors, in giving you my uncle Toby's
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 Alps; - nor will I consider either
his repletions or his discharges, - or touch upon his Non- - but, in a word, I
will draw my uncle Toby's character from his HOBBY-HORSE.
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

If I was not morally sure that the reader must be out of all patience for my
uncle Toby's 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.
    A man and his HOBBY-HORSE, 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 HOBBY-HORSE. - By long journies
and much friction, it so happens that the body of the rider is at length fill'd
as full of HOBBY-HORSICAL 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.
    Now the HOBBY-HORSE which my uncle Toby always rode upon, was, in my
opinion, an HOBBY-HORSE well worth giving a description of, if it was only upon
the score of his great singularity; for you might have travelled from York to
Dover, -- from Dover to Penzance in Cornwall, and from Penzance to York 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 HOBBY-HORSE 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 a-cross the room; - so would my uncle
Toby use no other argument to prove his HOBBY-HORSE was a HOBBY-HORSE indeed,
but by getting upon his back and riding him about; - leaving the world after
that to determine the point as it thought fit.
    In good truth, my uncle Toby mounted him with so much pleasure, and he
carried my uncle Toby so well, -- that he troubled his head very little with
what the world either said or thought about it.
    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 Toby came by him.
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

The wound in my uncle Toby's groin, which he received at the siege of Namur,
rendering him unfit for the service, it was thought expedient he should return
to England, in order, if possible, to be set to rights.
    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
os pubis, and the outward edge of that part of the coxendix called the os
illeum, -- 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, -
(though it was pretty large) which inclined the surgeon all along to think, that
the great injury which it had done my uncle Toby's 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.
    My father at that time was just beginning business in London, and had taken
a house; - and as the truest friendship and cordiality subsisted between the two
brothers, - and that my father thought my uncle Toby 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 Toby, and chat an hour by his bed side.
    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.
    These conversations were infinitely kind; and my uncle Toby 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.
    What these perplexities of my uncle Toby 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 any thing. 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.
 
                            End of the First Volume.
 

                                   Volume II.

                                    Chap. I.

I have begun a new book, on purpose that I might have room enough to explain the
nature of the perplexities in which my uncle Toby was involved, from the many
discourses and interrogations about the siege of Namur, where he received his
wound.
    I must remind the reader, in case he has read the history of King William's
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 English and Dutch upon the
point of the advanced counterscarp, before the gate of St. Nicolas, which
enclosed the great sluice or water-stop, where the English were terribly exposed
to the shot of the counter-guard and demi-bastion of St. Roch: The issue of
which hot dispute, in three words, was this; That the Dutch lodged themselves
upon the counter-guard, - and that the English made themselves masters of the
covered way before St. Nicolas's gate, notwithstanding the gallantry of the
French officers, who exposed themselves upon the glacis sword in hand.
    As this was the principal attack of which my uncle Toby was an eye-witness
at Namur, -- the army of the besiegers being cut off, by the confluence of the
Maes and Sambre, from seeing much of each other's operations, -my uncle Toby 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 counterscarp, -- the glacis
and covered way, -- the half-moon and ravelin, -- as to make his company fully
comprehend where and what he was about.
    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 Toby did oft times puzzle his visitors, and
sometimes himself too.
    To speak the truth, unless the company my father led up stairs were
tolerably clear-headed, or my uncle Toby was in one of his best explanatory
moods, 'twas a difficult thing, do what he could, to keep the discourse free
from obscurity.
    What rendered the account of this affair the more intricate to my uncle
Toby, was this, - that in the attack of the counterscarp before the gate of St.
Nicolas, extending itself from the bank of the Maes, 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
bewilder'd 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.
    These perplexing rebuffs gave my uncle Toby Shandy more perturbations than
you would imagine; and as my father's kindness to him was continually dragging
up fresh friends and fresh inquirers, - he had but a very uneasy task of it.
    No doubt my uncle Toby had great command of himself, - and 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 these little and hourly
vexations, which may seem trifling and of no account to the man who has not read
Hippocrates, yet, whoever has read Hippocrates, or Dr. James Mackenzie, 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 paroxisms and exacerbations of his wound my uncle Toby must
have undergone upon that score only.
    - My uncle Toby 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.
    He was one morning lying upon his back in his bed, the anguish and nature of
the wound upon his groin suffering him to lye 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 fortifications of the town and
citadel of Namur, 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 Toby's wound was got in one of the
traverses, about thirty toises from the returning angle of the trench, opposite
to the salient angle of the demi-bastion of St. Roch; - so that he was pretty
confident he could stick a pin upon the identical spot of ground where he was
standing in when the stone struck him.
    All this succeeded to his wishes, and not only freed him from a world of sad
explanations, but, in the end, it prov'd the happy means, as you will read, of
procuring my uncle Toby his HOBBY-HORSE.
 

                                   Chap. II.

There is nothing so foolish, when you are at the expense 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 any thing 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.
    -- 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.
    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 mean time, that I shall be able to make a great deal of more room
next year.
    -- How, in the name of wonder! could your uncle Toby, 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.
    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 Toby's character as a soldier excellently
well, - and had he not accustomed himself, in such attacks, to whistle the
Lillabullero, - 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.
    -- Therefore I answer thus:
    Pray, Sir, in all the reading which you have ever read, did you ever read
such a book as Locke's 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 metaphysic circle.
    But this by the way.
    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 man, is threefold.
    Dull organs, dear Sir, in the first place. Secondly, slight and transient
impressions made by 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
Dolly your chambermaid, and I will give you my cap and bell along with it, if I
make not this matter so plain that Dolly herself shall understand it as well as
Malbranch. -- When Dolly has indited her epistle to Robin, 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 Dolly's hand is in search of. -Your organs are not so dull that I should
inform you, - 'tis an inch, Sir, of red seal-wax.
    When this is melted and dropp'd upon the letter, - if Dolly fumbles too long
for her thimble, till the wax is over harden'd, it will not receive the mark of
her thimble from the usual impulse which was wont to imprint it. Very well: If
Dolly's 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 Dolly 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.
    Now you must understand that not one of these was the true cause of the
confusion in my uncle Toby's discourse; and it is for that very reason I enlarge
upon them so long, after the manner of great physiologists, - to show the world
what it did not arise from.
    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.
    It is ten to one, (at Arthur's) whether you have ever read the literary
histories of past ages; - if you have, - what terrible battles, 'yclept
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.
    Gentle critick! when thou hast weigh'd all this, and consider'd 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 COUNCILS about oysia and ypostasis; and in the SCHOOLS of
the learned about power and about spirit; - about essences, and about
quintessences; -- about substances, and about space: -- What confusion in
greater THEATRES from words of little meaning, and as indeterminate a sense; -
when thou considers this, thou wilt not wonder at my uncle Toby's 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.
 

                                   Chap. III.

When my uncle Toby got his map of Namur to his mind, he began immediately to
apply himself, and with the utmost diligence, to the study of it; for nothing
being of more 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.
    In a fortnight's close and painful application, which, by the bye, did my
uncle Toby's wound, upon his groin, no good, - he was enabled, by the help of
some marginal documents at the feet of the elephant, together with Gobesius's
military architecture and pyroballogy, translated from the Flemish, 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 Toby
was able to cross the Maes and Sambre; make diversions as far as Vauban's line,
the abbey of Salsines, etc. and give his visitors as distinct a history of each
of their attacks, as of that of the gate of St. Nicolas, where he had the honour
to receive his wound.
    But the desire of knowledge, like the thirst of riches, increases ever with
the acquisition of it. The more my uncle Toby pored over his map, the more he
took a liking to it; - by the same process and electrical assimilation, as I
told you, thro' 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-picture'd, - be-butterflied, and be-fiddled.
    The more my uncle Toby 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 Italy or
Flanders, 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.
    In the second year my uncle Toby purchased Ramelli and Cataneo, translated
from the Italian; - likewise Stevinus, Marolis, the Chevalier de Ville, Lorini,
Cochorn, Sheeter, the Count de Pagan, the Marshal Vauban, Mons. Blondel, with
almost as many more books of military architecture, as Don Quixote was found to
have of chivalry, when the curate and barber invaded his library.
    Towards the beginning of the third year, which was in August, ninety-nine,
my uncle Toby 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 N. Tartaglia, 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
N. Tartaglia proved to my uncle Toby to be an impossible thing.
    -- Endless is the Search of Truth!
    No sooner was my uncle Toby 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 Maltus, and studied him devoutly. - He proceeded next to Gallileo and
Torricellius, wherein, by certain geometrical rules, infallibly laid down, he
found the precise path to be a PARABOLA, - or else an HYPERBOLA, - and that the
parameter, or latus rectum, of the conic section of the said path, was to the
quantity and amplitude in a direct ratio, as the whole line to the sine of
double the angle of incidence, form'd by the breech upon an horizontal plane; -
and that the semi-parameter, -- stop! my dear uncle Toby, - stop! - go not one
foot further into this thorny and bewilder'd track, - intricate are the steps!
intricate are the mazes of this labyrinth! intricate are the troubles which the
pursuit of this bewitching phantom KNOWLEDGE, will bring upon thee. - O my
uncle! fly -fly - fly from it as from a serpent. - It is fit, good-natur'd 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
Toby.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

I would not give a groat for that man's knowledge in pen-craft, who does not
understand this, - That the best plain narrative in the world, tack'd very close
to the last spirited apostrophe to my uncle Toby - 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.
    -- 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 cum grano salis; 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.
    In the latter end of the third year, my uncle Toby perceiving that the
parameter and semi-parameter 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.
    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 as quick as lightening, he began
to sigh heavily for his recovery, - complain'd 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 his 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 Toby's eloquence brought tears into his eyes; - 'twas unexpected; - My
uncle Toby, 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 any thing like it in my uncle Toby's carriage; -
he had never once dropp'd one fretful or discontented word; - he had been all
patience, - all submission.
    - We lose the right of complaining sometimes by forbearing it; -- but we
oftner treble the force: - The surgeon was astonished; - but much more so, when
he heard my uncle Toby go on, and peremptorily insist upon his healing up the
wound directly, -- or sending for Monsieur Ronjat, the King's Serjeant-Surgeon,
to do it for him.
    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 Toby 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 show'd itself in the present case, the
penetrating reader will suspect there was some other cause or crotchet for it in
my uncle Toby's 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 Toby in
the middle of his sentence.
 

                                    Chap. V.

When a man gives himself up to the government of a ruling passion, -- or, in
other words, when his HOBBY-HORSE grows head-strong, -- farewell cool reason and
fair discretion!
    My uncle Toby's wound was near well, and as soon as the surgeon recovered
his surprise, and could get leave to say as much - he told him, 'twas just
beginning to incarnate; and that if no fresh exfoliation happen'd, which there
was no signs of, - it would be dried up in five or six weeks. The sound of as
many olympiads twelve hours before, would have convey'd an idea of shorter
duration to my uncle Toby's mind. - The succession of his ideas was now rapid, -
he broil'd 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
Trim, 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 bank-note upon the table for the
surgeon's care of him, and a letter of tender thanks for his brother's, - he
pack'd up his maps, his books of fortification, his instruments, etc. and, by
the help of a crutch on one side, and Trim on the other, -- my uncle Toby
embark'd for Shandy-Hall.
    The reason, or rather the rise, of this sudden demigration, was as follows:
    The table in my uncle Toby's room, and at which, the night before this
change happened, he was sitting with his maps, etc. 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 Blondel off the table and Count de
Pagan o'top of him.
    'Twas to no purpose for a man, lame as my uncle Toby was, to think of
redressing all these evils by himself, - he rung his bell for his man Trim; -
Trim! quoth my uncle Toby, pri'thee see what confusion I have here been making.
- I must have some better contrivance, Trim. - 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 Trim, 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.
    I must here inform you, that this servant of my uncle Toby's, who went by
the name of Trim, had been a Corporal in my uncle's own company, - his real name
was James Butler, - but having got the nick-name of Trim in the regiment, my
uncle Toby, unless when he happened to be very angry with him, would never call
him by any other name.
    The poor fellow had been disabled for the service, by a wound on his left
knee by a musket-bullet, at the battle of Landen, which was two years before the
affair of Namur; - and as the fellow was well beloved in the regiment, and a
handy fellow into the bargain, my uncle Toby took him for his servant, and of
excellent use was he, attending my uncle Toby in the camp and in his quarters as
valet, groom, barber, cook, sempster, and nurse; and indeed, from first to last,
waited upon him and served him with great fidelity and affection.
    My uncle Toby loved the man in return, and what attached him more to him
still, was the similitude of their knowledge: - For Corporal Trim, (for so, for
the future, I shall call him) by four years occasional attention to his Master's
discourse upon fortified towns, and the advantage of prying and peeping
continually into his Master's plans, etc. exclusive and besides what he gained
HOBBY-HORSICALLY, as a body-servant, Non Hobby-Horsical per se; -- 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 strong-holds as my uncle Toby himself.
    I have but one more stroke to give to finish Corporal Trim's 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 your
Honour, with the respectfulness of Corporal Trim's manner, interceding so strong
in behalf of his elocution, -that tho' you might have been incommoded, - you
could not well be angry. My uncle Toby was seldom either the one or the other
with him, -or, at least, this fault, in Trim, broke no squares with 'em. My
uncle Toby, as I said, loved the man; - and besides, as he ever looked upon a
faithful servant, - but as a humble friend, - he could not bear to stop his
mouth. - Such was Corporal Trim.
    If I durst presume, continued Trim, to give your Honour my advice, and speak
my opinion in this matter. - Thou art welcome, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, -
speak, - speak what thou thinkest upon the subject, man, without fear. Why then,
replied Trim, (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 Trim, advancing his left, which was his lame leg, a
little forwards, - and pointing with his right hand open towards a map of
Dunkirk, which was pinn'd against the hangings, - I think, quoth Corporal Trim,
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 Trim, 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, Trim, 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,
Trim, 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, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby. - 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 Flanders, 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, Trim, said my uncle Toby; -Whether they
are gazons or sods, is not much matter, replied Trim, your Honour knows they are
ten times beyond a facing either of brick or stone; -- I know they are, Trim, in
some respects, - quoth my uncle Toby, 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 St. Nicolas's Gate) and
facilitate the passage over it.
    Your Honour understands these matters, replied Corporal Trim, 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 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.
    My uncle Toby blushed as red as scarlet as Trim 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 Trim's project and description. - Trim! said my uncle Toby,
thou hast said enough. - We might begin the campaign, continued Trim, on the
very day that his Majesty and the Allies take the field, and demolish them town
by town as fast as -- Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, say no more. - Your Honour,
continued Trim, might sit in your arm-chair (pointing to it) this fine weather,
giving me your orders, and I would -- Say no more, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby. --
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, Trim, - quoth my uncle Toby (putting his 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, Trim,
quoth my uncle Toby, leaping up upon one leg, quite overcome with rapture, --
and thrusting a guinea into Trim's hand. -- Trim, said my uncle Toby, say no
more; - but go down, Trim, this moment, my lad, and bring up my supper this
instant.
    Trim ran down and brought up his Master's supper, - to no purpose: --Trim's
plan of operation ran so in my uncle Toby's head, he could not taste it. - Trim,
quoth my uncle Toby, get me to-bed; - 'twas all one. -Corporal Trim's
description had fired his imagination, - my uncle Toby could not shut his eyes.
-The more he consider'd 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 Trim's decampment.
    My uncle Toby had a little neat country-house of his own, in the village
where my father's estate lay at Shandy, 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 Trim wished for; - so that as
Trim 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 Toby's 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.
    Never did lover post down to a belove'd mistress with more heat and
expectation, than my uncle Toby 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 thickset flowering shrubs; so that the idea of not being seen,
did not a little contribute to the idea of pleasure preconceived in my uncle
Toby's mind. -- Vain thought! however thick it was planted about, -- or private
soever it might seem, - to think, dear uncle Toby, of enjoying a thing which
took up a whole rood and a half of ground, - and not have it known!
    How my uncle Toby and Corporal Trim 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.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

- What can they be doing, brother? said my father. - I think, replied my uncle
Toby, - 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.
    Pray, what's all that racket over our heads, Obadiah? - quoth my father; -my
brother and I can scarce hear ourselves speak.
    Sir, answer'd Obadiah, making a bow towards his left shoulder, - my Mistress
is taken very badly; - and where's Susannah running down the garden there, as if
they were going to ravish her? -- Sir, she is running the shortest cut into the
town, replied Obadiah, to fetch the old midwife. -- Then saddle a horse, quoth
my father, and do you go directly for Dr. Slop, 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.
    It is very strange, says my father, addressing himself to my uncle Toby, as
Obadiah shut the door, -- as there is so expert an operator as Dr. Slop 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.
    Mayhap, brother, replied my uncle Toby, 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.
    -- Then it can be out of nothing in the whole world, quoth my uncle Toby, in
the simplicity of his heart, - but MODESTY: - 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 Toby had completed the sentence or not; -- 'tis for his advantage to
suppose he had, -- as, I think, he could have added no ONE WORD which would have
improved it.
    If, on the contrary, my uncle Toby had not fully arrived at his 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 Aposiopesis. - Just heaven! how does the
Poco piu and the Poco meno of the Italian artists; - the insensible, more or
less, determine the precise line of beauty in the sentence, as well as in the
statue! How do the slight touches of the chisel, the pencil, the pen, the
fiddle-stick, etcætera, - 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.
    -- »My sister, mayhap,« quoth my uncle Toby, »does not choose to let a man
come so near her * * * * *.« Make this dash, - 'tis an Aposiopesis. - Take the
dash away, and write Backside, -- 'tis Bawdy. - Scratch Backside out, and put
Cover'd-way in, - 'tis a Metaphor; - and, I dare say, as fortification ran so
much in my uncle Toby's head, that if he had been left to have added one word to
the sentence, - that word was it.
    But whether that was the case or not the case; - or whether the snapping of
my father's tobacco-pipe so critically, happened thro' accident or anger, - will
be seen in due time.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

Tho' 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 up upon both his legs to do it.
    This look'd something like heat; -- and the manner of his reply to what my
uncle Toby was saying, prov'd it was so.
    - »Not choose,« quoth my father, (repeating my uncle Toby's words) »to let a
man come so near her --« By heaven, brother Toby! you would try the patience of
a Job; - and I think I have the plagues of one already, without it. -- Why? -
Where? - Wherein? -- Wherefore? - Upon what account, replied my uncle Toby, 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 Toby; and I think, continued he, that the shock I
received the year after the demolition of Dunkirk, in my affair with widow
Wadman; - 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, any thing 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.
    It is said in Aristotle's Master-Piece, »That when a man doth think of any
thing 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.«
    My uncle Toby, I suppose, thought of neither, - for he look'd horizontally.
-- Right end, - quoth my uncle Toby, muttering the two words low to himself, and
fixing his two eyes insensibly as he muttered them, upon a small crevice, form'd
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 Toby, (keeping his eye still fix'd upon the bad
joint) this month together, I am sure I should not be able to find it out.
    Then, brother Toby, replied my father, I will tell you.
    Every thing in this world, continued my father (filling a fresh pipe) -
every thing in this earthly world, my dear brother Toby, has two handles. - Not
always, quoth my uncle Toby. - At least, replied my father, every one 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, com-at-ability, and convenience of all the
parts which constitute the whole of that animal, call'd Woman, and compare them
analogically - I never understood rightly the meaning of that word, -- quoth my
uncle Toby. -- ANALOGY, replied my father, is the certain relation and
agreement, which different -- Here a Devil of a rap at the door snapp'd 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 to be safely deliver'd 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.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

It is about an hour and a half's tolerable good reading since my uncle Toby rung
the bell, when Obadiah was ordered to saddle a horse, and go for Dr. Slop, the
man-midwife; -- so that no one can say, with reason, that I have not allowed
Obadiah time enough, poetically speaking, and considering the emergency too,
both to go and come; -- tho', morally and truly speaking, the man, perhaps, has
scarce had time to get on his boots.
    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, -- abjurning and
detesting the jurisdiction of all other pendulums whatever.
    I would, therefore, desire him to consider that it is but poor eight miles
from Shandy-Hall to Dr. Slop, the man-midwife's house; - and that whilst Obadiah
has been going those said miles and back, I have brought my uncle Toby from
Namur, quite across all Flanders, into England: - That I have had him ill upon
my hands near four years; - and have since travelled him and Corporal Trim, in a
chariot and four, a journey of near two hundred miles down into Yorkshire; - all
which put together, must have prepared the reader's imagination for the entrance
of Dr. Slop upon the stage, - as much, at least, (I hope) as a dance, a song, or
a concerto between the acts.
    If my hypercritick is intractable, - alleging, 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, tho' it might save me
dramatically, will damn me biographically, rendering my book, from this very
moment, a profess'd ROMANCE, 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 Obadiah had not got above threescore
yards from the stable-yard before he met with Dr. Slop; - and indeed he gave a
dirty proof that he had met with him, - and was within an ace of giving a
tragical one too.
    Imagine to yourself; - but this had better begin a new chapter.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

Imagine to yourself a little, squat, uncourtly figure of a Doctor Slop, 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.
    Such were the out-lines of Dr. Slop's figure, which, -- if you have read
Hogarth's analysis of beauty, and if you have not, I wish you would; - you must
know, may as certainly be caracatur'd, and convey'd to the mind by three strokes
as three hundred.
    Imagine such a one, - for such, I say, were the out-lines of Dr. Slop's
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, Obadiah mounted upon a strong monster of a coach-horse, prick'd into a
full gallop, and making all practicable speed the adverse way.
    Pray, Sir, let me interest you a moment in this description.
    Had Dr. Slop beheld Obadiah 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 approach'd, 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. Slop in his situation, than the worst of
Whiston's comets? - To say nothing of the NUCLEUS; that is, of Obadiah 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. Slop have been,
when you read (which you are just going to do) that he was advancing thus warily
along towards Shandy-Hall, and had approach'd 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 Obadiah 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. Slop was!
    What could Dr. Slop do? - He cross'd 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 happen'd, 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 slipp'd, he lost his stirrup, -
in losing which he lost his seat; -- and in the multitude of all these losses
(which, by the bye, shows what little advantage there is in crossing) the
unfortunate Doctor lost his presence of mind. So that, without waiting for
Obadiah's 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.
    Obadiah pull'd off his cap twice to Dr. Slop; -- once as he was falling, -
and then again when he saw him seated. - Ill-timed complaisance! -- had not the
fellow better have stopp'd his horse, and got off and help'd him? -- Sir, he did
all that his situation would allow; - but the MOMENTUM of the coach-horse was so
great, that Obadiah could not do it all at once; -- he rode in a circle three
times round Dr. Slop, 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
Obadiah had better have been a league off. In short, never was a Dr. Slop so
beluted, and so transubstantiated, since that affair came into fashion.
 

                                    Chap. X.

When Dr. Slop entered the back-parlour, where my father and my uncle Toby were
discoursing upon the nature of women, -- it was hard to determine whether Dr.
Slop's figure, or Dr. Slop's presence, occasioned more surprise to them; for as
the accident happened so near the house, as not to make it worth while for
Obadiah to remount him, - Obadiah had led him in as he was, unwiped,
unappointed, unanealed, with all his stains and blotches on him. -- He stood
like Hamlet's ghost, motionless and speechless, for a full minute and a half, at
the parlour door (Obadiah still holding his hand) with all the majesty of mud.
His hinder parts, upon which he had received his fall, totally besmear'd, - and
in every other part of him, blotched over in such a manner with Obadiah's
explosion, that you would have sworn (without mental reservation) that every
grain of it had taken effect.
    Here was a fair opportunity for my uncle Toby to have triumph'd over my
father in his turn; - for no mortal, who had beheld Dr. Slop in that pickle,
could have dissented from so much, at least, of my uncle Toby's opinion, »That
mayhap his sister might not care to let such a Dr. Slop come so near her * **
*.« But it was the Argumentum ad hominem; and if my uncle Toby 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.
    Dr. Slop's presence, at that time, was no less problematical than the mode
of it; tho', it is certain, one moment's reflection in my father might have
solved it; for he had apprised Dr. Slop 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 Shandy-Hall, as he did,
merely to see how matters went on.
    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.
    The ringing of the bell and the rap upon the door, struck likewise strong
upon the sensorium of my uncle Toby, - but it excited a very different train of
thoughts; - the two irreconcilable pulsations instantly brought Stevinus, the
great engineer, along with them, into my uncle Toby's mind: - What business
Stevinus had in this affair, - is the greatest problem of all; - it shall be
solved, - but not in the next chapter.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

Writing, 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.
    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.
    'Tis his turn now; - I have given an ample description of Dr. Slop's sad
overthrow, and of his sad appearance in the back parlour; -- his imagination
must now go on with it for a while.
    Let the reader imagine then, that Dr. Slop has told his tale; -- and in what
words, and with what aggravations his fancy chooses: - Let him suppose, that
Obadiah has told his tale also, and with such rueful looks of affected concern,
as he thinks will best contrast the two figures as they stand by each other: -
Let him imagine, that my father has stepp'd up stairs to see my mother: - And,
to conclude this work of imagination, - let him imagine the doctor wash'd, --
rubb'd down, -- condoled with, - felicitated, - got into a pair of Obadiah's
pumps, stepping forwards towards the door, upon the very point of entering upon
action.
    Truce! - truce, good Dr. Slop! - 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. Slop,
- hast thou been entrusted with the secret articles of this solemn treaty which
has brought thee into this place? - Art though aware that, at this instant, a
daughter of Lucina is put obstetrically over thy head? Alas! - 'tis too true. -
Besides, great son of Pilumnus! what canst thou do? -- Thou has come forth
unarm'd; - thou hast left thy tire-tête, - thy new-invented forceps, - thy
crochet, - thy squirt, 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, at thy bed's head! - Ring; - call; - send Obadiah
back upon the coach-horse to bring them with all speed.
    - Make great haste, Obadiah, quoth my father, and I'll give thee a crown; -
and, quoth my uncle Toby, I'll give him another.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

Your sudden and unexpected arrival, quoth my uncle Toby, addressing himself to
Dr. Slop, (all three of them sitting down to the fire together, as my uncle Toby
began to speak) - instantly brought the great Stevinus into my head, who, you
must know, is a favourite author with me. -- Then, added my father, making use
of the argument Ad Crumenam, -- I will lay twenty guineas to a single crown
piece, (which will serve to give away to Obadiah when he gets back) that this
same Stevinus was some engineer or other, - or has wrote something or other,
either directly or indirectly, upon the science of fortification.
    He has so, - replied my uncle Toby. - I knew it, said my father; - tho', for
the soul of me, I cannot see what kind of connection there can be betwixt Dr.
Slop's 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 Toby,
continued my father, - I declare I would not have my head so full of curtins and
horn-works. -- That, I dare say, you would not, quoth Dr. Slop, interrupting
him, and laughing most immoderately at his pun.
    Dennis the critick 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.
    Sir, quoth my uncle Toby, addressing himself to Dr. Slop, -- the curtins my
brother Shandy mentions here, have nothing to do with bed-steads; - tho', I
know, Du Cange says, »That bed-curtains, in all probability, have taken their
name from them;« - nor have the horn-works, he speaks of, any thing in the world
to do with the horn-works of cuckoldom; - But the curtin, 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
flanked; ('Tis the case of other curtins, quoth Dr. Slop, laughing). however,
continued my uncle Toby, 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
Toby: - 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, - 'it would 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.
    - As for the horn-works (high! ho! sigh'd my father) which, continued my
uncle Toby, my brother was speaking of, they are a very considerable part of an
outwork; - they are called by the French engineers, Ouvrage à corne, and we
generally make them to cover such places as we suspect to be weaker than the
rest; - 'tis form'd by two epaulments or demi-bastions, - they are very pretty,
and if you will take a walk, I'll engage to show you one well worth your
trouble. -- I own, continued my uncle Toby, 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
Toby, 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 tho' 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. --
Accoucheur, - if you please, quoth Dr. Slop. - 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 the end. - I would not, I would not,
brother Toby, have my brains so full of saps, mines, blinds, gabions,
palisadoes, ravelins, half-moons, and such trumpery, to be proprietor of Namur,
and of all the towns in Flanders with it.
    My uncle Toby was a man patient of injuries; - not from want of courage, - I
have told you in the fifth chapter of this second book, »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 sooner have 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 mix'd up
so kindly within him; my uncle Toby had scarce a heart to retaliate upon a fly.
    - Go - says he, one day at dinner, to an over-grown one which had buzz'd
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 Toby, 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.
    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 pleasureable 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
Toby, has never since been worn out of my mind: And tho' I would not depreciate
what the study of the Literæ humaniores, 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.
    This is to serve for parents and governors instead of a whole volume upon
the subject.
    I could not give the reader this stroke in my uncle Toby's picture, by the
instrument with which I drew the other parts of it, -- that taking in no more
than the mere HOBBY-HORSICAL 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 any thing which looked like malignancy; -- yet, in
the little rubs and vexations of life, 'twas apt to show 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 Toby, whom
he truly loved; -- he would feel more pain, ten times told (except in the affair
of my aunt Dinah, or where an hypothesis was concerned) than what he ever gave.
    The characters of the two brothers, in this view of them, reflected light
upon each other, and appear'd with great advantage in this affair which arose
about Stevinus.
    I need not tell the reader, if he keep a HOBBY-HORSE, - that a man's
HOBBY-HORSE is as tender a part as he has about him; and that these unprovoked
strokes, at my uncle Toby's could not be unfelt by him. -- No; -- as I said
above, my uncle Toby did feel them, and very sensibly too.
    Pray, Sir, what said he? -- How did he behave? -- Oh, Sir! - it was great:
For as soon as my father had done insulting his HOBBY-HORSE, -- he turned his
head, without the least emotion, from Dr. Slop, to whom he was addressing his
discourse, and look'd 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 Toby's hands as he spoke: --
Brother Toby, said he, -- I beg thy pardon; -- forgive, I pray thee, this rash
humour which my mother gave me. -- My dear, dear brother, answer'd my uncle
Toby, 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
Toby, -- had it been fifty times as much. -- Besides, what have I to do, my dear
Toby, cried my father, either with your amusements or your pleasures, unless it
was in my power (which it is not) to increase their measure?
    - Brother Shandy, answer'd my uncle Toby, 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 Shandy family at your time of life. -- But,
by that, Sir, quoth Dr. Slop, Mr. Shandy increases his own. -- Not a jot, quoth
my father.
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

My brother does it, quoth my uncle Toby, out of principle. -- In a family-way, I
suppose, quoth Dr. Slop. - Pshaw! - said my father, - 'tis not worth talking of.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

At the end of the last chapter, my father and my uncle Toby were left both
standing, like Brutus and Cassius at the close of the scene making up their
accounts.
    As my father spoke the three last words, - he sat down; - my uncle Toby
exactly followed his example, only, that before he took his chair, he rung the
bell, to order Corporal Trim, who was in waiting, to step home for Stevinus; --
my uncle Toby's house being no farther off than the opposite side of the way.
    Some men would have dropp'd the subject of Stevinus; - but my uncle Toby had
no resentment in his heart, and he went on with the subject, to show my father
that he had none.
    Your sudden appearance, Dr. Slop, quoth my uncle, resuming the discourse,
instantly brought Stevinus into my head. (My father, you may be sure, did not
offer to lay any more wagers upon Stevinus's head) -- Because, continued my
uncle Toby, the celebrated sailing chariot, which belonged to Prince Maurice,
and was of such wonderful contrivance and velocity, as to carry half a dozen
people thirty German miles, in I don't know how few minutes, -- was invented by
Stevinus, that great mathematician and engineer.
    You might have spared your servant the trouble, quoth Dr. Slop, (as the
fellow is lame) of going for Stevinus's account of it, because, in my return
from Leyden thro' the Hague, I walked as far as Schevling, which is two long
miles, on purpose to take a view of it.
    - That's nothing, replied my uncle Toby, to what the learned Peireskius did,
who walked a matter of five hundred miles, reckoning from Paris to Schevling,
and from Schevling to Paris back again, in order to see it, - and nothing else.
    Some men cannot bear to be out-gone.
    The more fool Peireskius, replied Dr. Slop. But mark, - 'twas out of no
contempt of Peireskius at all; -- but that Peireskius's indefatigable labour in
trudging so far on foot out of love for the sciences, reduced the exploit of Dr.
Slop, in that affair, to nothing; - the more fool Peireskius, 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 Peireskius 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 atchiev'd it; -- yet
certainly his machine has been constructed upon solid ones, be they what they
will, or it could not have answer'd at the rate my brother mentions.
    It answered, replied my uncle Toby, as well, if not better; for, as
Peireskius elegantly expresses it, speaking of the velocity of its motion, Tam
citus erat, quam erat ventus; which, unless I have forgot my Latin, is, that it
was as swift as the wind itself.
    But pray, Dr. Slop, 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. Slop; -- 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.
    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 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 scientific
head which brought forth such contrivances; - yet I would as peremptorily
suppress the use of them.
    My father here had got into his element, -- and was going on as prosperously
with his dissertation upon trade, as my uncle Toby 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,
 

                                   Chap. XV.

In popp'd Corporal Trim with Stevinus: -- 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, Trim, said my uncle Toby, nodding to
him.
    But pri'thee, Corporal, quoth my father, drolling, -- look first into it,
and see if thou canst spy aught of a sailing chariot in it.
    Corporal Trim, 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 Trim, 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.
    There is something fallen out, however, said Trim, an' please your Honour;
but it is not a chariot, or any thing like one: - Pri'thee Corporal, said my
father, smiling, what is it then? -- I think, answered Trim, 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.
    The company smiled.
    I cannot conceive how it is possible, quoth my uncle Toby, for such a thing
as a sermon to have got into my Stevinus.
    I think 'tis a sermon, replied Trim; - but if it please your Honours, as it
is a fair hand, I will read you a page; - for Trim, you must know, loved to hear
himself read almost as well as talk.
    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 Obadiah gets back, I should be obliged to you,
brother, if Dr. Slop 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 Trim, I officiated two whole campaigns in Flanders, as Clerk
to the Chaplain of the Regiment. - He can read it, quoth my uncle Toby, as well
as I can. - Trim, 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 Trim
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.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

- If you have any objection, - said my father, addressing himself to Dr. Slop.
Not in the least, replied Dr. Slop; - 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 risks. -- 'Tis wrote upon neither side,
quoth Trim, for 'tis only upon Conscience, an' please your Honours.
    Trim's reason put his audience into good humour, - all but Dr. Slop, who,
turning his head about towards Trim, look'd a little angry.
    Begin, Trim, -- 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.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

- 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 fix'd, as if on duty; - his look determined, -
clinching the sermon in his left hand, like his firelock: - In a word, you would
be apt to paint Trim, as if he was standing in his platoon ready for action: --
His attitude was as unlike all this as you can conceive.
    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!
    The necessity of this precise angle of 85 degrees and a half to a
mathematical exactness, - does it not show us, by the way, - how the arts and
sciences mutually befriend each other?
    How the duce Corporal Trim, 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, etc. shall be commented upon in that part of this
cyclopædia of arts and sciences, where the instrumental parts of the eloquence
of the senate, the pulpit, the bar, the coffee-house, the bed-chamber, and
fire-side, fall under consideration.
    He stood, -- for I repeat it, to take the picture of him in at one view,
with his body sway'd, and somewhat bent forwards, - his right leg firm 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 further 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.
    This I recommend to painters; - need I add, - to orators? - I think not;
for, unless they practise it, - they must fall upon their noses.
    So much for Corporal Trim's body and legs. - He held the sermon loosely, -
not carelessly, in his left hand, raised something above his stomach, and
detach'd a little from his breast; -- his right arm falling negligently by his
side, as nature and the laws of gravity order'd it, - but with the palm of it
open and turned towards his audience, ready to aid the sentiment, in case it
stood in need.
    Corporal Trim's eyes and the muscles of his face were in full harmony with
the other parts of him; - he look'd frank, - unconstrained, - something assured,
-- but not bordering upon assurance.
    Let not the critick ask how Corporal Trim could come by all this; I've told
him it shall be explained; - but so he stood before my father, my uncle Toby,
and Dr. Slop, - so swayed his body, so contrasted his limbs, and with such an
oratorical sweep throughout the whole figure, - a statuary might have modell'd
from it; - nay, I doubt whether the oldest Fellow of a College, - or the Hebrew
Professor himself, could have much mended it.
    Trim made a bow, and read as follows:
 



                                  The Sermon.

 
                               Hebrews xiii. 18.
 
                 -- For we trust we have a good Conscience. --
 
»Trust! - Trust we have a good conscience!«
    [Certainly, Trim, 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.
    He is, an' please your Honour, replied Trim. Pugh! said my father, smiling.
    Sir, quoth Dr. Slop, Trim 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. Slop, that the writer is of our Church? - for aught I can see yet, - he may
be of any Church: -- Because, answered Dr. Slop, 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 Toby. No, replied Dr. Slop, - he would have an old
house over his head. Pray is the Inquisition an ancient building, answered my
uncle Toby, or is it a modern one? - I know nothing of architecture, replied Dr.
Slop. -- An' please your Honours, quoth Trim, the Inquisition is the vilest --
Pri'thee spare thy description, Trim, I hate the very name of it, said my
father. - No matter for that, answered Dr. Slop, - 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 Toby.
Amen, added Trim; 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 Toby, hastily: - How came he there, Trim? -- 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 besides you in our fortifications; -- but the short of the story is
this: - That my brother Tom went over a servant to Lisbon, - and then married a
Jew's widow, who kept a small shop, and sold sausages, which, some how 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 Trim, 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 Trim, (pulling out his handkerchief) as ever blood
warm'd. --
    -- The tears trickled down Trim's cheeks faster than he could well wipe them
away: - A dead silence in the room ensued for some minutes. -- Certain proof of
pity!
    Come, Trim, 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 pri'thee 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.
    Corporal Trim wiped his face, and returning his handkerchief into his
pocket, and, making a bow as he did it, - he began again.]
 



                                  The Sermon.

 
                               HEBREWS xiii. 18.
 
                 -- For We Trust We Have a Good Conscience. --
 
»Trust! 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 indisputable evidence, it must be this very thing, -
whether he has a good conscience or no.«
    [I am positive I am right, quoth Dr. Slop.]
    »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.«
    [I defy him, without an assistant, quoth Dr. Slop.]
    »In other matters we may be deceived by false appearances; and, as the Wise
Man complains, 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. 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 plann'd
before her.«
    [The language is good, and I declare Trim reads very well, quoth my father.]
    »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 trust, as the Apostle intimates, - but a matter of certainty and fact,
that the conscience is good, and that the man must be good also.«
    [Then the Apostle is altogether in the wrong, I suppose, quoth Dr. Slop, and
the Protestant divine is in the right. Sir, have patience, replied my father,
for I think it will presently appear that St. Paul and the Protestant divine are
both of an opinion. - As nearly so, quoth Dr. Slop, as East is to West; - but
this, continued he, lifting both hands, comes from the liberty of the press.
    It is no more, at the worst, replied my uncle Toby, than the liberty of the
pulpit; for it does not appear that the sermon is printed, or ever likely to be.
    Go on, Trim, quoth my father.]
    Another is sordid,
    [Sterne: The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, S. 190.
Digitale Bibliothek Band 57: Operntexte von Monteverdi bis Strauss, S. 191 (vgl.
Sterne-Tristram Shandy, S. 97)]
    »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 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 endow'd 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 WIT disdain to take a
bribe in it; - or was asham'd to show its face as an advocate for an
unwarrantable enjoyment. - Or, lastly, were we assured, that INTEREST stood
always unconcern'd whilst the cause was hearing, - and that passion never got
into the judgment-seat, and pronounc'd 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 esteem'd 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.
    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
hypocondriack cases, we may safely pronounce upon it, that there is always
sufficient grounds for the accusation.
    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 has 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.
    A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his principles; -
exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall 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.
    Alas! CONSCIENCE had something else to do, all this time, than break in upon
him; as Elijah reproached the God Baal, -- this domestick God was either
talking, or pursuing, or was in a journey, or peradventure he slept and could
not be awoke.
    Perhaps HE was gone out in company with HONOUR to fight a duel; - to pay off
some debt at play; -- or dirty annuity, the bargain of his lust: Perhaps
CONSCIENCE all this time was engaged at home, talking loud against petty
larceny, and executing vengeance upon some such puny crimes as his fortune and
rank in life secured him against all temptation of committing; so that he lives
as merrily,« [if he was of our church tho', quoth Dr. Slop, 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.«
    [All this is impossible with us, quoth Dr. Slop, 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. Slop, (struck a little with my
father's frank acknowledgement) - that a man in the Romish 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, answer'd
Dr. Slop, he would be denied the benefits of the last sacraments. -- Pray how
many have you in all, said my uncle Toby, - for I always forget? -- Seven,
answered Dr. Slop. - Humph! -- said my uncle Toby; -- tho' not accented as a
note of acquiescence, -- but as an interjection of that particular species of
surprise, when a man, in looking into a drawer, finds more of a thing than he
expected. - Humph! replied my uncle Toby. Dr. Slop, who had an ear, understood
my uncle Toby as well as if he had wrote a whole volume against the seven
sacraments. -- Humph! replied Dr. Slop, (stating my uncle Toby's 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 Toby. -- Are there not seven wonders of the world? -- Seven
days of creation? -- Seven planets? -- Seven plagues? -- That there are, quoth
my father, with a most affected gravity. But pri'thee, continued he, go on with
the rest of thy characters, Trim.]
    »Another is sordid, unmerciful,« (here Trim 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 Trim, I think this a viler man than the
other.]
    »Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such occasions? - No; thank
God there is no occasion; 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.
    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.
    When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look back upon this black
account, and state it over again with his conscience, -- CONSCIENCE looks into
the STATUTES at LARGE; - 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 Cases and Reports
so strongly on all sides, -- that it is not preaching can dispossess it of its
hold.«
    [Here Corporal Trim and my uncle Toby exchanged looks with each other. -
Aye, - aye, Trim! quoth my uncle Toby, shaking his head, -- these are but sorry
fortifications, Trim. -- O! very poor work, answered Trim, to what your Honour
and I make of it. -- The character of this last man, said Dr. Slop, interrupting
Trim, is more detestable than all the rest; -- and seems to have been taken from
some pettifogging Lawyer amongst you: -- Amongst us, a man's conscience could
not possibly continue so long blinded; -- three times in a year, at least, he
must go to confession. Will that restore it to sight, quoth my uncle Toby? -- Go
on, Trim, quoth my father, or Obadiah will have got back before thou hast got to
the end of thy sermon; -- 'tis a very short one, replied Trim. - I wish it was
longer, quoth my uncle Toby, for I like it hugely. -- Trim went on.]
    »A fourth man shall want even this refuge; -- shall break through all this
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 this 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.
    Of this the common instance 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.
    Let him consider in how different a degree of detestation, numbers of wicked
actions stand there, 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 dress'd 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, appear, at once, naked and deformed,
surrounded with all the true circumstances of folly and dishonour.
    When David surprised Saul 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 Uriah, 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 Nathan 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.
    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.
    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?
    Let CONSCIENCE 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. Slop fell asleep] »thou wilt have confidence towards
God; - 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.
    Blessed is the man, indeed then, as the author of the book of Ecclesiasticus
expresses it, who is not prick'd with the multitude of his sins: Blessed is the
man whose heart hath not condemn'd him; whether he be rich, or whether he be
poor, if he have a good heart (a heart thus guided and informed) he shall at all
times rejoice in a cheerful countenance; his mind shall tell him more than seven
watch-men that sit above upon a tower on high.« -- [A tower has no strength,
quoth my uncle Toby, 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 clauses and restrictions put
together, which law-makers are forced to multiply: -- Forced, 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.«
    [I see plainly, said my father, that this sermon has been composed to be
preach'd at the Temple, -- or at some Assize. -- I like the reasoning, -- and am
sorry that Dr. Slop 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. Paul
in the least; -- nor has there been, brother, the least difference between them.
-- A great matter, if they had differed, replied my uncle Toby, -- the best
friends in the world may differ sometimes. -- True, - brother Toby, quoth my
father, shaking hands with him, - we'll fill our pipes, brother, and then Trim
shall go on.
    Well, - what dost thou think of it? said my father, speaking to Corporal
Trim, as he reach'd his tobacco-box.
    I think, answered the Corporal, that the seven watch-men upon the tower,
who, I suppose, are all sentinels 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 sentinels, added the Corporal, are as good as twenty. -
I have been a commanding officer myself in the Corps de Garde a hundred times,
continued Trim, rising an inch higher in his figure, as he spoke, - and all the
time I had the honour to serve his Majesty King William, in relieving the most
considerable posts, I never left more than two in my life. - Very right, Trim,
quoth my uncle Toby; -- but you do not consider, Trim, that the towers, in
Solomon's days, were not such things as our bastions, flank'd and defended by
other works; - this, Trim, was an invention since Solomon's 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 cover'd-ways and counterscarps
pallisadoed along it, to guard against a Coup de main: - So that the seven men
upon the tower were a party, I dare say, from the Corps de Garde, 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 between my uncle Toby and Corporal Trim 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 Trim to read on. He read on as follows:]
    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 tables, even in imagination (tho' the attempt is often made in
practice) without breaking and mutually destroying them both.
    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.
    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.
    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 stress.
    I will illustrate this by an example.
    I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in,« [There
is no need, cried Dr. Slop, (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.
    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.
    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 lay
at the mercy of HONOUR, or some such capricious principle. - Strait security for
two of my most valuable blessings! - my property and my life.
    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.
    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 that such a man, thro' force of this delusion, generally looks
down with spiritual pride upon every other man who has less affectation of
piety, - tho', perhaps, ten times more moral honesty than himself.
    This likewise is a sore evil under the sun; 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 Romish church;« -
[Well, what can you make of that, cried Dr. Slop?] - »see what scenes of
cruelty, murders, rapines, bloodshed,« [They may thank their own obstinacy,
cried Dr. Slop] »have all been sanctified by a religion not strictly governed by
morality.
    In how many kingdoms of the world,« [Here Trim 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.]
    In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading sword of this misguided
saint-errant spared neither age, or merit, or sex, or condition? - and, as he
fought under the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice and
humanity, he show'd none; mercilessly trampled upon both, -- heard neither the
cries of the unfortunate, nor pitied their distresses.«
    [I have been in many a battle, an' please your Honour, quoth Trim, 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. Slop, looking towards Trim with
something more contempt than the Corporal's honest heart deserved. - What do you
know, friend, about this battle you talk of? -- I know, replied Trim, that I
never refused quarter in my life to any man who cried out for it; - but to a
woman or a child, continued Trim, before I would level my musket at them, I
would lose my life a thousand times. -- Here's a crown for thee, Trim, to drink
with Obadiah to-night, quoth my uncle Toby, and I'll give Obadiah another too. -
God bless your Honour, replied Trim, - I had rather these poor women and
children had it. -- Thou art an honest fellow, quoth my uncle Toby. -- My father
nodded his head, -- as much as to say, -- and so he is. --
    But pri'thee, Trim, said my father, make an end, - for I see thou hast but a
leaf or two left.]
    Corporal Trim read on.
    It 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.
    To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the Prisons of the
inquisition.« [God help my poor brother Tom.] - »Behold Religion, with Mercy and
Justice chained down under her feet, - there sitting ghastly upon a black
tribunal, propp'd up with racks and instruments of torment. Hark! - Hark! what a
piteous groan!« [Here Trim's face turned as pale as ashes.] »See the melancholy
wretch who utter'd 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 Trim,
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 Trim in a most passionate
exclamation, dropping the sermon upon the ground, and clapping his hands
together - I fear 'tis poor Tom. My father's and my uncle Toby's hearts yearn'd
with sympathy for the poor fellow's distress, - even Slop himself acknowledged
pity for him. - Why, Trim, said my father, this is not a history, - 'tis a
sermon thou art reading; - pri'thee begin the sentence again.] - »Behold this
helpless victim deliver'd up to his tormentors, - his body so wasted with sorrow
and confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it suffers.
    Observe the last movement of that horrid engine!« [I would rather face a
cannon, quoth Trim, 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 Portugal.] - »'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 Trim, for all this
world; - I fear, an' please your Honours, all this is in Portugal, where my poor
brother Tom is. I tell thee, Trim, again, quoth my father, 'tis not an
historical account, - 'tis a description. - 'Tis only a description, honest man,
quoth Slop, there's not a word of truth in it. - That's another story, replied
my father. - However, as Trim reads it with so much concern, - 'tis cruelty to
force him to go on with it. - Give me hold of the sermon, Trim, - I'll finish it
for thee, and thou may'st go. I must stay and hear it too, replied Trim, if your
Honour will allow me; - tho' I would not read it myself for a Colonel's pay. --
Poor Trim! quoth my uncle Toby. My father went on.]
    »- Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretch'd, - 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 led back
to his cell!« [Then, thank God, however, quoth Trim, they have not killed him] -
»See him dragg'd 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
Trim, - he is out of his pain, - and they have done their worst at him. - O
Sirs! -- Hold your peace, Trim, said my father, going on with the sermon, lest
Trim should incense Dr. Slop, - we shall never have done at this rate.]
    »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, - By their
fruits ye shall know them.
    I will add no farther to the length of this sermon, than, by two or three
short and independent rules deducible from it.
    First, 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 CREED. 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.
    Secondly, 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 against his
stomach; - a present want of appetite being generally the true cause of both.
    In a word, - trust that man in nothing, who has not a CONSCIENCE in every
thing.
    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
Asiatick Cadi, according to the ebbs and flows of his own passions, - but like a
British judge in this land of liberty and good sense, who makes no new law, but
faithfully declares that law which he knows already written.«
 
                                     Finis.
 
Thou hast read the sermon extremely well, Trim, quoth my father. - If he had
spared his comments, replied Dr. Slop, he would have read it much better. I
should have read it ten times better, Sir, answered Trim, but that my heart was
so full. - That was the very reason, Trim, 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. Slop, 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. Slop) I maintain it, that the eloquence of our
pulpits, with such subjects to inflame it, - would be a model for the whole
world: - But, alas! continued my father, and I own it, Sir, with sorrow, that,
like French 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 dramatic, -- 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. Slop. - I know that very well, said
my father, - but in a tone and manner which disgusted Dr. Slop, full as much as
his assent, simply, could have pleased him. -- But in this, added Dr. Slop, 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 Toby, - who's can this be? - How could it get into my Stevinus? A
man must be as great a conjurer as Stevinus, 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.
    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 argment a priori could prove such a
thing to a philosophic mind, That it was Yorick's and no one's else: -- It was
proved to be so a posteriori, the day after, when Yorick sent a servant to my
uncle Toby's house to enquire after it.
    It seems that Yorick, who was inquisitive after all kinds of knowledge, had
borrowed Stevinus of my uncle Toby, and had carelessly popp'd his sermon, as
soon as he had made it, into the middle of Stevinus; and, by an act of
forgetfulness, to which he was ever subject, he had sent Stevinus home, and his
sermon to keep him company.
    Ill-fated sermon! Thou wast lost, after this recovery of thee, a second
time, dropp'd thro' an unsuspected fissure in thy master's pocket, down into a
treacherous and a tatter'd 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 MANES till this very
moment, that I tell the world the story.
    Can the reader believe, that this sermon of Yorick's was preached at an
assize, in the cathedral of York, 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 Yorick's death. - Yorick, indeed, was never better served in his life! --
but it was a little hard to male-treat him after and plunder him after he was
laid in his grave.
    However, as the gentleman who did it was in perfect charity with Yorick, -
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 impell'd by two reasons, which I
cannot withstand.
    The first is, That, in doing justice, I may give rest to Yorick's ghost; -
which, as the country people, - and some others, believe, -- still walks.
    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 Yorick,
and this sample of his sermons is liked, - that there are now in the possession
of the Shandy family, as many as will make a handsome volume, at the world's
service, -- and much good may they do it.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

Obadiah gain'd 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 Trim went out of the room.
    It is now proper, I think, quoth Dr. Slop, (clearing up his looks) as we are
in a condition to be of some service to Mrs. Shandy, to send up stairs to know
how she goes on.
    I have ordered, answered my father, the old midwife to come down to us upon
the least difficulty; -- for you must know, Dr. Slop, 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, en Soveraines, in
whose hands, and in what fashion, they choose to undergo it.
    They are in the right of it, - quoth my uncle Toby. But, Sir, replied Dr.
Slop, not taking notice of my uncle Toby's opinion, but turning to my father, -
they had better govern in other points; - and a father of a family, who wished
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 any thing, replied Dr. Slop. -- I beg your pardon, - answered my
uncle Toby. -- Sir, replied Dr. Slop, 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 foetus, -- 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 Toby, you had seen what prodigious armies we had in Flanders.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

I have dropp'd the curtain over this scene for a minute, -- to remind you of one
thing, -- and to inform you of another.
    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 'it would come in pat hereafter, 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.
    When these two things are done, - the curtain shall be drawn up again, and
my uncle Toby, my father, and Dr. Slop shall go on with their discourse, without
any more interruption.
    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 point previous 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 slipper'd 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.
    - Mr. Shandy, 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 lay 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
should always turn the balance, will have no weight at all. - Knowledge, like
matter, he would affirm, was divisible in infinitum; - 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
wing, - as in the disk of the sun, the moon, and all the stars of heaven put
together.
    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 sapp'd as estimators had reported.
    You cry out, he would say, we are a ruined, undone people. - Why? - he would
ask, making use of the sorites or syllogism of Zeno and Chrysippus, 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.
    '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) - but error, Sir, creeps in thro' the minute holes, and
small crevices, which human nature leaves unguarded.
    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:
    Amongst the many and excellent reasons, with which my father had urged my
mother to accept of Dr. Slop's assistance preferably to that of the old woman,
-- there was one of a very singular nature; which, when he had done arguing the
matter 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 walk'd
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 head-piece, that he
cannot hang up a single inference within side of it, to save his soul from
destruction.
    This argument, tho' 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.
    My father set out upon the strength of these two following axioms:
    First, That an ounce of a man's own wit, was worth a tun of other people's;
and,
    Secondly, (Which, by the bye, was the ground- of the first axiom, - tho' it
comes last) - That every man's wit must come from every man's own soul, - and no
other body's.
    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
organization 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.
    Now, from the best accounts he had been able to get of this matter, he was
satisfied it could not be where Des Cartes had fixed it, upon the top of the
pineal gland of the brain; which, as he philosophised, form'd 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 Toby, who rescued him out of it, by a
story he told him of a Walloon Officer at the battle of Landen, who had one part
of his brain shot away by a musket-ball, -- and another part of it taken out
after by a French surgeon; and, after all, recovered, and did his duty very well
without it.
    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.
    As for that certain very thin, subtle and very fragrant juice which
Coglionissimo Borri, the great Milaneze physician, affirms, in a letter to
Bartholine, 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
Metheglingius, being called the Animus, the other the Anima); - as for this
opinion, I say, of Borri, - 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 Anima, or even the Animus, taking up her residence, and sitting dabbling,
like a tad-pole, 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, shock'd his
imagination; he would scarce give the doctrine a hearing.
    What, therefore, seem'd 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 some-where about the medulla oblongata,
wherein it was generally agreed by Dutch anatomists, that all the minute nerves
from all the organs of the seven senses concentered, like streets and winding
alleys, into a square.
    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 Shandean 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 net-work and
texture in the cerebellum itself; which opinion he favoured.
    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 Causa sine quâ non, 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 havoc 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 part foremost.
    -- This requires explanation.
    My father, who dipp'd into all kinds of books, upon looking into Lithopædus
Senonesis de Partu difficili4, published by Adrianus Smelvogt, 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 the
woman's efforts, which, in strong labour-pains, was equal, upon an average, to a
weight of 470 pounds averdupois 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 havoc and destruction must this make in the infinitely fine and
tender texture of the cerebellum! -- Or if there is such a juice as Borri
pretends, -- is it not enough to make the clearest liquor in the world both
feculent and mothery?
    But how great was his apprehension, when he further understood, that this
force, acting upon the very vertex of the head, not only injured the brain
itself or cerebrum, - but that it necessarily squeez'd and propell'd 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 tatter'd 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.
    But when my father read on, and was let into the secret, that when a child
was turn'd topsy-turvy, which was easy for an operator to do, and was extracted
by the feet; - that instead of the cerebrum being propell'd towards the
cerebellum, the cerebellum, on the contrary, was propell'd simply towards the
cerebrum where it could do no manner of hurt: -- By heavens! cried he, the world
is in a conspiracy to drive out what little wit God has given us, - and the
professors of the obstetrick art are listed 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?
    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.
    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 observation of drivellers and monstrous heads, -
showing, a priori, it could not be otherwise, - unless * * * * I don't know
what. It wonderfully explain'd and accounted for the acumen of the Asiatick
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 sun-shine, etc. - which, for aught he knew, might as well
rarify 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 up to its
spring-head; - show'd 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 organization 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.
    When my father had got so far, - what a blaze of light did the accounts of
the Cæsarian 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 os pubis on
this side, or the os coxcygis on that; -- and, pray, what were the happy
consequences? Why, Sir, your Julius Cæsar, who gave the operation a name; - and
your Hermes Trismegistus, who was born so before ever the operation had a name;
- your Scipio Africanus; your Manlius Torquatus; our Edward the sixth, - who,
had he lived, would have done the same honour to the hypothesis: - These, and
many more, who figur'd high in the annals of fame, - all came side-way, Sir,
into the world.
    This incision of the abdomen and uterus, ran for six weeks together in my
father's head; - he had read, and was satisfied, that wounds in the epigastrium,
and those in the matrix, 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.
    This was my father Mr. Shandy's hypothesis; concerning which I have only to
add, that my brother Bobby did as great 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 christen'd, as I told you, but to be born too, when my father was at Epsom,
-- being moreover my mother's first child, - coming into the world with his head
foremost, - 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.
    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.
    Of all men in the world, Dr. Slop was the fittest for my father's purpose; -
for tho' his 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.
    This will account for the coalition betwixt my father and Dr. Slop, in the
ensuing discourse, which went a little hard against my uncle Toby. - 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 Toby 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 show the world how it could happen, that I should have the misfortune to
be called TRISTRAM, in opposition to my father's hypothesis, and the wish of the
whole family, God-fathers 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 before-hand it will be in vain, - for not the sage Alquise, the
magician in Don Belianis of Greece, nor the no less famous Urganda, the
sorceress his wife, (were they alive) could pretend to come within a league of
the truth.
    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.
 
                           End of the Second Volume.
 

                                  Volume III.

            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.
                                                           Joan. Saresberiensis,
                                                               Episcopus Lugdun.
 

                                    Chap. I.

- »I Wish, Dr. Slop,« quoth my uncle Toby (repeating his wish for Dr. Slop a
second time, and with a degree of more zeal and earnestness in his manner of
wishing, than he had wished it at first5) --»I wish, Dr. Slop,« quoth my uncle
Toby, »you had seen what prodigious armies we had in Flanders.«
    My uncle Toby's wish did Dr. Slop 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.
    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 wished at,
instantly to get up upon his legs - and wish the wisher 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.
    This will be fully illustrated to the world in my chapter of wishes. --
    Dr. Slop 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. Slop, 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 perplexed vacuity of eye which puzzled souls generally stare
with, -- first in my uncle Toby's 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 Toby, so took up the
discourse as follows.
 

                                   Chap. II.

- »What prodigious armies you had in Flanders!«
    Brother Toby, replied my father, taking his wig from off his head with his
right hand, and with his left pulling out a striped India handkerchief from his
right coat pocket, in order to rub his head, as he argued the point with my
uncle Toby. --
    -- Now, in this I think my father was much to blame; and I will give you my
reasons for it.
    Matters of no more seeming consequence in themselves than, »Whether my
father should have taken off his wig with his right hand or with his left,« --
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.
    As my father's India 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, call'd 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.
    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 armpit) - his whole attitude
had been easy - natural - unforced: Reynolds himself, as great and gracefully as
he paints, might have painted him as he sat.
    Now, as my father managed this matter, -- consider what a devil of a figure
my father made of himself.
    - In the latter end of Queen Anne's reign, and in the beginning of the reign
of King George the first - »Coat pockets were cut very low down in the skirt.«
-- 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.
 

                                   Chap. III.

It 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 Toby 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 St. Nicolas; -- 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 Trim, to go and fetch his map of Namur, 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.
    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 Toby dismounted immediately.
    - I did not apprehend your uncle Toby was o'horseback. --
 

                                   Chap. IV.

A man'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 a gum-taffeta,
and the body-lining to it, of a sarcenet or thin persian.
    Zeno, Cleanthes, Diogenes Babylonius, Dyonisius Heracleotes, Antipater,
Panætius and Possidonius amongst the Greeks; - Cato and Varro and Seneca amongst
the Romans; - Pantenus and Clemens Alexandrinus and Montaigne amongst the
Christians; and a score and a half of good honest, unthinking, Shandean 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 outsides 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 'em would have been one button the worse, for
all you had done to them.
    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, it 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 fray'd and
fretted to a thread.
    - 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?
    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 MAY, (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
Toby gave the fly which buzz'd about his nose all dinner time, -- »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.«
 

                                    Chap. V.

Any 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 up into his face, as I told you) he must have redden'd,
pictorically and scientintically speaking, six whole tints and a half, if not a
full octave above his natural colour: -- any man, madam, but my uncle Toby, 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 into
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 - con furia, - like mad. -- Grant
me patience! -- What has con furia, -- con strepito, -- or any other hurlyburly
word whatever to do with harmony?
    Any man, I say, madam, but my uncle Toby, 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 Toby
blamed nothing but the tailor 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.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

- »What prodigious armies you had in Flanders!«
    -- Brother Toby, 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
Toby, the accidents which unavoidably way-lay 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 enough, - little need is there to expose them to
unnecessary ones in their passage to it. -- Are these dangers, quoth my uncle
Toby, 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 Toby, 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 further. -- My uncle Toby instantly withdrew his hand
from off my father's knee, reclined his body gently back in his chair, raised
his head till he could just see the cornish 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 Lillabullero.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

Whilst my uncle Toby was whistling Lillabullero to my father, - Dr. Slop was
stamping, and cursing and damning at Obadiah 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.
    When Dr. Slop's maid delivered the green bays bag, with her master's
instruments in it, to Obadiah, 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 any thing should bolt out in galloping back at the speed Obadiah
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, Obadiah, to make all safe, had twitched and drawn together with all the
strength of his body.
    This answered all that Obadiah 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 Obadiah could not make a trot
of it, but with such a terrible jingle, what with the tire-tête, forceps and
squirt, as would have been enough, had Hymen been taking a jaunt that way, to
have frightened him out of the country; but when Obadiah accelerated this
motion, and from a plain trot assayed to prick his coach-horse into a full
gallop - by heaven! Sir, - the jingle was incredible.
    As Obadiah 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. -- »The
poor fellow, Sir, was not able to hear himself whistle.«
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

As Obadiah loved wind musick preferably to all the instrumental musick 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.
    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.
    As Obadiah's was a mix'd case, -- mark, Sirs, - I say, a mix'd case; for it
was obstretical, - scrip-tical, - squirtical, papistical, - and as far as the
coach-horse was concerned in it, - caball-istical - and only partly musical; -
Obadiah made no scruple of availing himself of the first expedient which
offered; - so taking hold of the bag and instruments, and griping 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 round-abouts
and intricate cross turns, with a hard knot at every intersection or point where
the strings met, - that Dr. Slop must have had three fifths of Job's patience at
least to have unloosed them. - I think in my conscience, that had NATURE been in
one of her nimble moods, and in humour for such a contest -- and she and Dr.
Slop both fairly started together - there is no man living who had seen the bag
with all that Obadiah 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 knots. -- Sport of small accidents, Tristram Shandy! that thou
art, and ever will be! had that trial been made 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.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

Great wits jump: for the moment Dr. Slop cast his eyes upon his bag (which he
had not done till the dispute with my uncle Toby about midwifery put him in mind
of it) - the very same thought occurred. -- 'Tis God's mercy, quoth he, (to
himself) that Mrs. Shandy 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.
Slop's 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.
    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. Slop, unless I make haste, the thing will actually befall me as it is.
 

                                    Chap. X.

In the case of knots, -- 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. Hammond Shandy, -- a little man, -- but of
high fancy: -- he rushed into the duke of Monmouth's 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 bona fide, as Obadiah made his; -
in which there is no quibbling provision made by the duplication and return of
the two ends of the strings through the annulus or noose made by the second
implication of them - to get them slipp'd and undone by -- I hope you apprehend
me.
    In the case of these knots 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 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. Slop 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 deuce
take it! I can make nothing of it either way, cried Dr. Slop. - The trampling
over head near my mother's bed side 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!---psga!---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 blockhead --
    My father had a great respect for Obadiah, 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 offer'd to himself in it.
    Had Dr. Slop 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.
    Small curses, Dr. Slop, 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. Slop. - They are
like sparrow shot, quoth my uncle Toby, (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 surprise, I generally retain so much
presence of mind (right, quoth my uncle Toby) 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. -- »Injuries come only from the
heart,« -- quoth my uncle Toby. For this reason, continued my father, with the
most Cervantick gravity, I have the greatest veneration in the world for that
gentleman, who, in distrust of his own discretion 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 provocations which could possibly happen to him,
- which forms being well consider'd 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. Slop, 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 Toby 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. Slop - the devil take the fellow. - Then answered my father, 'Tis much at
your service, Dr. Slop -- on condition you will read it aloud; -- so rising up
and reaching down a form of excommunication of the church of Rome, a copy of
which, my father (who was curious in his collections) had procured out of the
leger-book of the church of Rochester, writ by ERNULPHUS the bishop - with a
most affected seriousness of look and voice, which might have cajoled ERNULPHUS
himself, - he put it into Dr. Slop's hands. - Dr. Slop 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 Toby whistling Lillabullero, as loud as he
could, all the time.
 

              Textus de Ecclesiâ Roffensi, per Ernulfum Episcopum.

                                   Cap. XXV.

                                Excommunicatio.6

Ex auctoritate Dei omnipotentis, Patris, et Filij, et Spiritus Sancti, et
sanctorum canonum, sanctæque et intemeratæ Virginis Dei genetricis Mariæ,
    ---- Atque omnium coelestium virtutum, angelorum, archangelorum, thronorum,
dominationum, potestatuum, cherubin ac seraphin, &amp; sanctorum patriarchum,
prophetarum, &amp; omnium apostolorum et evangelistarum, &amp; 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, - Excommunicamus, et
anathematizamus hunc/os furem/s, vel hunc/os malefactorem/s, N. N. et a
liminibus sanctæ Dei ecclesiæ sequestramus et æternis suppliciis excruciandus/i,
mancipe/n/tur, 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 lucerna ejus/eorum in secula seculorum nisi respueri/n/t, et ad
satisfactionem veneri/n/t. Amen.
    Maledicat illum/os Deus Pater qui hominem creavit. Maledicat illum/os Dei
Filius qui pro homine passus est. Maledicat illum/os Spiritus Sanctus qui in
baptismo effusus est. Maledicat illum/os sancta crux, quam Christus pro nostrâ
salute hostem triumphans, ascendit.
    Maledicat illum/os sancta Dei genetrix et perpetua Virgo Maria. Maledicat
illum/os sanctus Michael, animarum susceptor sacrarum. Maledicant illum/os omnes
angeli et archangeli, principatus et potestates, omnisque militia coelestis.
    Maledicat illum/os patriarcharum et prophetarum laudabilis numerus.
Maledicat illum/os sanctus Johannes præcursor et Baptista Christi, et sanctus
Petrus, et sanctus Paulus, atque sanctus Andreas, omnesque Christi apostoli,
simul et cæteri discipuli, quatuor quoque evangelistæ, qui sua prædicatione
mundum universum converterunt. Maledicat illum/os cuneus martyrum et confessorum
mirificus, qui Deo bonis operibus placitus inventus est.
    Maledicant illum/os sacrarum virginum chori, quæ mundi vana causa honoris
Christi respuenda contempserunt. Maledicant illum/os omnes sancti qui ab initio
mundi usque in finem seculi Deo dilecti inveniuntur.
    Maledicant illum/os coeli et terra, et omnia sancta in eis manentia.
    Maledictus/i sit/sint ubicunque fueri/n/t, sive in domo, sive in agro, sive
in viâ, sive in semitâ, sive in silvâ, sive in aquâ, sive in ecclesiâ.
    Maledictus/i sit/sint vivendo, moriendo, ----- --- --- --- - --- ----- -----
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- --- --- manducando,
bibendo, esuriendo, sitiendo, jejunando, dormitando, dormiendo, vigilando,
ambulando, stando, sedendo, jacendo, operando, quiescendo, mingendo, cacando,
flebotomando.
    Maledictus/i sit/sint in totis viribus corporis.
    Maledictus/i sit/sint intus et exterius.
    Maledictus/i sit/sint in capillis; maledictus sin/n/t in cerebro.
Maledictus/i sit/sint in vertice, in temporibus, in fronte, in auriculis, in
superciliis, in oculis, in genis, in maxillis, in naribus, in dentibus,
mordacibus, in labris sive molibus, in labiis, in guttere, in humeris, in
harnis, in brachiis, in manubus, in digitus, 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 unguibus.
 
Maledictus sit in totis compagibus membrorum, a vertice capitis, usque ad
plantam pedis -- non sit in eo sanitas.
 
Maledicat illum Christus Filius Dei vivi toto suæ majestatis imperio
 
-- et insurgat adversus illum coelum cum omnibus virtutibus quæ in eo moventur
ad damnandum eum, nisi penituerit et ad satisfactionem venerit. Amen. Fiat,
fiat. Amen.
 



                                   Chap. XI.

 
»By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the
holy canons, and of the undefiled Virgin Mary, mother and patroness of our
Saviour.« I think there is no necessity, quoth Dr. Slop, 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 Shandy 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. Slop did not altogether like it, - but my uncle Toby
offering at that instant to give over whistling, and read it himself to them; --
Dr. Slop thought he might as well read it under the cover of my uncle Toby's
whistling, - as suffer my uncle Toby 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 Toby whistling Lillabullero, though
not quite so loud as before.
    »By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, and of
the undefiled Virgin Mary, 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,« (Obadiah) »be damn'd,« (for tying these knots.) -- »We
excommunicate, and anathematise 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 Dathan and Abiram, 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« (
Obadiah, of the knots which he had tied) »and make satisfaction« (for them.)
Amen.
    »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«
(Obadiah.) - »May the holy cross which Christ, for our salvation triumphing over
his enemies, ascended, - curse him.
    »May the holy and eternal Virgin Mary, mother of God, curse him. - May St.
Michael 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 Flanders, cried my uncle Toby, - but nothing to
this. - For my own part, I could not have a heart to curse my dog so.]
    »May St. John the præ-cursor, 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
martyrs and confessors, who by their holy works are found pleasing to God
Almighty, curse him« (Obadiah.)
    »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,« (Obadiah) »or her,« (or whoever else had a hand in tying these
knots.)
    »May he« (Obadiah) »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 Toby taking the advantage of a minim in the second barr
of his tune, kept whistling one continual note to the end of the sentence -- Dr.
Slop 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.«
    »May he« (Obadiah) »be cursed in all the faculties of his body.«
    »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 foreteeth
and grinders, in his lips, in his throat, in his shoulders, in his wrists, in
his arms, in his hands, in his fingers.«
    »May he be damn'd in his mouth, in his breast, in his heart and purtenance,
down to the very stomach.«
    »May he be cursed in his reins, and in his groin,« (God in heaven forbid,
quoth my uncle Toby) - »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.«
    »May he be cursed in all the joints and articulations of his members, from
the top of his head to the soal of his foot, may there be no soundness in him.«
    »May the Son of the living God, with all the glory of his Majesty« -- [Here
my uncle Toby, throwing back his head, gave a monstrous, long, loud Whew-w-w--
something betwixt the interjectional whistle of Hey day! and the word itself. -
    - By the golden beard of Jupiter - and of Juno, (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 acquatick, - 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 'em) -- all which beards, as Varro
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 stroked 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
Cid Hamet offered his, -- only to have stood by, and heard my uncle Toby's
accompanyment.]
    -- »Curse him,« -- continued Dr. Slop, -- »and may heaven with all the
powers which move therein, rise up against him, curse and damn him« (Obadiah)
»unless he repent and make satisfaction. Amen. So be it, - so be it. Amen.«
    I declare, quoth my uncle Toby, my heart would not let me curse the devil
himself with so much bitterness. -- He is the father of curses, replied Dr.
Slop. -- So am not I, replied my uncle. -- But he is cursed, and damn'd already,
to all eternity, -- replied Dr. Slop.
    I am sorry for it, quoth my uncle Toby.
    Dr. Slop drew up his mouth, and was just beginning to return my uncle Toby
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.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

Now 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.
    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, etc. etc. the whole set of 'em are
so hung round and befetish'd 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
from the coast of Guinea; -- 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.
    -- And how did Garrick speak the soliloquy last night? - Oh, against all
rule, my Lord, - most ungrammatically! betwixt the substantive and the
adjective, which should agree together in number, case and gender, 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!
    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,
etc. my Lord, in my pocket. -- Excellent critic!
    - 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 Bossu's, - 'tis out, my Lord, in every one of its dimensions. --
Admirable connoisseur!
    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 pyramid in any one
group! -- and what a price! -- for there is nothing of the colouring of Titian,
-- the expression of Rubens, - the grace of Raphael, -- the purity of
Dominichino, - the corregiescity of Corregio, - the learning of Poussin, - the
airs of Guido, - the taste of Carrachis, - or the grand contour of Angelo. --
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!
    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.
    Great Apollo! 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 Mercury, with the rules and compasses, if he can be spared, with
my compliments to -- no matter.
    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. Paul's thumb, -- God's
flesh, and God's fish, 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 Ernulphus, 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 -- »G-d damn you.« -- Set it beside Ernulphus's -- »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
Ernulphus cursed, - no part escaped him. - 'Tis true, there is something of a
hardness in his manner, - and, as in Michael Angelo, a want of grace, -- but
then there is such a greatness of gusto! -
    My father, who generally look'd upon every thing in a light very different
from all mankind, - would, after all, never allow this to be an original. -- He
consider'd rather Ernulphus's anathema, as an institute of swearing, in which,
as he suspected, upon the decline of swearing in some milder pontificate,
Ernulphus, by order of the succeeding pope, had with great learning and
diligence collected all the laws of it; -- for the same reason that Justinian in
the decline of the empire, had ordered his chancellor Tribonian to collect the
Roman 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.
    For this reason my father would oft-times affirm, there was not an oath,
from the great and tremendous oath of William the Conqueror, (By the splendour
of God) down to the lowest oath of a scavenger, (Damn your eyes) which was not
to be found in Ernulphus. -- In short, he would add, I defy a man to swear out
of it.
    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.
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

- Bless 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 hat cut her arm -- (and I, my thumb, cried Dr. Slop) and the child is
where it was, continued Susannah, -- 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. Slop. -- There is no need of that, replied Susannah, -- 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.
    Human nature is the same in all professions.
    The midwife had just before been put over Dr. Slop's head. - He had not
digested it. - No, replied Dr. Slop, 'it would be full as proper, if the midwife
came down to me. - I like subordination, quoth my uncle Toby, - and but for it,
after the reduction of Lisle, I know not what might have become of the garrison
of Ghent, in the mutiny for bread, in the year Ten. -- Nor, replied Dr. Slop,
(parodying my uncle Toby's hobby-horsical reflection, though full as
hobby-horsically himself) - do I know, Captain Shandy, 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 application of which, Sir, under this accident of mine, comes in so a
propos, that without it, the cut upon my thumb might have been felt by the
Shandy family, as long as the Shandy family had a name.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

Let us go back to the * * * * * * -- in the last chapter.
    It is a singular stroke of eloquence (at least it was so, when eloquence
flourished at Athens and Rome, and would be so now, did orators wear mantles)
not to mention the name of a thing, when you had the thing about you, in petto,
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 Tully's second
Philippick, -- 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.
    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 stile of
design. -- All which plainly shows, 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 trunk-hose. -- We can conceal nothing under ours, Madam, worth
showing.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

Dr. Slop was within an ace of being an exception to all this argumentation: for
happening to have his green bays bag upon his knees, when he began to parody my
uncle Toby, -- '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 forceps, he
thrust his hand into the bag in order to have them ready to clap in, where your
reverences took so much notice of the * * * * * *, which had he managed, - my
uncle Toby 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 raveline, - Dr. Slop would never have given them up; -- and my uncle
Toby would as soon thought of flying, as taking them by force: but Dr. Slop
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 forceps, his forceps unfortunately drew out the squirt along with it.
    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 Toby's side. -- »Good God!« cried my uncle Toby, »are children brought
into the world with a squirt?«
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

Upon my honour, Sir, you have tore every bit of the skin quite off the back of
both my hands with your forceps, cried my uncle Toby, - and you have crush'd all
my knuckles into the bargain with them, to a jelly. 'Tis your own fault, said
Dr. Slop, -- 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 Toby.
-- Then the points of my forceps have not been sufficiently arm'd, or the rivet
wants closing - or else the cut on my thumb has made me a little awkward, -- 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. Slop. I
maintain it, said my uncle Toby, it would have broke the cerebellum, (unless
indeed the skull had been as hard as a granado) and turned it all into a perfect
posset. Pshaw! replied Dr. Slop, 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 she. - I rather wish you would begin that way,
quoth my father.
    Pray do, added my uncle Toby.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

- And 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. Because, continued Dr. Slop, (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 * * * * * * * *.
    -- What the possibility was, Dr. Slop whispered very low to my father, and
then to my uncle Toby. -- 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.
    -- It is morally impossible the reader should understand this, -- 'tis
enough Dr. Slop understood it; -- so taking the green bays bag in his hand, with
the help of Obadiah's pumps, he tripp'd pretty nimbly, for a man of his size,
across the room to the door, -- and from the door was shown the way, by the good
old midwife, to my mother's apartment.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

It is two hours, and ten minutes, - and no more, -- cried my father, looking at
his watch, since Dr. Slop and Obadiah arrived, -- and I know not how it happens,
brother Toby, - but to my imagination it seems almost an age.
    -- Here -- pray, Sir, take hold of my cap,- nay, take the bell along with
it, and my pantoufles too. --
    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.
    Though my father said, »he knew not how it happen'd,« -- 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 Toby a clear account of the matter by a metaphysical
dissertation upon the subject of duration and its simple modes, in order to show
my uncle Toby, by what mechanism and mensurations in the brain it came to pass,
that the rapid succession of their ideas, and the eternal scampering of
discourse from one thing to another, since Dr. Slop 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.«
    - 'Tis owing, entirely, quoth my uncle Toby, to the succession of our ideas.
    My father, who had an itch in common with all philosophers, of reasoning
upon every thing 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 Toby, who
(honest man!) generally took every thing as it happened; -- and who, of all men
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 pick'd 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
INFINITY, PRESCIENCE, LIBERTY, NECESSITY, and so forth, upon whose desperate and
unconquerable theories, so many fine heads have been turned and crack'd, - never
did my uncle Toby's the least injury at all; my father knew it, - and was no
less surprised, than he was disappointed with my uncle's fortuitous solution.
    Do you understand the theory of that affair? replied my father.
    Not I, quoth my uncle.
    -- But you have some ideas, said my father, of what you talk about. --
    No more than my horse, replied my uncle Toby.
    Gracious heaven! cried my father, looking upwards, and clasping his two
hands together, - there is a worth in thy honest ignorance, brother Toby, -
'twere almost a pity to exchange it for a knowledge. -- But I'll tell thee. --
    To understand what time is aright, without which we never can comprehend
infinity, insomuch as one is a portion of the other, -- we ought seriously to
sit down and consider what idea it is we have of duration, so as to give a
satisfactory account, how we came by it. - What is that to any body? quoth my
uncle Toby.7 For if you will turn your eyes inwards upon your mind, continued my
father, and observe attentively, you will perceive, 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
any thing 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 - You puzzle me to death, cried my uncle
Toby. -
    -- 'Tis owing to this, replied my father, that in our computations of time,
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 succession of our ideas be of any use or service to us at all.
    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 Toby. - 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
Toby, mine are like a smoak-jack. -- Then, brother Toby, I have nothing more to
say to you upon the subject, said my father.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

- What a conjuncture was here lost! -- My father in one of his best explanatory
moods, - in eager pursuit of a metaphysics point into the very regions where
clouds and thick darkness would soon have encompassed it about; -- my uncle Toby
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
tombstone of Lucian -- if it is in being, -- if not, why then, by his ashes! by
the ashes of my dear Rabelais, and dearer Cervantes, -- my father and my uncle
Toby's discourse upon TIME and ETERNITY, - 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 Ontologic treasury, of such a jewel, as no coalition of
great occasions and great men, are ever likely to restore to it again.
 

                                   Chap. XX.

Tho' my father persisted in not going on with the discourse, - yet he could not
get my uncle Toby's 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 steadfastly 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.
    As for my uncle Toby, his smoak-jack had not made a dozen revolutions,
before he fell asleep also. -- Peace be with them both. -- Dr. Slop is engaged
with the midwife, and my mother above stairs. - Trim is busy in turning an old
pair of jack-boots into a couple of mortars to be employed in the siege of
Messina 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.
 

                              The Author's Preface

No, 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.
    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.
    Now, Agalastes (speaking dispraisingly) sayeth, That there may be some wit
in it, for aught he knows, -- but no judgment at all. And Triptolemus and
Phutatorius agreeing thereto, ask, How is it possible there should? for that wit
and judgment in this world never go together; inasmuch as they are two
operations differing from each other as wide as east is from west. - So, says
Locke, - so are farting and hickuping, say I. But in answer to this, Didius the
great church lawyer, in his code de fartandi et illustrandi fallaciis, 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.
    Now, my dear Anti-Shandeans, and thrice able critics, 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; -
Monopolos my politician, - Didius, my counsel; Kysarcius, my friend; -
Phutatorius, my guide; - Gastripheres, the preserver of my life; Somnolentius,
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,
    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 every thing 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 hinderance, be
poured down warm as each of us could bear it, - scum and sediment an all; (for I
would not have a drop lost) into these veral 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 replenished, saturated and fill'd up therewith, that no more, would
it save a man's life, could possibly be got either in or out.
    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
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 amongst us. - Chaste stars! what biting and scratching, and
what a racket and a clatter we should make, what with breaking of heads, and
rapping of knuckles, and hitting of sore places, -- there would be no such thing
as living for us.
    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, -- 'it would 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.
    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 wit and judgment, which I have so bountifully
wished both for your worships and myself, - there is but a certain quantum
stored up for us all, for the use and behove of the whole race of mankind; and
such small modicums of 'em are only sent forth into this wide world, circulating
here and there in one by 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
states, and populous empires.
    Indeed there is one thing to be considered, that in Nova Zembla, North
Lapland, and in all those cold and dreary tracts of the globe, which lie more
directly under the arctick and antarctic 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 every thing which belongs to them, are as
frigid as the zone itself; - there the least quantity of judgment imaginable
does the business, - and of wit, - there is a total and an absolute saving, -
for as 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
plentiful a lack 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 Norway, --
crossing over Swedeland, if you please, through the small triangular province of
Angermania to the lake of Bothnia; coasting along it through east and west
Bothnia, down to Carelia, and so on, through all those states and provinces
which border upon the far side of the Gulf of Finland, and the north east of the
Baltick, up to Petersbourg, and just stepping into Ingria; -- then stretching
over directly from thence through the north parts of the Russian empire -
leaving Siberia a little upon the left hand till we get into the very heart of
Russian and Asiatick Tartary.
    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 household 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 ballance betwixt
them, and I am satisfied moreover they would want occasions to put them to use.
    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 height
of our wit and the depth of our judgment, you see, are exactly proportioned to
the length and breadth of our necessities, - and accordingly, we have them sent
down amongst us in such a flowing kind of decent and creditable plenty, that no
one thinks he has any cause to complain.
    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 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.
    It is by these observations, and a wary reasoning by analogy in that kind of
argumentative process, which Suidas calls dialectick induction, - that I draw
and set up this position as most true and veritable.
    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 every thing 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 How d'ye 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 stinks, - others horizontally with their tails into
kennels. Here one half of a learned profession tilting full butt 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.
    In the foreground of this picture, a statesman turning the political wheel,
like a brute, the wrong way round - against the stream of corruption, - by
heaven! - instead of with it.
    In this corner, a son of the divine Esculapius, 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 of a mangled victim to beg his forgiveness; -
offering a fee, - instead of taking one.
    In that spacious HALL, a coalition of the gown, from all the barrs of it,
driving a damn'd, dirty, vexatious cause before them, with all their might and
main, the wrong way; -- kicking it out of the great doors, instead of, in, --
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 John o'Nokes
his nose, could stand in Tom o'Stiles his face, without a trespass, or not, -
rashly determined by them in five and twenty minutes, which, with the cautious
pro's and con's 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
ACTION should be, with all the stratagems practicable therein, - such as feints,
- forced marches, - surprizes, - ambuscades, - mask- and a thousand other
strokes of generalship which consist in catechising 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.
    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, 'it would be as much as my life was worth, to deject and contrist
myself with so sad 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 wit are reported to be men of most judgment. -- But
mark, - I say, reported to be, -- 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.
    This by the help of the observations already premised, and I hope already
weighed and perpended by your reverences and worships, I shall forthwith make
appear.
    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 readers conception, -- when in all likelihood, if you had looked
about, you might have seen something standing, or hanging up, which would have
cleared the point at once, - »for what hinderance, 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 oyl 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 fasten'd
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.
    I enter now directly upon the point.
    -- Here stands wit, -- and there stands judgment, 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.
    -- You see, they are the highest and most ornamental parts of its frame, --
as wit and judgment are of ours, -- and like them too, indubitably both made and
fitted to go together, in order as we say in all such cases of duplicated
embellishments, -- to answer one another.
    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 pinacle 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 further 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.
    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 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 amongst 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 steadfastly 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.
    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 gravities, 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 perrywigs, had they not raised a hue and cry at the same time
against the lawful owners.
    I need not tell your worships, that this was done with so much cunning and
artifice, - that the great Locke, 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 poor wits 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 cooly, 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.
    This has been made the Magna Charta 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.
    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 the one general declaration -- That I have no
abhorrence whatever, nor do I detest and abjure either great wigs or long
beards, -- any further than when I see they are bespoke and let grow on purpose
to carry on this selfsame imposture - for any purpose, - peace be with them! -
mark only, - I write not for them.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

Every 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 rhetoric 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 oyl with a feather, and a
smart stroke of a hammer, had saved his honour for ever.
    -- 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 oyl) 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 enough, 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?
    By all that is good and virtuous! if there are three drops of oyl to be got,
and a hammer to be found within ten miles of Shandy-Hall, - the parlour-door
hinge shall be mended this reign.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

When corporal Trim 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.
    Now next to the moral lesson I had in view in mentioning the affair of
hinges, I had a speculative consideration arising out of it, and it is this.
    Had the parlour-door open'd and turn'd upon its hinges, as a door should do
--
    - 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 Trim's peeping in: the moment, he had
beheld my father and my uncle Toby fast asleep, -- the respectfulness of his
carriage was such, he would have retired as silent as death, and left them both
in their armchairs, 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.
    »When things move upon bad hinges, an' please your lordships, how can it be
otherwise?«
    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 Trim, but two
mortars I am bringing in. -- They shan't make a clatter with them here, cried my
father hastily. -- If Dr. Slop has any drugs to pound, let him do it in the
kitchen. -- May it please your honour, cried Trim, - they are two mortar-pieces
for a siege next summer, which I have been making out of a pair of jack-boots,
which Obadiah 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 Toby, -- they were hereditary. Then I
fear, quoth my uncle Toby, Trim has cut off the entail. -- I have only cut off
the tops, an' please your honour, cried Trim. - I hate perpetuities 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 Roger Shandy wore them at the battle of Marston-Moor. - I
declare I would not have taken ten pounds for them. -- I'll pay you the money,
brother Shandy, quoth my uncle Toby, 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 soul. --
    Brother Toby, replied my father, altering his tone, you care not what money
you dissipate and throw away, provided, continued he, 'tis but upon a SIEGE. -
Have I not a hundred and twenty pounds a year, besides my half-pay? cried my
uncle Toby. -- What is that, replied my father, hastily, - to ten pounds for a
pair of jack-boots? -- twelve guineas for your pontoons; -- half as much for
your Dutch-draw-bridge; - to say nothing of the train of little brass-artillery
you bespoke last week, with twenty other preparations for the siege of Messina;
believe me, dear brother Toby, 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 expenses than you were first
aware of, -- and take my word, - dear Toby, 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 Toby, so long as we know 'tis for the good of the nation.-
    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 Trim, -- and the
generous (tho' hobby-horsical) gallantry of my uncle Toby, brought him into
perfect good humour with them in an instant.
    Generous souls! - God prosper you both, and your mortar-pieces too, quoth my
father to himself.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

All is quiet and hush, cried my father, at least above stairs, - I hear not one
foot stirring. -- Prithee, Trim, who is in the kitchen? There is no one soul in
the kitchen, answered Trim, making a low bow as he spoke, except Dr. Slop. --
Confusion! cried my father, (getting up upon his legs a second time) -- not one
single thing has 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, I thought Dr. Slop 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 Trim, in making a bridge. -- 'Tis very
obliging in him, quoth my uncle Toby; -- pray give my humble service to Dr.
Slop, Trim, and tell him I thank him heartily.
    You must know, my uncle Toby mistook the bridge as widely as my father
mistook the mortars; -- but to understand how my uncle Toby 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 Toby aright, I must give you some account of an adventure of Trim's,
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 Toby's amours with widow Wadman, in
which corporal Trim was no mean actor, - or else in the middle of his and my
uncle Toby's 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.
    - What would your worships have me to do in this case?
    - Tell it, Mr. Shandy, by all means. -- You are a fool, Tristram, if you do.
    O ye POWERS! (for powers ye are, and great ones too) - which enable mortal
man to tell a story worth the hearing, - that kindly show 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 shade, - and whereabouts
he is to throw his light! -- Ye, who preside over this vast empire of
biographical free-booters, and see how many scrapes and plunges your subjects
hourly fall into; - will you do one thing?
    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.
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

Tho' the shock my uncle Toby received the year after the demolition of Dunkirk,
in his affair with widow Wadman, had fixed him in a resolution, never more to
think of the sex, -- or of aught which belonged to it; - yet corporal Trim had
made no such bargain with himself. Indeed in my uncle Toby's 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 Trim's case there was a
concurrence of nothing in the world, but of him and Bridget 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 Toby 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 Toby sat down before the mistress, - corporal Trim
incontinently took ground before the maid.
    Now, my dear friend Garrick, 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 play-wrights, and opificers of chit chat have ever since been
working upon Trim's and my uncle Toby's pattern. - I care not what Aristotle, or
Pacuvius, or Bossu, or Ricaboni say, - (though I never read one of them) --
there is not a greater difference between a single-horse chair and madam
Pompadour's vis à vis, 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 or there.
    After a series of attacks and repulses in a course of nine months on my
uncle Toby's quarter, a most minute account of every particular of which shall
be given in its proper place, my uncle Toby, honest man! found it necessary to
draw off his forces, and raise the siege somewhat indignantly.
    Corporal Trim, 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 met Bridget 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 ribban, -- and now and then, though
never but when it could be done with decorum, would give Bridget a --
    Precisely in this situation, did these things stand for five years; that is,
from the demolition of Dunkirk in the year 13, to the latter end of my uncle
Toby's campaign in the year 18, which was about six or seven weeks before the
time I'm speaking of. - When Trim, as his custom was, after he had put my uncle
Toby to bed, going down one moon-shiny night to see that every thing was right
at his fortifications, -- in the lane separated from the bowling-green with
flowering shrubs and holly, - he espied his Bridget.
    As the corporal thought there was nothing in the world so well worth showing
as the glorious works which he and my uncle Toby had made, Trim 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 reached my father's, with this untoward circumstance along with it,
that my uncle Toby's curious draw-bridge, constructed and painted after the
Dutch fashion, and which went quite across the ditch, - was broke down, and some
how or other crush'd all to pieces that very night.
    My father, as you have observed, had no great esteem for my uncle Toby's
hobby-horse, - he thought it the most ridiculous horse that ever gentleman
mounted, and indeed unless my uncle Toby vexed him about it, could never think
of it once, without smiling at it, -- so that it never could 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 Toby! my father would say, do tell us seriously how this affair of the
bridge happened. -- How can you tease me so much about it? my uncle Toby would
reply, - I have told it you twenty times, word for word as Trim told it me. -
Prithee, how was it then, corporal? my father would cry, turning to Trim. - It
was a mere misfortune, an' please your honour, -- I was showing Mrs. Bridget our
fortifications, and in going too near the edge of the fossè, I unfortunately
slip'd in. -- Very well Trim! my father would cry, - (smiling mysteriously, and
giving a nod, -- but without interrupting him) -- and being link'd fast, an'
please your honour, arm in arm with Mrs. Bridget, I dragg'd her after me, by
means of which she fell backwards soss against the bridge, -- and Trim's foot,
(my uncle Toby 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 Toby would add, that the poor fellow did not break his leg. - Ay truly! my
father would say, -- a limb is soon broke, brother Toby, 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.
    At other times, but especially when my uncle Toby 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 BATTERING-RAMS of the ancients, - the VINEA which Alexander made use of at
the siege of Tyre. -- He would tell my uncle Toby of the CATAPULTÆ of the
Syrians 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 BALLISTA, which Marcellinus makes so much rout about,
- the terrible effects of the PYRABOLI, - which cast fire, - the danger of the
TEREBRA and SCORPIO, which cast javelins. - But what are these, he would say, to
the destructive machinery of corporal Trim? - Believe me, brother Toby, no
bridge, or bastion, or sally port, that ever was constructed in this world, can
hold out against such artillery.
    My uncle Toby would never attempt any defence against the force of this
ridicule, but that of redoubling the vehemence of smoking 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 Toby 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 pull'd out of his pocket. -- The
affectionate and endearing manner in which my uncle Toby 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

The draw-bridge being held irreparable, Trim was ordered directly to set about
another, -- but not upon the same model; for cardinal Alberoni's intrigues at
that time being discovered, and my uncle Toby rightly foreseeing that a flame
would inevitably break out betwixt Spain and the Empire, and that the operations
of the ensuing campaign must in all likelihood be either in Naples or Sicily, --
he determined upon an Italian bridge, - (my uncle Toby, by the bye, was not far
out in his conjectures) -- but my father, who was infinitely the better
politician, and took the lead as far of my uncle Toby in the cabinet, as my
uncle Toby took it of him in the field, - convinced him, that if the King of
Spain and the Emperor went together by the ears, that England and France and
Holland must, by force of their pre-engagements, all enter the lists too; -- and
if so, he would say, the combatants, brother Toby, as sure as we are alive, will
fall to it again, pell-mell, upon the old prize-fighting stage of Flanders; --
then what will you do with your Italian bridge?
    -- We will go on with it then, upon the old model, cried my uncle Toby.
    When corporal Trim had about half finished it in that stile, -- my uncle
Toby 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 fossè, 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 Toby 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?
    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.
    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 to gain a passage, -- of which sorts your
worships might have seen three famous ones at Spires before its destruction, -
and one now at Brisac, if I mistake not; -- but my father advising my uncle
Toby, 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
d'Hôpital's invention, which the younger Bernouilli has so well and learnedly
described, as your worships may see, - Act. Erud. Lips. an. 1695, - to these a
lead weight is an eternal balance, and keeps watch as well as a couple of
sentinels, inasmuch as the construction of them was a curve-line approximating
to a cycloid, -- if not a cycloid itself.
    My uncle Toby understood the nature of a parabola as well as any man in
England, - 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 Toby to Trim.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

When Trim came in and told my father, that Dr. Slop was in the kitchen, and busy
in making a bridge, - my uncle Toby, - 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. Slop was making a model of the marquis d'Hôpital's bridge. --
'Tis very obliging in him, quoth my uncle Toby; -- pray give my humble service
to Dr. Slop, Trim, and tell him I thank him heartily.
    Had my uncle Toby's head been a Savoyard's 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 in my uncle Toby's imagination, than what he had;
so notwithstanding the catapulta and battering-ram, and his bitter imprecation
about them, he was just beginning to triumph --
    When Trim's answer, in an instant, tore the laurel from his brows, and
twisted it to pieces.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

- This unfortunate draw-bridge of yours, quoth my father - God bless your
honour, cried Trim, 'tis a bridge for master's nose. -- In bringing him into the
world with his vile instruments, he has crush'd his nose, Susannah 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 Susannah's stays, to raise it up.
    -- Lead me, brother Toby, cried my father, to my room this instant.
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

From 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.
    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 hare-brain'd squirts thou art wont,
Tristram! 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 thy furniture cost thee nothing.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

- I won'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.«
    The moment my father got up into his chamber, he threw himself prostrate
across his 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 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 utter'd not a word.
    An old set-stitch'd chair, valanced and fringed around with party-colour'd
worsted bobs, stood at the bed's head, opposite to the side where my father's
head reclined. -- My uncle Toby sat him down in it.
    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 Toby 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

- »All is not gain that is got into the purse.« -- 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.
    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, or will it justify
the unchristian manner he abandoned and surrender'd himself up to it.
    To explain this, I must leave him upon the bed for half an hour, -- and my
good uncle Toby in his old fringed chair sitting beside him.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

- I think 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 it. --
    - »Because,« replied my great grandmother, »you have little or no nose.
Sir.« --
    Now, before I venture to make use of the word Nose 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 a Will o' the Wisp, 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.
    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
reader's imaginations.
    -- Here are two senses, cried Eugenius, as we walk'd along, pointing with
the fore finger of his right hand to the word Crevice, in the fifty-second page
of the second 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
Eugenius. Eugenius, said I, stepping before him, and laying my hand upon his
breast, -- to define - is to distrust. - Thus I triumph'd over Eugenius; but I
triumph'd over him as I always do, like a fool. -- 'Tis my comfort however, I am
not an obstinate one; therefore.
    I define a nose, as follows, -- entreating 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
Nose, throughout all this long chapter of noses, and in every other part of my
work, where the word Nose occurs, - I declare, by that word I mean a Nose, and
nothing more or less.
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

- »Because,« quoth my great grandmother, repeating the words again, - »you have
little or no nose, Sir« -- 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 Pantagruel
found dwelling upon the island of ENNASIN. -- 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 can. --
    -- 'Twas shaped, Sir, like an ace of clubs.
    -- 'Tis a full inch, continued my great 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.
    -- My great grandfather was convinced. - He untwisted the paper, and signed
the article.
 

                                 Chap. XXXIII.

- What an unconscionable jointure, my dear, do we pay out of this small estate
of ours, quoth my grandmother to my grandfather.
    My father, replied my grandfather, had no more nose, my dear, saving the
mark, than there is upon the back of my hand. --
    -- 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 Michaelmas and Lady day) - during all that time.
    No man discharged pecuniary obligations with a better grace than my father.
-- And as far as the 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 Hem! - 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.
    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!
    For three generations at least, this tenet in favour of long noses had
gradually been taking root in our family. -- TRADITION was all along on its
side, and INTEREST 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.
    He would often declare, in speaking his thoughts upon the subject, that he
did not conceive how the greatest family in England 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 Shandy family rank'd very high in king
Harry 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 the blow of my great
grandfather's nose. -- It was an ace of clubs indeed, he would cry, shaking his
head, -- and as vile as one for an unfortunate family, as ever turn'd up trumps.
    -- 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, measuring downwards from the setting on of
the hair. --
    -- What a life of it has an author, at this pass!
 

                                  Chap. XXXIV.

It 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.«
    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!
    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. --
    I am aware that Didius, the great civilian, will contest this point; and cry
out against me, Whence comes this man's right to this apple? ex confesso, he
will say, -- things were in a state of nature. - The apple, as much Frank's
apple, as John's. Pray, Mr. Shandy, what patent has he to show for it? and how
did it begin to be his? was it, when he set his heart upon it? or when he
gather'd 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.
    Brother Didius, Tribonius will answer, - (now Tribonius the civilian and
church lawyer's beard being three inches and half and three eighths longer than
Didius his beard, - I'm glad he takes up the cudgels for me, so I give myself no
further trouble about the answer.) - Brother Didius, Tribonius will say, it is a
decreed case, as you may find it in the fragments of Gregorius and Hermogenes's
codes, and in all the codes from Justinian's down to the codes of Louis and Des
Eaux, - 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, etc. 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 John's apple.
    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 claim'd them:
they had cost him moreover as much labour in cooking and digesting as in the
case above, so that they might well and truely be said to be 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
Toby would a citadel.
    There was one plaguy rub in the way of this, -- the scarcity of materials to
make any thing 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 Toby's 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 Toby had done those upon military
architecture. -- 'Tis true, a much less table would have held them, - but that
was not thy transgression, my dear uncle. -
    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 Toby, 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 sentiments 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 envied'st no man's comforts,
-- insulted'st no man's opinions. -- Thou blackened'st no man's character, --
devoured'st no man's bread: gently with faithful Trim behind thee, didst thou
amble round the little circle of thy pleasures, jostling no creature in thy way;
-- for each one's service, thou hadst a tear, -- for each man's need, thou hadst
a shilling.
    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 Shandy family, thy fortifications, my dear uncle Toby, shall never
be demolish'd.
 

                                  Chap. XXXV.

My 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 fortune however to
set off well, in getting Bruscambille's prologue upon long noses, almost for
nothing, - for he gave no more for Bruscambille 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 Bruscambilles in
Christendom, -- 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 lightening, - took
Bruscambille into his bosom, -- hyed home from Piccadilly to Coleman-street with
it, as he would have hyed home with a treasure, without taking his hand once off
from Bruscambille all the way.
    To those who do not yet know of which gender Bruscambille 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 Bruscambille 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 Prignitz, - purchased Scroderus, Andrea
Paræus, Bouchet's Evening Conferences, and above all, the great and learned
Hafen Slawkenbergius; of which, as I shall have much to say by and bye, -- I
will say nothing now.
 

                                  Chap. XXXVI.

Of 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 Pamphagus and
Cocles, written by the chaste pen of the great and venerable Erasmus, 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, 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, till like Tickletoby's mare, you break a strap or a
crupper, and throw his worship into the dirt. -- You need not kill him. --
    -- And pray who was Tickletoby's mare? - 'tis just as discreditable and
unscholar-like a question, Sir, as to have asked what year (ab urb. con.) the
second Punic broke out. - Who was Tickletoby's mare! - Read, read, read, read,
my unlearned reader! read, - or by the knowledge of the great saint
Paraleipomenon - I tell you before-hand, you had better throw down the book at
once; for without much reading, by which your reverence knows, I mean much
knowledge, 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.
 
[Two marbled pages following.]
 

                                 Chap. XXXVII.

»Nihil me pænitet hujus nasi,« quoth Pamphagus; - that is, -- »My nose has been
the making of me.« - »Nec est cur pæniteat,« replies Cocles; that is, »How the
duce should such a nose fail?«
    The doctrine, you see, was laid down by Erasmus, 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 Erasmus, 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 interpretaion, - he could still make nothing of it, that way.
Mayhaps there is more meant, than is said in it, quoth my father. - Learned men,
brother Toby, don't write dialogues upon long noses for nothing. -- I'll study
the mystic and the allegoric sense, -- here is some room to turn a man's self
in, brother.
    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 Erasmus, the dialogist
affirmeth that a long nose is not without its domestic conveniences also, for
that in a case of distress, - and for want of a pair of bellows, it will do
excellently well, ad excitandum focum, (to stir up the fire.)
    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 Toby, cried my father, of
Erasmus 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 Toby, how I have mended the sense. - But you have marr'd a word,
replied my uncle Toby. - My father put on his spectacles, - bit his lip, - and
tore out the leaf in a passion.
 

                                 Chap. XXXVIII.

O Slawkenbergius! thou faithful analyzer of my Disgrázias, -- 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, Slawkenbergius! 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,
Slawkenbergius! 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 FOLIO for them, upon the subject of their
noses.
    How the communication was conveyed into Slawkenbergius's sensorium, -- so
that Slawkenbergius should know whose finger touch'd the key, -- and whose hand
it was that blew the bellows, -- as Hafen Slawkenbergius has been dead and laid
in his grave above fourscore and ten years, -- we can only raise conjectures.
    Slawkenbergius was play'd upon, for aught I know, like one of Whitfield's
disciples, -- that is, with such a distinct intelligence, Sir, of which of the
two masters it was, that had been practising upon his instrument, -- as to make
all reasoning upon it needless.
    -- For in the account which Hafen Slawkenbergius 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 prologomena, which by the bye should
have come first, -- but the bookbinder has most injudiciously placed it betwixt
the analitical 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 Slawkenbergius's book is in Latin, and not a little prolix
in this passage, -- ever since I understood, quoth Slawkenbergius, any thing, --
or rather what was what, -- and could perceive that the point of long noses had
been too loosely handled by all who had gone before; -- have I, Slawkenbergius,
felt a strong impulse, with a mighty and an unresistible call within me, to gird
up myself to this undertaking.
    And to do justice to Slawkenbergius, 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 en-nich'd
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, dialectically, - 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
porticoes of the learned: so that Slawkenbergius his book may properly be
considered, not only as a model, - but as a thorough-stitch'd DIGEST and regular
institute of noses; comprehending in it, all that is, or can be needful to be
known about them.
    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 Prignitz, now
lying upon the table before me, who with infinite learning, and from the most
candid and scholarlike examination of above four thousand different skulls, in
upwards of twenty charnel houses in Silesia, which he had rummaged, - has
informed us, that the mensuration and configuration of the osseous or boney
parts of human noses, in any given tract of country, except Crim Tartary, 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 cartilagenous 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 ideots, whom Prignitz, who had lived
many years in Turky, supposes under the more immediate tutelage of heaven) -- it
so happens, and ever must, says Prignitz, that the excellency of the nose is in
a direct arithmetical proportion to the excellency of the wearer's fancy.
    It is for the same reason, that is, because 'tis all comprehended in
Slawkenbergius, that I say nothing likewise of Scroderus (Andrea) who all the
world knows, set himself to oppugn Prignitz with great violence, -- proving it
in his own way, first logically, and then by a series of stubborn facts, »That
so far was Prignitz from the truth, in affirming that the fancy begat the nose,
that on the contrary, - the nose begat the fancy.«
    - The learned suspected Scroderus, of an indecent sophism in this, - and
Prignitz cried out aloud in the dispute, that Scroderus had shifted the idea
upon him, - but Scroderus went on, maintaining his thesis. --
    My father was just balancing within himself, which of the two sides he
should take in this affair; when Ambrose Paræus decided it in a moment, and by
over-throwing the systems, both of Prignitz and Scroderus, drove my father out
of both sides of the controversy at once.
    Be witness --
    I don't acquaint the learned reader, - in saying it, I mention it only to
show the learned, I know the fact myself. --
    That this Ambrose Paræus was chief surgeon and nose-mender to Francis the
ninth of France, 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 Taliacotius's noses, and his manner of setting them on, -- 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.
    Now Ambrose Paræus convinced my father, that the true and efficient cause of
what had engaged so much the attention of the world, and upon which Prignitz and
Scroderus 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 puisne 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 ad mensuram suam
legitimam; -- but that in case of the flaccidity and softness of the nurse or
mother's breast, - by sinking into it, quoth Paræus, as into so much butter, the
nose was comforted, nourish'd, plump'd up, refresh'd, refocillated, and set a
growing for ever.
    I have but two things to observe of Paræus; first, that he proves and
explains all this with the utmost chastity and decorum of expression: - for
which may his soul for ever rest in peace!
    And, secondly, that besides the systems of Prignitz and Scroderus, which
Ambrose Paræus 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 every thing in it, except my uncle Toby, quite upside down.
    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!
    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 domestic misadventures crouding in upon me
thick and three-fold, one upon the neck of another, -- a cow broke in (to-morrow
morning) to my uncle Toby's fortifications, and eat up two ratios and half of
dried grass, tearing up the sods with it, which faced his horn-work and covered
way. - Trim insists upon being tried by a court-martial, - the cow to be shot, -
Slop to be crucifix'd, - myself to be tristram'd, 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 Toby 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 Hafen Slawkenbergius's
folio, Sir, to finish -- a dialogue between my father and my uncle Toby, upon
the solution of Prignitz, Scoderus, Ambrose Paræus, Ponocrates and Grangousier
to relate, - a tale out of Slawkenbergius 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!
 

                                  Chap. XXXIX.

There 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 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 dramatic
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 entrusted with so unlimited a confidence, as in the
SHANDY-FAMILY.
    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 Toby's too.
    My uncle Toby would give my father all possible fair play in this attempt;
and with infinite patience would sit smoking his pipe for whole hours together,
whilst my father was practising upon his head, and trying every accessible
avenue to drive Prignitz and Scroderus's solutions into it.
    Whether they were above my uncle Toby's reason, -- or contrary to it, -- or
that his brain was like wet tinder, 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 Prignitz and Scroderus's doctrines,
- I say not, - let school-men - scullions, anatomists, and engineers, fight for
it amongst themselves. --
    '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 Toby, and render out
of Slawkenbergius's Latin, 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
paroxisms of his zeal to open my uncle Toby's eyes -- my father's ideas run on,
as much faster than the translation, as the translation outmoved my uncle Toby'
s; -- neither the one or the other added much to the perspicuity of my father's
lecture.
 

                                   Chap. XL.

The gift of ratiocination and making syllogisms, - I mean in man, - for in
superior classes of beings, such as angels and spirits, - 'tis all done, may it
please your worships, as they tell me, by INTUITION; - and beings inferior, as
your worships all know, -- syllogize by their noses: though there is an island
swiming 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 there --
    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 medius terminus) just as a man, as Locke 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 juxta-position.
    Had the same great reasoner looked on, as my father illustrated his systems
of noses, and observed my uncle Toby's 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 foreright,
- then this way, and then that, in all its possible directions and
foreshortenings, -- he would have concluded my uncle Toby had got hold of the
medius terminus; 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 philosophic lectures, - was to enable my uncle Toby not to discuss, -- but
comprehend -- to hold the grains and scruples of learning, - not to weigh them.
- My uncle Toby, as you will read in the next chapter, did neither the one or
the other.
 

                                   Chap. XLI.

'Tis a pity, cried my father one winter's night, after a three hours painful
translation of Slawkenbergius, - 'tis a pity, cried my father, putting my
mother's thread-paper into the book for a mark, as he spoke -- that truth,
brother Toby, should shut herself up in such impregnable fastnesses, and be so
obstinate as not to surrender herself sometimes up upon the closest siege. --
    Now it happened then, as indeed it had often done before, that my uncle
Toby's fancy, during the time of my father's explanation of Prignitz 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 medius terminus, -- my uncle Toby
was in fact as ignorant of the whole lecture, and all its pro's and con's, as if
my father had been translating Hafen Slawkenbergius from the Latin tongue into
the Cherokeè. But the word siege, like a talismanic power, in my father's
metaphor, wafting back my uncle Toby's 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.
    'Tis a pity, said my father, that truth can only be on one side, brother
Toby, - considering what ingenuity these learned men have all shown in their
solutions of noses. -- Can noses be dissolved? replied my uncle Toby. --
    -- 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 Slawkenbergius's book, - went
hastily to his bureau, - walk'd slowly back, twisting my mother's thread-paper
about his thumb, - unbutton'd his waistcoat, -- threw my mother's thread-paper
into the fire, - bit her satin pin-cushion in two, fill'd his mouth with bran,
- confounded it; - but mark! - the oath of confusion was levell'd at my uncle
Toby's 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.
    '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 mettle so much, or make his passions go off so like
gun-powder, as the unexpected strokes his science met with from the quaint
simplicity of my uncle Toby's 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 quære of three words unseasonably popping in full upon him in his
hobbyhorsical career.
    'Twas all one to my uncle Toby, - he smoked 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.
    By all that's good! said my father, swearing, as he came to himself, and
taking the oath out of Ernulphus's digest of curses, - (though to do my father
justice it was a fault (as he told Dr. Slop in the affair of Ernulphus) which he
as seldom committed as any man upon earth.) -- By all that's good and great!
brother Toby, 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 solutions 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
Toby, - why one man's nose is longer than another's, but because that God
pleases to have it so. - That is Grangousier's solution, said my father. - 'Tis
he, continued my uncle Toby, 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 Toby's
character, -- that he feared God, and reverenced religion. -- So the moment my
father finished his remark, - my uncle Toby fell a whistling Lillabullero, with
more zeal (though more out of tune) than usual. --
    What is become of my wife's thread-paper?
 

                                  Chap. XLII.

No 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 Slawkenbergius.
Slawkenbergius in every page of him was a rich treasury 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 Slawkenbergius
only left, - there would be enough in him in all conscience, he would say, to
set the word a-going again. A treasure therefore was he indeed! an institute of
all that was necessary to be known of noses, and every thing else, -- at matin,
noon, and vespers was Hafen Slawkenbergius 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.
    I am not such a bigot to Slawkenbergius, 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 Hafen Slawkenbergius, is his tales, -- and, considering
he was a German, 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 Slawkenbergius 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.
    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.
 
                          The End of the Third Volume
 

                                   Volume IV.

                             Slawkenbergii Fabella8

Vespera quâdam frigidulâ, posteriori in parte mensis Augusti, peregrinus, mulo
fusco colore insidens, manticâ a tergo, paucis indusijs, binis calceis,
braccisque sericis coccinejs repletâ Argentoratum ingressus est.
    Militi eum percontanti, quum portus intraret, dixit, se apud Nasorum
promontorium fuisse, Francofurtum proficisci, et Argentoratum, transitu ad fines
Sarmatiæ mensis intervallo, reversurum.
    Miles peregrini in faciem suspexit - Di boni, nova forma nasi!
    At multum mihi profuit, inquit peregrinus, carpum amento extrahens, e quo
pependit acinaces: Loculo manum inseruit; &amp; - magnâ cum urbanitate, pilei
parte anteriore tactâ manu sinistrâ, ut extendit dextram, militi florinum dedit
et processit.
    Dolet mihi, ait miles, tympanistam nanum et valgum alloquens, virum adeo
urbanum vaginam perdidisse; itinerari haud poterit nudâ acinaci, neque vaginam
toto Argentorato, habilem inveniet. - Nullam unquam habui, respondit peregrinus
respiciens, - seque comiter inclinans - hoc more gesto, nudam acinacem elevans,
mulo lentò progrediente, ut nasum tueri possim.
    Non immerito, benigne peregrine, respondit miles.
    Nihili æstimo, ait ille tympanista, e pergamenâ factitius est.
    Prout christianus sum, inquit miles, nasus ille, ni sexties major sit, meo
esset conformis.
    Crepitare audivi ait tympanista.
    Mehercule! sanguinem emisit, respondit miles.
    Miseret me, inquit tympanista, qui non ambo titigimus!
    Eodem temporis puncto, quo hæc res argumentata fuit inter militem et
tympanistam, disceptabatur ibidem tubicine &amp; - uxore suâ, qui tunc
accesserunt, et peregrino prætereunte, restiterunt.
    Quantus nasus! æque longus est, ait tubicina, ac tuba.
    Et ex eodem metallo, ait tubicen, velut sternutamento audias.
    Tantum abest, respondit illa, quod fistulam dulcedine vincit.
    Æneus est, ait tubicen.
    Nequaquam, respondit uxor.
    Rursum affirmo, ait tubicen, quod æneus est.
    Rem penitus explorabo; prius, enim digito tangam, ait uxor, quam dormivero.
    Mulus peregrini, gradu lento progressus est, ut unumquodque verbum
controversiae, non tantum inter militem et tympanistam, verum etiam inter
tubicinem et uxorem ejus, audiret.
    Nequaquam, ait ille, in muli collum fraena demittens &amp; - manibus ambabus
in pectus positis, (mulo lentè progrediente) nequaquam ait ille, respiciens, non
necesse est ut res isthaec dilucidata foret. Minime gentium! meus nasus nunquam
tangetur, dum spiritus hos reget artus - ad quid agendum? ait uxor
burgomagistri.
    Peregrinus illi non respondit. Votum faciebat tunc temporis sancto Nicolao,
quo facto, sinu dextram inserens, e quâ negligenter pependit acinaces, lento
gradu processit per plateam Argentorati latam quæ ad diversorium templo ex
adversum ducit.
    Peregrinus mulo descendens stabulo includi, &amp; manticam inferri jussit:
qua apertâ et coccineis sericis femoralibus extractis cum argenteo laciniato
Perizomate, his sese induit, statimque, acinaci in manu, ad forum deambulavit.
    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.
    Francofurtum proficiscor, ait ille, et Argentoratum quatuor abhinc
hebdomadis revertar.
    Bene curasti hoc jumentum (ait) muli faciem manu demulcens -- me,
manticamque meam, plus sexcentis mille passibus portavit.
    Longa via est! respondet hospes, nisi plurimum esset negoti. -- Enimvero ait
peregrinus a nasorum promontorio redij, et nasum speciosissimum,
egregiosissimumque quem unquam quisquam sortitus est, acquisivi?
    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?
    Dolus inest, anime mi, ait hospes - nasus est falsus. -
    Verus est, respondit uxor. -
    Ex abiete factus, est, ait ille, terebinthinum olet --
    Carbunculus inest, ait uxor.
    Mortuus est nasus, respondit hospes.
    Vivus est, ait illa -- &amp; si ipsa vivam tangam.
    Votum feci sancto Nicolao, ait peregrinus, nasum meum intactum fore usque ad
- Quodnam tempus? illico respondit illa.
    Minime tangetur, inquit ille (manibus in pectus compositis) usque ad illam
horam - Quam horam? ait illa. - Nullam, respondit peregrinus, donec perveneo, ad
- Quem locum, - obsecro? ait illa - Peregrinus nil respondens mulo conscenso
discessit.
 

                             Slawkenbergius's Tale

It was one cool refreshing evening, at the close of a very sultry day, in the
latter end of the month of August, 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-satin pair of breeches, entred the town of Strasburg.
    He told the centinel, who questioned him as he entered the gates, that he
had been at the Promontory of NOSES - was going on to Frankfort - and should be
back again at Strasburg that day month, in his way to the borders of Crim
Tartary.
    The centinel looked up into the stranger's face - never saw such a nose in
his life!
    - I have made a very good venture of it, quoth the stranger - so slipping
his wrist out of the loop of a black ribban, to which a short scymetar was hung:
He put his hand into his pocket, and with great courtesy touching the forepart
of his cap with his left-hand, as he extended his right - he put a florin into
the centinel's hand, and passed on.
    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 Strasburg. -- 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.
    It is well worth it, gentle stranger, replied the centinel.
    - 'Tis not worth a single stiver, said the bandy-legg'd drummer - 'tis a
nose of parchment.
    As I am a true catholic - except that it is six times as big - 'tis a nose,
said the centinel, like my own.
    - I heard it crackle, said the drummer.
    By dunder, said the centinel, I saw it bleed.
    What a pity, cried the bandy-legg'd drummer, we did not both touch it!
    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.
    Benedicity! -- What a nose! 'tis as long, said the trumpeter's wife, as a
trumpet.
    And of the same mettle, said the trumpeter, as you hear by its sneezing.
    - 'Tis as soft as a flute, said she.
    - 'Tis brass, said the trumpeter.
    - 'Tis a pudding's end - said his wife.
    I tell thee again, said the trumpeter, 'tis a brazen nose.
    I'll know the bottom of it, said the trumpeter's wife, for I will touch it
with my finger before I sleep.
    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 the trumpeter's wife.
    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.
    The stranger took no notice of the burgomaster's wife - he was making a vow
to saint Nicolas; 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 Strasburg, till chance brought him
to the great inn in the market-place over-against the church.
    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-satin breeches, with a silver-fringed - (appendage to them, which I
dare not translate) - he put his breeches, with his fringed cod-piece on, and
forthwith with his short scymetar in his hand, walked out to the grand parade.
    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-satin breeches, etc. in his cloak-bag, and
called for his mule.
    I am going forwards, said the stranger, for Frankfort -- and shall be back
at Strasburg this day month.
    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.
    - '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 and jolliest, thank heaven, that
ever fell to a single man's lot.
    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 Radagunda, 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 Strasburg! is it not,
said she, whispering her husband in his ear, is it not a noble nose?
    'Tis an imposture, my dear, said the master of the inn - 'tis a false nose.
-
    'Tis a true nose, said his wife. -
    'Tis made of fir-tree, said he, - I smell the turpentine. -
    There's a pimple on it, said she.
    'Tis a dead nose, replied the inn-keeper.
    'Tis a live nose, and if I am alive myself, said the inn-keeper's wife, I
will touch it.
    I have made a vow to saint Nicolas 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.
    It never shall be touched, said he, clasping his hands and bringing them
close to his breast, till that hour. -- What hour? cried the innkeeper's wife.
-- Never! - never! said the stranger, never till I am got - For heaven sake into
what place? said she. - The stranger rode away without saying a word.
    The stranger had not got half a league on his way towards Frankfort, before
all the city of Strasburg was in an uproar about his nose. The Compline-bells
were just ringing to call the Strasburgers to their devotions, and shut up the
duties of the day in prayer: -- no soul in all Strasburg heard 'em - the city
was like a swarm of bees -- men, women, and children (the Compline-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 ally, out at 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?
    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
Strasburg.
    Whilst all this confusion and disorder triumphed throughout the great city
of Strasburg, was the courteous stranger going on as gently upon his mule in his
way to Frankfort, as if he had 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.
    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 it. -
    - Pugh! - 'tis nothing but a thistle - never mind it - thou shalt have a
better supper at night. -
    -- Banish'd from my country - my friends - from thee. -
    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-satin pair
of breeches, and a fringed - Dear Julia!
    - But why to Frankfort? - is it that there is a hand unfelt, which secretly
is conducting me through these meanders and unsuspected tracts! -
    - Stumbling! by saint Nicolas! every step -- why at this rate we shall be
all night in getting in --
    - To happiness - or am I to be the sport of fortune and slander - destined
to be driven forth unconvicted - unheard - untouched -- if so, why did I not
stay at Strasburg, where justice -- but I had sworn! - Come, thou shalt drink -
to St. Nicolas - O Julia! -- What dost thou prick up thy ears at? - 'tis nothing
but a man, etc. --
    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-satin breeches, etc. in it -- called for an omelet to his supper, went
to his bed about twelve o'clock, and in five minutes fell fast asleep.
    It was about the same hour when the tumult in Strasburg being abated for
that night, -- the Strasburgers had all got quietly into their beds - but not
like the stranger, for the rest either of their minds or bodies; queen Mab, 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 Strasburg to hold
them. The abbess of Quedlinberg, who, with the four great dignitaries of her
chapter, the prioress, the deaness, the sub-chantress, and senior canoness, had
that week come to Strasburg to consult the university upon a case of conscience
relating to their placket holes - was ill all the night.
    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.
    The penitentiaries of the third order of saint Francis -- the nuns of mount
Calvary - the Præmonstratenses -- the Clunienses9 - the Carthusians, 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 Quedlinberg - 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 mawl'd themselves all to
death - they got out of their beds almost flead alive - every body thought saint
Antony 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.
    The nuns of saint Ursula acted the wisest - they never attempted to go to
bed at all.
    The dean of Strasburg, 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 Ursula's example. -- In the hurry and
confusion every thing 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
Strasburg - 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 Strasburg, since Martin
Luther, with his doctrines, had turned the city up-side down.
    If the stranger's nose took this liberty of thrusting itself thus into the
dishes10 of religious orders, etc. 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
powers to describe; tho' I acknowledge, (cries Slawkenbergius, with more gaiety
of thought than I could have expected from him) 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 Strasburgers fantacies was so general - such an
overpowering mastership had it got of all the faculties of the Strasburgers
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
Strasburg spent their time in hearing tidings about it - every eye in Strasburg
languished to see it -- every finger - every thumb in Strasburg burned to touch
it.
    Now what might add, if any thing may be thought necessary to add to so
vehement a desire - was this, that the centinel, the bandy-legg'd drummer, the
trumpeter, the trumpeter's wife, the burgo-master'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 descriptions of the stranger's nose -
they all agreed together in two points - namely, that he was gone to Frankfort,
and would not return to Strasburg 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 Strasburg - that as he rode, with his scymetar slung loosely to his
wrist, thro' the streets - and walked with his crimmson-satin 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.
    I call not upon that heart which is a stranger to the throbs and yearnings
of curiosity, so excited to justify the abbess of Quedlinberg, the prioress, the
deaness and subchantress for sending at noon-day for the trumpeter's wife: she
went through the streets of Strasburg 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.
    The centinel and the bandy-legg'd drummer! - nothing on this side of old
Athens could equal them! they read their lectures under the city gates to comers
and goers, with all the pomp of a Chrysippus and a Crantor in their porticoes.
    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 Strasburger came crouding for intelligence and
every Strasburger had the intelligence he wanted.
    'Tis worth remarking, for the benefit of all demonstrators in natural
philosophy, etc. that as soon as the trumpeter's wife had finished the abbess of
Quedlinberg's 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 Strasburg for her auditory - But when a demonstrator in philosophy
(cries Slawkenbergius) has a trumpet for an apparatus, pray what rival in
science can pretend to be heard besides him?
    Whilst the unlearned, thro' these conduits of intelligence, were all busied
in getting down to the bottom of the well, where TRUTH 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 reasoned -
    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 Wens and oedematous
swellings, they could not keep clear of them for their bloods ans souls - the
stranger's nose had nothing to do either with wens or oedematous swellings.
    It was demonstrated however very satisfactorily, that such a ponderous mass
of heterogenious matter could not be congested and conglomerated to the nose,
whilst the infant was in Utero, without destroying the statical balance of the
foetus, and throwing it plump upon its head nine months before the time. --
    - The opponents granted the theory - they denied the consequences.
    And if a suitable provision of veins, arteries, etc. 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.
    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 to 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.
    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 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.
    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
half a man, when both his legs have been unfortunately shot off? -
    He dies of a plethora, said they - or must spit blood, and in a fortnight or
three weeks go off in a consumption -
    - It happens otherways - replied the opponents. --
    It ought not, said they.
    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.
    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 a certain limits - that nature, though she sported - she sported
within a certain circle; - and they could not agree about the diameter of it.
    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 petitio principii, 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.
    A nose, argued the logician, cannot bleed without blood - and not only blood
- but blood circulating in it to supply the phaenomenon with a succession of
drops - (a stream being but a quicker succession of drops, that included, said
he - Now death, continued the logician, being nothing but the stagnation of the
blood -
    I deny the definition - Death is the separation of the soul from the body,
said his antagonist - Then we don't agree about our weapon, said the logician -
Then there is an end of the dispute, replied the antagonist.
    The civilians were still more concise; what they offered being more in the
nature of a decree - than a dispute.
    - Such a monstrous nose, said they, had it been a true nose, 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 shown it.
    The only objection to this was, that if it proved any thing, it proved the
stranger's nose was neither true nor false.
    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 ex mero motu had confessed he had been at the Promontory of
Noses, and had got one of the goodliest, etc. etc. - To this it was answered, it
was impossible there should be such a place as the Promontory of Noses, and
learned be ignorant where it lay. The commissary of the bishop of Strasburg
undertook the advocates, explained this matter in a treatise upon proverbial
phrases, showing them, that the Promontory of Noses was a mere allegoric
expression, importing no more than that nature had given him a long nose: in
proof of which, with great learning, he cited the underwritten authorities11,
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.
    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 Strasburg - the
Lutheran, founded in the year 1538 by Jacobus Sturmius, counsellor of the
senate, - and the Popish, founded by Leopold, arch-duke of Austria, were, during
all this time, employing the whole depth of their knowledge (except just what
the affair of the abbess of Quedlinberg's placket-holes required) - in
determining the point of Martin Luther's damnation.
    The Popish doctors had undertaken to demonstrate a priori; that from
necessary influence of the planets on the twenty-second day of October 1483 --
when the moon was in the twelfth house - Jupiter, Mars, and Venus in the third,
the Sun, Saturn, and Mercury 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.
    By inspection into his horoscope, where five planets were in coition all at
once with scorpio12 (in reading this my father would always shake his head) in
the ninth house which the Arabians allotted to religion - it appeared that
Martin Luther did not care one stiver about the matter - and that from the
horoscope directed to the conjunction of Mars - 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, into the lake of hell fire.
    The little objection of the Lutheran doctors to this, was, that it must
certainly be the soul of another man, born Oct. 22, 1483, which was forced to
sail down before the wind in that manner - inasmuch as it appeared from the
register of Islaben in the county of Mansfelt, that Luther was not born in the
year 1483, but in 84; and not on the 22d day of October, but on the 10th of
November, the eve of Martinmas-day, from whence he had the name of Martin.
    [- 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 Quedlinberg -
It is to tell the reader, that my father never read this passage of
Slawkenbergius to my uncle Toby but with triumph - not over my uncle Toby, for
he never opposed him in it - but over the whole world.
    - Now you see, brother Toby, he would say, looking up, »that christian names
are not such indifferent things;« - had Luther here been called by any other
name but Martin, he would have been damned to all eternity - Not that I look
upon Martin, he would add, as a good name - far from it - 'tis something better
than a neutral, and but a little - yet a little as it is, you see it was of some
service to him.
    My father knew the weakness of this prop to his hypothesis, as well as the
best logician could show him - yet so strange is the weakness of man at the same
time, as it fell in his way, he could not for his life but make use of it; and
it was certainly for this reason, that though there are many stories in Hafen
Slawkenbergius's 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 NAMES and his NOSES - I
will be bold to say, he might have read all the books in the Alexandrian
library, had not fate taken other care of them, and not have met with a book or
a passage in one, which hit two such nails as these upon the head at one
stroke.]
    The two universities of Strasburg were hard tugging at this affair of
Luther's 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 Martin 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
NAVIGATION, 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. --
    The abbess of Quedlinberg 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.
    'Twas a square cap with a silk tassel upon the crown of it - to a nut shell
- to have guessed on which side of the nose the two universities would split.
    'Tis above reason, cried the doctors on one side.
    'Tis below reason, cried the others.
    'Tis faith, cried the one.
    'Tis a fiddle-stick, said the other.
    'Tis possible, cried the one.
    'Tis impossible, said the other.
    God's power is infinite, cried the Nosarians, he can do any thing.
    He can do nothing, replied the Antinosarians, which implies contradictions.
    He can make matter think, said the Nosarians.
    As certainly as you can make a velvet cap out of a sow's ear, replied the
Antinosarians.
    He cannot make two and two five, replied the Popish doctors. - 'Tis false,
said their opponents. -
    Infinite power is infinite power, said the doctors who maintained the
reality of the nose. -- It extends only to all possible things, replied the
Lutherans.
    By God in heaven, cried the Popish doctors, he can make a nose, if he thinks
fit, as big as the steeple of Strasburg.
    Now the steeple of Strasburg being the biggest and the tallest
church-steeple to be seen in the whole world, the Anti-nosarians 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 Lutheran doctors said No; - it
could not.
    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 Thomas Aquinas, and Thomas Aquinas to the
devil.
    The stranger's nose was no more heard of in the dispute - it just served as
a frigate to launch them into the gulf of school-divinity, - and then they all
sailed before the wind.
    Heat is in proportion to the want of true knowledge.
    The controversy about the attributes, etc. instead of cooling, on the
contrary had inflamed the Strasburgers 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 Parchmentarians, the Brassarians, the Turpentarians, on one side -
the Popish doctors on the other, like Pantagruel and his companions in quest of
the oracle of the bottle, all embarked and out of sight.
    -- The poor Strasburgers left upon the beach!
    - What was to be done? - No delay - the uproar increased - every one in
disorder - the city gates set open. -
    Unfortunate Strasburgers! was there in the store-house 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.
    On the twenty-eighth the courteous stranger had promised to return to
Strasburg.
    Seven thousand coaches (Slawkenbergius must certainly have made some mistake
in his numerical characters) 7000 coaches - 15000 single horse chairs -- 20000
wagons, 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 Quedlinberg, with the prioress, the deaness and
sub-chantress leading the procession in one coach, and the dean of Strasburg,
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 Rhine - some this way - some that - all
set out at sun-rise to meet the courteous stranger on the road.
    Haste we now towards the catastrophe of my tale - I say Catastrophe (cries
Slawkenbergius) inasmuch as a tale, with parts rightly disposed, not only
rejoiceth (gaudet) in the Catastrophe and Peripeitia of a DRAMA, but rejoiceth
moveover in all the essential and integrant parts of it - it has its Protasis,
Epistasis, Catastasis, its Catastrophe or Peripeitia growing one out of the
other in it, in the order Aristotle first planted them - without which a tale
had better never be told at all, says Slawkenbergius, but be kept to a man's
self.
    In all my ten tales, in all my ten decads, have I, Slawkenbergius, tied down
every tale of them as tightly to this rule, as I have done this of the stranger
and his nose.
    - From his first parley with the centinel, to his leaving the city of
Strasburg, after pulling off his crimson-satin pair of breeches, is the
Protasis or first entrance -- where the characters of the Personæ Dramatis are
just touched in, and the subject slightly begun.
    The Epistasis, wherein the action is more fully entered upon and heightened,
till it arrives at its state or height called the Catastasis, 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 Strasburgers upon the beach in distress, is the
Catastasis or the ripening of the incidents and passions for their bursting
forth in the fifth act.
    This commences with the setting out of the Strasburgers in the Frankfort
road, and terminates in unwinding the labyrinth and bringing the hero out of a
state of agitation (as Aristotle calls it) to a state of rest and quietness.
    This, says Hafen Slawkenbergius, constitutes the catastrophe or peripeitia
of my tale - and that is the part of it I am going to relate.
    We left the stranger behind the curtain asleep - he enters now upon the
stage.
    - 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 ifs or ands, let the traveller and his horse pass by.
    The traveller was hastening with all diligence to get to Strasburg 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 Strasburg this night - Strasburg! -
the great Strasburg! - Strasburg, the capital of all Alsatia! Strasburg, an
imperial city! Strasburg, a sovereign state! Strasburg, garrisoned with five
thousand of the best troops in all the world! - Alas! If I was at the gates of
Strasburg 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.
    - 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 omlet, and we have nothing. --
    - Alas! said the traveller, harrassed as I am, I want nothing but a bed - I
have one as soft as is in Alsatia, said the host.
    - 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 Jacinta, 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 Jacinta, then upon the ground - kneeled
upon his right knee - had got his hand laid upon his breast - Trifle not with my
anxiety, said he, rising up again - 'Tis no trifle, said Jacinta, '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 Diego!
    The traveller was the brother of the Julia, so often invoked that night by
the stranger as he rode from Strasburg upon his mule; and was come, on her part,
in quest of him. He had accompanied his sister from Valadolid across the
Pyrenean mountains thro' France, and had many an entangled skein to wind off in
pursuit of him thro' the many meanders and abrupt turnings of a lover's thorny
tracks.
    - Julia had sunk under it - and had not been able to go a step farther than
to Lyons, 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 Diego;
and having conjured her brother never to see her face till he had found him out,
and put the letter into his hands, Julia took to her bed.
    Fernandez (for that was her brother's name) - tho' the camp-bed was as soft
as any one in Alsace, yet he could not shut his eyes in it. - As soon as it was
day he rose, and hearing Diego was risen too, he enter'd his chamber, and
discharged his sister's commission.
    The letter was as follows:
 
        »Seig. Diego.
            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.
            How could I know so little of myself, when I sent my Duena to forbid
        your coming more under my lattice? or how could I know so little of you,
        Diego, as to imagine you would not have staid one day in Valadolid to
        have given ease to my doubts? - Was I to be abandoned, Diego, 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.
            In what manner Julia 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 immovably upon her elbow, looking thro' it towards
        the way which Diego was wont to come.
            He will tell you, when she heard of your departure - how her spirits
        deserted her - how her heart sicken'd - how piteously she mourn'd - how
        low she hung her head. O Diego! 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 Diego!
            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, Diego,
        but oh! 'tis embitter'd still more by dying un --.«
 
She could proceed no farther.
    Slawkenbergius supposes the word intended was unconvinced, but her strength
would not enable her to finish her letter.
    The heart of the courteous Diego overflowed as he read the letter - he
ordered his mule forthwith and Fernandez's 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 diseases, having thrown a piece of charcoal into
the window - Diego availed himself of it, and whilst the ostler was getting
ready his mule, he eased his mind against the wall as follows.
 



                                      Ode.

 
Harsh and untuneful are the notes of love,
Unless my Julia strikes the key,
Her hand alone can touch the part,
Whose dulcet movement charms the heart,
And governs all the man with sympathetic sway.
                                      2d.
O Julia!
 
The lines were very natural - for they were nothing at all to the purpose, says
Slawkenbergius, and 'tis a pity there were no more of them; but whether it was
that Seig. Diego was slow in composing verses - or the ostler quick in saddling
mules - is not averred; certain it was, that Diego's mule and Fernandez's horse
were ready at the door of the inn, before Diego was ready for his second stanza;
so without staying to finish his ode, they both mounted, sallied forth, passed
the Rhine, traversed Alsace, shaped their course towards Lyons, and before the
Strasburgers and the abbess of Quedlinberg had set out on their cavalcade, had
Fernandez, Diego, and his Julia, crossed the Pyrenean mountains, and got safe to
Valadolid.
    'Tis needless to inform the geographical reader, that when Diego was in
Spain, it was not possible to meet the courteous stranger in the Frankfort road;
it is enough to say, that of all restless desires, curiosity being the strongest
- the Strasburgers felt the full force of it; and that for three days and nights
they were tossed to and fro in the Frankfort 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 others the most grievous that could befal a free
people.
    As this revolution of the Strasburgers affairs is often spoken of, and
little understood, I will, in ten words, says Slawkenbergius, give the world an
explanation of it, and with it put an end to my tale.
    Every body knows of the grand system of Universal Monarchy, wrote by order
of Mons. Colbert, and put in manuscript into the hands of Lewis the fourteenth,
in the year 1664.
    'Tis as well known, that one branch out of many of that system, was the
getting possession of Strasburg, to favour an entrance at all times into Suabia,
in order to disturb the quiet of Germany - and that in consequence of this plan,
Strasburg unhappily fell at length into their hands.
    It is the lot of 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.
    What a fatal thing is the popular pride of a free city! cries one historian
- The Strasburgers deemed it a diminution of their freedom to receive an
imperial garrison - and so fell a prey to a French one.
    The fate, says another, of the Strasburgers, 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 French
pushed them open.
    Alas! alas! cries Slawkenbergius, 'twas not the French - 'twas CURIOSITY
pushed them open - The French indeed, who are ever upon the catch, when they saw
the Strasburgers, men, women, and children, all marched out to follow the
stranger's nose - each man followed his own, and marched in.
    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 Strasburgers
could not follow their business.
    Alas! alas! cries Slawkenbergius, 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 NOSES.
 
                       The End of Slawkenbergius's Tale.
 

                                    Chap. I.

With 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.
    - 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?
    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.
    This tale, crieth Slawkenbergius 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' - 'it would be even
high time for both of us to shut up the book; inasmuch, continues
Slawkenbergius, as I know of no tale which could possibly ever go down after it.
    - 'Tis a tale indeed!
    This sets out with the first interview in the inn at Lyons, when Fernandez
left the courteous stranger and his sister Julia alone in her chamber, and is
overwritten,
 
                                The Intricacies
                                       of
                                Diego and Julia.
 
Heavens! thou art a strange creature Slawkenbergius! 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 Slawkenbergius's 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 English, 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 acknowledgement. - 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 others laps, the foreheads come into 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.
 

                                   Chap. II.

My 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 Toby's
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,
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 Toby,
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.
    Now whether the compression shortened my uncle Toby's face into a more
pleasureable 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 sun-shine in his face, as melted down the
sullenness of his grief in a moment.
    He broke silence as follows.
 

                                   Chap. III.

Did ever man, brother Toby, cried my father, raising himself up upon his elbow,
and turning himself round to the opposite side of the bed where my uncle Toby
was sitting in his old fringed chair, with his chin resting upon his crutch -
did ever a poor unfortunate man, brother Toby, cried my father, receive so many
lashes? - The most I ever saw given, quoth my uncle Toby, (ringing the bell at
the bed's head for Trim) was to a grenadier, I think in Makay's regiment.
    - Had my uncle Toby shot a bullet thro' my father's heart, he could not have
fallen down with his nose upon the quilt more suddenly.
    Bless me! said my uncle Toby.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

Was it Makay's regiment, quoth my uncle Toby, where the poor grenadier was so
unmercifully whipp'd at Bruges about the ducats. - O Christ! he was innocent!
cried Trim 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 as he begg'd,
and he had gone directly to heaven, for he was as innocent as your honour. -- I
thank thee, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby. I never think of his, continued Trim, and
my poor brother Tom's misfortunes, for we were all three school-fellows, but I
cry like a coward. - Tears are no proof of cowardice, Trim. - I drop them
oft-times myself, cried my uncle Toby. - I know your honour does, replied Trim,
and so am not ashamed of it myself. - But to think, may it please your honour,
continued Trim, 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
Tom! to be tortured upon a rack for nothing - but marrying a Jew's widow who
sold sausages - honest Dick Johnson's soul to be scourged out of his body, for
the ducats another man put into his knapsack! - O! - these are misfortunes,
cried Trim, pulling out his handkerchief - these are misfortunes, may it please
your honour, worth lying down and crying over.
    - My father could not help blushing.
    - 'Twould be a pity, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, 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, Trim, replied my uncle Toby; 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 are passed all services, Trim, - and hast out-lived thy
friends - An' please your honour, never fear, replied Trim chearily - But I
would have thee never fear, Trim, replied my uncle; and therefore, continued my
uncle Toby, throwing down his crutch, and getting up upon his legs as he uttered
the word therefore - in recompense, Trim, 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, Trim, for a penny. Trim attempted to
thank my uncle Toby, - 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.
    - I have left Trim my bowling-green, cried my uncle Toby - My father smiled
- I have left him moreover a pension, continued my uncle Toby - My father looked
grave.
 

                                    Chap. V.

Is this a fit time, said my father to himself, to talk of PENSIONS and
GRENADIERS?
 

                                   Chap. VI.

When my uncle Toby first mentioned the grenadier, my father, I said, fell down
with his nose flat to the quilt, and as suddenly as if my uncle Toby 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 Trim 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.
    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 Toby - 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 Toby; 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 Toby as follows.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

When I reflect, brother Toby, upon MAN; 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 Toby, 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 Toby, 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 it? replied my uncle Toby. - That's another concern,
said my father testily - But I say, Toby, when one runs over the catalogue of
all the cross reckonings and sorrowful items with which the heart of man is
overcharged, 'tis wonderful by what hidden resources the mind is enabled to
stand it 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 Toby,
looking up, and pressing the palms of his hands close together - 'tis not from
our own strength, brother Shandy - a sentinel 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.
    - That is cutting the knot, said my father, instead of untying it. - But
give me leave to lead you, brother Toby, a little deeper into this mystery.
    With all my heart, replied my uncle Toby.
    My father instantly exchanged the attitude he was in, for that in which
Socrates is so finely painted by Raffael in his school of Athens; which your
connoisseurship knows is so exquisitely imagined, that even the particular
manner of the reasoning of Socrates is expressed by it - for he holds the
fore-finger of his left-hand between the forefinger and thumb of his right, and
seems as if he was saying to the libertine he is reclaiming - »You grant me this
- and this: and this, and this, I don't ask of you - they follow of themselves
in course.«
    So stood my father, holding fast his fore-finger betwixt his finger and his
thumb, and reasoning with my uncle Toby as he sat in his old fringed chair,
valanced around with party-coloured worsted bobs - O Garrick! 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.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

Though 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 totter-ingly 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 Toby, that there is a secret spring within us - Which spring, said my
uncle Toby, I take to be Religion. - Will that set my child's nose on? cried my
father, letting go his finger, and striking one hand against the other - It
makes every thing straight for us, answered my uncle Toby - Figuratively
speaking, dear Toby, 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.
    Now, my dear brother, said my father, replacing his fore-finger, 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 irresistably 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 GEORGE or EDWARD would have spread around it.
    But alas! continued my father, as the greatest evil has befallen him - I
must counteract and undo it with the greatest good.
    He shall be christened Trismegistus, brother.
    I wish it may answer - replied my uncle Toby, rising up.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

What a chapter of chances, said my father, turning himself about upon the first
landing, as he and my uncle Toby were going down stairs - what a long chapter of
chances do the events of this world lay open to us! Take pen and ink in hand,
brother Toby, and calculate it fairly - I know no more of calculations than this
balluster, said my uncle Toby, (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 Toby. -- I thought, quoth my father, (rubbing his shin)
you had known nothing of calculations, brother Toby. - 'Twas a mere chance, said
my uncle Toby - Then it adds one to the chapter - replied my father.
    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 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 Toby's 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.
    Take pen and ink in hand, and calculate it fairly, brother Toby, 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.
    It might have been worse, replied my uncle Toby - I don't comprehend, said
my father - Suppose the hip had presented, replied my uncle Toby, as Dr. Slop
foreboded.
    My father reflected half a minute - looked down - touched the middle of his
forehead slightly with his finger -
    - True, said he.
 

                                    Chap. X

Is 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 Toby 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, Shandy - I drop it -- Strike a line
here across the paper, Tristram - I strike it - and hey for a new chapter?
    The duce 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?
    Now this, you must know, being my chapter upon chapters, which I promised to
write before I went to sleep, I thought it meet to ease my conscience entirely
before I lay'd 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 Diana's
temple - you must read Longinus - read away - if you are not a jot the wiser by
reading him the first time over - never fear - read him again - Avicenna and
Licetus read Aristotle's metaphysicks forty times through a-piece, and never
understood a single word. - But mark the consequence - Avicenna turned out a
desperate writer at all kinds of writing - for he wrote books de omni scribili;
and for Licetus (Fortunio) though all the world knows he was born a foetus13, 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 Gonopsychanthropologia, upon the origin of the human
soul.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

We shall bring all things to rights, said my father, setting his foot upon the
first step from the landing -- This Trismegistus, continued my father, drawing
his leg back, and turning to my uncle Toby - was the greatest (Toby) of all
earthly beings - he was the greatest king - the greatest lawgiver - the greatest
philosopher - and the greatest priest -- and engineer - said my uncle Toby. -
    - In course, said my father.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

- And how does your mistress? cried my father, taking the same step over again
from the landing, and calling to Susannah, whom he saw passing by the foot of
the stairs with a huge pin-cushion in her hand - how does your mistress? As
well, said Susannah, 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 Toby, 'tis ever the precise answer - And how is the child,
pray? - No answer. And where is doctor Slop? added my father, raising his voice
aloud, and looking over the ballusters - Susannah was out of hearing.
    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
Toby - of all the puzzling riddles, said he, in a marriage state, - of which you
may trust me, brother Toby, there are more asses loads than all Job's 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.
    I think rather, replied my uncle Toby, 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 Shandy, said my uncle Toby - 'Tis a piteous
burden upon 'em, continued he, shaking his head. - Yes, yes, 'tis a painful
thing - said 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.
    God bless
    Duce take
                    'em all - said my uncle Toby and my father, each to himself.
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

Holla! - you chairman! - here's sixpence - do step into that bookseller's shop,
and call me a day-tall 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 Toby off the stairs,
and to put them to bed. -
    - 'Tis even high time; for except a short nap, which they both got whilst
Trim 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 doctor Slop was led into the back parlour in
that dirty pickle by Obadiah.
    Was every day of my life to be as busy a day as this, - and to take up, -
truce -
    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.
    I am this month one whole year older than I was this time twelvemonth, and
having got, as you perceive, almost into the middle of my fourth volume - 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 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.
    Will this be good for your worships eyes?
    It will do well for mine; and, was it not that my OPINIONS will be the death
of me, I perceive shall lead a fine life of it out of this selfsame life of
mine; or, in other words, shall lead a couple of fine lives together.
    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 Horace 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 year.
-
    Heaven prosper the manufactures of paper under this propitious reign, which
is now open'd to us, - as I trust its providence will prosper every thing else
in it that is taken in hand. -
    As for the propagation of Geese - I give myself no concern - Nature is all
bountiful - I shall never want tools to work with.
    - So then, friend! you have got my father and my uncle Toby off the stairs,
and seen them to bed? - And how did you manage it? - You dropp'd a curtain at
the stairs foot - I thought you had no other way for it - Here's a crown for
your trouble.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

- Then reach me my breeches off the chair, said my father to Susannah - There is
not a moment's time to dress you, Sir, cried Susannah - 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 Susannah, the child's in a
fit - And where's Mr. Yorick - Never where he should be, said Susannah, 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 Shandy is
the godfather, whether it should not be called after him.
    Were one sure, said my father to himself, scratching his eye-brow, that the
child was expiring, one might as well compliment my brother Toby as not - and
'it would be a pity, in such a case, to throw away so great a name as Trismegistus
upon him - But he may recover.
    No, no, - said my father to Susannah, I'll get up -- There is no time, cried
Susannah, the child's as black as my shoe. Trismegistus, said my father - But
stay - thou art a leaky vessel Susannah, added my father; canst thou carry
Trismegistus in thy head, the length of the gallery without scattering - Can I?
cried Susannah, 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.
    Susannah ran with all speed along the gallery.
    My father made all possible speed to find his breeches.
    Susannah got the start, and kept it - 'Tis Tris - something, cried Susannah
- There is no christian name in the world, said the curate, beginning with Tris
- but Tristram. Then 'tis Tristram-gistus, quoth Susannah.
    - There is no gistus to it, noodle! - 'tis my own name, replied the curate,
dipping his hand as he spoke into the basin - Tristram! said he, etc. etc. etc.
etc. so Tristram was I called, and Tristram shall I be to the day of my death.
    My father followed Susannah 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.
    - 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 Susannah - And how does your mistress? As well, said Susannah, 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 Susannah, 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 chamber-maids - my
chapter of pishes, and my chapter of button-holes.
    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
returned along the gallery to bed, something slower than he came.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

I Wish I could write a chapter upon sleep.
    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.
    It is a fine subject!
    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.
    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.
    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 brokenhearted; 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 lays
down upon his back, that his soul shall be so seated within him, that which ever
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.
    - »God's blessing, said Sancho Panca, 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.
    - Not that I altogether disapprove of what Montaigne advances upon it - 'tis
admirable in its way. -- (I quote by memory.)
    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 Baylet says in the affair of
Liceti) n'est pas toujours du Coté de la Verité.« And so much for sleep.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

If my wife will but venture him - brother Toby, Trismegistus shall be dress'd
and brought down to us, whilst you and I are getting our breakfasts together. -
    - Go, tell Susannah, Obadiah, to step here.
    She is run up stairs, answered Obadiah, this very instant, sobbing and
crying, and wringing her hands as if her heart would break. -
    We shall have a rare month of it, said my father, turning his head from
Obadiah, and looking wistfully in my uncle Toby's face for some time - we shall
have a devilish month of it, brother Toby, said my father, setting his arms
a-kimbo, and shaking his head; fire, water, women, wind - brother Toby! - 'Tis
some misfortune, quoth my uncle Toby - 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 Toby, that
you and I possess ourselves, and sit here silent and unmoved, - whilst such a
storm is whistling over our heads. --
    - And what's the matter, Susannah? They have called the child Tristram --
and my mistress is just got out of an hysterick fit about it - No! - 'tis not my
fault, said Susannah - I told him it was Tristram-
    -- Make tea for yourself, brother Toby, 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!
    - For he spoke in the sweetest modulation - and took down his hat with the
gentlest movement of limbs, that ever affliction harmonized and attuned
together.
    - Go to the bowling-green for corporal Trim, said my uncle Toby, speaking to
Obadiah, as soon as my father left the room.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

When the misfortune of my NOSE 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 this misfortune of my NAME; -- no.
    The different weight, dear Sir, - nay even the different package of two
vexations of the same weight, - makes a very wide difference in our manners 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.
    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 any thing else in Nature,
would have given such immediate ease; She, dear Goddess, by an instantaneous
impulse, in all provoking cases, 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.
    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.
    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 any
thing like it: there is something, Sir, in fishponds - 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 Pythagoras, nor Plato, nor Solon, nor Licurgus, nor
Mahomet, nor any of your noted law-givers, ever gave order about them.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

Your honour, said Trim, shutting the parlour door before he began to speak, has
heard, I imagine, of this unlucky accident -- O yes, Trim! said my uncle Toby,
and it gives me great concern - I am heartily concerned too, but I hope your
honour, replied Trim, will do me the justice to believe, that it was not in the
least owing to me - To thee - Trim! - cried my uncle Toby, looking kindly in his
face - 'twas Susannah's 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 Toby.
    Trim 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 - Trim's
casuistry and address, under the cover of his low bow, prevented all suspicion
in my uncle Toby, so he went on with what he had to say to Trim as follows.
    - For my own part, Trim, though I can see little or no difference betwixt my
nephew's being called Tristram or Trismegistrus - yet as the thing sits so near
my brother's heart, Trim, - I would freely have given a hundred pounds rather
than it should have happened. - A hundred pounds, an'please your honour, replied
Trim, - I would not give a cherry-stone to boot - Nor would I, Trim, upon my own
account, quoth my uncle Toby - but my brother, whom there is no arguing with in
this case - maintains that a great deal more depends, Trim, 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 Tristram - nay he
will have it, Trim, that a man can neither be learned, or wise, or brave - 'Tis
all a fancy, an'please your honour - I fought just as well, replied the
corporal, when the regiment called me Trim, as when they called me James Butler
- And for my own part, said my uncle Toby, though I should blush to boast of
myself, Trim, - yet had my name been Alexander, I could have done no more at
Namur than my duty - Bless your honour! cried Trim, 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, Trim? cried my uncle Toby, looking firm - Or when
he enters a breach? said Trim, 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 Trim, presenting his stick like a firelock - Or when he marches
up the glacis, cried my uncle Toby, looking warm and setting his foot upon his
stool. --
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

My 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 Toby was
marching up the glacis - Trim recovered his arms - never was my uncle Toby
caught riding at such a desperate rate in his life! Alas! my uncle Toby! had not
a weightier matter called forth all the ready eloquence of my father - how hadst
thou then and thy poor HOBBY-HORSE too have been insulted!
    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 Toby, 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.
 
                            My Father's Lamentation.
 
It is in vain longer, said my father, addressing himself as much to Ernulphus's
curse, which was laid upon the corner of the chimney-piece, - as to my uncle
Toby who sat under it - it is in vain longer, said my father, in the most
querulous monotone 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 Toby, or the sins and follies of the Shandy-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
Shandy, said my uncle Toby, - if it was so - Unhappy Tristram! 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 Toby, 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 Toby, - '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 devil. -
    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 Toby, 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 teasing life did she lead herself, and consequently her foetus too, with that
nonsensical anxiety of hers about lying in in town? I thought my sister
submitted with the greatest patience, replied my uncle Toby -- 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 about the midwife
- There she gave vent, said my uncle Toby - Vent! cried my father, looking up -
    But what was all this, my dear Toby, 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, unrifled -
    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 averdupois weight acting so perpendicularly upon its apex - that at this
hour 'tis ninety per Cent. insurance, that the fine network of the intellectual
web be not rent and torn to a thousand tatters.
    - Still we could have done. -- Fool, coxcomb, puppy - give him but a NOSE -
Cripple, Dwarf, Driviller, Goosecap - (shape him as you will) the door of
Fortune stands open - O Licetus! Licetus! had I been blessed with a foetus five
inches long and a half, like thee - fate might have done her worst.
    Still, brother Toby, there was one cast of the dye, left for our child after
all - O Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!
    We will send for Mr. Yorick, said my uncle Toby.
    - You may send for whom you will, replied my father.
 

                                   Chap. XX.

What a rate have I gone on at, curvetting and frisking it away, two up and two
down for four volumes 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
jack-ass upon the road - So off I set - up one lane - down another, through this
turnpike - over that, as if the arch-jockeys had got behind me.
    Now ride at this rate with what good intention and resolution you may, -
'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 seat - he's down - he'll break his neck - see!
- if he has not galloped full amongst 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 madcap full tilt through a whole
crowd of painters, fiddlers, poets, biographers, physicians, lawyers, logicians,
players, schoolmen, churchmen, 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 high-way - But your horse throws dirt; see you've
splash'd a bishop - I hope in God, 'twas only Ernulphus, said I - But you have
squirted full in the faces of Mess. Le Moyne, De Romigny, and De Marcilly,
doctors of the Sorbonne - 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.
    - You have done it, replied my accuser.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

As Francis the First of France 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 state14 - it would not be amiss, said the king, stirring up the
embers with his cane, if this good understanding betwixt ourselves and
Switzerland 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 France - Poo! poo! answered the king -- there are more ways, Mons. le
Premier, of bribing states, besides that of giving money -- I'll pay Switzerland
the honour of standing godfather for my next child - Your majesty, said the
minister, in so doing, would have all the grammarians in Europe upon your back;
- Switzerland, as a republick, being a female, can in no construction be
godfather - She may be godmother, replied Francis, hastily - so announce my
intentions by a courier to morrow morning.
    I am astonished, said Francis the First, (that day fortnight) speaking to
his minister as he entered the closet, that we have had no answer from
Switzerland - Sire, I wait upon you this moment, said Mons. le Premier, 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.
    In all reason, quoth the king - she will christen him Francis, or Henry, or
Lewis, 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? - Shadrach, Mesech, and
Abed-nego, replied the minister - By saint Peter's girdle, I will have nothing
to do with the Swiss, cried Francis the First, pulling up his breeches and
walking hastily across the floor.
    Your majesty, replied the minister calmly, cannot bring yourself off.
    We'll pay them in money - said the king.
    Sire, there are not sixty thousand crowns in the treasury, answered the
minister -- I'll pawn the best jewel in my crown, quoth Francis the First.
    Your honour stands pawn'd already in this matter, answered Monsieur le
Premier.
    Then, Mons. le Premier, said the king, by -- we'll go to war with 'em.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

Albeit, gentle reader, I have lusted earnestly, and endeavoured carefully
(according to the measure of such 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
entreat thy lenity seriously - in beseeching thee to believe it of me, that in
the story of my father and his christen-names, - I had no thoughts of treading
upon Francis the First - nor in the affair of the nose - upon Francis the Ninth
- nor in the character of my uncle Toby - of characterizing the militiating
spirits of my country - the wound upon his groin, is a wound to every comparison
of that kind, - nor by Trim, - that I meant the duke of Ormond - 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 more convulsive elevation and depression of the
diaphragm, and the succussations of the intercostal and abdominal muscles in
laughter, to drive the gall and other bitter juices from the gall-bladder,
liver, and sweet-bread of his majesty's subjects, with all the inimicitious
passions which belong to them, down into their duodenums.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

- But can the thing be undone, Yorick? said my father - for in my opinion,
continued he, it cannot. I am a vile canonist, replied Yorick - 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 Yorick - we want, Mr. Shandy, 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 able of our school-divines, and others, are all to meet in the
middle of one table, and Didius has so pressingly invited you, - who in your
distress would miss such an occasion? All that is requisite, continued Yorick,
is to apprise Didius, and let him manage a conversation after dinner so as to
introduce the subject - Then my brother Toby, cried my father, clapping his two
hands together, shall go with us.
    - Let my old tye-wig, quoth my uncle Toby, and my laced regimentals, be hung
to the fire all night, Trim.
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

- No 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.
    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 Toby's,
Trim's, and Obadiah's setting out and journeying to the visitations at * * * *.
    We'll go in the coach, said my father - Prithee, have the arms been altered,
Obadiah? - 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 Shandy's, when the
coach was repainted 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
Turpilius the Roman, or Hans Holbein of Basil - 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 bend dexter, which since Harry the
Eighth's reign was honestly our due -- a bend sinister, by some of these
fatalities, had been drawn quite across the field of the Shandy-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 bend-sinister was taken out - but like the affair of the hinge, it was
one of the many things which the Destinies had set down in their books - ever to
be grumbled at (and in wiser families than ours) - but never to be mended.
    - Has the bend-sinister been brush'd out, I say? said my father - There has
been nothing brush'd out, Sir, answered Obadiah, but the lining. We'll go
o'horse-back, said my father, turning to Yorick - Of all things in the world,
except politicks, the clergy know the least of heraldry, said Yorick - No matter
for that, cried my father - I should be sorry to appear with a blot in my
escutcheon before them -- Never mind the bend-sinister, said my uncle Toby,
putting on his tye-wig - No, indeed, said my father, - you may go with my aunt
Dinah to a visitation with a bend-sinister, if you think fit - My poor uncle
Toby blush'd. My father was vexed at himself - No - my dear brother Toby, 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 December, January, and February last
winter - so if you please you shall ride my wife's pad - and as you are to
preach, Yorick, you had better make the best of your way before, - and leave me
to take care of my brother Toby, and to follow at our own rates.
    Now the chapter I was obliged to tear out, was the description of this
cavalcade, in which corporal Trim and Obadiah, upon two coach-horses a-breast,
led the way as slow as a patrole - whilst my uncle Toby, 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.
    - But the painting of this journey, upon reviewing it, appears to be so much
above the stile and manner of any thing 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 - be but in tune with
yourself, madam, 'tis no matter how high or how low you take it. -
    - This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that some of the lowest
and flattest compositions pass off very well - (as Yorick told my uncle Toby one
night) by siege. - My uncle Toby looked brisk at the sound of the word siege,
but could make neither head or tail of it.
    I'm to preach at court next Sunday, said Homenas - run over my notes - so I
humm'd over doctor Homenas's notes - the modulation's very well - 'twill do,
Homenas, if it holds on at this rate - so on I humm'd - and a tolerable tune I
thought it was; and to this hour, may it please your reverences, had never found
out how long, 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 Montaigne
complained in a parallel accident - had I found the declivity easy, or the
ascent accessible - certes I had been outwitted - Your notes, Homenas, 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.
    A dwarf who brings a standard along with him to measure his own size - take
my word, is a dwarf in more articles than one - And so much for tearing out of
chapters.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

- See if he is not cutting it all into slips, and giving them about him to light
their pipes! - 'Tis abominable, answered Didius; it should not go unnoticed,
said doctor Kysarcius - he was of the Kysarcij of the low countries.
    Methinks, said Didius, half rising from his chair, in order to remove a
bottle and a tall decanter, which stood in a direct line betwixt him and Yorick
- you might have spared this sarcastick stroke, and have hit upon a more proper
place, Mr. Yorick - or at least upon a more proper occasion to have shown 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.
    - I have got him fast hung up, quoth Didius to himself, upon one of the two
horns of my dilemma - let him get off as he can.
    I have undergone such unspeakable torments, in bringing forth this sermon,
quoth Yorick, upon this occasion, - that I declare, Didius, 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 show the extent of our reading, or the
subtleties of our wit - to parade it in the eyes of the vulgar with the beggarly
accounts of a little learning, tinseled 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 Yorick, I had rather direct five words
point blank to the heart -
    As Yorick pronounced the word point blank, my uncle Toby 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

Zounds! -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Z--ds! cried Phutatorius, 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 of one in bodily pain.
    One or two who had very nice ears, and could distinguish the expression and
mixture of the two tones as plainly as a third or a fifth, 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.
    Others who knew nothing of musical expression, and merely lent their ears to
the plain import of the word, imagined that Phutatorius, who was somewhat of a
cholerick spirit, was just going to snatch the cudgels out of Didius's hands, in
order to bemawl Yorick 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 Toby's good
nature felt a pang for what Yorick was about to undergo. But seeing Phutatorius
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.
    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 Yorick, 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 Phutatorius's 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 Phutatorius's heart, by the stroke
of surprise which so strange a theory of preaching had excited.
    How finely we argue upon mistaken facts!
    There was not a soul busied in all these various reasonings upon the
monosyllable which Phutatorius uttered, - who did not take this for granted,
proceeding upon it as from an axiom, namely, that Plutatorius's mind was intent
upon the subject of debate which was arising between Didius and Yorick; 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 Phutatorius 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 Galligaskins, 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 Yorick, who sat over-against him - Yet I say,
was Yorick never once in any one domicile of Phutatorius's brain - but the true
cause of his exclamation lay at least a yard below.
    This I will endeavour to explain to you with all imaginable decency.
    You must be informed then, that Gastripheres, 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
- Gastripheres inforcing his orders about them, that Didius, but Phutatorius
especially, were particularly fond of 'em.
    About two minutes before the time that my uncle Toby interrupted Yorick's
harangue - Gastriphere's chesnuts were brought in - and as Phutatorius's
fondness for 'em was uppermost in the waiter's head, he laid them directly
before Phutatorius, wrapt up hot in a clean damask napkin.
    Now whether it was physically impossible, with half a dozen hands all thrust
into the napkin at a time - but that some one chestnut, 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 Phutatorius sat straddling
under - it fell perpendicularly into that particular aperture of Phutatorius's
breeches, for which, to the shame and indelicacy of our language be it spoke,
there is no chaste word throughout all Johnson's 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 Janus (in peace at least) to be
universally shut up.
    The neglect of this punctilio in Phutatorius (which by the bye should be a
warning to all mankind) had opened a door to this accident. -
    - Accident, I call it, in compliance to a received mode of speaking, - but
in no opposition to the opinion either of Acrites or Mythogeras 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
chestnut's taking that particular course, and in a manner of its accord - and
then falling with all its heat directly into that one particular place, and no
other -- was a real judgment upon Phutatorius, for that filthy and obscene
treatise de Concubinis retinendis, which Phutatorius had published about twenty
years ago - and was that identical week going to give the world a second edition
of.
    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 Phutatorius's breeches was sufficiently wide to
receive the chestnut; - and that the chestnut, some how or other, did fall
perpendicularly and piping hot into it, without Phutatorius's perceiving it, or
any one else at that time.
    The genial warmth which the chestnut imparted, was not undelectable for the
first twenty or five and twenty seconds, - and did no more than gently solicit
Phutatorius's 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
Phutatorius, together with all his ideas, his thoughts, his attention, his
imagination, judgment, resolution, deliberation, ratiocination, memory, fancy,
with ten batallions of animal spirits, all tumultuously crowded down, through
different defiles and circuits, to the place in danger, leaving all his upper
regions, as you may imagine, as empty as my purse.
    With the best intelligence which all these messengers could bring him back,
Phutatorius 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 Newt or an Asker, 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 chestnut, seized Phutatorius 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 discanted upon, with the aposiopestick 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, Phutatorius could no more help than he could the
cause of it.
    Though this has taken up some time in the narrative, it took up little more
time in the transaction, than just to allow time for Phutatorius to draw forth
the chestnut, and throw it down with violence upon the floor - and for Yorick, to
rise from his chair, and pick the chestnut up.
    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 immovably within it, - that Euclid's demonstrations, could they
be brought to batter it in breach, should not all have power to overthrow it.
    Yorick, I said, picked up the chestnut which Phutatorius's 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 chestnut not a jot worse for the adventure -
and that he held a good chestnut worth stooping for. - But this incident,
trifling as it was, wrought differently in Phutatorius's head: He considered
this act of Yorick's, in getting off his chair, and picking up the chestnut, as a
plain acknowledgement in him, that the chestnut was originally his, - and in
course, that it must have been the owner of the chestnut, and no one else, who
could have plaid 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 Yorick, who sat directly overagainst
Phutatorius, of slipping the chestnut in - and consequently that he did it. The
look of something more than suspicion, which Phutatorius cast full upon Yorick
as these thoughts arose, too evidently spoke his opinion - and as Phutatorius
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.
    When great or unexpected events fall out upon the stage of this sublunary
world - the mind of man, which is an inquisitive kind of a 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.
    It was well known that Yorick had never a good opinion of the treatise which
Phutatorius had wrote de Concubinis retinendis, as a thing which he feared had
done hurt in the world - and 'twas easily found out, that there was a mystical
meaning in Yorick's prank - and that his chucking the chestnut hot into
Phutatorius's * * * - * * * * *, was a sarcastical fling at his book - the
doctrines of which, they said, had inflamed many an honest man in the same
place.
    This conceit awaken'd Somnolentus - made Agelastes smile - and if you can
recollect the precise look and air of a man's face intent in finding out a
riddle - it threw Gastriphere's into that form - and in short was thought by
many to be a master-stroke of arch-wit.
    This, as the reader has seen from one end to the other, was as groundless as
the dreams of philosophy: Yorick, no doubt, as Shakespeare said of his ancestor -
»was a man of jest,« 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 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.
    This heroic cast produced him inconveniences in many respects - in the
present, it was followed by the fixed resentment of Phutatorius, who, as Yorick
had just made an end of his chestnut, 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.
    But you must mark and carefully separate and distinguish these two things in
your mind.
    - The smile was for the company.
    - The threat was for Yorick.
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

- Can you tell me, quoth Phutatorius, speaking to Gastripheres who sat next to
him, - for one would not apply to a surgeon in so foolish an affair, - can you
tell me, Gastripheres, what is best to take out the fire? - Ask Eugenius, said
Gastripheres - That greatly depends, said Eugenius, 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
Phutatorius, 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 Eugenius, I would advise you,
Phutatorius, 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 Yorick (who sat next to his friend Eugenius) 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 Eugenius, and is of any outward application I
would venture to recommend the most anodyne and safe.
    Was it my case, said Gastripheres, 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 Yorick - And besides, added Eugenius, 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 Phutatorius, that the second edition of my treatise de
Concubinis retinendis, is at this instant in the press - You may take any leaf
of it, said Eugenius - No matter which - provided, quoth Yorick, there is no
bawdry in it -
    They are just now, replied Phutatorius, printing off the ninth chapter -
which is the last chapter but one in the book - Pray what is the title to that
chapter, said Yorick, making a respectful bow to Phutatorius as he spoke - I
think, answered Phutatorius, 'tis that, de re concubinariâ.
    For heaven's sake keep out of that chapter, quoth Yorick.
    - By all means - added Eugenius.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

- Now, quoth Didius, 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
Toby to himself) and when baptism was administer'd in Latin -- ('Twas all in
English, 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 Latin tongue, baptized a child of
Tom-o'Stiles, in nomino patriæ &amp; filia &amp; spiritum sanctos, - the baptism
was held null - I beg your pardon, replied Kysarcius, - in that case, as the
mistake was only in the terminations, 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. -
    My father delighted in subtleties of this kind, and listen'd with infinite
attention.
    Gastripheres, for example, continued Kysarcius, baptizes a child of John
Stradling's, in Gomine gatris, etc. etc. instead of in Nomine patris, etc. - Is
this a baptism? No, - say the ablest canonists; inasmuch 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 Gomine does not signify a name, nor gatris a father
- What do they signify? said my uncle Toby - Nothing at all - quoth Yorick -
Ergo, such a baptism is null, said Kysarcius - In course, answered Yorick, in a
tone two parts jest and one part earnest -
    But in the case cited, continued Kysarcius, where patrim is put for patris,
filia for filij, and so on - as it is a fault only in the declension, and the
roots of the words continue untouch'd, the inflexions 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 Didius, the intention of
the priest's pronouncing them grammatically, must have been proved to have gone
along with it - Right, answered Kysarcius; and of this, brother Didius, we have
an instance in a decree of the decretals of Pope Leo the IIId. - But my
brother's child, cried my uncle Toby, has nothing to do with the Pope - 'tis the
plain child of a Protestant gentleman, christen'd Tristram against the wills and
wishes both of its father and mother, and all who are a-kin to it -
    If the wills and wishes, said Kysarcius, interrupting my uncle Toby, of
those only who stand related to Mr. Shandy's child, were to have weight in this
matter, Mrs. Shandy, of all people, has the least to do in it - My uncle Toby
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.
    It has not only been a question, captain Shandy, amongst the15 best lawyers
and civilians in this land, continued Kysarcius, »Whether the mother be of kin
to her child,« - but after much dispassionate enquiry and jactitation of the
arguments on all sides, - it has been adjudged for the negative, - namely, »That
the mother is not of kin to her child16.« My father instantly clapp'd his hand
upon my uncle Toby's mouth, under colour of whispering in his ear - the truth
was, he was alarmed for Lillabullero - and having a great desire to hear more of
so curious an argument - he begg'd my uncle Toby, for heaven's sake, not to
disappoint him in it - My uncle Toby gave a nod - resumed his pipe, and
contenting himself with whistling Lillabullero inwardly - Kysarcius, Didius, and
Triptolemus went on with the discourse as follows.
    This determination, continued Kysarcius, 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 Suffolk's case: - It is cited in Brook, said Triptolemus
- And taken notice of by Lord Coke, added Didius - And you may find it in
Swinburn on Testaments, said Kysarcius.
    The case, Mr. Shandy, was this.
    In the reign of Edward the Sixth, Charles Duke of Suffolk 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 Harry 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.
    The administration being thus (surreptitiously) granted to the mother, the
sister by the father's side commenced a suit before the Ecclesiastical Judge,
alleging, 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 pray'd 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.
    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 Canterbury and York, with the master of the faculties, were all
unanimously of opinion, That the mother was not of17 kin to her child -
    And what said the Duchess of Suffolk to it? said my uncle Toby.
    The unexpectedness of my uncle Toby's question, confounded Kysarcius more
than the ablest advocate -- He stopp'd a full minute, looking in my uncle Toby's
face without replying - and in that single minute Triptolemus put by him, and
took the lead as follows.
    'Tis a ground and principle in the law, said Triptolemus, 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 or 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, Liberi sunt de sanguine patris &amp; matris, sed pater et mater non sunt
de sanguine liberorum.
    - But this, Triptolemus, cried Didius, 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 Triptolemus, the better opinion; because the father, the mother, and
the child, though they be three persons, yet are they but (una caro18) one
flesh; and consequently no degree of kindred - or any method of acquiring one in
nature - There you push the argument again too far, cried Didius - for there is
no prohibition in nature, 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
Kysarcius, of laying with his grandmother? -- The young gentleman, replied
Yorick, whom Selden 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'd, Sir, with my mother, said the lad - why may not I lay with yours?«
-- 'Tis the Argumentum commune, added Yorick. - 'Tis as good, replied Eugenius,
taking down his hat, as they deserve.
    The company broke up --
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

- And pray, said my uncle Toby, leaning upon Yorick, 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, Yorick, said my
uncle Toby, which way is this said affair of Tristram at length settled by these
learned men? Very satisfactorily, replied Yorick; no mortal, Sir, has any
concern with it - for Mrs. Shandy the mother is nothing at all akin to him - and
as the mother's is the surest side - Mr. Shandy, in course, is still less than
nothing - In short, he is not as much akin to him, Sir, as I am -
    - That may well be, said my father, shaking his head.
    - Let the learned say what they will, there must certainly, quoth my uncle
Toby, have been some sort of consanguinity betwixt the duchess of Suffolk and
her son -
    The vulgar are of the same opinion, quoth Yorick, to this hour.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

Though 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, so much assist perspiration and digestion, as
Hippocrates 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 Dinah -
    My father had scarce read the letter, when taking the thing by the right
end, he instantly begun 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 Rome - he would go to law - he would buy stock - he would buy John Hobson's
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 enclose the great Ox-moor, and send out my brother Bobby
immediately upon his travels.
    But as the sum was finite, and consequently could not do every thing - 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.
    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 Missisippi-scheme, in which he was an adventurer - yet the
Ox-moor, which was a fine, large, whinny, undrained, unimproved common,
belonging to the Shandy-estate, had almost as old a claim upon him: He had long
and affectionately set his heart upon turning it likewise to some account.
    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 dismissal of every other project at this crisis,
-- the two old projects, the OX-MOOR and my BROTHER, 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.
    - People may laugh as they will -- but the case was this.
    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 - tantum valet, my father would
say, quantum sonat.
    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 Shandy unwhirl'd about Europe in a post-chaise, and only
because he was a heavy lad - would be using him ten times worse than a Turk.
    On the other hand, the case of the Ox-moor was full as hard.
    Exclusive of the original purchase-money, which was eight hundred pounds -
it had cost the family eight hundred pounds more in a lawsuit about fifteen
years before - besides the Lord knows what trouble and vexation.
    It had been moreover in possession of the Shandy-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 (Obadiah said) who understood the value of land, to have rode over it,
and only seen the condition it was in.
    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.
    I think there must certainly have been a mixture of ill-luck 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 Toby -
arguing with Yorick, and talking over the whole affair of the Ox-moor with
Obadiah - 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.
    For to be sure, with proper helps, and in the hands of some people, tho' the
Ox-moor would undoubtedly have made a different appearance in the world from
what it did, or ever would do in the condition it lay - yet every tittle of this
was true, with regard to my brother Bobby - let Obadiah say what he would. --
    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 expense of paring and burning, and fencing in
the Ox-moor, etc. etc. - 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 Ox-moor 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 suspense - that, as he often declared
to my uncle Toby - he knew no more than his heels what to do.
    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 havoc, which by a certain consequence is unavoidably made by it all over
the finer system of the nerves, which you know convey the animal 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.
    My father had certainly sunk under this evil, as certainly as he had done
under that of my CHRISTIAN NAME - had he not been rescued out of it as he was
out of that, by a fresh evil - the misfortune of my brother Bobby's death.
    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!
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

From this moment I am to be considered as heir-apparent to the Shandy family -
and it is from this point properly, that the story of my LIFE and my OPINIONS
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 Adam. 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 inkhorn, 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 name the chapter of THINGS
- and my next chapter to it, that is, the first chapter of my next volume, if I
live, shall be my chapter upon WHISKERS, in order to keep up some sort of
connection in my works.
    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 Toby, 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
Tristram! Tristram! can this but be once brought about --the credit, 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 other! -
    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 declare. - I shall never get all through in five minutes, that I fear -
and the thing I hope 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 Jenny's way - but who my Jenny is - and which is
the right and which the wrong end of a woman, is the thing to be concealed - it
shall be told you the next chapter but one, to my chapter of button-holes, - and
not one chapter before.
    And now that you have just got to the end of these four volumes -- the thing
I have to ask is, how you feel your heads? my own akes dismally - as for your
healths, I know, they are much better -- True Shandeism, 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 thro' its channels, and makes the wheel of life run long and
cheerfully round.
    Was I left like Sancho Pança, 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 WISE as they were MERRY;
and then should I be the happiest monarch, and they the happiest people under
heaven -
    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 mean time) I'll have another pluck at
your beards, and lay open a story to the world you little dream of.
 
                                     Finis.
 

                                   Volume V.

 Dixero si quid fortè jocosius, hoc mihi juris
 Cum venia dabis. --
                                                                            Hor.
 
            - Si quis calumnietur levius esse quam decet theologum, aut
            mordacius quam deceat Christianum - non Ego, sed Democritus dixit.
            --
                                                                        Erasmus.
 

                         To the Right Honourable John,

                             Lord Viscount Spencer.

My Lord,
    I humbly beg leave to offer you these two Volumes; 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.
    I beg your Lordship will forgive me, if, at the same time I dedicate this
work to you, I join Lady Spencer, in the liberty I take of inscribing the story
of Le Fever in the sixth volume 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.
I am,
My Lord,
Your Lordship's
Most devoted,
                                                        And most humble Servant,
                                                                   Laur. Sterne.
 

                                    Chap. I.

If it had not been for those two mettlesome tits, and that madcap of a
postilion, 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.«
    The London wagon confirmed me in my resolution: it hung tottering upon the
hill, scarce progressive, drag'd - drag'd up by eight heavy beasts -- »by main
strength! - quoth I, nodding - but your betters draw the same way - and
something of every bodies! -- O rare!«
    Tell me, ye learned, shall we for ever be adding so much to the bulk - so
little to the stock?
    Shall we for ever make new books, as apothecaries make new mixtures, by
pouring only out of one vessel into another?
    Are we for ever to be twisting, and untwisting the same rope? for ever in
the same track - for ever at the same pace?
    Shall we be destined to the days of eternity, on holy-days, as well as
working-days, to be showing the relicks of learning, as monks do the relicks of
their saints - without working one - one single miracle with them?
    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
miracle of nature, as Zoroaster in his book peri pyseos called him - the
SHEKINAH of the divine presence, as Chrysostom - the image of God, as Moses -
the ray of divinity, as Plato - the marvel of marvels, as Aristotle - to go
sneaking on at this pitiful - pimping - pettifogging rate?
    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 Great Britain, France, and Ireland, had the farcy for his pains; and
that there was a good farcical house, large enough to hold - aye - and sublimate
them, shag-rag and bob-tail, male and female, all together: and this leads me to
the affair of Whiskers -- but, by what chain of ideas - I leave as a legacy in
mort main to Prudes and Tartufs, to enjoy and make the most of.
 
                                 Upon Whiskers.
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.
 
                                 The Fragment.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * -- 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 Whiskers
-- shall we change the subject? By no means, replied the old lady - I like your
account of these 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.
    The old gentleman went on as follows. -- Whiskers! cried the queen of
Navarre, dropping her knotting-ball, as La Fosseuse uttered the word --
Whiskers; madam, said La Fosseuse, pinning the ball to the queen's apron, and
making a courtesy as she repeated it.
    La Fosseuse's voice was naturally soft and low, yet 'twas an articulate
voice: and every letter of the word whiskers fell distinctly upon the queen of
Navarre's ear - Whiskers! cried the queen, laying a greater stress upon the
word, and as if she had still distrusted her ears - Whiskers; replied La
Fosseuse, repeating the word a third time - There is not a cavalier, madam, of
his age in Navarre, continued the maid of honour, pressing the page's interest
upon the queen, that has so gallant a pair - Of what? cried Margaret, smiling --
Of whiskers, said La Fosseuse, with infinite modesty.
    The word whiskers still stood its ground, and continued to be made use of in
most of the best companies throughout the little kingdom of Navarre,
notwithstanding the indiscreet use which La Fosseuse had made of it: the truth
was, La Fosseuse 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 Margaret, 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, -- they were divided. --
    The excellency of the figure and mien of the young Sieur de Croix, was at
that time beginning to draw the attention of the maids of honour towards the
terras before the palace gate, where the guard was mounted. The lady de
Baussiere fell deeply in love with him, - La Battarelle did the same - it was
the finest weather for it, that ever was remembered in Navarre - La Guyol, La
Maronette, La Sabatiere, fell in love with the Sieur de Croix also - La Rebours
and La Fosseuse knew better - De Croix had failed in an attempt to recommend
himself to La Rebours; and La Rebours and La Fosseuse were inseparable.
    The queen of Navarre was sitting with her ladies in the painted bow-window,
facing the gate of the second court, as De Croix passed through it - He is
handsome, said the Lady Baussiere. - He has a good mien, said La Battarelle. -
He is finely shaped, said La Guyol. - I never saw an officer of the horse-guards
in my life, said La Maronette, with two such legs - Or who stood so well upon
them, said La Sabatiere -- But he has no whiskers, cried La Fosseuse - Not a
pile, said La Rebours.
    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 -- Ave Maria  -- what can La Fosseuse mean? said she, kneeling down upon
the cushion.
    La Guyol, La Battarelle, La Maronette, La Sabatiere, retired instantly to
their chambers - Whiskers! said all four of them to themselves, as they bolted
their doors on the inside.
    The Lady Carnavallette was counting her beads with both hands, unsuspected
under her farthingal - from St. Antony down to St. Ursula inclusive, not a saint
passed through her fingers without whiskers; St. Francis, St. Dominick, St.
Bennet, St. Basil, St. Bridget, had all whiskers.
    The Lady Baussiere had got into a wilderness of conceits, with moralizing
too intricately upon La Fosseuse's text - She mounted her palfry, her page
followed her - the host passed by - the lady Baussiere rode on.
    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.
    - The Lady Baussiere rode on.
    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 Cod and all his
angels to witness - 'tis to cloath the naked - to feed the hungry - 'tis to
comfort the sick and the broken hearted.
    - The Lady Baussiere rode on.
    A decayed kinsman bowed himself to the ground.
    - The Lady Baussiere rode on.
    He ran begging bare-headed on one side of her palfry, 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.
    - The Lady Baussiere rode on.
    Take hold of my whiskers, said the Lady Baussiere -- The page took hold of
her palfry. She dismounted at the end of the terrace.
    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.
    Ha, ha! hee, hee! cried La Guyol and La Sabatiere, looking close at each
others prints -- Ho, ho! cried La Battarelle and Maronette, doing the same: -
Whist! cried one - st, st, - said a second, - hush, quoth a third -- poo, poo,
replied a fourth - gramercy! cried the Lady Carnavallette; - 'twas she who
bewhisker'd St. Bridget.
    La Fosseuse 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 La Rebours's hand - La Rebours shook her head.
    The Lady Baussiere cough'd thrice into the inside of her muff - La Guyol
smiled - Fy, said the Lady Baussiere. The queen of Navarre touched her eye with
the tip of her fore finger - as much as to say, I understand you all.
    'Twas plain to the whole court the word was ruined: La Fosseuse 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 de Croix, finding it high time to leave Navarre for want of whiskers - the
word in course became indecent, and (after a few efforts) absolutely unfit for
use.
    The best word, in the best language of the best world, must have suffered
under such combinations. - The curate of d'Estella wrote a book against them,
setting forth the dangers of accessory ideas, and warning the Navarois against
them.
    Does not all the world know, said the curate d'Estella at the conclusion of
his work, that Noses ran the same fate some centuries ago in most parts of
Europe, which Whiskers have now done in the kingdom of Navarre - The evil indeed
spread no further then -, but have not beds and bolsters, and night-caps 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 rampaging and a roaring lion.
    The drift of the curate d'Estella's argument was not understood. - They ran
the scent the wrong way. - The world bridled his ass at the tail. - And when the
extreams of DELICACY, and the beginnings of CONCUPISCENCE, hold their next
provincial chapter together, they may decree that bawdy also.
 

                                   Chap. II.

When my father received the letter which brought him the melancholy account of
my brother Bobby's death, he was busy calculating the expense of his riding post
from Calais to Paris, and so on to Lyons.
    'Twas a most inauspicious journey; my father having had 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 Obadiah's 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, Obadiah, said
my father, (pursuing his journey) - take the coach-horse, and welcome. - But he
wants a shoe, poor creature! said Obadiah. - Poor creature! said my uncle Toby,
vibrating the note back again, like a string in unison. Then ride the Scotch
horse, quoth my father hastily. - He cannot bear a saddle upon his back, quoth
Obadiah, for the whole world. -- The devil's in that horse; then take PATRIOT,
cried my father, and shut the door. -- PATRIOT is sold, said Obadiah. - Here's
for you! cried my father, making a pause, and looking in my uncle Toby's face,
as if the thing had not been a matter of fact. - Your worship ordered me to sell
him last April, said Obadiah. - Then go on foot for your pains, cried my father.
- I had much rather walk than ride, said Obadiah, shutting the door.
    What plagues! cried my father, going on with his calculation. - But the
waters are out, said Obadiah, - opening the door again.
    Till that moment, my father, who had a map of Sanson's, 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 Nevers, the last stage he had paid for - purposing
to go on from that point with his journey and calculation, as soon as Obadiah
quitted the room; but this second attack of Obadiah's, 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 betwixt accident and anger, he threw them upon the
table; and then there was nothing for him to do, but to return back to Calais
(like many others) as wise as he had set out.
    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 Nevers. - By your leave, Mons.
Sanson, cried my father, striking the point of his compasses through Nevers into
the table, - and nodding to my uncle Toby, to see what was in the letter, -
twice of one night is too much for an English gentleman and his son, Mons.
Sanson, to be turned back from so lousy a town as Nevers, - what think'st thou,
Toby, added my father in a sprightly tone. - Unless it be a garrison town, said
my uncle Toby, - for then - I shall be a fool, said my father, smiling to
himself, as long as I live. - So giving a second nod - and keeping his compasses
still upon Nevers 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 Toby hummed over the letter.
    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - he's gone! said my uncle Toby. - Where - Who? cried my father. - My
nephew, said my uncle Toby. -- What - without leave - without money -- without
governor? cried my father in amazement. No: - he is dead, my dear brother, quoth
my uncle Toby. - Without being ill? cried my father again. - I dare say not,
said my uncle Toby, 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.
    When Agrippina was told of her son's death, Tacitus 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 Nevers, but so much the faster. - What
contrarieties! his, indeed, was a matter of calculation - Agrippina's must have
been quite a different affair; who else could pretend to reason from history?
    How my father went on, in my opinion, deserves a chapter to itself. --
 

                                   Chap. III.

-- -- And a chapter it shall have, and a devil of a one too - so look to
yourselves.
    'Tis either Plato, or Plutarch, or Seneca, or Xenophon, or Epictetus, or
Theophrastus, or Lucian - or some one perhaps of later date - either Cardan, or
Budæus, or Petrarch, or Stella - or possibly it may be some divine or father of
the church, St. Austin, or St. Cyprian, or Barnard, who affirms that it is an
irresistible and natural passion to weep for the loss of our friends or children
- and Seneca (I'm positive) tells us somewhere, that such griefs evacuate
themselves best by that particular channel. - And accordingly we find, that
David wept for his son Absolom - Adrian for his Antinous - Niobe for her
children, and that Apollodorus and Crito both shed tears for Socrates before his
death.
    My father managed his affliction otherwise; and indeed differently from most
men either ancient or modern; for he neither wept it away, as the Hebrews and
the Romans - or slept it off, as the Laplanders - or hang'd it, as the English,
or drowned it, as the Germans - nor did he curse it, or damn it, or
excommunicate it, or rhyme it, or lillabullero it. --
    -- He got rid of it, however.
    Will your worships give me leave to squeeze in a story between these two
pages?
    When Tully was bereft of his dear daughter Tullia, at first he laid it to
his heart, - he listened to the voice of nature, and modulated his own unto it.
- O my Tullia! my daughter! my child! - still, still, still, - 'twas O my
Tullia! -- my Tullia! Methinks I see my Tullia, I hear my Tullia, I talk with my
Tullia. - 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 - no body
upon earth can conceive, says the great orator, how happy, how joyful it made
me.
    My father was as proud of his eloquence as MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO 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 show his
talents, or say either a wise thing, a witty, or a shrewd one - (bating the case
of a systematick misfortune) - he had all he wanted. - A blessing which tied up
my father's tongue, and a misfortune which set 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 ten, and the pain of the
misfortune but as five - my father gained half in half, and consequently was as
well again off, as it never had befallen him.
    This clue will unravel, what otherwise would seem very inconsistent in my
father's domestick 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.
    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 door ready for mounting. By some neglect or other in Obadiah, 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.
    My mother and my uncle Toby expected my father would be the death of Obadiah
- 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
Obadiah. - How do I know that? replied my father.
    Triumph swam in my father's eyes, at the repartee - the Attic salt brought
water into them - and so Obadiah heard no more about it.
    Now let us go back to my brother's death.
    Philosophy has a fine saying for every thing. - For Death 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 any thing of a consistent show
out of them. - He took them as they came.«
    »'Tis an inevitable chance - the first statute in Magnâ Chartâ - it is an
everlasting act of parliament, my dear brother, -- All must die.«
    »If my son could not have died, it had been matter of wonder, - not that he
is dead.«
    »Monarchs and princes dance in the same ring with us.«
    »- To die, 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 Shandy, said my uncle Toby, laying down his pipe at
the word evolutions - Revolutions, I meant, quoth my father, - by heaven! I
meant revolutions, brother Toby - evolutions is nonsense. - 'Tis not nonsense -
said my uncle Toby. -- But is it not nonsense to break the thread of such a
discourse, upon such an occasion? cried my father - do not - dear Toby,
continued he, taking him by the hand, do not - do not, I beseech thee, interrupt
me at this crisis. - My uncle Toby put his pipe into his mouth.
    »Where is Troy and Mycenæ, and Thebes and Delos, and Persepolis, and
Agrigentum« - continued my father, taking up his book of post-roads, which he
had laid down. - »What is become, brother Toby, of Nineveh and Babylon, of
Cizicum and Mitylenæ? 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 piecemeals to decay, and in length of time will be
forgotten, and involved with every thing in a perpetual night: the world itself,
brother Toby, must - must come to an end.
    Returning out of Asia, when I sailed from Ægina towards Megara,« (when can
this have been? thought my uncle Toby) »I began to view the country round about.
Ægina was behind me, Megara was before, Pyræus on the right hand, Corinth 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 man.« -
    Now my uncle Toby knew not that this last paragraph was an extract of
Servius Sulpicius's consolatory letter to Tully. - 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 Turky trade, had been three or four
different times in the Levant, in one of which he had staid a whole year and a
half at Zant, my uncle Toby naturally concluded, that in some one of these
periods he had taken a trip across the Archipelago into Asia; and that all this
sailing affair with Ægina behind, and Megara before, and Pyræus on the right
hand, etc. etc. was nothing more than the true course of my father's voyage and
reflections. - 'Twas certainly in his manner, and many an undertaking critick
would have built two stories higher upon worse foundations. - And pray, brother,
quoth my uncle Toby, 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 Toby. - Simpleton! said my father, - 'twas
forty years before Christ was born.
    My uncle Toby had but two things for it; either to suppose his brother to be
the wandering Jew, or that his misfortunes had disordered his brain. - »May the
Lord God of heaven and earth protect him and restore him,« said my uncle Toby,
praying silently for my father, and with tears in his eyes.
    - My father placed the tears to a proper account, and went on with his
harangue with great spirit.
    »There is not such great odds, brother Toby, betwixt good and evil, as the
world imagines« -- (this way of setting off, by the bye, was not likely to cure
my uncle Toby's suspicions.) - »Labour, sorrow, grief, sickness, want, and woe,
are the sauces of life.« - Much good may it do them - said my uncle Toby to
himself. --
    »My son is dead! - so much the better; - 'tis a shame in such a tempest to
have but one anchor.«
    »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.«
    »The Thracians wept when a child was born« - (and we were very near it,
quoth my uncle Toby) - »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.«
    »Shew me the man, who knows what life is, who dreads it, and I'll show thee
a prisoner who dreads his liberty.«
    Is it not better, my dear brother Toby, (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 physick to cure it?
    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?
    There is no terror, brother Toby, 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 Toby. - Take away its
herses, its mutes, and its mourning, - its plumes, scutcheons, and other
mechanic aids - What is it? - Better in battle! continued my father, smiling,
for he had absolutely forgot my brother Bobby - 'tis terrible no way - for
consider, brother Toby, - when we are - death is not; and when death is - we are
not. My uncle Toby 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 Toby's ideas along with it. -
    For this reason, continued my father, 'tis worthy to recollect, how little
alteration in great men, the approaches of death have made. - Vespasian died in
a jest upon his close stool - Galba with a sentence - Septimius Severus in a
dispatch - Tiberius in dissimulation, and Cæsar Augustus in a compliment. - I
hope, 'twas a sincere one - quoth my uncle Toby.
    - 'Twas to his wife, - said my father.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

- 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
fabrick - crowns all. -
    'Tis of Cornelius Gallus, the prætor - which I dare say, brother Toby, 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 Toby - there could be no hurt in it. - That's more than I know -
replied my father.
 

                                    Chap. V.

My mother was going very gingerly in the dark along the passage which led to the
parlour, as my uncle Toby pronounced the word wife. - 'Tis a shrill, penetrating
sound of itself, and Obadiah 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.
    In this attitude I am determined to let her stand for five minutes: till I
bring up the affairs of the kitchen (as Rapin does those of the church) to the
same period.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

Though in one sense, our family was certainly a simple machine, as it consisted
of a few wheels; yet there was thus much to be 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
Dutch silk-mill.
    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.
    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 any thing 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 Dardanells, but wide
enough, for all that, to carry on as much of this windward trade, as was
sufficient to save my father the trouble of governing his house; - my mother at
this moment stands profiting by it. - Obadiah 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 his
harangue, - had Trim got upon his legs, to speak his sentiments upon the
subject.
    A curious observer of nature, had he been worth the inventory of all Job's
stock - though, by the bye, your curious observers are seldom worth a groat -
would have given the half of it, to have heard Corporal Trim and my father, two
orators so contrasted by nature and education, haranguing over the same bier.
    My father a man of deep reading - prompt memory - with Cato, and Seneca, and
Epictetus, at his fingers ends. -
    The corporal - with nothing - to remember - of no deeper reading than his
muster-roll - or greater names at his finger's end, than the contents of it.
    The one proceeding from period to period, by metaphor and allusion, and
striking the fancy as he went along, (as men of wit and fancy do) with the
entertainment and pleasantry of his pictures and images.
    The other, without wit or antithesis, or point, or turn, this way or that;
but leaving the images on one side, and the pictures on the other, going strait
forwards as nature could lead him, to the heart. O Trim! would to heaven thou
had'st a better historian! - would! - thy historian had a better pair of
breeches! -- O ye criticks! will nothing melt you?
 

                                   Chap. VII.

- My young master in London is dead! said Obadiah. --
    - A green satin night-gown of my mother's, which had been twice scoured,
was the first idea which Obadiah's exclamation brought into Susannah's head. -
Well might Locke write a chapter upon the imperfections of words. - Then, quoth
Susannah, we must all go into mourning. - But note a second time: the word
mourning, notwithstanding Susannah 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 satin night-gown hung there still.
    - O! 'twill be the death of my poor mistress, cried Susannah. - My mother's
whole wardrobe followed. - What a procession! her red damask, - her
orange-tawny, - 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. - »No, - she will never look up again,« said Susannah.
    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 Obadiah, - he is certainly dead! - So am not I, said the foolish scullion.
    -- Here is sad news, Trim! cried Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim step'd
into the kitchen, - master Bobby is dead and buried, - the funeral was an
interpolation of Susannah's, - we shall have all to go into mourning, said
Susannah.
    I hope not, said Trim. - You hope not! cried Susannah earnestly. - The
mourning ran not in Trim's head, whatever it did in Susannah's. - I hope - said
Trim, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not true. I heard the letter
read with my own ears, answered Obadiah; and we shall have a terrible piece of
work of it in stubbing the ox-moor. - Oh! he's dead, said Susannah. - As sure,
said the scullion, as I am alive.
    I lament for him from my heart and my soul, said Trim, fetching a sigh. -
Poor creature! - poor boy! poor gentleman!
    - He was alive last Whitsontide, said the coachman. - Whitsontide! alas!
cried Trim, extending his right arm, and falling instantly into the same
attitude in which he read the sermon, - what is Whitsontide, Jonathan, (for that
was the coachman's name) or Shrovetide, 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! Susannah burst into a flood of tears. - We are not stocks
and stones. - Jonathan, Obadiah, 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.
    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.
    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 junketting 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
Barbati, 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.
    - I've gone a little about - no matter, 'tis for health - let us only carry
it back in our mind to the mortality of Trim's 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 Trim had
not trusted more to his hat than his head - he had made nothing at all of it.
    -- »Are we not here now,« - continued the corporal, »and are we not« -
(dropping his hat plumb 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 kneaded into the crown of it. -- Nothing could have expressed the
sentiment of mortality, of which it was the type and forerunner, like it, - his
hand seemed to vanish from under it, - it fell dead, - the corporal's eye fix'd
upon it, as upon a corps, - and Susannah burst into a flood of tears.
    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, 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 nicompoop - it had fail'd,
and the effect upon the heart had been lost.
    Ye who govern this mighty world and its mighty concerns with the engines of
eloquence, - who heat it, and cool it, and melt it, and mollify it, --and then
harden it again to your purpose --
    Ye who wind and turn the passions with this great windlass, - and, having
done it, lead the owners of them, whither ye think meet -
    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 Trim's hat.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

Stay -- I have a small account to settle with the reader, before Trim can go on
with his harangue. - It shall be done in two minutes.
    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 chamber-maids
and button-holes, 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 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
chamber-maids, green-gowns, and old hats.
    Trim took his off the ground, - put it upon his head, - and then went on
with his oration upon death, in manner and form following.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

- To us, Jonathan, 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
William the Third, whom I had the honour to serve both in Ireland and Flanders)
- I own it, that from Whitsontide to within three weeks of Christmas, - 'tis not
long - 'tis like nothing; - but to those, Jonathan, who know what death is, and
what havoc and destruction he can make, before a man can well wheel about -
'tis like a whole age. - O Jonathan! 'it would 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,
Susy, added the corporal, turning to Susannah, whose eyes were swiming in water,
- before that time comes round again, - many a bright eye will be dim. -
Susannah placed it to the right side of the page - she wept - but she court'sied
too. - Are we not, continued Trim, looking still at Susannah - 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 Susannah's 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
fair. --
    - What is the finest face that ever man looked at! - I could hear Trim talk
so for ever, cried Susannah, - what is it! (Susannah laid her hand upon Trim's
shoulder) - but corruption? -- Susannah took it off.
    - 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 pumkin for his head - or a pippin
for his heart, - and whenever he is dissected 'twill be found so.
 

                                    Chap. X.

Whether Susannah, 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 reflections --
    Or whether the corporal began to be suspicious, he had got into the doctor's
quarters, and was talking more like the chaplain than himself --
    Or whether - - - - - - - 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 any body determine -- 'tis certain, at least, the corporal went on thus
with his harangue.
    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 Joe Gibbins, 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! Jack's down! well, - 'tis worth a regiment of horse to him. - No -
'tis Dick. Then Jack's 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, Obadiah, at all in the
field. - But he's very frightful in a house, quoth Obadiah. -- I never mind it
myself, said Jonathan, upon a coach-box. - It must, in my opinion, be most
natural in bed, replied Susannah. - 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
Trim - but that is nature.
    -- Nature is nature, said Jonathan. - And that is the reason, cried
Susannah, 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 Trim. --
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 him
sigh in his bed for a whole month together, as he did for lieutenant Le Fever.
An' please your honour, do not sigh so piteously, I would say to him as I laid
besides him. I cannot help it, Trim, my master would say, -- 'tis so melancholy
an accident - I cannot get it off my heart - Your honour fears not death
yourself. - I hope, Trim, I fear nothing, he would say, but the doing a wrong
thing. -- Well, he would add, whatever betides, I will take care of Le Fever's
boy. - And with that, like a quieting draught, his honour would fall asleep.
    I like to hear Trim's stories about the captain, said Susannah. - He is a
kindly-hearted gentleman, said Obadiah, as ever lived. - Aye, - and as brave a
one too, said the corporal, as ever stepped 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 Jonathan,
drive such a gentleman for seven pounds a year - than some for eight. - Thank
thee, Jonathan! for thy twenty shillings, - as much, Jonathan, 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 Tom 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. -- Trim 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 this story of the poor
lieutenant, said Susannah. -- With all my heart, answered the corporal.
    Susannah, the cook, Jonathan, Obadiah, and corporal Trim, formed a circle
about the fire; and as soon as the scullion had shut the kitchen door, - the
corporal begun.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

I am a Turk 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 Nile, 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 great
piece fallen off here before, - and what must I do with this foot? -- I shall
never reach England with it.
    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 choke 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.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

But to return to my mother.
    My uncle Toby's opinion, Madam, »that there could be no harm in Cornelius
Gallus, the Roman 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.
    -- Pray, Madam, in what street does the lady live, who would not have done
the same?
    From the strange mode of Cornelius's death, my father had made a transition
to that of Socrates, and was giving my uncle Toby an abstract of his pleading
before his judges; -- 'twas irresistible: -- not the oration of Socrates, - but
my father's temptation to it. -- He had wrote the19Life of Socrates himself the
year before he left off trade, which, I fear, was the means of 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 Socrates's oration, which closed with a shorter word than
transmigration, or annihilation, - or a worse thought in the middle of it than
to be - or not to be, - the entering upon a new and untried state of things, -
or, upon a long, a profound and peaceful sleep, without dreams, without
disturbance; -- That we and our children were born to die, - but neither of us
born to be slaves. -- No - there I mistake; that was part of Eleazer's oration,
as recorded by Josephus (de Bell. Judaic.) -- Eleazer owns he had it from the
philosophers of India; in all likelihood Alexander the Great, in his irruption
into India, after he had over-run Persia, 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 Babylon) at least by some of his maroders,
into Greece, - from Greece it got to Rome, - from Rome to France, - and from
France to England: -- So things come round. --
    By land carriage I can conceive no other way. --
    By water the sentiment might easily have come down the Ganges into the Sinus
Gangeticus, or Bay of Bengal, and so into the Indian Sea; and following the
course of trade, (the way from India by the Cape of Good Hope being then
unknown) might be carried with other drugs and spices up the Red Sea to Joddah,
the port of Mekka, or else to Tor or Sues, towns at the bottom of the gulf; and
from thence by karrawans to Coptos, but three days journey distant, so down the
Nile directly to Alexandria, where the SENTIMENT would be landed at the very
foot of the great staircase of the Alexandrian library, -- and from that
store-house it would be fetched. -- Bless me! what a trade was driven by the
learned in those days!
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

Now my father had a way, a little like that of Job's (in case there ever was
such a man -- if not, there's an end of the matter. --
    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, etc. -- to vote, therefore, that he never lived at all,
is a little cruel, - 'tis not doing as they would be done by - happen that as it
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 Socrates 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 Socrates's oration, which my father was giving my uncle Toby,
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
Socrates. -
    -- Then, cried my mother, opening the door, -- you have one more, Mr.
Shandy, than I know of.
    By heaven! I have one less, - said my father, getting up and walking out of
the room.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

- They are Socrates's children, said my uncle Toby. He has been dead a hundred
years ago, replied my mother.
    My uncle Toby was no chronologer - so not caring to advance a 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 ecclaircissment himself.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

Had 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.
    Ptr..r..r..ing - twing - twang - prut - trut -- 'tis a cursed bad fiddle. -
Do you know whether my fiddle's in tune or no? - trut..prut.. - They should be
fifths. -- '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. - S'death! not the
gentleman with the sword on. - Sir, I had rather play a Caprichio to Calliope
herself, than draw my bow across my fiddle before that very man; and yet, I'll
stake my Cremona to a Jew's 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 is no worse, - and was Apollo to take his fiddle after me, he can make
him no better.
    Diddle diddle, diddle diddle, diddle diddle - hum - dum - drum.
    - Your worships and your reverences love musick - and God has made you all
with good ears - and some of you play delightfully yourselves -- trut-prut, -
prut-trut.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

The first thing which entered my father's head, after affairs were a little
settled in the family, and Susannah had got possession of my mother's green
satin night-gown, - was to sit down coolly, after the example of Xenophon, and
write a TRISTRA-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 INSTITUTE for the government of my childhood and
adolescence. I was my father's last stake - he had lost my brother Bobby
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 Toby had done to his
doctrine of projectils. - The difference between them was, that my uncle Toby
drew his whole knowledge of projectils from Nicholas Tartaglia - My father spun
his, every thread of it, out of his own brain, - or reeled and crosstwisted what
all other spinners and spinsters had spun before him, that 'twas pretty near the
same torture to him.
    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.«
    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 John de la Casse, the lord archbishop of Benevento, in compassing his
Galatea; in which his Grace of Benevento 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
Rider's Almanack. - How the holy man managed the affair, unless he spent the
greatest part of his time in combing his whiskers, or playing at primero 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.
    I own had John de la Casse, the archbishop of Benevento, for whose memory
(notwithstanding his Galatea) 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 Galatea might have jogged on together to the age of Methusalah for
me, - the phænomenon had not been worth a parenthesis. -
    But the reverse of this was the truth: John de la Casse was a genius of fine
parts and fertile fancy; and yet with all these great advantages of nature,
which should have pricked him forwards with his Galatea, he lay under an
impuissance at the same time of advancing above a line and an 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, - viz. then whenever a
Christian was writing a book (not for his private amusement, but) where his
intent and purpose was bonâ fide, 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 levelled 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 composition, as a state of warfare; 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 WIT - as his RESISTANCE.
    My father was hugely pleased with this theory of John de la Casse,
archbishop of Benevento; and (had it not cramped him a little in his creed) I
believe would have given ten of the best acres in the Shandy 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
John de la Casse's parabolical representation, - as was to be found in any one
poetic fiction, or mystick record of antiquity. - Prejudice of education, he
would say, is the devil, - and the multitudes of them which we suck in with our
mother's milk - are the devil and all. -- We are haunted with them, brother
Toby, 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.
    This is the best account I am determined to give of the slow progress my
father made in his Tristra-pædia; 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 consequence. --
    -- 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.
    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 under ground.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

- 'Twas 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 Slop 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 (August the 10th, 1761) paying part of the
price of this man's reputation. -- O 'it would 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 Susannah, 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 **** *** ** ***
******?
    I was five years old. -- Susannah did not consider that nothing was well
hung in our family, - so slap came the sash down like lightening upon us; -
Nothing is left, - cried Susannah, - nothing is left - for me, but to run my
country. --
    My uncle Toby's house was a much kinder sanctuary; and so Susannah fled to
it.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

When Susannah told the corporal the misadventure of the sash, with all the
circumstances which attended the murder of me, - (as she called it) - the blood
forsook his cheeks; - all accessaries in murder, being principals, - Trim's
conscience told him he was as much to blame as Susannah, - and if the doctrine
had been true, my uncle Toby had as much of the blood-shed to answer for to
heaven, as either of 'em; - so that neither reason or instinct, separate or
together, could possibly have guided Susannah's 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 tryal or to torture?
'Tis my own affair: I'll explain it myself.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

'Tis a pity, Trim, said my uncle Toby, 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; -- 'it would secure the
lines all along there, and make the attack on the side quite complete: -- get me
a couple cast, Trim.
    Your honour shall have them, replied Trim, before to-morrow morning.
    It was the joy of Trim's heart, - nor was his fertile head ever at a loss
for expedients in doing it, to supply my uncle Toby 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
Toby's spouts - hacking and chiseling up the sides of his leaden gutters, -
melting down his pewter shaving basin, - and going at last, like Lewis the
fourteenth, on to the top of the church, for spare ends, etc. -- he had that
very campaign brought no less than eight new battering cannons, besides three
demi-culverins into the field; my uncle Toby's 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 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.
    He had dismantled every sash window in my uncle Toby's house long before, in
the very same way, - though not always in the same order; for sometimes the
pullies had 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.
    -- A great MORAL might be picked handsomly out of this, but I have not time
- 'tis enough to say, wherever the demolition began, 'twas equally fatal to the
sash window.
 

                                   Chap. XX.

The 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 Susannah 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, - at
least in Susannah's hands; -- How would your honours have behaved? -- He
determined at once, not to take shelter behind Susannah, - but to give it; and
with this resolution upon his mind, he marched upright into the parlour, to lay
the whole manoeuvre before my uncle Toby.
    My uncle Toby had just then been giving Yorick an account of the Battle of
Steenkirk, and of the strange conduct of count Solmes 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.
    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 days. --
    Trim, by the help of his forefinger, laid flat upon the table, and the edge
of his hand striking a-cross 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

- I would be picquetted to death, cried the corporal, as he concluded Susannah's
story, before I would suffer the woman to come to any harm, - 'twas my fault,
an' please your honour, - not her's.
    Corporal Trim, replied my uncle Toby, putting on his hat which lay upon the
table, -- if any thing 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.
    Had count Solmes, Trim, done the same at the battle of Steenkirk, said
Yorick, drolling a little upon the corporal, who had been run over by a dragoon
in the retreat, -- he had saved thee; -- Saved! cried Trim, interrupting Yorick,
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 Cutt's -
continued the corporal, clapping the forefinger of his right hand upon the thumb
of his left, and counting round his hand, -- there was Cutt's, -- Mackay's --
Angus's, -- Graham's -- and Leven's, all cut to pieces; -- and so had the
English 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 Trim. - Trim is right, said my uncle Toby, nodding to
Yorick, -- he's perfectly right. What signified his marching the horse,
continued the corporal, where the ground was so strait, and the French 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 Solmes 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 Landen. - Poor Trim got
his wound there, quoth my uncle Toby. -- 'Twas owing, an' please your honour,
entirely to count Solmes, -- had we drub'd them soundly at Steenkirk, they would
not have fought us at Landen. -- Possibly not, -- Trim, said my uncle Toby; --
though if they have the advantage of a wood, or you give them a moment's time to
intrench themselves, they are a nation which will pop and pop for ever at you.
-- There is no way but to march cooly up to them, -- receive their fire, and
fall in upon them, pell-mell -- Ding dong, added Trim. -- Horse and foot, said
my uncle Toby. -- Helter skelter, said Trim. -- Right and left, cried my uncle
Toby. -- Blood an' ounds, shouted the corporal; -- the battle raged, -- Yorick
drew his chair a little to one side for safety, and after a moment's pause, my
uncle Toby sinking his voice a note, - resumed the discourse as follows.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

King William, said my uncle Toby, addressing himself to Yorick, was so terribly
provoked at count Solmes for disobeying his orders, that he would not suffer him
to come into his presence for many months after. -- I fear, answered Yorick, the
squire will be as much provoked at the corporal, as the King at the count. --
But 'it would be singularly hard in this case, continued he, if corporal Trim, who
has behaved so diametrically opposite to count Solmes, 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 Toby, 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. -- Trim directed a slight, -- but
a grateful bow towards his master, -- and so the chapter ends.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

- Then, Yorick, replied my uncle Toby, you and I will lead the way abreast, --
and do you, corporal, follow a few paces behind us. -- And Susannah, an' please
your honour, said Trim, 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 Toby's house to Shandy-hall.
    -- I wish, said Trim, 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 enough, replied Yorick. --
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

As 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:
    This is the true reason, that my dear Jenny 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?
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

'Tis a point settled, - and I mention it for the comfort of Confucius,20 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.
    This being premised, I take the benefit of the act of going backwards
myself.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

Fifty thousand pannier loads of devils - (not of the Archbishop of Benevento's,
- I mean of Rabelais's 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
befell me: it summoned up my mother instantly into the nursery, - so that
Susannah had but just time to make her escape down the back stairs, as my mother
came up the fore.
    Now, though I was old enough to have told the story myself, - and young
enough, I hope, to have done it without malignity; yet Susannah, in passing by
the kitchen, for fear of accidents, had left it in short-hand with the cook -
the cook had told it with a commentary to Jonathan, and Jonathan to Obadiah; so
that by the time my father had rung the bell half a dozen times, to know what
was the matter above, - was Obadiah 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.
    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
chapter in the Tristrapædia, which to me is the most original and entertaining
one in the whole book; - and that is the chapter upon sash-windows, with a
bitter Philippick at the end of it, upon the forgetfulness of chambermaids. - I
have but two reasons for thinking otherwise.
    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 the 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 chamberpots, at the time supposed, - and it is
this.
    -- That, in order to render the Tristrapædia complete, - I wrote the chapter
myself.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

My 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 Obadiah 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.
    -- If it be but right done, - said my father, turning to the Section - de
sede vel subjecto circumcisionis, -- for he had brought up Spencer de Legibus
Hebræorum Ritualibus - and Maimonides, in order to confront and examine us
altogether. -
    -- 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. Slop.
    My mother went down, and my father went on, reading the section as follows.
    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * -- Very well, - said my
father, * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * - nay, if it has that
convenience -- and so without stopping a moment to settle it first in his mind,
whether the Jews had it from the Egyptians, or the Egyptians from the Jews, - 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 EGYPTIANS, - the SYRIANS, - the PHOENICIANS, - the
ARABIANS, - the CAPADOCIANS, -- if the COLCHI, and TROGLODYTES did it -- if
SOLON and PYTHAGORAS submitted, - what is TRISTRAM? -- Who am I, that I should
fret or fume one moment about the matter?
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

Dear Yorick, said my father smiling, (for Yorick had broke his rank with my
uncle Toby in coming through the narrow entry, and so had stepped first into the
parlour) - this Tristram of ours, I find, comes very hardly by all his religious
rites. - Never was the son of Jew, Christian, Turk, or Infidel initiated into
them in so oblique and slovenly a manner. - But he is no worse, I trust, said
Yorick. - There has been certainly, continued my father, the duce 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 Yorick. - Astrologers, quoth my
father, know better than us both: - the trine and sextil aspects have jumped
awry, - or the opposite of the ascendents have not hit it, as they should, - or
the lords of the genitures (as they call them) have been at bo-peep, - or
something has been wrong above, or below with us.
    'Tis possible, answered Yorick. -- But is the child, cried my uncle Toby,
the worse? - The Troglodytes say not, replied my father. - And your theologists,
Yorick, tell us - Theologically? said Yorick, - or speaking after the manner of
21 apothecaries? -22 statesmen? - or23 washerwomen?
    -- I'm not sure, replied my father, - but they tell us, brother Toby, he's
the better for it. -- Provided, said Yorick, you travel him into Egypt. -- Of
that, answered my father, he will have the advantage, when he sees the Pyramids.
--
    Now every word of this, quoth my uncle Toby, is Arabick to me. -- I wish,
said Yorick, 'twas so, to half the world.
    -ILUS,24 continued my father, circumcised his whole army one morning. - Not
without a court martial? cried my uncle Toby. -- Though the learned, continued
he, taking no notice of my uncle Toby's remark, but turning to Yorick, - are
greatly divided still who Ilus was; - some say Saturn; - some the supream Being;
- others, no more than a brigadier general under Pharoah-neco. -- Let him be who
he will, said my uncle Toby, I know not by what article of war he could justify
it.
    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 shown 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 Yorick, 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. Yorick, quoth my uncle Toby, - do tell me what a polemic
divine is. -- The best description, captain Shandy, I have ever read is of a
couple of 'em, replied Yorick, in the account of the battle fought single hands
betwixt Gymnast and captain Tripet; which I have in my pocket. -- I beg I may
hear it, quoth my uncle Toby earnestly. - You shall, said Yorick. 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, brother,
you'll give him leave to come in. - With all my soul, said my father. -- Trim
came in, erect and happy as an emperour; and having shut the door, Yorick took a
book from his right-hand coat pocket, and read, or pretended to read, as
follows.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

- »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 Gymnast 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
Tripet, I will not do that at this time, - and not without cause. Well, said
Gymnast, 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 fore-side back, without touching any thing, he brought himself
betwixt the horse's two ears, and then giving himself a jerking swing, he seated
himself upon the crupper --«
    (This can't be fighting, said my uncle Toby. -- The corporal shook his head
at it. -- Have patience, said Yorick.)
    »Then (Tripet) pass'd his right leg over his saddle, and placed himself en
croup. - 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 straight found himself betwixt the bow of the 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 Trim, losing all patience, - one home thrust
of a bayonet is worth it all. -- I think so too, replied Yorick. --
    - I am of a contrary opinion, quoth my father.
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

- No, - I think I have advanced nothing, replied my father, making answer to a
question which Yorick had taken the liberty to put to him, - I have advanced
nothing in the Tristrapædia, but what is as clear as any one proposition in
Euclid. - Reach me, Trim, 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, Yorick,
and to my brother Toby, 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 Toby and Yorick 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. Trim, quoth my
father, has paid the full price for staying out the entertainment. -- He did not
seem to relish the play, replied Yorick.-- 'Twas a Tom-fool-battle, an' please
your reverence, of captain Tripet's and that other officer, making so many
summersets, as they advanced; -- the French come on capering now and then in
that way, - but not quite so much.
    My uncle Toby 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, -- Yorick drew his chair closer to the
table, - Trim snuff'd the candle, - my father stir'd up the fire, - took up the
book, - cough'd twice, and begun.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

The 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 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 Yorick.
    The original of society, continued my father, I'm satisfied is, what
Politician tells us, i.e. merely conjugal; and nothing more than the getting
together of one man and one woman; - to which, (according to Hesiod) 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 Yorick, quoting the passage (oikon men
protidta, gynaika te, Boyn tA arothra) - - 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 Toby, 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 Toby's reason. - For
when the ground was tilled, said my uncle Toby, and made worth enclosing, then
they began to secure it by walls and ditches, which was the origin of
fortification. -- True, true; dear Toby, cried my father, striking out the bull,
and putting the ox in his place.
    My father gave Trim a nod, to snuff the candle, and resumed his discourse.
    -- I enter upon this speculation, said my father carelessly, and half
shutting the book, as he went on, - merely to show the foundation of the natural
relation between a father and his child; the right and jurisdiction over whom he
acquires these several ways -
    1st, by marriage.
    2d, by adoption.
    3d, by legitimation.
    And 4th, by procreation; all which I consider in their order.
    I lay a slight stress upon one of them; replied Yorick -- 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 are wrong, - said my father
argutely, and for this plain reason * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *. - 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 Yorick, 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, - she is not the principal agent, Yorick. - In what? quoth my uncle
Toby, stopping his pipe. - Though by all means, added my father (not attending
to my uncle Toby) »The son ought to pay her respect,« as you may read, Yorick,
at large in the first book of the Institutes of Justinian, at the eleventh title
and the tenth section. - I can read it as well, replied Yorick, in the
Catechism.
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

Trim can repeat every word of it by heart, quoth my uncle Toby. - Pugh! said my
father, not caring to be interrupted with Trim's saying his Catechism. He can
upon my honour, replied my uncle Toby. - Ask him, Mr. Yorick, any question you
please. --
    - The fifth Commandment, Trim - said Yorick, 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 Toby, raising his voice, and giving it rapidly like
the word of command; -- The fifth -- cried my uncle Toby. - I must begin with
the first, an' please your honour, said the corporal. --
    - Yorick 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 field. -
    »Join your right hand to your firelock,« cried the corporal, giving the word
of command, and performing the motion. -
    »Poise your firelock,« cried the corporal, doing the duty still of both
adjutant and private man. -
    »Rest your firelock;« - one motion, an' please your reverence, you see leads
into another. - If his honour will begin but with the first -
    THE FIRST - cried my uncle Toby, setting his hand upon his side - * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
    THE SECOND - cried my uncle Toby, waving his tobacco-pipe, as he would have
done his sword at the head of a regiment. - The corporal went through his manual
with exactness; and having honoured his father and mother, made a low bow, and
fell back to the side of the room.
    Every thing 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.
    - Here is the scaffold work of INSTRUCTION, its true point of folly, without
the BUILDING behind it. -
    - Here is the glass for pedagogues, preceptors, tutors, governours,
gerund-grinders and bear-leaders to view themselves in, in their true
dimensions. -
    Oh! there is a husk and shell, Yorick, which grows up with learning, which
their unskilfulness knows not how to fling away!
    - SCIENCES MAY BE LEARNED BY ROTE, BUT WISDOM NOT.
    Yorick thought my father inspired. - I will enter into obligations this
moment, said my father, to lay out all my aunt Dinah's 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,
Trim, quoth my father, turning round to him, - What do'st thou mean, by
»honouring thy father and mother?«
    Allowing them, an' please your honour, three halfpence a day out of my pay,
when they grew old. - And didst thou do that, Trim? said Yorick. - He did
indeed, replied my uncle Toby. - Then, Trim, said Yorick, springing out of his
chair, and taking the corporal by the hand, thou art the best commentator upon
that part of the Decalogue; and I honour thee more for it, corporal Trim, than
if thou hadst had a hand in the Talmud itself.
 

                                 Chap. XXXIII.

O blessed 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 it's 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 every thing with thee.
    I have concentrated all that can be said upon this important head, said my
father, into a very little room, therefore we'll read the chapter quite thro'.
    My father read as follows.
    »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 Yorick. Sufficiently, replied my father.
    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 violence. --
    I have demonstrated the truth of that point, quoth my father, nodding to
Yorick, most sufficiently in the preceding chapter.
    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 radical heat and the radical
moisture, - 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, pro or con, directly or indirectly,
upon the contention betwixt these two powers in any part of the animal economy
--
    »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 MOONITES done?«
 

                                  Chap. XXXIV.

With two strokes, the one at Hippocrates, the other at Lord Verulam, did my
father atchieve it.
    The stroke at the prince of physicians, with which he began, was no more
than a short insult upon his sorrowful complaint of the Ars longa, - and Vita
brevis. -- 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.
    -- O my lord Verulam! cried my father, turning from Hippocrates, 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
Verulam? What shall I say to thy internal spirit, - thy opium, - thy salt-petre,
-- thy greasy unctions, - thy daily purges, - thy nightly glisters, and
succedaneums?
    -- 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXXV.

»The two great causes, which conspire with each other to shorten life, says lord
Verulam, are first --
    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.«
    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
up. --
    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
glisters was requisite to carry off redundant humours, - and render the system
complete.
    What my father had to say to my lord of Verulam's opiates, his salt-petre,
and greasy unctions and glisters, 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 the chapter at your leisure, (if you choose it) as soon as ever
the Tristrapædia is published. --
    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
own. --
 

                                  Chap. XXXVI.

The 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 school-men confounded the task, merely (as Van
Helmont, the famous chymist, has proved) by all along mistaking the radical
moisture for the tallow and fat of animal bodies.
    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 Aristotle, »Quod omne animal post
coitum est triste.«
    Now it is certain, that the radical heat lives in the radical moisture, but
whether vice versâ, 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 head. --
 

                                 Chap. XXXVII.

The description of the siege of Jerico itself, could not have engaged the
attention of my uncle Toby 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 Toby 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 - aside. -- * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *. It was at the siege of Limerick, an' please
your honour, replied the corporal, making a bow.
    The poor fellow and I, quoth my uncle Toby, addressing himself to my father,
were scarce able to crawl out of our tents, at the time the siege of Limerick
was raised, upon the very account you mention. -- Now what can have got into
that precious noddle of thine, my dear brother Toby? cried my father, mentally.
-- By Heaven! continued he, communing still with himself, it would puzzle an
OEdipus to bring it in point. --
    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, Trim, added my
uncle Toby, 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
Toby, 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.
    All this was as much Arabick to my father, as the rites of the Colchi and
Troglodites had been before to my uncle Toby; my father could not determine
whether he was to frown or smile. --
    My uncle Toby, turning to Yorick, resumed the case at Limerick, more
intelligibly than he had begun it, - and so settled the point for my father at
once.
 

                                 Chap. XXXVIII.

It was undoubtedly, said my uncle Toby, 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 could. --
    -- It was heaven's mercy to us, continued my uncle Toby, 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 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 Toby, you might have heard the contention within our bodies, brother
Shandy, twenty toises. - If there was no firing, said Yorick.
    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 -- Yorick 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, Trim, said
Yorick, without staying for my father's leave, - tell us honestly - what is thy
opinion concerning this self-same radical heat and radical moisture?
    With humble submission to his honour's better judgment, quoth the corporal,
making a bow to my uncle Toby - Speak thy opinion freely, corporal, said my
uncle Toby. - The poor fellow is my servant, - not my slave, - added my uncle
Toby, turning to my father. --
    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.
 

                                  Chap. XXXIX.

Just as the corporal was humming, to begin - in waddled Dr. Slop. - 'Tis not
two-pence matter - the corporal shall go on in the next chapter, let who will
come in. --
    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? --
    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. Slop had
laid down, to treat the accident by, no way allowed of such a mode of enquiry. -
He sat down.
    Pray, Sir, quoth my uncle Toby, in a manner which could not go unanswered, -
in what condition is the boy? - 'Twill end in a phimosis, replied Dr. Slop.
    I am no wiser than I was, quoth my uncle Toby, - 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. Slop, and then delivered his
opinion concerning radical heat and radical moisture, in the following words.
 

                                   Chap. XL.

The city of Limerick, the siege of which was begun under his majesty king
William 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 Toby, with the Shannon, and is, by its situation, one
of the strongest fortified places in Ireland. --
    I think this is a new fashion, quoth Dr. Slop, of beginning a medical
lecture. - 'Tis all true, answered Trim. - Then I wish the faculty would follow
the cut of it, said Yorick. - '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 stove. --
    And what conclusion dost thou draw, Corporal Trim, cried my father, from all
these premises?
    I infer, an' please your worship, replied Trim, that the radical moisture is
nothing in the world but ditch-water - and that the radical heat, of those who
can go to the expense of it, is burnt brandy - the radical heat and moisture of
a private man, an' please your honours, 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.
    I am at a loss, Captain Shandy, quoth Doctor Slop, to determine in which
branch of learning your servant shines most, whether in physiology, or divinity.
- Slop had not forgot Trim's comment upon the sermon. -
    It is but an hour ago, replied Yorick, since the corporal was examined in
the latter, and pass'd muster with great honour. --
    The radical heat and moisture, quoth Doctor Slop, 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
consubstantials, impriments, and occludents. -- Now this poor fellow, continued
Dr. Slop, pointing to the corporal, has had the misfortune to have heard some
superficial emperic discourse upon this nice point. -- That he has, - said my
father. -- Very likely, said my uncle. - I'm sure of it - quoth Yorick. -
 

                                   Chap. XLI.

Doctor Slop 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 Tristra-pædia. --
Come! cheer up, my lads; I'll show you land -- for when we have tugged through
that chapter, the book shall not be opened again this twelvemonth. - Huzza! -
 

                                  Chap. XLII.

- Five years with a bib under his chin;
    Four years in travelling from Christ-cross-row to Malachi;
    A year and a half in learning to write his own name;
    Seven long years and more tepto-ing it, at Greek and Latin;
    Four years at his probations and his negations - 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 Julius Scaliger
within an ace of never getting his tools sharpened at all? -- Forty-four years
old was he before he could manage his Greek; - and Peter Damianus, lord bishop
of Ostia, as all the world knows, could not so much as read, when he was of
man's estate. - And Baldus himself, as eminent as he turned out after, entered
upon the law so late in life, that every body imagined he intended to be an
advocate in the other world: no wonder, when Eudamidas, the son of Archidamas,
heard Xenocrates at seventy-five disputing about wisdom, that he asked gravely,
- If the old man be yet disputing and enquiring concerning wisdom, - what time
will he have to make use of it?
    Yorick 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 attoned for them: -
be wary, Sir, when you imitate him.
    I am convinced, Yorick, 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,
Yorick! has not a parent to point it out.
    -- The whole entirely depends, added my father, in a low voice, upon the
auxiliary verbs, Mr. Yorick.
    Had Yorick trod upon Virgil's 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 befell the republick 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 Raymond Lullius, and the
elder Pelegrini, 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, pro and con, 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 Yorick,
interrupting my father, to be made to comprehend this matter. You shall, said my
father.
    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.
    Now the use of the Auxiliaries is, at once to set the soul a going 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 tracks of enquiry,
and make every idea engender millions.
    You excite my curiosity greatly, said Yorick.
    For my own part, quoth my uncle Toby, I have given it up. -- The Danes, an'
please your honour, quoth the corporal, who were on the left at the siege of
Limerick, were all auxiliaries. -- And very good ones, said my uncle Toby. - But
the auxiliaries, Trim, my brother is talking about, - I conceive to be different
things. --
    -- You do? said my father, rising up.
 

                                  Chap. XLIII.

My father took a single turn across the room, then sat down and finished the
chapter.
    The verbs auxiliary we are concerned in here, continued my father, are, am;
was; have; had; do; did; make; made; suffer; shall; should; will; would; can;
could; owe; ought; used; or is wont. - And these varied with tenses, present,
past, future, and conjugated with the verb see, - or with these questions added
to them; - Is it? Was it? Will it be? Would it be? May it be? Might it be? And
these again put negatively, Is it not? Was it not? Ought it not? - Or
affirmatively, - It is; It was; It ought to be. Or chronologically, - Has it
been always? Lately? How long ago? - Or hypothetically, - If it was; If it was
not? What would follow? -- If the French should beat the English? If the Sun go
out of the Zodiac?
    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. -- Did'st thou ever see a white bear? cried my father,
turning his head round to Trim, who stood at the back of his chair: - No, an'
please your honour, replied the corporal. -- But thou could'st discourse about
one, Trim, said my father, in case of need? -- How is it possible, brother,
quoth my uncle Toby, if the corporal never saw one? -- 'Tis the fact I want;
replied my father, - and the possibility of it, is as follows.
    A WHITE BEAR! Very well. Have I ever seen one? Might I ever have seen one?
Am I ever to see one? Ought I ever to have seen one? Or can I ever see one?
    Would I had seen a white bear? (for how can I imagine it?)
    If I should see a white bear, what should I say? If I should never see a
white bear, what then?
    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?
    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?
    - Is the white bear worth seeing? -
    - Is there no sin in it? -
    Is it better than a BLACK ONE?
 
                            End of the Fifth Volume.
 

                                   Volume VI.

                                    Chap. I.

- We'll not stop two moments, my dear Sir, - only, as we have got thro' these
five volumes, (do. Sir, sit down upon a set -- they are better than nothing) let
us just look back upon the country we have pass'd through. --
    -- 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.
    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!
    -- Prithee, shepherd! who keeps all those Jack Asses?* * *
    -- 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 as Jack Asse, I solemnly declare, I would bray in G-sol-re-ut
from morning, even unto night.
 

                                   Chap. II.

When 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 Trim's hand, with a nod to lay it upon the 'scrutoire where
he found it. -- Tristram, said he, shall be made to conjugate every word in the
dictionary, backwards and forwards the same way; -- every word, Yorick, by this
means, you see, is converted into a thesis or an hypothesis; - every thesis and
hypothesis have an off-spring of propositions; - and each proposition has its
own consequences 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
Shandi, cried my uncle Toby, to burst it into a thousand splinters. --
    I presume, said Yorick, 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 Vincent Quirino,
amongst the many other astonishing feats of his childhood, of which the Cardinal
Bembo has given the world so exact a story, - should be able to paste up in the
public schools at Rome, so early as in the eighth year of his age, no less than
four thousand, five hundred, and sixty 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 Alphonsus Tostatus, 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 Piereskius? - That's the very man, cried my
uncle Toby, I once told you of, brother Shandy, who walked a matter of five
hundred miles, reckoning from Paris to Schevling, and from Schevling back again,
merely to see Stevinus's flying chariot. -- He was a very great man! added my
uncle Toby; (meaning Stevinus) - He was so; brother Toby, said my father,
(meaning Piereskius) -- 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 Toby: - I should think not, said Yorick: - But what are these,
continued my father - (breaking out in a kind of enthusiasm) - which are these,
to those prodigies of childhood in Grotius, Scioppius, Heinsius, Politician,
Pascal, Joseph Scaliger, Ferdinand de Cordouè, and others - some of which left
off their substantial forms at nine years old, or sooner, and went on reasoning
without them; - others went through their classics at seven; - wrote tragedies
at eight; - Ferdinand de Cordouè was so wise at nine, - 'twas thought the Devil
was in him; -- and at Venice gave such proofs of his knowledge and goodness,
that the monks imagined he was Antichrist, 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 Servius and
Martianus Capella at twelve, - and at thirteen received their degrees in
philosophy, laws, and divinity: -- But you forget the great Lipsius, quoth
Yorick, who composed a work25 the day he was born; -- They should have wiped it
up, said my uncle Toby, and said no more about it.
 

                                   Chap. III.

When the cataplasm was ready, a scruple of decorum had unseasonably rose up in
Susannah's conscience, about holding the candle, whilst Slop tied it on; Slop
had not treated Susannah's distemper with anodines, - and so a quarrel had
ensued betwixt them.
    -- Oh! oh! -- said Slop, casting a glance of undue freedom in Susannah's
face, as she declined the office; -- then, I think I know you, madam -- You know
me, Sir! cried Susannah fastidiously, and with a toss of her head, levelled
evidently, not at his profession, but at the doctor himself, -- you know me!
cried Susannah again. -- Doctor Slop clapped his finger and his thumb instantly
upon his nostrils; -- Susannah's spleen was ready to burst at it; --'Tis false,
said Susannah. - Come, come, Mrs. Modesty, said Slop, 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
Susannah: - 'Tis better, said Slop, with a nod, than no shift at all, young
woman; -- I defy you, Sir, cried Susannah, pulling her shift sleeve below her
elbow.
    It was almost impossible for two persons to assist each other in a surgical
case with a more splenetic cordiality.
    Slop snatched up the cataplasm, -- Susannah snatched up the candle; -- A
little this way, said Slop; Susannah looking one way, and rowing another,
instantly set fire to Slop's wig, which being somewhat bushy and unctuous
withal, was burnt out before it was well kindled. -- You impudent whore! cried
Slop, - (for what is passion, but a wild beast) - you impudent whore, cried
Slop, getting upright, with the cataplasm in his hand; -- I never was the
destruction of any body's nose, said Susannah, - which is more than you can say:
-- Is it? cried Slop, throwing the cataplasm in her face; -- Yes, it is, cried
Susannah, returning the compliment with what was left in the pan. --
 

                                   Chap. IV.

Doctor Slop and Susannah 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.
 

                                    Chap. V.

You see 'tis high time, said my father, addressing himself equally to my uncle
Toby and Yorick, to take this young creature out of these women's hands, and put
him into those of a private governor. Marcus Antoninus provided fourteen
governors all at once to superintend his son Commodus's education, - and in six
weeks he cashiered five of them; - I know very well, continued my father, that
Commodus's mother was in love with a gladiator at the time of her conception,
which accounts for a great many of Commodus's cruelties when he became emperor;
- but still I am of opinion, that those five whom Antoninus dismissed did
Commodus's temper, in that short time, more hurt than the other nine were able
to rectify all their lives long.
    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, Yorick, if possible, polished at all points, fit for my child to
look into. -- This is very good sense, quoth my uncle Toby to himself.
    -- 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 well within, and
I am not at all surprised that Gregory of Nazianzum, upon observing the hasty
and untoward gestures of Julian, should foretel he would one day become an
apostate; -- or that St. Ambrose should turn his Amanuensis out of doors,
because of an indecent motion of his head, which went backwards and forwards
like a flail; -- or that Democritus should conceive Protagoras 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.
    It is for these reasons, continued my father, that the governor I make
choice of shall neither26 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 fingers. --
    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 nonsense. --
    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 Erasmus) 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
Toby to himself. --
    I will have him, continued my father, cheerful, 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 Yorick: -- And why not, cried my uncle Toby, free, and
generous, and bountiful, and brave? -- He shall, my dear Toby, replied my
father, getting up and shaking him by his hand. - Then, brother Shandy, answered
my uncle Toby, 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 Le Fever's
son to you; -- a tear of joy of the first water sparkled in my uncle Toby's eye,
- and another, the fellow to it, in the corporal's, as the proposition was made;
-- you will see why when you read Le Fever's 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.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

                             The Story of Le Fever.

It was some time in the summer of that year in which Dendermond 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 Toby and Trim 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 Europe - when my uncle Toby was
one evening getting his supper, with Trim 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 Toby 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 Toby
could have taken Dendermond itself, with less trouble than he was able to gain
this point over him; for many a time when my uncle Toby 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.
    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 any thing, till just now, that
he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast, -- I think, says he, taking
his hand from his forehead, it would comfort me. --
    -- 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.
    Thou art a good natured soul, I will answer for thee, cried my uncle Toby;
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.
    Though I am persuaded, said my uncle Toby, as the landlord shut the door, he
is a very compassionate fellow - Trim, - 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 Toby, - do Trim, - -and ask if he knows his name.
    -- 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 Toby. - 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 bedside these two days.
    My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before
him, as the landlord gave him the account; and Trim, without being ordered, took
away without saying one word, and in a few minutes after brought him his pipe
and tobacco.
    -- Stay in the room a little, said my uncle Toby. --
    Trim! -- said my uncle Toby, after he lighted his pipe, and smoak'd about a
dozen whiffs. -- Trim came in front of his master and made his bow; - my uncle
Toby smoak'd on, and said no more. -- Corporal! said my uncle Toby -- the
corporal made his bow. -- My uncle Toby proceeded no farther, but finished his
pipe.
    Trim! said my uncle Toby, 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. Nicholas; -- 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 Toby, but I am not
at rest in my mind, Trim, since the account the landlord has given me. -- I wish
I had not known so much of this affair, - added my uncle Toby, - 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 go to the house and
reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in
an hour. -- Thou shalt go, Trim, said my uncle Toby, 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.
    My uncle Toby 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 tennaile a straight line, as a crooked one, - he
might be said to have thought of nothing else but poor Le Fever and his boy the
whole time he smoked it.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

                        The Story of Le Fever continued.

It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe, that
corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following account.
    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 Toby -- He is: said the corporal -- And in what
regiment? said my uncle Toby -- I'll tell your honour, replied the corporal,
every thing straight forwards, as I learnt it. - Then, Trim, I'll fill another
pipe, said my uncle Toby, and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit
down at thy ease, Trim, 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 - Your honour is good: -- And having done that, he sat down, as he was
ordered, - and begun the story to my uncle Toby over again in pretty near the
same words.
    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 every thing which
was proper to be asked, - That's a right distinction. Trim, said my uncle Toby -
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 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.
    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 Toby, - he has been bred up from an infant in the army, and the name of a
soldier, Trim, sounded in his ears like the name of a friend; - I wish I had him
here.
    -- 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, Trim, said my uncle Toby,
blowing his nose, - but that thou art a good natured fellow.
    When I gave him the toast, continued the corporal, I thought it was proper
to tell him I was Captain Shandy's 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 Toby) -- 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. Yorick's curate was
smoking 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 Toby.
    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 bedside, and as I shut the door, I saw his son take up a cushion. -
    I thought, said the curate, that you gentlemen of the army, Mr. Trim, 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, Trim, said my uncle Toby. -- 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; - harrassed, perhaps, in his rear
to-day; - harrassing 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 how and when 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, Trim, said my uncle Toby, - 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,
Trim, accordingly. -- I hope we shall, said Trim. -- It is in the Scripture,
said my uncle Toby; and I will show it thee to-morrow: -- In the mean time we
may depend upon it, Trim, for our comfort, said my uncle Toby, 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, Trim, said my
uncle Toby, with thy story.
    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 at the same time. -- Let it remain there,
my dear, said the lieutenant.
    He did not offer to speak to me, till I had walked up close to his bed-side:
- If you are Captain Shandy's 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 Levens's - said the lieutenant. - I told him your honour was
- Then, said he, I served three campaigns with him in Flanders, 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 Le Fever, a lieutenant
in Angus's -- 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 Breda,
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, Billy,
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.
    I wish, said my uncle Toby, with a deep sigh, - I wish, Trim, I was asleep.
    Your honour, replied the corporal, is too much concerned; - shall I pour
your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe? -- Do, Trim, said my uncle Toby.
    I remember, said my uncle Toby, 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 Le Fever 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
Ireland, and were on their route to joint the regiment in Flanders. -- 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 Toby.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

                        The Story of Le Fever continued.

It was to my uncle Toby's 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 Toby was warmly engaged at that time in carrying on the siege of
Dendermond, 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
Dendermond, though he had already made a lodgement 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 Dendermond into a blockade, - he left Dendermond to
itself, - to be relieved or not by the French king, as the French king thought
good; and only considered how he himself should relieve the poor lieutenant and
his son.
    -- That kind BEING, who is a friend to the friendless, shall recompense thee
for this.
    Thou hast left this matter short, said my uncle Toby to the corporal, as he
was putting him to bed, -- and I will tell thee in what, Trim. -- In the first
place, when thou madest an offer of my services to Le Fever, - as sickness and
travelling are both expensive, and thou knows 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 knows,
Trim, he had been as welcome to it as myself. -- Your honour knows, said the
corporal, I had no orders; -- True, quoth my uncle Toby, - thou didst very
right, Trim, as a soldier, - but certainly very wrong as a man.
    In the second place, for which, indeed, thou hast the same excuse, continued
my uncle Toby, -- 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, Trim, and if we had him with us, - we could tend and look to
him: -- Thou art an excellent nurse thyself, Trim, - 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 legs. --
    -- In a fortnight or three weeks, added my uncle Toby, smiling, - he might
march. -- He will never march, an' please your honour, in this world, said the
corporal: -- He will march; said my uncle Toby, 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 Toby, 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 Toby; -- He'll drop at last, said the corporal, and
what will become of his boy? -- He shall not drop, said my uncle Toby, firmly.
-- A-well-o'day, - do what we can for him, said Trim, maintaining his point, -
the poor soul will die: -- He shall not die, by G-, cried my uncle Toby.
    - The ACCUSING SPIRIT which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath,
blush'd as he gave it in; - and the RECORDING ANGEL as he wrote it down, dropp'd
a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.
 

                                    Chap.IX.

- My uncle Toby 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.
 

                                    Chap. X.

                        The Story of Le Fever concluded.

The sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in the village but Le
Fever's 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 Toby, 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 had been concerting with the corporal the night
before for him. --
    -- You shall go home directly, Le Fever, said my uncle Toby, 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,
Le Fever.
    There was a frankness in my uncle Toby, - not the effect of familiarity, -
but the cause of it, - which let you at once into his soul, and showed 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 Toby 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 Le Fever, 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 Toby's face, - then cast a look upon his boy, -- and that ligament, fine
as it was, - was never broken. --
    Nature instantly ebb'd again, -- the film returned to its place, -- the
pulse fluttered -- stopp'd -- went on -- throb'd -- stopp'd again -- moved --
stopp'd -- shall I go on? -- No.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

I am so impatient to return to my own story, that what remains of young Le
Fever's, that is, from this turn of his fortune, to the time my uncle Toby
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 follows. -
    That my uncle Toby, with young Le Fever in his hand, attended the poor
lieutenant, as chief mourners, to his grave.
    That the governor of Dendermond paid his obsequies all military honours, -
and that Yorick, 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 appears, - for it was Yorick's 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, he was ever wont to add some short
comment or stricture upon the sermon itself, seldom, indeed, much to its credit:
- For instance, This sermon upon the jewish dispensation - I don't like it at
all; - Though I own there is a world of WATER-LANDISH 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?
    -- N.B. The excellency of this text is, that it will suit any sermon, - and
of this sermon, -- that it will suit any text. --
    -- For this sermon I shall be hanged, - for I have stolen the greatest part
of it. Doctor Paidagunes found me out. Set a thief to catch a thief. --
    On the back of half a dozen I find written, So, so, and no more -- and upon
a couple Moderato; by which, as far as one may gather from Altieri's Italian
dictionary, - but mostly from the authority of a piece of green whipcord, which
seemed to have been the unravelling of Yorick's whip-lash, with which he has
left us the two sermons marked Moderato, and the half dozen of So, so, tied fast
together in one bundle by themselves, - one may safely suppose he meant pretty
near the same thing.
    There is but one difficulty in the way of this conjecture, which is this,
that the moderato's are five times better than the so, so's; - 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) - discover a thousand times more
genius; - and to crown all, are infinitely more entertaining than those tied up
with them; - for which reason, whene'er Yorick's dramatic sermons are offered to
the world, though I shall admit but one out of the whole number of the so, so's,
I shall, nevertheless, adventure to print the two moderato's without any sort of
scruple.
    What Yorick could mean by the words lentamente, - tenutè, - grave, - and
sometimes adagio, - as applied to theological compositions, and with which he
has characterized some of these sermons, I dare not venture to guess. -- I am
more puzzled still upon finding a l'octava alta! upon one; -- Con strepito upon
the back of another; -- Scicilliana upon a third; -- Alla capella upon a fourth;
-- Con l'arco upon this; -- Senza l'arco 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 of their several
characters upon his fancy, - whatever they may do upon that of others.
    Amongst these, there is that particular sermon which has unaccountably led
me into this digression -- The funeral sermon upon poor Le Fever, 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 length-ways 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 wrote --
 
                                     Bravo!
 
-- 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 Italian hand, as scarce to sollicit
the eye towards the place, whether your thumb is there or not, - so that from
the manner of it, it stands half excused; and being wrote moreover with very
pale ink, diluted almost to nothing, - 'tis more like a ritratto of the shadow
of vanity, than of VANITY 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.
    With all these extenuations, I am aware, that in publishing this, I do no
service to Yorick's 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, -- as if
he had retracted, or was ashamed of the opinion he had once entertained of it.
    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, perhaps, a whole score to turn himself in, - he took a larger
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?
 

                                   Chap. XII.

When my uncle Toby had turned every thing into money, and settled all accounts
betwixt the agent of the regiment and Le Fever, and betwixt Le Fever and all
mankind, -- there remained nothing more in my uncle Toby's hands, than an old
regimental coat and a sword; so that my uncle Toby found little or no opposition
from the world in taking administration. The coat my uncle gave Toby the
corporal; -- Wear it, Trim, said my uncle Toby, as long as it will hold
together, for the sake of the poor lieutenant -- And this, -- said my uncle
Toby, taking up the sword in his hand, and drawing it out of the scabbard as he
spoke -- and this, Le Fever, I'll save for thee, - 'tis all the fortune,
continued my uncle Toby, hanging it up upon a crook, and pointing to it, - 'tis
all the fortune, my dear Le Fever, 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.
    As soon as my uncle Toby had laid a foundation, and taught him to inscribe a
regular polygon in a circle, he sent him to a public school, where, excepting
Whitsontide and Christmas, 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 Hungary against the Turks, kindling a spark
of fire in his bosom, he left his Greek and Latin without leave, and throwing
himself upon his knees before my uncle Toby, begged his father's sword, and my
uncle Toby's leave along with it, to go and try his fortune under Eugene. -
Twice did my uncle Toby forget his wound, and cry out, Le Fever! 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 disconsolation. --
    My uncle Toby took down the sword from the crook, where it had hung
untouched ever since the lieutenant's death, and delivered it to the corporal to
brighten up; -- and having detained Le Fever a single fortnight to equip him,
and contract for his passage to Leghorn, - he put the sword into his hand, -- If
thou art brave, Le Fever, said my uncle Toby, this will not fail thee, -- but
Fortune, said he, (musing a little) -- Fortune may -- And if she does, - added
my uncle Toby, embracing him, come back again to me, Le Fever, and we will shape
thee another course.
    The greatest injury could not have oppressed the heart of Le Fever more than
my uncle Toby's paternal kindness; -- he parted from my uncle Toby, as the best
of sons from the best of fathers -- both dropped tears -- and as my uncle Toby
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.
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

Le Fever got up to the Imperial army just time enough to try what metal his
sword was made of, at the defeat of the Turks before Belgrade; 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 Marseilles, from whence he wrote my uncle
Toby word, he had lost his time, his services, his health, and, in short, every
thing but his sword; -- and was waiting for the first ship to return back to
him.
    As this letter came to hand about six weeks before Susannah's accident, Le
Fever was hourly expected; and was uppermost in my uncle Toby's mind all the
time my father was giving him and Yorick a description of what kind of a person
he would choose for a preceptor to me: but as my uncle Toby thought my father at
first somewhat fanciful in the accomplishments he required, he forbore
mentioning Le Fever's name, -- till the character, by Yorick's interposition,
ending unexpectedly, in one, who should be gentle tempered, and generous, and
good, it impressed the image of Le Fever, and his interest upon my uncle Toby so
forceably, 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 Shandy, said my uncle
Toby, I may recommend poor Le Fever's son to you -- I beseech you, do, added
Yorick -- He has a good heart, said my uncle Toby -- And a brave one too, an'
please your honour, said the corporal.
    -- The best hearts, Trim, are ever the bravest, replied my uncle Toby. --
And the greatest cowards, an' please your honour, in our regiment, were the
greatest rascals in it. -- There was sergeant Kumbur, and ensign --
    -- We'll talk of them, said my father, another time.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

What 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!
    Doctor Slop, 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 Susannah's
accident, than there was any grounds for; so that in a week's time, or less, it
was in every body's mouth, That poor Master Shandy * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * entirely. - And FAME, who loves to double every thing, -
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 * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *; -- but that * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *'s also.«
    Could the world have been sued like a BODY-CORPORATE, - 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 half. --
    -- Was ever poor devil of a country gentleman so hampered? said my father.
    I would show him publicly, said my uncle Toby, at the market cross.
    -- 'Twill have no effect, said my father.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

- I'll put him, however, into breeches, said my father, - let the world say what
it will.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

There 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) been weighed, poized, and perpended -- argued upon -- canvassed
through -- entered into, and examined on all sides with so much coolness, that
the GODDESS of COOLNESS herself (I do not take upon me to prove her existence)
could neither have wished it, or done it better.
    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 pro'd and conn'd, and judicially talked
over betwixt him and my mother about a month before, in two several beds of
justice, 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.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

The ancient Goths of Germany, who (the learned Cluverius is positive) were first
seated in the country between the Vistula and the Oder, and who afterwards
incorporated the Herculi, the Bugians, and some other Vandallick clans to 'em, -
had all of them a wise custom of debating every thing of importance to their
state, twice; that is, - once drunk, and once sober: -- Drunk - that their
counsels might not want vigour; -- and sober - that they might not want
discretion.
    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 Sunday night in the month, and the Saturday night which immediately
preceded it, to argue it over, in bed with my mother: By which contrivance, if
you consider, Sir, with yourself, * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** *.
    These my father, humourously enough, called his beds of justice; -- 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.
    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 Goths and Vandals 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. --
    My way is this: --
    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 full, - and t'other fasting; -- 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 Gothick -- 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 irreconcilable 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 improvement and better manufactury of the
arts and sciences. --
    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 fullness of my heart,
as my stomach. --
    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 understrapping virtue of discretion, as
the best of you. -- So that betwixt both, I write a careless kind of a civil,
nonsensical, good humoured Shandean book, which will do all your hearts good --
    -- And all your heads too, - provided you understand it.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

We 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. Shandy, of putting this boy into breeches. --
    We should so, - said my mother. -- We defer it, my dear, quoth my father,
shamefully. --
    I think we do, Mr. Shandy, - said my mother.
    -- Not but the child looks extremely well, said my father, in his vests and
tunicks. --
    -- He does look very well in them, - replied my mother. --
    -- And for that reason it would be almost a sin, added my father, to take
him out of 'em. --
    -- It would so, - said my mother: -- But indeed he is growing a very tall
lad, - rejoin'd my father.
    -- He is very tall for his age, indeed, - said my mother. --
    -- I can not (making two syllables of it) imagine, quoth my father, who the
duce he takes after. --
    I cannot conceive, for my life, - said my mother. --
    Humph! -- said my father.
    (The dialogue ceased for a moment.)
    -- I am very short myself, - continued my father, gravely.
    You are very short, Mr. Shandy, - said my mother.
    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.
    -- When he gets these breeches made, cried my father in a higher tone, he'll
look like a beast in 'em.
    He will be very awkward in them at first, replied my mother. -
    -- And 'twill be lucky, if that's the worst on't, added my father.
    It will be very lucky, answered my mother.
    I suppose, replied my father, - making some pause first, - he'll be exactly
like other people's children. --
    Exactly, said my mother. --
    -- Though I should be sorry for that, added my father: and so the debate
stopped again.
    -- They should be of leather, said my father, turning him about again. -
They will last him, said my mother, the longest.
    But he can have no linings to 'em, replied my father. --
    He cannot, said my mother.
    'Twere better to have them of fustian, quoth my father.
    Nothing can be better, quoth my mother. --
    -- Except dimity, - replied my father: -- 'Tis best of all, - replied my
mother.
    -- One must not give him his death, however, - interrupted my father.
    By no means, said my mother: -- and so the dialogue stood still again.
    I am resolved, however, quoth my father, breaking silence the fourth time,
he shall have no pockets in them. --
    -- There is no occasion for any, said my mother. --
    I mean in his coat and waistcoat, - cried my father.
    -- I mean so too, - replied mother.
    -- Though if he gets a gig or a top -- Pour souls! it is a crown and a
scepter to them, - they should have where to secure it. --
    Order it as you please, Mr. Shandy, replied my mother. --
    -- But don't you think it right? added my father, pressing the point home to
her.
    Perfectly, said my mother, if it pleases you, Mr. Shandy. --
    -- There's for you! cried my father, losing temper -- Pleases me! -- You
never will distinguish, Mrs. Shandy, nor shall I ever teach you to do it,
betwixt a point of pleasure and a point of convenience. -- -- This was on the
Sunday night; -- and further this chapter sayeth not.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

After my father had debated the affair of the breeches with my mother, - he
consulted Albertus Rubenius upon it; and Albertus Rubenius used my father ten
times worse in the consultation (if possible) than even my father had used my
mother: For as Rubenius had wrote a quarto express, De re Vestiaria Veterum, -
it was Rubenius's 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 Rubenius
upon the subject.
    Upon every other article of ancient dress, Rubenius was very communicative
to my father; - gave him a full and satisfactory account of
The Toga, or loose gown.
The Chlamys.
The Ephod.
The Tunica, or Jacket.
The Synthesis.
The Pænula.
The Lacema, with its Cucullus.
The Paludamentum.
The Prætexta.
The Sagum, or soldier's jerkin.
The Trabea: of which, according to Suetonius, there were three kinds. -
-- But what are all these to the breeches? said my father.
    Rubenius threw him down upon the counter all kinds of shoes which had been
in fashion with the Romans. -- There was,
The open shoe.
The close shoe.
The slip shoe.
The wooden shoe.
The soc.
The buskin.
        And The military shoe with hob-nails in it, which Juvenal takes notice
        of.
There were, The clogs.
The patins.
The pantoufles.
The brogues.
The sandals, with latchets to them.
There was, The felt shoe.
The linen shoe.
The laced shoe.
The braided shoe.
The calceus incisus.
        And The calceus rostratus.
Rubenius showed my father how well they all fitted, - in what manner they laced
on, - with what points, straps, thongs, lachets, ribands, jaggs, and ends. --
    -- But I want to be informed about the breeches, said my father.
    Albertus Rubenius informed my father that the Romans manufactured stuffs of
various fabricks, -- 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
Egyptians coming to settle amongst them, brought it into vogue.
    -- 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
birth-days and public rejoicings. -- That it appeared from the best historians
of those times, that they frequently sent their clothes to the fuller, to be
cleaned and whitened; -- but that the inferior people, to avoid that expense,
generally wore brown clothes, and of a something coarser texture, - till towards
the beginning of Augustus's reign, when the slave dressed like his master, and
almost every distinction of habiliment was lost, but the Latus Clavus.
    And what was the Latus Clavus? said my father.
    Rubenius told him, that the point was still litigating amongst the learned:
-- That Egnatius, Sigonius, Bossius Ticinensis, Bayfius, Budæus, Salmasius,
Lipsius, Lazius, Isaac Causobon, and Joseph Scaliger, 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 Bayfius, in his
Wardrobe of the ancients, chap. 12. - honestly said, he knew not what it was, -
whether a tibula, - a stud, - a button, - a loop, - a buckle, - or clasps and
keepers. --
    -- My father lost the horse, but not the saddle -- They are hooks and eyes,
said my father -- and with hooks and eyes he ordered my breeches to be made.
 

                                   Chap. XX.

We are now going to enter upon a new scene of events. --
    -- Leave we then the breeches in the tailor's hands, with my father standing
over him with his cane, reading him as he sat at work a lecture upon the latus
clavus, and pointing to the precise part of the waistband, where he was
determined to have it sewed on. --
    Leave we my mother - (truest of all the Poco-curante's of her sex!) -
careless about it, as about every thing else in the world which concerned her; -
that is, - indifferent whether it was done this way or that, - provided it was
but done at all. --
    Leave we Slop likewise to the full profits of all my dishonours. --
    Leave we poor Le Fever to recover, and get home from Marseilles as he can.
-- And last of all, - because the hardest of all --
    Let us leave, if possible, myself: -- But 'tis impossible, - I must go along
with you to the end of the work.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

If the reader has not a clear conception of the rood and the half of ground
which lay at the bottom of my uncle Toby's 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.
    When FATE 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 NATURE - 'twas
enough - Nature threw half a spade full of her kindliest compost upon it, with
just so much clay in it, as to retain the forms of angles and indentings, - and
so little of it too, as not to cling to the spade, and render works of so much
glory, nasty in foul weather.
    My uncle Toby came down, as the reader has been informed, with plans along
with him, of almost every fortified town in Italy and Flanders; so let the Duke
of Marlborough, or the allies, have set down before what town they pleased, my
uncle Toby was prepared for them.
    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, etc. - 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 Toby sitting by from morning to night, and chatting
kindly with the corporal upon past-done deeds, - left LABOUR little else but the
ceremony of the name.
    When the place was finished in this manner, and put into a proper posture of
defence, - it was invested, - and my uncle Toby and the corporal began to run
their first parallel. -- I beg I may not be interrupted in my story, by being
told, 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: - for my uncle Toby 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 collyflowers; the conveniences and inconveniences of which will be
considered at large in the history of my uncle Toby's 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 mean time.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

When the town, with its works, was finished, my uncle Toby 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 Toby received from the
daily papers, - they went on, during the whole siege, step by step with the
allies.
    When the duke of Marlborough made a lodgement, -- my uncle Toby made a
lodgement 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.
    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 Marlborough, in the main body of
the place, - to have stood behind the horn-beam hedge, and observed the spirit
with which my uncle Toby, with Trim behind him, sallied forth; -- the one with
the Gazette in his hand, - the other with a spade on his shoulder to execute the
contents. -- What an honest triumph in my uncle Toby's 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 chamade 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.
    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 Flanders mail, and kept them so long in
torture, - but still 'twas the torture of the happy -- In this track, I say, did
my uncle Toby and Trim 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 improvement to their operations, which always
opened fresh springs of delight in carrying them on.
    The first year's campaign was carried on from beginning to end, in the plain
and simple method I've related.
    In the second year, in which my uncle Toby took Liege and Ruremond, he
thought he might afford the expense of four handsome draw-bridges, two of which
I have given an exact description, in the former part of my work.
    At the latter end of the same year he added a couple of gates with
portcullises: -- These last were converted afterwards in orgues, as the better
thing; and during the winter of the same year, my uncle Toby, instead of a new
suit of clothes, which he always had at Christmas, 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.
    -- The sentry-box was in case of rain.
    All these were painted white three times over the ensuing spring, which
enabled my uncle Toby to take the field with great splendour.
    My father would often say to Yorick, that if any mortal in the whole
universe had done such a thing, except his brother Toby, it would have been
looked upon by the world as one of the most refined satyrs upon the parade and
prancing manner, in which Lewis XIV. from the beginning of the war, but
particularly that very year, had taken the field -- But 'tis not my brother
Toby's nature, kind soul! my father would add, to insult any one.
    -- But let us go on.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

I must observe, that although in the first year's campaign, the word town 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 Toby's
campaigns, - when upon his taking Amberg, Bonn, and Rhinberg, and Huy and
Limbourg, one after another, a thought came into the corporal's head, that to
talk of taking so many towns, without one TOWN to show for it, - was a very
nonsensical way of going to work, and so proposed to my uncle Toby, 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.
    My uncle Toby 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.
    The one was to have the town built exactly in the stile 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, etc. etc. - as those in Ghent and
Bruges, and the rest of the towns in Brabant and Flanders.
    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 form
into the plan of whatever town they pleased. This was put directly into hand,
and many and many a look of mutual congratulation was exchanged between my uncle
Toby and the corporal, as the carpenter did the work.
    -- It answered prodigiously the next summer -- the town was a perfect
Proteus -- It was Landen, and Trerebach, and Santvliet, and Drusen, and Hagenau,
- and then it was Ostend and Menin, and Aeth and Dendermond. --
    -- Surely never did any TOWN act so many parts, since Sodom and Gomorrah, as
my uncle Toby's town did.
    In the fourth year, my uncle Toby thinking a town looked foolishly without a
church, added a very fine one with a steeple. -- Trim was for having bells in
it; -- my uncle Toby said, the mettle had better be cast into cannon.
    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 Toby's 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.
    The next year, which was that in which Lisle was besieged, and at the close
of which both Ghent and Bruges fell into our hands, - my uncle Toby was sadly
put to it for proper ammunition; -- I say proper ammunition -- because his great
artillery would not bear powder; and 'twas well for the Shandy 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
Toby's imagination with the accounts of them, that he had infallibly shot away
all his estate.
    SOMETHING therefore was wanting, as a succedaneum, 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 something, 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 desiderata of my uncle
Toby's apparatus.
    This will not be explained the worse, for setting off, as I generally do, at
a little distance from the subject.
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

With two or three other trinkets, small in themselves, but of great regard,
which poor Tom, the corporal's unfortunate brother, had sent him over, with the
account of his marriage with the Jew's widow -- there was
    A Montero-cap and two Turkish tobacco pipes.
    The Montero-cap I shall describe by and bye. -- The Turkish tobacco pipes
had nothing particular in them, they were fitted up and ornamented as usual,
with flexible tubes of Morocco leather and gold wire, and mounted at their ends,
the one of them with ivory, - the other with black ebony, tipp'd with silver.
    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. -- Tom did not care,
Trim, he would say, to put on the cap, or to smoak in the tobacco-pipe of a Jew.
-- God bless your honour, the corporal would say, (giving a strong reason to the
contrary) - how can that be. --
    The Montero-cap was scarlet, of a superfine Spanish cloth, died in grain,
and mounted all round with furr, 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 Portuguese quarter-master, not of foot, but of horse, as the word
denotes.
    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 GALA-days; and yet
never was a Montero-cap put to so 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 oath, - his wager, - or his gift.
    -- 'Twas his gift in the present case.
    I'll be bound, said the corporal, speaking to himself, to give 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.
    The completion was no further off, than the very next morning; which was
that of the storm of the counterscarp betwixt the Lower Deule, to the right, and
the gate St. Andrew, - and on the left, between St. Magdalen's and the river.
    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 Toby
prepared himself for it with a more than ordinary solemnity.
    The eve which preceded as my uncle Toby went to bed, he ordered his ramallie
wig, which had laid inside out for many years in the corner of an old
campaigning 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 Toby, 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 Toby 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 Toby sallied out.
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

My uncle Toby had scarce turned the corner of his yew hedge, which separated his
kitchen garden from his bowling green, when he perceived the corporal had began
the attack without him. --
    Let me stop and give you a picture of the corporal's apparatus; and of the
corporal himself in the height of this attack just as it struck my uncle Toby,
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.
    The corporal --
    -- Tread lightly on his ashes, ye men of genius, -- for he was your kinsman:
    Weed his grave clean, ye men of goodness, - for he was your brother. - Oh
corporal! had I thee, but now, - now, that I am able to give thee a dinner and
protection, - how would I cherish thee! 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 clod of the
valley!
    -- 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 Toby! in what corner of the world shall I seek thy fellow?
    -- 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

The corporal, who the night before had resolved in his mind, to supply the grand
desideratum, 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 of smoking tobacco against the town, out of one of my uncle
Toby's six field pieces, which were planted on each side of his sentry-box; the
means of effecting which occuring to his fancy at the same time, though he had
pledged his cap, he thought it in no danger from the miscarriage of his
projects.
    Upon turning it this way, and that, a little in his mind, he soon began to
find out, that by means of his two Turkish 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 Morocco tube, - he should be able to fire the six field
pieces all together, and with the same ease as to fire one. --
    -- 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 beds of justice, 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 knows how I love them; -- thou knows the
secrets of my heart, and that I would this moment give my shirt -- Thou art a
fool, Shandy, says Eugenius, - for thou hast but a dozen in the world, - and
'twill break thy set. --
    No matter for that, Eugenius; I would give the shirt off my back to be burnt
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 in, - he might, peradventure, strike
something out? as sure as a gun. --
    -- But this project, by the bye.
    The corporal sat up the best part of the night in bringing his 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

The corporal had slipped out about ten minutes before my uncle Toby, in order to
fix his apparatus, and just give the enemy a shot or two before my uncle Toby
came.
    He had drawn the six field-pieces for this end, all close up together in
front of my uncle Toby's 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, etc. - and the sake possibly of two batteries, which he might think
double the honour of one.
    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
counterguard, which faced the counterscarp, 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 puffs, as well as the puffing, 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 Toby joined him.
    'Twas well for my father, that my uncle Toby had not his will to make that
day.
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

My uncle Toby took the ivory pipe out of the corporal's hand, - looked at it for
half a minute, and returned it.
    In less than two minutes my uncle Toby took the pipe from the corporal
again, and raised it half way to his mouth -- then hastily gave it back a second
time.
    The corporal redoubled the attack, -- my uncle Toby smiled, -- then looked
grave, -- then smiled for a moment, -- then looked serious for a long time; --
Give me hold of the ivory pipe, Trim, said my uncle Toby -- my uncle Toby put it
to his lips, -- drew it back directly, -- gave a peep over the horn-beam hedge;
-- never did my uncle Toby's mouth water so much for a pipe in his life. -- My
uncle Toby retired into the sentry-box with the pipe in his hand. --
    -- Dear uncle Toby! 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

I beg the reader will assist me here, to wheel off my uncle Toby's ordnance
behind the scenes, -- to remove his sentry-box, and clear the theatre, if
possible, of horn-works and half-moons, and get the rest of his military
apparatus out of the way; -- that done, my dear friend Garrick, we'll snuff the
candles bright, - sweep the stage with a new broom, - draw up the curtain, and
exhibit my uncle Toby dressed in a new character, throughout which the world can
have no idea how he will act: and yet, if pity be akin to love, - and bravery no
alien to it, you have seen enough of my uncle Toby in these, to trace these
family likenesses, betwixt the two passions (in case there is one) to your
heart's content.
    Vain science! thou assists us in no case of this kind - and thou puzzlest us
in every one.
    There was, Madam, in my uncle Toby, 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 Toby ten times
in a day, through his liver, if nine times in a day, Madam, had not served your
purpose.
    With all this, Madam, - and what confounded every thing as much on the other
hand, my uncle Toby 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

Of the few legitimate sons of Adam, 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; 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 stead. --
    There was the great king Aldrovandus, and Bosphorus, and Capadocius, and
Dardanus, and Pontus, and Asius, -- to say nothing of the iron-hearted Charles
the XIIth, whom the Countess of K * * * * * herself could make nothing of. --
There was Babylonicus, and Mediterraneus, and Polixenes, and Persicus, and
Prusicus, not one of whom (except Capadocius and Pontus, 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 Toby - till Fate -
till Fate I say, envying his name the glory of being handed down to posterity
with Aldrovandus's and the rest, - she basely patched up the peace of Utrecht.
    -- Believe me, Sirs, 'twas the worst deed she did that year.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

Amongst the many ill consequences of the treaty of Utrecht, it was within a
point of giving my uncle Toby a surfeit of sieges; and though he recovered his
appetite afterwards, yet Calais itself left not a deeper scar in Mary's heart,
than Utrecht upon my uncle Toby's. To the end of his life he never could hear
Utrecht mentioned upon any account whatever, - or so much as read an article of
news extracted out of the Utrecht Gazette, without fetching a sigh, as if his
heart would break in twain.
    My father, who was a great MOTIVE-MONGER, 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 Toby upon these occasions, in a way, which showed plainly, he
imagined my uncle Toby grieved for nothing in the whole affair, so much as the
loss of his hobby horse. - Never mind, brother Toby, 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 Toby, he would add, to take countries
without taking towns, -- or towns without sieges.
    My uncle Toby never took this back-stroke of my father's at 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.
    I told the reader, this time two years, that my uncle Toby 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 Toby 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 Toby, for a time, was
at least equal to Tertullus -- but in others, in my own opinion, infinitely
above him.
    My father was so highly pleased with one of these apologetical orations of
my uncle Toby's, which he had delivered one evening before him and Yorick, that
he wrote it down before he went to bed.
    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,
My brother TOBY'S justification of his own principles and conduct in wishing to
continue the war.
I may safely say, I have read over this apologetical oration of my uncle Toby's
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.
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

                     My uncle Toby's apologetical oration.

I am not insensible, brother Shandy, 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.
    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 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 hope, I have been in all these, brother Shandy, 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 Shandy, 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.
    Tell me then, my dear brother Shandy, upon which of them it is, that when I
condemned the peace of Utrecht, 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 Shandy,
upon what one deed of mine do you ground it? [The devil a deed do I know of,
dear TOBY, but one for a hundred pounds, which I lent thee to carry on these
cursed sieges.]
    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?
    When Guy, Earl of Warwick, and Parismus and Parismenus, and Valentine and
Orson, and the Seven Champions of England were handed around the school, - were
they not all purchased with my own pocket money? Was that selfish, brother
Shandy? When we read over the siege of Troy, which lasted ten years and eight
months, -- though with such a train of artillery as we had at Namur, the town
might have been carried in a week - was I not as much concerned for the
destruction of the Greeks and Trojans 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 Helena a bitch for it? Did any one of you shed more tears for Hector?
And when king Priam came to the camp to beg his body, and returned weeping back
to Troy without it, - you know, brother, I could not eat my dinner. --
    -- Did that bespeak me cruel? Or because, brother Shandy, 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?
    O brother! 'tis one thing for a soldier to gather laurels, - and 'tis
another to scatter cypress. -- [Who told thee, my dear Toby, that cypress was
used by the ancients on mournful occasions?]
    -- 'Tis one thing, brother Shandy, 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
Shandy, 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 six-pence a day, if he can get it) to undergo.
    Need I be told, dear Yorick, as I was by you, in Le Fever's funeral sermon,
That so soft and gentle a creature, born to love, to mercy, and kindness, as man
is, was not shaped for this? -- But why did you not add, Yorick, - if not by
NATURE - that he is so by NECESSITY? -- For what is war? what is it, Yorick,
when fought as ours has been, upon principles of liberty, and upon principles of
honour -- 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 Shandy, 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.
 

                                 Chap. XXXIII.

I told the Christian reader -- I say Christian -- 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 book, --
    I told him, Sir -- for in good truth, when a man is telling 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
myself! --
    -- 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 thumbstall, but it is
seen or felt. --
    Quanto id diligentius in liberis procreandis cavendum, sayeth Cardan. All
which being considered, and that you see 'tis morally impracticable for me to
wind this round to where I set out --
    I begin the chapter over again.
 

                                  Chap. XXXIV.

I Told the Christian reader in the beginning of the chapter which preceded my
uncle Toby's apologetical oration, - though in a different trope from what I
shall make use of now, That the peace of Utrecht was within an ace of creating
the same shyness betwixt my uncle Toby and his hobby-horse, as it did betwixt
the queen and the rest of the confederating powers.
    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 Toby 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 viciously, which made my uncle Toby 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 Toby and his hobby-horse. --
He had no occasion for him from the month of March to November, 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 Dunkirk were
demolished, according to stipulation.
    The French were so backwards all that summer in setting about that affair,
and Monsieur Tugghe, the deputy from the magistrates of Dunkirk, presented so
many affecting petitions to the queen, - beseeching her majesty to cause only
her thunderbolts 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, * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **--* ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** *; so that the whole went heavily on with my uncle Toby; 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, negotiators, and intendants, would permit him to set
about it. -- Fatal interval of inactivity!
    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 Toby, for in going that way to work with the town, the
English garrison will not be safe in it an hour; because if the French are
treacherous -- They are as treacherous as devils, an' please your honour, said
the corporal -- It gives me concern always when I hear it, Trim, said my uncle
Toby, - 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 Toby, 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 sea and the land, and particularly with fort Louis, 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 England. -- We are
there, quoth the corporal, recollecting himself -- Very true, said my uncle Toby
- looking at the church.
 

                                  Chap. XXXV.

A delusive, delicious consultation or two of this kind, betwixt my uncle Toby
and Trim, upon the demolition of Dunkirk, - 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 - STILLNESS, with SILENCE
at her back, entered the solitary parlour, and drew their gauzy mantle over my
uncle Toby's head; -- and LISTLESSNESS, with her lax fibre and undirected eye,
sat quietly down beside him in his arm chair. -- No longer Amberg, and Rhinberg,
and Limbourg, and Huy, and Bonn, in one year, - and the prospect of Landen, and
Trerebach, and Drusen, and Dendermond, 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 Toby, after passing
the French lines, as he eat his egg at supper, from thence break into the heart
of France, - cross over the Oyes, and with all Picardie open behind him, march
up to the gates of Paris, 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
Bastille, and awake with it streaming in his head.
    -- 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 Toby?
 

                                  Chap. XXXVI.

Now, because I have once or twice said, in my inconsiderate way of talking, That
I was confident the following memoirs of my uncle Toby's courtship of widow
Wadman, whenever I got time to write them, would turn out one of the most
complete systems, 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 what love is? whether part
God and part Devil, as Plotinus will have it --
    -- Or by a more critical equation, and supposing the whole of love to be as
ten -- to determine, with Ficinus, »How many parts of it - the one, - and how
many the other;« - or whether it is all of it one great Devil, from head to
tail, as Plato has taken upon him to pronounce; concerning which conceit of his,
I shall not offer my opinion: - but my opinion of Plato is this; that he
appears, from this instance, to have been a man of much the same temper and way
of reasoning with doctor Baynyard, who being a great enemy to blisters, as
imagining that half a dozen of 'em on 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 Cantharidis. --
    I have nothing to say to people who allow themselves this monstrous liberty
in arguing, but what Nazianzen cried out (that is polemically) to Philagrius --
    »Eyge!« O rare! 'tis fine reasoning, Sir, indeed! - »oti pilosopeis en
Patesi« -- and most nobly do you aim at truth, when you philosophize about it in
your moods and passions.
    Nor is it to be imagined, for the same reason, I should stop to enquire,
whether love is a disease, -- or embroil myself with Rhasis and Dioscorides,
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 Aoetius, who always begun with a cooling glyster of
hempseed and bruised cucumbers; - and followed on with thin potations of snuff,
of the herb Hanea; - and where Aoetius durst venture it, - his topaz-ring.
    -- The other, that of Gordonius, who (in his cap. 15. de Amore) directs they
should be thrashed, »ad putorem usque,« -- till they stink again.
    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
Toby's affairs: I must anticipate thus much, That from his theories of love,
(with which, by the way, he contrived to crucify my uncle Toby's 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 means to impose upon the tailor
for buckram, whilst he was making my uncle Toby a new pair of breeches, he
produced Gordonius's effect upon my uncle Toby without the disgrace.
    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 Toby, -- it had a vile effect upon the house; -- and if my uncle
Toby had not smoked it down as he did, it might have had a vile effect upon my
father too.
 

                                 Chap. XXXVII.

- 'Twill 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 mystick labyrinth, - my Opinion will
then come in, in course, - and lead me out.
    At present, I hope I shall be sufficiently understood, in telling the
reader, my uncle Toby fell in love:
    - Not that the phrase is at all to my liking: for to say a man is fallen in
love, - or that he is deeply in love, - or up to the ears in love, - and
sometimes even over head and ears in it, - carries an idiomatical kind of
implication, that love is a thing below a man: - this is recurring again to
Plato's opinion, which, with all his divinityship, - I hold to be damnable and
heretical; - and so much for that.
    Let love therefore be what it will, - my uncle Toby fell into it.
    -- And possibly, gentle reader, with such a temptation - so wouldst thou:
For never did thy eyes behold, or thy concupiscence covet any thing in this
world, more concupiscible than widow Wadman.
 

                                 Chap. XXXVIII.

To 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.
 
                            [Blank page following.]
 
-- Was ever any thing in Nature so sweet! - so exquisite!
    -- Then, dear Sir, how could my uncle Toby resist it?
    Thrice happy book! thou wilt have one page, at least, within thy covers,
which MALICE will not blacken, and which IGNORANCE cannot misrepresent.
 

                                  Chap. XXXIX.

As Susannah was informed by an express from Mrs. Bridget, of my, uncle Toby's
falling in love with her mistress, fifteen days before it happened, - the
contents of which express, Susannah communicated to my mother the next day, - it
has just given me an opportunity of entering upon my uncle Toby's amours a
fortnight before their existence.
    I have an article of news to tell you, Mr. Shandy, quoth my mother, which
will surprise you greatly. --
    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
silence. --
    -- My brother Toby, quoth she, is going to be married to Mrs. Wadman.
    -- Then he will never, quoth my father, be able to lie diagonally in his bed
again as long as he lives.
    It was a consuming vexation to my father, that my mother never asked the
meaning of a thing she did not understand.
    -- That she is not a woman of science, my father would say - is her
misfortune - but she might ask a question. -
    My mother never did. -- In short, she went out of the world at last without
knowing whether it turned round, or stood still. -- My father had officiously
told her above a thousand times which way it was, - but she always forgot.
    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.
    If he marries, 'twill be the worse for us, - quoth my mother.
    Not a cherry-stone, said my father, - he may as well batter away his means
upon that, as any thing else.
    -- To be sure, said my mother: so here ended the proposition, - the reply, -
and the rejoinder, I told you of.
    It will be some amusement to him, too, -- said my father.
    A very great one, answered my mother, if he should have children. --
    -- Lord have mercy upon me, - said my father to himself -- * ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
 

                                   Chap. XL.

I am 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 Toby's story, and my own, in a tolerable straight line. Now,
 
These were the four lines I moved in through my first, second, third, and fourth
volumes. -- In the fifth volume I have been very good, -- the precise line I
have described in it being this:
 
By which it appears, that except at the curve, marked A. where I took a trip to
Navarre, - and the indented curve B. which is the short airing when I was there
with the lady Baussiere and her page, - I have not taken the least frisk of a
digression, till John de la Casse's devils led me the round you see marked D. -
for as for c c c c c they are nothing but parentheses, and the common ins and
outs 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.
    In this last volume I have done better still - for from the end of Le Fever'
s episode, to the beginning of my uncle Toby's campaigns, - I have scarce
stepped a yard out of my way.
    If I mend at this rate, it is not impossible -- by the good leave of his
grace of Benevento's devils -- but I may arrive hereafter at the excellency of
going on even thus;
 
                    ---------------------------------------
 
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.
    This right line, - the path-way for Christians to walk in! say divines --
    -- The emblem of moral rectitude! says Cicero --
    -- The best line! say cabbage-planters -- is the shortest line, says
Archimedes, which can be drawn from one given point to another. --
    I wish your ladyships would lay this matter to heart in your next birthday
suits!
    -- What a journey!
    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 GRAVITATION.
 
                            End of the Sixth Volume.
 

                                  Volume VII.

 Non enim excursus hic ejus, sed opus ipsum est.
                                              Plin. Lib. quintus Epistola sexta.
 

                                    Chap. I.

No -- 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 machine, 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.
    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 burdens 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 DEATH 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 commission --
    »There must certainly be some mistake in this matter,« quoth he.
    Now there is nothing in this world I abominate worse, than to be interrupted
in a story -- and I was that moment telling Eugenius 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 showing him the grounds and justice of the procedure --
    »- Did ever so grave a personage get into so vile a scrape?« quoth Death.
Thou hast had a narrow escape, Tristram, said Eugenius, taking hold of my hand
as I finish'd my story --
    But there is no living, Eugenius, replied I, at this rate; for as this son
of a whore has found out my lodgings --
    - You call him rightly, said Eugenius, - for by sin, we are 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
Eugenius 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, Eugenius, fly for my life? 'Tis my
advice, my dear Tristram, said Eugenius -- 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 Garonne; and if I hear him clattering at my heels
-- I'll scamper away to mount Vesuvius -- from thence to Joppa, and from Joppa
to the world's end, where, if he follows me, I pray God he may break his neck --
    - He runs more risk there, said Eugenius, than thou. Eugenius's 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 --
Allons! said I; the post boy gave a crack with his whip -- off I went like a
cannon, and in half a dozen bounds got into Dover.
 

                                   Chap. II.

Now hang it! quoth I, as I look'd towards the French coast - a man should know
something of his own country too, before he goes abroad -- and I never gave a
peep into Rochester church, or took notice of the dock of Chatham, or visited
St. Thomas at Canterbury, though they all three laid in my way --
    - But mine, indeed, is a particular case --
    So without arguing the matter further with Thomas o'Becket, or any one else
- I skip'd into the boat, and in five minutes we got under sail and scudded away
like the wind.
    Pray captain, quoth I, as I was going down into the cabin, is a man never
overtaken by Death in this passage?
    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 dey! 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,
are all jumbled into one mass -- good g -! every thing turns round in it like a
thousand whirlpools - I'd give a shilling to know if I shan't write the clearer
for it --
    Sick! sick! sick! sick! --
    - 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 matter -
    The wind chopp'd about! s'Death! - then I shall meet him full in the face.
    What luck! - 'tis chopp'd about again, master - O the devil chop it --
    Captain, quoth she, for heaven's sake, let us get ashore.
 

                                   Chap. III.

It is a great inconvenience to a man in a haste, that there are three distinct
roads between Calais and Paris, 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.
    First, the road by Lisle and Arras, which is the most about -- but most
interesting, and instructing.
    The second that by Amiens, which you may go, if you would see Chantilly --
    And that by Beauvais, which you may go, if you will.
    For this reason a great many choose to go by Beauvais.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

»Now before I quit Calais,« 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 wrote and
gallop'd - or who have gallop'd and wrote, which is a different way still; or
who for more expedition than the rest, have wrote-galloping, which is the way I
do at present -- from the great Addison 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 galloper 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, dry
shod, as well as not.
    For my own part, as heaven is my judge, and to which I shall ever make my
last appeal - I know no more of Calais, (except the little my barber told me of
it, as he was whetting his razor) than I do this moment of Grand Cairo; 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 Calais 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 Calais itself - and where, Sir, would be the
wonder? was not Democritus, who laughed ten times more than I - town-clerk of
Abdera? and was not (I forget his name) who had more discretion than us both,
town-clerk of Ephesus? -- it should be penn'd moreover, Sir, with so much
knowledge and good sense, and truth, and precision --
    - Nay - if you don't believe me, you may read the chapter for your pains.
 

                                    Chap. V.

Calais, Calatium, Calusium, Calesium.
    This town, if we may trust it's archives, the authority of which I see no
reason to call in question in this place - was once no more than a small village
belonging to one of the first Counts de Guines; and as it boasts at present of
no less than fourteen thousand inhabitants, exclusive of four hundred and twenty
distinct families in the basse ville, or suburbs -- it must have grown up by
little and little, I suppose, to it's present size.
    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 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 Mary; 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 Calvary itself - therefore, I suppose it must be high
enough in all conscience.
    There was nothing struck me more than the great Square; 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 Calais, 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 French in general have more reason
on their side in calling them Places than Squares, which strictly speaking, to
be sure they are not.
    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.
    I had heard much of it, but there is nothing at all curious in the Courgain;
'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 La Tour de
Guet, 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.
    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 Philip of France Count of Bologne, to the present war, wherein many
reparations were made, have cost (as I learned afterwards from an engineer in
Gascony) - above a hundred millions of livres. It is very remarkable that at the
Tête de Gravelenes, and where the town is naturally the weakest, they have
expended the most money; so that the outworks stretch a great way into the
campaign, and consequently occupy a large tract of ground. - However, after all
that is said and done, it must be acknowledged that Calais was never upon any
account so considerable from itself, as from its situation, and that easy
enterance which it gave our ancestors upon all occasions into France: it was not
without its inconveniences also; being no less troublesome to the English in
those times, than Dunkirk 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
Calais, or rather the blockade (for it was shut up both by land and sea) was the
most memorable, as it withstood the efforts of Edward the third a whole year,
and was not terminated at last but by famine and extream misery; the gallantry
of Eustace de St. Pierre, 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 Rapin's own words:
 

                                   Chap. VI.

- But 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 unworldly 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 see 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.
    - So put on, my brave boy! and make the best of thy way to Boulogne.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

- Boulogne! -- 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 Size-Ace!
quoth I. No; quoth a third, the gentleman has been committing -- --.
    Ah! ma chere fille! 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 Ace, for a thousand pounds;
Nor would I, quoth Size, for six times the sum - Well thrown, Size-Ace, again!
quoth I; - but I have no debt but the debt of NATURE, and I want but patience of
her, and I will pay her every farthing I owe her -- How can you be so
hard-hearted, MADAM, 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 lady --.
    -- Now, in troth, 'tis a great pity, quoth mine Irish host, that all this
good courtship should be lost; for the young gentlewoman has been after going
out of hearing of it all along --.
    -- Simpleton! quoth I.
    -- So you have nothing else in Boulogne worth seeing?
    - By Jasus! there is the finest SEMINARY for the HUMANITIES --.
    - There cannot be a finer; quoth I.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

When the precipitancy of a man's wishes hurries on his ideas ninety times faster
than the vehicles 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!
    As I never give general characters either of men or things in choler, »the
most haste, the worst speed;« 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 befall 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:
    That something is always wrong in a French post-chaise upon first setting
out.
    Or the proposition may stand thus.
    A French postilion has always to alight before he has got three hundred
yards out of town.
    What's wrong now? -- Diable! -- a rope's broke! --a knot has splipped! -- 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. --
    Now true as all this is, I never think myself impower'd 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 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 discover'd such a
pearly row of teeth, that Sovereignty would have pawn'd her jewels for them. --
Just heaven!
                                                            What masticators! --
                                                                  What bread! --
and so, as he finish'd the last mouthful of it, we enter'd the town of
Montreuil.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

There is not a town in all France, which in my opinion, looks better in the map,
than MONTREUIL; -- 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.
    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 Amiens, and six at Paris,
in going through her classes; so knits, and sews, and dances, and does the
little coquetries very well. --
    - 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 exactly. --
    -- That Nature should have told this creature a word about a statue's thumb!
--
    - 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 Janatone
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
determin'd a pencil, as if I had her in the wettest drapery. --
    - But your worships choose rather that I give you the length, breadth, and
perpendicular height of the great parish church, or a drawing of the fascade of
the abbey of Saint Austreberte which has been transported from Artois hither -
every thing is just I suppose as the masons and carpenters left them, - and if
the belief in Christ continues so long, will be so these fifty years to come -
so your worships and reverences, may all measure them at your leisures -- but he
who measures thee, Janatone, 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; e'er twice twelve months are pass'd and
gone, thou mayst grow out like a pumkin, and lose thy shapes -- or, thou mayst
go off like a flower, and lose thy beauty -- nay, thou mayst go off like a
hussy - and lose thyself. -- I would not answer for my aunt Dinah, was she alive
-- 'faith, scarce for her picture -- were it but painted by Reynolds -
    - But if I go on with my drawing, after naming that son of Apollo, I'll be
shot --
    So you must e'en be content with the original; which if the evening is fine
in passing thro' Montreuil, 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 devote: but that, Sir, is a terce to a nine in
your favour --
    - L - help me! I could not count a single point: so had been piqued, and
repiqued, and capotted to the devil.
 

                                    Chap. X.

All which being considered, and that Death moreover might be much nearer me than
I imagined -- I wish I was at Abbeville, quoth I, were it only to see how they
card and spin -- so off we set.
27de Montreuil a Nampont-poste et demi
de Nampont a Bernay - - - poste
de Bernay a Nouvion - - - poste
de Nouvion a ABBEVILLE poste
-- but the carders and spinners were all gone to bed.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

What 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.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

Was I in a condition to stipulate with death, as I am this moment with my
apothecary, how and where I will take his glister -- 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 Abbeville -- if there was not another inn in the universe, I would strike
that inn out of the capitulation: so.
    Let the horses be in the chaise exactly by four in the morning -- Yes, by
four, Sir, -- or by Genevieve! I'll raise a clatter in the house, shall wake the
dead.
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

»Make them like unto a wheel,« is a bitter sarcasm, as all the learned know,
against the grand tour, and that restless spirit for making it, which David
prophetically foresaw would haunt the children of men in the latter days; and
therefore, as thinketh the great bishop Hall, 'tis one of the severest
imprecations which David 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.
    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 devil --
    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 moment --
    Now the wheel we are talking of, and whereinto (but not whereonto, 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- wheel, whether they were set
up in Palestine 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.
    I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever I dare tell my dear Jenny) for
their »xorismoy apo toy Somatos, eis to Kalos pilosopein« -- [their] »getting
out of the body, in order to think well.« 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 --
REASON is, half of it, SENSE; and the measure of heaven itself is but the
measure of our present appetites and concoctions --
    -- But which of the two, in the present case, do you think to be mostly in
the wrong?
    You, certainly: quoth she, to disturb a whole family so early.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

- But she did not know I was under a vow not to shave my beard till I got to
Paris; -- yet I hate to make mysteries of nothing; -- 'tis the cold cautiousness
of one of those little souls from which Lessius (lib. 13. de moribus divinis,
cap. 24.) hath made his estimate, wherein he setteth forth, That one Dutch 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 Adam) as can possibly be damn'd to the end of the world.
    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
Franciscus Ribbera's head, who pretends that no less a space than one of two
hundred Italian miles multiplied into itself, will be sufficient to hold the
like number -- he certainly must have gone upon some of the old Roman souls, of
which he had read, without reflecting how much, by a gradual and most tabid
decline, in a course of eighteen hundred years, they must unavoidably have
shrunk, so as to have come, when he wrote, almost to nothing.
    In Lessius's time, who seems the cooler man, they were as little as can be
imagined --
    -- We find them less now --
    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 --
    Blessed Jupiter! and blessed every other heathen god and goddess! for now ye
will all come into play again, and with Priapus 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.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

- »So hating, I say, to make mysteries of nothing« -- I entrusted 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 Ailly au clochers, 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 France).
And so making all possible speed, from
Ailly au clochers, I got to Hixcourt,
from Hixcourt, I got to Pequignay, and
from Pequignay, I got to AMIENS,
concerning which town I have nothing to inform you, but what I have informed you
once before -- and that was -- that Janatone went there to school.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

In the whole catalogue of those whiffling vexations which come puffing across a
man's canvas, 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.
    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 Euclid, 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 half, that is but nine) -- were it to save your soul from destruction.
    - 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 Louis 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 le Curè offers you
a pinch of snuff -- or a poor soldier shows you his leg -- or a shaveling his
box -- or the priestesse of the cistern will water your wheels -- they do not
want it -- but she swears by her priesthood (throwing it back) that they do: --
then you have all these points to argue, or consider over in your mind; in doing
of which, the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened -- you may get 'em to
sleep again as you can.
    It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes, or I had pass'd clean by
the stables of Chantilly --
    -- But the postillion 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 Chantilly 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 pass'd through
St. Dennis, without turning my head so much as on side towards the Abby --
    - 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
Jaidas's lantern -- nor for that either, only as it grows dark, it might be of
use.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

Crack, crack -- crack, crack -- crack, crack -- so this is Paris! quoth I
(continuing in the same mood) -- and this is Paris! -- humph! -- Paris! cried I,
repeating the name the third time --
    The first, the finest, the most brilliant --
    - The streets however are nasty;
    But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells -- crack, crack -- crack,
crack -- What a fuss thou makest! - as if it concern'd the good people to be
inform'd, That a man with pale face, and clad in black, had the honour to be
driven into Paris at nine o'clock at night, by a postillion in a tawny yellow
jerkin turned up with red calamanco -- crack, crack -- crack, crack -- crack,
crack -- I wish thy whip --
    -- But 'tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack - crack on.
    Ha! -- and no one gives the wall! -- but in the SCHOOL of URBANITY herself,
if the walls are besh-t - how can you do otherwise?
    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, encore --
    -- 'Tis too much for sinners.
    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 Paris to turn a wheel-barrow?
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.
    One - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten. - Ten
cook's shops! and twice the number of barber's! 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 Paris: the French love good eating -- they are all gourmands -- we shall
rank high; if their god is their belly -- their cooks must be gentlemen: and
forasmuch as the periwig maketh the man, and the periwig-maker maketh the
periwig -- ergo, would the barbers say, we shall rank higher still - we shall be
above you all - we shall be28 Capitouls at least - pardi! we shall all wear
swords --
    - And so, one would swear, (that is by candle-light, - but there is no
depending upon it) they continue to do, to this day.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

The French 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, »That they who have seen Paris, have seen every thing,«
they must mean to speak of those who have seen it by day-light.
    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, etc. ... 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 to you
in Paris - 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
seen, felt, heard and understood (which, by the bye is a quotation from Lilly)
-- the devil a one of us out of fifty, can get our heads fairly thrust in
amongst them.
    This is no part of the French computation: 'tis simply this.
    That by the last survey taken in the year one thousand seven hundred and
sixteen, since which time there have been considerable augmentations, Paris doth
contain nine hundred streets; (viz.)
    In the quarter called the City - there are fifty three streets.
    In St. James of the Shambles, fifty five streets.
    In St. Oportune, thirty four streets.
    In the quarter of the Louvre, twenty five streets.
    In the Palace Royal, or St. Honorius, forty nine streets.
    In Mont. Martyr, forty one streets.
    In St. Eustace, twenty nine streets.
    In the Halles, twenty seven streets.
    In St. Dennis, fifty five streets.
    In St. Martin, fifty four streets.
    In St. Paul, or the Mortellerie, twenty seven streets.
    The Greve, thirty eight streets.
    In St. Avoy, or the Verrerie, nineteen streets.
    In the Marais, or the Temple, fifty two streets.
    In St. Antony's, sixty eight streets.
    In the Place Maubert, eighty one streets.
    In St. Bennet, sixty streets.
    In St. Andrews de Arcs, fifty one streets.
    In the quarter of the Luxembourg, sixty two streets.
    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. Roche and Sulpice - - - 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 choose -
    -- Then you will have seen --
    -- but, 'tis what no one needeth to tell you, for you will read it yourself
upon the portico of the Louvre, in these words,
    EARTH29 NO SUCH FOLKS! - NO FOLKS E'ER SUCH A TOWN
    AS PARIS IS! - SING, DERRY, DERRY, DOWN.
    The French have a gay way of treating every thing that is Great; and that is
all can be said upon it.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

In mentioning the word gay (as in the close of the last chapter) it puts one (
i.e. an author) in mind of the word spleen -- especially if he has any thing 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 here -
 
                                    Spleen.
 
This, upon leaving Chantilly, 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 one's service - it has spoiled me
the digestion of a good supper, and brought on a bilious diarrhæa, 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 Garonne -
    --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 reflections --
    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 Fontainbleau before the
king --
    - Was he going there? not that I know --
 

                                   Chap. XX.

Now I hate to hear a person, especially if he be a traveller, complain that we
do not get on so fast in France as we do in England; whereas we get on much
faster, consideratis, considerandis; 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 French post-horse would
not know what in the world to do, was it not for the two words * * * * * * and *
* * * * * in which there is asmuch 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 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 -
full 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 facete contrivance I might so modulate them, that whilst I satisfy
that ear which the reader chooses to lend me - I might not dissatisfy the other
which he keeps to himself.
    -- My ink burns my finger to try -- and when I hav -- 'twill have a worse
consequence -- it will burn (I fear) my paper.
    -- No; -- I dare not --
    But if you wish to know how the abbess of Andoüillets, 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

The abbess of Andoüillets, which if you look into the large set of provincial
maps now publishing at Paris, you will find situated amongst the hills which
divide Burgundy from Savoy, being in danger of an Anchylosis or stiff joint (the
sinovia of her knee becoming hard by long matins) and having tried every remedy
-- first, prayers and thanksgiving; then invocations 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 Lystra, 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 Bourbon -- 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, etc. - had gained such
an interest, that overlooking a sciatical old nun, who might have been set up
for ever by the hot baths of Bourbon, Margarita, the little novice, was elected
as the companion of the journey.
    An old calesh, belonging to the abbess, 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 shreds 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 tailor 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 thong --
    -- The carpenter and the smith of Andoüillets 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 Bourbon - two rows of the unfortunate stood ready
there an hour before.
    The abbess of Andoüillets, supported by Margarita the novice, advanced
slowly to the calesh, both clad in white, with their black rosaries hanging at
their breasts --
    -- There was a simple solemnity in the contrast: they entered the calesh;
the nuns in the same uniform, sweet emblem of innocence, each occupied a window,
and as the abbess and Margarita 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
lily hand which let it go: the good abbess and Margarita laid their hands
saint-wise upon their breasts - look'd up to heaven - then to them - and look'd
»God bless you, dear sisters.«
    I declare I am interested in this story, and wish I had been there.
    The gardener, who I shall now call the muleteer, was a little, hearty,
broadset, good natured, chattering, toping kind of a fellow, who troubled his
head very little with the hows and whens 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
legal vent of the borrachio, before one half of the journey was finish'd.
    Man is a creature born to habitudes. The day had been sultry - the evening
was delicious - the wine was generous - the Burgundian 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.«
    -- The muleteer was a son of Adam. I need not say one word more. He gave the
mules, each of 'em, a sound lash, and looking in the abbess's and Margarita's
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.
    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 Andoüillets, etc. etc. and out of friendship for the abbess and
Mademoiselle Margarita, who was only in her novitiate, he had come along with
them from the confines of Savoy, etc. - etc. - 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, etc. etc. and that if the waters of Bourbon did not mend
that leg - she might as well be lame of both - etc. etc. etc. - 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 downwards (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 ethics, 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 Margarita.
    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 them --
    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 hide. --
    And so with one consent they stopp'd thus --
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

- Get on with you, said the abbess.
    -- Wh----ysh -- ysh -- cried Margarita.
    Sh---a -- shu-u -- shu - u - sh - aw -- shaw'd the abbess.
    -- Whu - v - w -- whew - w - w - whuv'd Margarita, pursing up her sweet lips
betwixt a hoot and a whistle.
    Thump - thump - thump - obstreperated the abbess of Andoüillets with the end
of her gold-headed cane against the bottom of the calesh --
    -- The old mule let a f -
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

We are ruin'd and undone, my child, said the abbess to Margarita -- we shall be
here all night -- we shall be plunder'd -- we shall be ravish'd --
    -- We shall be ravish'd, said Margarita, as sure as a gun.
    Sancta Maria! cried the abbess (forgetting the O!) - why was I govern'd by
this wicked stiff joint? why did I leave the convent of Andoüillets? and why
didst thou not suffer thy servant to go unpolluted to her tomb?
    O my finger! my finger! cried the novice, catching fire at the word servant
- why was I not content to put it here, or there, any where rather than be in
this strait?
    -- Strait! said the abbess.
    Strait -- said the novice; for terror had struck their understandings --
the one knew not what she said -- the other what she answer'd.
    O my virginity! virginity! cried the abbess.
    -- inity! -- inity! said the novice, sobbing.
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

My 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 Margarita calmly - but they are words sinful
- What are they? quoth the abbess, interrupting her: They are sinful in the
first degree, answered Margarita, - 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 Andoüillets -- 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.
    Heaven! hadst thou no guardian angel to delegate to the inn at the bottom of
the hill? was there no generous and friendly spirit unemploy'd -- no agent in
nature, by some monitory shivering, creeping along the artery which led to his
heart, to rouze the muleteer from his banquet? -- no sweet minstrelsy to bring
back the fair idea of the abbess and Margarita, with their black rosaries!
    Rouse! rouse! -- but 'tis too late - the horrid words are pronounced this
moment --
    -- and how to tell them -- Ye, who can speak of every thing existing, with
unpolluted lips -- instruct me -- guide me --
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

All 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.
    Now I see no sin in saying, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, a hundred times
together; nor is there any turpitude in pronouncing the syllable ger, ger, ger,
ger, ger, were it from our matins to our vespers: Therefore, my dear daughter,
continued the abbess of Andoüillets - I will say bou, and thou shalt say ger;
and then alternately, as there is no more sin in fou then in bou - Thou shalt
say fou - and I will come in (like fa, sol, la, re, mi, ut, at our complines)
with ter. And accordingly the abbess, giving the pitch note, set off thus:
    Abbess,
    Margarita,
                                                               Bou-- bou-- bou--
                                                            -- ger,-- ger,-- ger
    Margarita,
    Abbess,
                                                               Fou-- fou-- fou--
                                                           -- ter,-- ter,-- ter.
 
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.
 
Abbess,
Margarita,
                                                   Bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- bou-
                                                 - ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, ger,
 
Quicker still, cried Margarita.
Fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou.
Quicker still, cried Margarita.
Bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou.
 
Quicker still - God preserve me! said the abbess - They do not understand us,
cried Margarita - But the Devil does, said the abbess of Andoüillets.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

What 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 FONTAINBLEAU,
and SENS, and JOIGNY, and AUXERRE, and DIJON the capital of Burgundy, and
CHALLON, and Mâcon the capital of the Mâconese, and a score more upon the road
to LYONS -- 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
will --
    - Why, 'tis a strange story! Tristram.
    -- 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 it --
    -- I wish I never had wrote it: but as I never blot any thing out -- let us
use some honest means to get it out of our heads directly.
    -- Pray reach me my fool's cap -- I fear you sit upon it, Madam -- 'tis
under the cushion -- I'll put it on --
    Bless me! you have had it upon your head this half hour. -- There then let
it stay, with a
Fa-ra diddle di
and a fa-ri diddle d
and a high-dum - dye-dum
fiddle---dumb-c.
And now, Madam, we may venture, I hope, a little to go on.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

- All you need say of Fountainbleau (in case you are ask'd) is, that it stands
about forty miles (south something) from Paris, 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, with his whole court, for the pleasure of the chase - and
that during that carnival of sporting, any English 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 king --
    Though there are two reasons why you need not talk loud of this to every
one.
    First, Because 'twill make the said nags the harder to be got; and
    Secondly, 'Tis not a word of it true. -- Allons!
    As for SENS -- you may dispatch it in a word -- »'Tis an archiepiscopal see.
«
    -- For JOIGNY - the less, I think, one says of it, the better.
    But for AUXERRE - I could go on for ever: for in my grand tour through
Europe, in which, after all, my father (not caring to trust me with any one)
attended me himself, with my uncle Toby, and Trim, and Obadiah, 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 SHANDY HALL, to
keep things right during the expedition; in which, I say, my father stopping us
two days at Auxerre, 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
AUXERRE: in short, wherever my father went -- but 'twas more remarkably so, in
this journey through France and Italy, than in any other stages of his life --
his road seemed to lie so much on one side of that, wherein all other travellers
had 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 Toby and Trim - (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 mixed and tragicomical a contexture - That
the whole put together, it appears of so different a shade and tint from any
tour of Europe, 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 it's head to stand still. -
    -- 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 AUXERRE.
    -- As I have mentioned it - 'tis too slight to be kept suspended; and when
'tis wove in, there's an end of it.
    We'll go, brother Toby, said my father, whilst dinner is coddling - to the
abby of Saint Germain, if it be only to see these bodies, of which Monsieur
Sequier has given such a recommendation. -- I'll go see any body; quoth my uncle
Toby; for he was all compliance thro' every step of the journey -- Defend me!
said my father - they are all mummies -- Then one need not shave; quoth my uncle
Toby -- 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 Germain.
    Every thing is very fine, and very rich, and very superb, and very
magnificent, said my father, addressing himself to the sacristan, who was a
young brother of the order of Benedictines - but our curiosity has led us to see
the bodies, of which Monsieur Sequier 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.
Heribald -- This, said the sacristan, laying his hand upon the tomb, was a
renowned prince of the house of Bavaria, who under the successive reigns of
Charlemagne, Louis le Debonair, and Charles the Bald, bore a great sway in the
government, and had a principal hand in bringing every thing into order and
discipline --
    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.
    My uncle Toby and Trim sought comfort in each others faces - but found it
not: my father clapp'd both his hands upon his codpiece, which was a way he had
when any thing 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
Toby and Trim so much harder than him, 'twas a relative triumph; and put him
into the gayest humour in the world.
    -- And pray what do you call this gentleman? quoth my father, rather
sportingly: This tomb, said the young Benedictine, looking downwards, contains
the bones of Saint MAXIMA, who came from Ravenna on purpose to touch the body --
    -- Of Saint MAXIMUS, 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 Germain
the builder of the abby -- And what did she get by it? said my uncle Toby --
What does any woman get by it? said my father - MARTYRDOME; replied the young
Benedictine, 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 Benedictine, that St. Maxima has lain in this tomb four
hundred years, and two hundred before her canonization -- 'Tis but a slow rise,
brother Toby, quoth my father, in this self same army of martyrs. -- A desperate
slow one, an' please your honour, said Trim, unless one could purchase -- I
should rather sell out entirely, quoth my uncle Toby -- I am pretty much of your
opinion, brother Toby, said my father.
    -- Poor St. Maxima! said my uncle Toby low to himself, as we turn'd from her
tomb: She was one of the fairest and most beautiful ladies either of Italy or
France, 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 Optat, Sir, answered the sacristan -- And properly is
Saint Optat plac'd! said my father: And what is Saint Optat's story? continued
he, Saint Optat, replied the sacristan, was a bishop --
    -- I thought so, by heaven! cried my father, interrupting him -- Saint
Optat! -- how should Saint Optat fail? so snatching out his pocket-book, and the
young Benedictine 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 St.
Optat's 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 Auxerre.
    - I'll see the rest of these good gentry to-morrow, said my father, as we
cross'd over the square - And while you are paying that visit, brother Shandy,
quoth my uncle Toby - the corporal and I will mount the ramparts.
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

- Now this is the most puzzled skein of all - for in this last chapter, as far
at least as it has help'd me through Auxerre, I have been getting forwards in
two different journey together, and with the same dash of the pen - for I have
got entirely out of Auxerre in this journey which I am writing now, and I am got
half way out of Auxerre in that which I shall write hereafter -- There is but a
certain degree of perfection in every thing; 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 marketplace of Auxerre with
my father and my uncle Toby, in our way back to dinner - and I am this moment
also entering Lyons with my post-chaise broke into a thousand pieces - and I am
moreover this moment in a handsome pavillion built by Pringello30, upon the
banks of the Garonne, which Mons. Sligniac has lent me, and where I now sit
rhapsodizing all these affairs.
    -- Let me collect myself, and pursue my journey.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

I am glad of it, said I, settling the account with myself as I walk'd into Lyons
-- 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 Avignon, 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 no body knows me) and cross the plains of
Languedoc, 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 Rhône, with the VIVARES on my right-hand, and DAUPHINY on my
left, scarce seeing the ancient cities of VIENNE, Valence, and Vivieres. What a
flame will it rekindle in the lamp, to snatch a blushing grape from the
Hermitage and Cotê roti, 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 --
    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 Andoüillets 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 choose to sell it?
rejoin'd 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.
    - 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 me
--
    -- Do, my dear Jenny, tell the world for me, how I behaved under one, the
most oppressive of its kind which could befall me as a man, proud, as he ought
to be, of his manhood --
    'Tis enough, said'st thou, coming close up to me, as I stood with my garters
in my hand, reflecting upon what had not pass'd -- 'Tis enough, Tristram, and I
am satisfied, said'st thou, whispering these words in my ear, * ** * * * * ** *
* ** * ** ** *; * ** * * * * ** * -- any other man would have sunk down to the
centre --
    -- Every thing is good for something, quoth I.
    -- I'll go into Wales 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 dutchess, 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.
    -- 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

To those who call vexations, VEXATIONS, as knowing what they are, there could
not be a greater, than to be the best part of a day in Lyons, the most opulent
and flourishing city in France, enriched with the most fragments of antiquity -
and not be able to see it. To be withheld upon any account, must be a vexation;
but to be withheld by a vexation -- must certainly be, what philosophy justly
calls
                                    VEXATION
                                      upon
                                   VEXATION.
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 Lyons 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 Lippius of Basil, in the first place --
    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
every thing 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 other --
    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 China, wrote (not in the Tartarian) but in the Chinese language, and
in the Chinese character too.
    Now I almost know as little of the Chinese language, as I do of the
mechanism of Lippius's clock-work; so, why these should 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.
    When these curiosities are seen, quoth I, half addressing myself to my valet
de place, who stood behind me -- 'twill be no hurt if WE go to the church of St.
Ireneus, and see the pillar to which Christ was tied -- and after that, the
house where Pontius Pilate lived -- 'Twas at the next town, said the valet de
place - at Vienne; 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 Tomb of the two lovers.«
    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 concern'd in it -- 'twill be as well for the reader if I explain
it myself.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

O! There is a sweet æra in the life of man, when, (the brain being tender and
fibrillous, and more like pap than any thing else) -- a story read of two fond
lovers, separated from each other by cruel parents, and by still more cruel
destiny --
Amandus -- He
Amanda -- She --
each ignorant of the other's course,
He -- east
She -- west
Amandus taken captive by the Turks, and carried to the emperor of Morocco's
court, where the princess of Morocco falling in love with him, keeps him twenty
years in prison, for the love of his Amanda --
    She - (Amanda) all the time wandering barefoot, and with dishevell'd hair,
o'er rocks and mountains enquiring for Amandus -- Amandus! Amandus! -- making
every hill and valley to echo back his name --
                               Amandus! Amandus!
at every town and city sitting down forlorn at the gate - Has Amandus! - has my
Amandus 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 ways, to the gate of Lyons their native city, and each in well known
accents calling out aloud,
Is Amandus
Is my Amanda
                                                                    still alive?
they fly into each others arms, and both drop down dead for joy.
    There is a soft æra in every gentle mortal's life, where such a story
affords more pabulum to the brain, than all the Frusts, and Crusts, and Rusts of
antiquity, which travellers can cook up for it.
    -- 'Twas all that stuck on the right side of the cullender in my own, of
what Spon and others, in their accounts of Lyons, had strained into it; and
finding, moreover, in some Itinerary, but in what God knows -- That sacred to
the fidelity of Amandus and Amanda, a tomb was built without the gates, where to
this hour, lovers call'd upon them to attest their truths, -- I never could get
into a scrape of that kind in my life, but this tomb of the lovers would, some
how 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 Lyons - and sometimes
not so much as see even a Lyons-waistcoat, 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 Mecca, and so little short, except in wealth, of the
Santa Casa itself, that some time or other, I would go a pilgrimage (though I
had no other business at Lyons) on purpose to pay it a visit.
    In my list, therefore, of Videnda at Lyons, this, tho' last - was not, you
see, least; 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 Basse Cour,
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 Le Blanc,
for a pleasant voyage down the Rhône -- when I was stopped at the gate --
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

- 'Twas by a poor ass who had just turned in with a couple of large panniers
upon his back, to collect eleemosunary turnip tops and cabbage leaves; and stood
dubious, with his two forefeet 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.
    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, etc. -- I never exchange a
word with them -- nor with the apes, etc. 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 some how or other, they neither of them possess the talents for
conversation -- I can make nothing of a discourse with them, beyond the
proposition, the reply, and rejoinder, 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 dialogue --
    - But with an ass, I can commune for ever.
    Come Honesty! said I, - seeing it was impracticable to pass betwixt him and
the gate -- art thou for coming in, or going out?
    The ass twisted his head round to look up the street --
    Well - replied I - we'll wait a minute for thy driver:
    -- He turned his head thoughtful about, and looked wistfully the opposite
way --
    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.
    He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this discourse went on, and in the
little peevish contentions of nature betwixt hunger and unsavouriness, had dropped
it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and pick'd it up again -- God help thee,
Jack! 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 how an
ass would eat a macaroon -- than of benevolence in giving him one, which
presided in the act.
    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.
    The word was but one half of it pronounced, like the abbess of Andoüillets -
(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.
                                  Out upon it!
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 disasterous direction you can imagine -- so that the
    Out upon it! in my opinion, should have come in here -- but this I leave to
be settled by
 
                                      The
                                   REVIEWERS
                                       of
                                  MY BREECHES.
 
which I have brought over along with me for that purpose.
 

                                 Chap. XXXIII.

When all was set to rights, I came down stairs again into the basse cour with my
valet de place, in order to sally out towards the tomb of the two lovers, &amp;
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.
    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.
    Upon what account? said I. -- 'Tis upon the part of the king, replied the
commissary, heaving up both his shoulders --
    -- My good friend, quoth I -- as sure as I am I - and you are you --
    -- And who are you? said he. -- Don't puzzle me; said I.
 

                                  Chap. XXXIV.

- 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
France nothing but my good-will; for he is a very honest man, and I wish him all
health and pastime in the world --
    Pardonnez moi - replied the commissary, you are indebted to him six livres
four sous, for the next post from hence to St. Fons, in your rout to Avignon -
which being a post royal, you pay double for the horses and postillion -
otherwise 'it would have amounted to no more than three livres, two sous --
    -- But I don't go by land; said I.
    -- You may if you please; replied the commissary --
    Your most obedient servant -- said I, making him a low bow --
    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.
    -- The devil take the serious character of these people! quoth I - (aside)
they understand no more of IRONY than this --
    The comparison was standing close by with his panniers - but something
seal'd up my lips - I could not pronounce the name -
    Sir, said I, collecting myself - it is not my intention to take post --
    - But you may - said he, persisting in his first reply - you may take post
if you choose --
    - And I may take salt to my pickled herring, said I, if I choose --
    - But I do not choose -
    - But you must pay for it, whether you do or no --
    Aye! for the salt; said I (I know) --
    - And for the post too; added he. Defend me; cried I --
    I travel by water - I am going down the Rhône this very afternoon - my
baggage is in the boat - and I have actually paid nine livres for my passage --
    C'est tout egal - 'tis all one; said he.
    Bon Dieu! what, pay for the way I go! and for the way I do not go!
    -- C'est tout egal; replied the commissary --
    -- The devil it is! said I - but I will go to ten thousand Bastiles first --
    O England! England! 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 --
    When the director of Madam Le Blanc's 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 church --
    I go by WATER - said I - and here's another will be for making me pay for
going by OYL.
 

                                  Chap. XXXV.

As 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:
    And so I set off thus --
    -- And pray Mr. commissary, by what law of courtesy is a defenceless
stranger to be used just the reverse from what you use a Frenchman in this
matter?
    By no means; said he.
    Excuse me; said I - for you have begun, Sir, with first tearing off my
breeches - and now you want my pocket --
    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 complain'd --
    As it is --
    -- 'Tis contrary to the law of nature.
    -- 'Tis contrary to reason.
    -- 'Tis contrary to the GOSPEL.
    But not to this - said he - putting a printed paper into my hand.
 
                                  PAR LE ROY.
 
-- -- 'Tis a pithy prolegomenon, quoth I - and so read on - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- -
    -- 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 Paris - 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 Paris to Avignon, etc. 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 REVENUES are not to fall short through your fickleness
--
    -- O by heavens! cried I - if fickleness is taxable in France - we have
nothing to do but make the best peace with you we can -
                           AND SO THE PEACE WAS MADE;
-- And if it is a bad one - as Tristram Shandy laid the corner stone of it -
nobody but Tristram Shandy ought to be hanged.
 

                                  Chap. XXXVI.

Though 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 retire'd 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 their remarks for the future) »my remarks were
stolen« - Never did sorry traveller make such a pother and racket about his
remarks as I did about mine, upon the occasion.
    Heaven! earth! sea! fire! cried I, calling in every thing 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 you? --
    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 Le Blanc! Madam Le Blanc! did you
see any papers of mine? - you maid of the house! run up stairs - François! run
up after her --
    -- 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?
    Sancho Pança, when he lost his ass's FURNITURE, did not exclaim more
bitterly.
 

                                 Chap. XXXVII.

When 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 occur'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, to the chaise-vamper. 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 whole oath into a vacancy in my life, I think it was into that --
* ** * ** * * *, said I - and so my remarks through France, 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 Louis d'Ors - and giving him a post-chaise (by heaven) worth six into
the bargain; had it been to Dodsley, or Becket, 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! - show me to him this moment
François - 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.
 

                                 Chap. XXXVIII.

When we arrived at the chaise-vamper's house, both the house and the shop were
shut up; it was the eighth of September, the nativity of the blessed Virgin
Mary, mother of God -
    -- Tantarra-ra-tan-tivi -- the whole world was going out a May-poling -
frisking here - capering there - no body 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 Maypoles --
    The French women, by the bye, love May-poles, a la folie - that is, as much
as their matins -- give 'em but a May-pole, whether in May, June, July, or
September - 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 France) to send them but plenty of
May-poles --
    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.
    The wife of the chaise-vamper step'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 writing --
    --O Seignieur! cried I - you have got all my remarks upon your head, Madam!
--J'en suis bien mortifiée, said she -- 'tis well, thinks I, they have stuck
there - for could they have gone deeper, they would have made such confusion in
a French woman's noddle - She had better have gone with it unfrizled, to the day
of eternity.
    Tenez - 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 -- ay! by my faith; and when they are
published, quoth I, --
    They will be worse twisted still.
 

                                  Chap. XXXIX.

And now for Lippius's clock! said I, with the air of a man, who had got thro'
all his difficulties -- nothing can prevent us seeing that, and the Chinese
history, etc. except the time, said François - for 'tis almost eleven - then we
must speed the faster, said I, striding it away to the cathedral.
    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 Lippius's 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 Chinese 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 condition --
    -- And so away I posted to the college of the Jesuits.
    Now it is with the project of getting a peep at the history of China in
Chinese 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
cherry-stone 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
well --
    For all the JESUITS had got the cholic - and to that degree, as never was
known in the memory of the oldest practitioner.
 

                                   Chap. XL.

As I knew the geography of the Tomb of the Lovers, as well as if I had lived
twenty years in Lyons, namely, that it was upon the turning of my right hand,
just without the gate, leading to the Fauxbourg de Vaise -- I dispatch'd
François 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 me --
    - Tender and faithful spirits! cried I, addressing myself to Amandus and
Amanda - long - long have I tarried to drop this tear upon your tomb -- I come
-- I come --
    When I came - there was no tomb to drop it upon.
    What would I have given for my uncle Toby to have whistled, Lillo bullero!
 

                                   Chap. XLI.

No matter how, or in what mood - but I flew from the tomb of the lovers - or
rather I did not fly from it - (for there was no such thing existing) and just
got time enough to the boat to save my passage; - and e'er I had sailed a
hundred yards, the Rhône and the Saôn met together, and carried me down merrily
betwixt them.
    But I have described this voyage down the Rhône, before I made it --
    So now I am at Avignon - and as there is nothing to see but the old house,
in which the duke of Ormond 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 François 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, least peradventure we should run away with his cattle. Had
you seen my breeches in entering Avignon, -- 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.
    Before I go further, let me get rid of my remark upon Avignon, 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 Avignon, -- that he should therefore
say, »Avignon is more subject to high winds than any town in all France:« for
which reason I laid no stress upon the accident till I had inquired of the
master of the inn about it, who telling me seriously it was so -- and hearing
moreover, the windyness of Avignon 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 Avignon -- so that there is scarce any talking to them, on
a windy day.
    Prithee friend, said I, take hold of my mule for a moment -- for 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 my boot: - when I had finished the affair, I turned about to take the mule
from the man, and thank him --
    -- But Monsieur le Marquis had walked in --
 

                                  Chap. XLII.

I had now the whole south of France, from the banks of the Rhône to those of the
Garonne to traverse upon my mule at my own leisure - at my own leisure -- for I
had left Death, the lord knows -- and He only - how far behind me -- »I have
followed many a man thro' France, quoth he - but never at this mettlesome rate«
-- Still he followed, -- and still I fled him -- but I fled him cheerfully --
still he pursued - but like one who pursued his prey without hope -- as he
lag'd, every step he lost, softened his looks -- why should I fly him at this
rate?
    So notwithstanding all the commissary of the post-office had said, I changed
the mode 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 Languedoc upon his back, as slowly as foot
could fall.
    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, etc .... 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.
    - This is most terrible work; judge if I don't manage my plains better.
 

                                  Chap. XLIII.

I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun, began
to look at his priming.
    I had three several times loiter'd terribly behind; half a mile at least
every time: once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, who was making drums for
the fairs of Baucaira and Tarascone - I did not understand the principles --
    The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd -- for meeting a couple
of Franciscans straiten'd 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 them --
    The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand basket of
Provence 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 enough for my money --
    - 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 do --
    - 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 Toby's 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
 
                                 PLAIN STORIES.
 
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 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, fryars - not passing by a woman in a
mulberry-tree with out 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 plain
into a city - 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
Pall Mall or St. James's Street for a month together, with fewer adventures -
and seen less of human nature.
    O! there is that sprightly frankness which at once unpins every plait of a
Languedocian's 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.
    'Twas in the road betwixt Nismes and Lunel, where there is the best Muscatto
wine in all France, and which by the bye belongs to the honest canons of
MONTPELLIER - and foul befall the man who has drank it at their table, who
grudges them a drop of it.
    -- 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 Boogar, and all the saints at the backside of the door of purgatory,
said he - (making the same resolution with the abbesse of Andoüillets) 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.
    A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the group to meet me as I
advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chestnut, approaching rather to
a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a single tress.
    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.
    Hadst thou, Nannette, been array'd like a dutchesse!
    -- But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!
    Nannette cared not for it.
    We could not have done without you, said she, letting go one hand, with
self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.
    A lame youth, whom Apollo had recompenced 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 Nannette, 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.
    The youth struck the note upon the tabourin - his pipe followed, and off we
bounded -- »the duce take that slit!«
    The sister of the youth who had stolen her voice from heaven, sung
alternately with her brother -- 'twas a Gascoigne roundelay.
                                 VIVA LA JOIA!
                              FIDON LA TRISTESSA!
The nymphs join'd in unison, and their swains an octave below them --
    I would have given a crown to have it sew'd up - Nannette would not have
given a sous - Viva la joia! was in her lips- Viva la joia! 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 prayers, and go to heaven with this nut brown maid?
capriciously did she bend her head on one side, and dance up insiduous -- Then
'tis time to dance off, quoth I; so changing only partners and tunes, I danced
it away from Lunel to Montpellier -- from thence to Pesçnas, Beziers -- I danced
it along through Narbonne, Carcasson, and Castle Naudairy, till at last I danced
myself into Perdrillo's pavillion, where pulling a paper of black lines, that I
might go on straight forwards, without digression or parenthesis, in my uncle
Toby's amours --
    I begun thus --
 
                           End of the Seventh Volume.
 

                                  Volume VIII.

                                    Chap. I.

- But 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 straight lines
31 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 cooly, 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 Freezeland, Fogland and some other
lands I wot of - it may be done --
    But in this clear climate of fantasy and perspiration, where every idea,
sensible and insensible, gets vent - in this land, my dear Eugenius - in this
fertile land of chivalry and romance, where I now sit, unskrewing my ink-horn to
write my uncle Toby's amours, and with all the meanders of JULIA'S track in
quest of her DIEGO, in full view of my study window - if thou comest not and
takest me by the hand --
    What a work is it likely to turn out!
    Let us begin it.
 

                                   Chap. II.

It is with LOVE as with CUCKOLDOM --
    -- 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 COMPARISON may be imparted to him
any hour in the day) -- I'll just mention it, and begin in good earnest.
    The thing is this.
    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.
    '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, etc. only to observe how
one sentence of mine follows another, and how the plan follows the whole.
    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 me --
    I believe in my conscience I intercept many a thought which heaven intended
for another man.
    Pope and his Portrait32 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
 
Zeal or Anger --or
Anger or Zeal --
 
And till gods and men agree together to call it by the same name --the errantest
TARTUFFE, 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.
 

                                   Chap. III.

- Bon jour! -- 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. -- What a
devil of an apothecary! to take so much blood - give such a vile purge - puke -
poultice - plaster - night - draught - glister - blister? -- And why so many
grains of calomel? santa Maria! and such a dose of opium! periclitating, pardi!
the whole family of ye, from head to tail -- By my great aunt Dinah's old black
velvet mask! I think there was no occasion for it.
    Now this being a little bald about the chin, by frequently putting off and
on, before she was got with child by the coach-man - not one of our family would
wear it after. To cover the MASK 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 all --
    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
Welch judge, some three or four aldermen, and a single mountebank --
    In the sixteenth century, we boast of no less than a dozen alchymists.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

»It is with Love as with Cuckoldom« -- the suffering party is at least the
third, but generally the last in the house who knows any thing 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 Love - may be
Hatred, in that -- Sentiment half a yard higher -- and Nonsense -- no Madam, -
not there -- I mean at the part I am now pointing to with my forefinger -- how
can we help ourselves?
    Of all mortal, and immortal men too, if you please, who ever soliloquized
upon this mystic subject, my uncle Toby 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
Bridget's pre-notification of them to Susannah, and Susannah's repeated
manifesto's thereupon to all the world, made it necessary for my uncle Toby to
look into the affair.
 

                                    Chap. V.

Why weavers, gardeners, and gladiators - or a man with a pined leg (proceeding
from some ailment in the foot) - should ever have had some tender nymph breaking
her heart in secret for them, are points well and duely settled and accounted
for, by ancient and modern physiologists.
    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 Jenny's -«
    -- The proposition does not strike one; on the contrary, it seems to run
opposite to the natural workings of causes and effects --
    But it shows the weakness and imbecility of human reason.
    -- »And in perfect good health with it?«
    - The most perfect - Madam, that friendship herself could wish me --
    - »And drink nothing! - nothing but water?«
    - Impetuous fluid! the moment thou presses against the floodgates of the
brain -- see how they give away! --
    In swims CURIOSITY, beckoning to her damsels to follow - they dive into the
centre of the current --
    FANCY sits musing upon the bank, and with her eyes following the stream,
turns straws and bulrushes into masts and bowsprits - And DESIRE, with vest held
up to the knee in one hand, snatches at them, as they swim by her, with the
other --
    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 - be-powdering their ribs - be-peppering their noses, and
changing sometimes even the very frame and face of nature --
    - If I was you, quoth Yorick, I would drink more water, Eugenius. - And, if
I was you, Yorick, replied Eugenius, so would I.
    Which shows they had both read Longinus --
    For my own part, I am resolved never to read any book but my own, as long as
I live.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

I wish my uncle Toby had been a water-drinker; for then the thing had been
accounted for, That the first moment Widow Wadman saw him, she felt something
stirring within her in his favour - Something! - something.
    - Something perhaps more than friendship - less than love - something - no
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 secret --
    But the truth is, my uncle Toby 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 Toby drank it for quietness sake.
    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 Toby, 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 Toby's
leg -- but that will avail us little in the present hypothesis, unless it had
proceeded from some ailment in the foot - whereas his leg was not emaciated from
any disorder in his foot - for my uncle Toby's 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.
    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, Tristram, not sufficient, but thou must entangle thyself still more?
    Is it not enough that thou art in debt, and that thou hast ten cartloads of
thy fifth and sixth volumes still - still unsold, and art almost at thy wit's
ends, how to get them off thy hands.
    To this hour art thou not tormented with the vile asthma thou gattest in
skating against the wind in Flanders? and is it but two months ago, that in a
fit of laughter, on seeing a 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 gallon? --
 

                                   Chap. VII.

- But 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 some how or other, you have got me
thrust almost into the middle of it -
    - I beg we may take more care.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

My uncle Toby 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 pick-axe, or a shovel -
    - It was a bed to lie on: so that as Shandy Hall was at that time
unfurnished; and the little inn where poor Le Fever died, not yet built; my
uncle Toby was constrained to accept of a bed at Mrs. Wadman's, for a night or
two, till corporal Trim (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 Toby's house.
    A daughter of Eve, for such was Widow Wadman, and 'tis all the character I
intend to give of her -
    -»That she was a perfect woman;«
had better be fifty leagues off - or hi her warm bed - or playing with a
case-knife - or any thing you please - than make a man the object of her
attention, when the house and all the furniture is her own.
    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 chattels along with him -- till by reiterated acts of such
combinations, he gets foisted into her inventory --
    - And then good night.
    But this is not matter of System: for I have delivered that above -- nor is
it matter of BREVIARY -- for I make no man's creed but my own -- nor matter of
FACT -- at least that I know of; but 'tis matter copulative and introductory to
what follows.
 

                                   Chap. IX.

I Do 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 any thing 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?
    Widow Wadman's night-shifts (as was the mode I suppose in King William's and
Queen Anne's reigns) were cut however after this fashion; and if the fashion is
changed, (for in Italy they are come to nothing) -- so much the worse for the
public; they were two Flemish 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.
    Now from one little indulgence gain'd 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. Wadman was put to bed, and
had got her legs stretched down to the bottom of it, of which she always gave
Bridget notice - Bridget with all suitable decorum, having first open'd the
bed-clothes at the feet, took hold of the half ell of cloath 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, pin'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.
    This was constant, and without any other variation than this; that on
shivering and tempestuous nights, when Bridget untuck'd the feet of the bed,
etc. to do this -- she consulted no thermometer but that of her own passions;
and so performed it 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 etiquette was sacred, and might
have vied with the most mechanical one of the most inflexible bed-chamber in
Christendom.
    The first night, as soon as the corporal had conducted my uncle Toby up
stairs, which was about ten -- Mrs. Wadman 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.
    The second night she went to her bureau, and having ordered Bridget 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 Toby's stay) when Bridget had pull'd down the
nightshift, and was assaying to stick in the corking pin --
    -- 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 meridian, it was a northeast kick -- she kick'd the pin out of
her fingers -- the etiquette which hung upon it, down - down it fell to the
ground, and was shivered into a thousand atoms.
    From all which it was plain that widow Wadman was in love with my uncle
Toby.
 

                                    Chap. X.

My uncle Toby's head at that time was full of other matters, so that it was not
till the demolition of Dunkirk, when all the other civilities of Europe were
settled, that he found leisure to return this.
    This made an armistice (that is speaking with regard to my uncle Toby - but
with respect to Mrs. Wadman, 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 choose for that reason to call these the
amours of my uncle Toby with Mrs. Wadman, rather than the amours of Mrs. Wadman
with my uncle Toby.
    This is not a distinction without a difference.
    It is not like the affair of an old hat cock'd -- and a cock'd old hat,
about which your reverences have so often been at odds with one another -- but
there is a difference here in the nature of things --
    And let me tell you, gentry, a wide one too.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

Now as widow Wadman did love my uncle Toby -- and my uncle Toby did not love
widow Wadman, there was nothing for widow Wadman to do but to go on and love my
uncle Toby -- or let it alone.
    Widow Wadman would do neither the one or the other --
    -- 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 no --
    -- Curse on her! and so I send her to Tartary, and from Tartary to Terra del
Fuogo, and so on to the devil: in short there is not an infernal nitch where I
do not take her divinityship and stick it.
    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 milky-way --
    Brightest of stars! thou wilt shed thy influence upon some one --
    -- 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!
    -- 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)
    -- No; I shall never have a finger in the pye (so here I break my metaphor)
--
    Crust and crumb
    Inside and out
    Top and bottom -- I detest it, I hate it, I repudiate it -- I'm sick at the
sight of it --
    'Tis all pepper,
        garlick,
        staragen,
        salt, and
        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 --
    -- O Tristram! Tristram! cried Jenny.
    O Jenny! Jenny! replied I, and so went on with the twelfth chapter.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

- »Not touch it for the world« did I say --
    Lord, how I have heated my imagination with this metaphor!
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

Which shows, let your reverences and worships say what you will of it (for as
for thinking -- 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
    A gitating
    B ewitching
    C onfounded
    D evilish affairs of life -- the most
    E xtravagant
    F utilitous
    G alligaskinish
    H andy-dandyish
    I racundulous (there is no K to it) and
    L yrical of all human passions: at the same time, the most
    M isgiving
    N innyhammering
    O bstipating
    P ragmatical
    S tridulous
    R idiculous - though by the bye the R should have gone first - But in short
'tis of such a nature, as my father once told my uncle Toby upon the close of a
long dissertation upon the subject -- »You can scarce,« said he, »combine two
ideas together upon it, brother Toby, without an hypallage« -- What's that?
cried my uncle Toby.
    The cart before the horse, replied my father --
    -- And what has he to do there? cried my uncle Toby --
    Nothing, quoth my father, but to get in -- or let it alone.
    Now widow Wadman, as I told you before, would do neither the one or the
other.
    She stood however ready harnessed and caparisoned at all points to watch
accidents.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

The Fates, who certainly all foreknew of these amours of widow Wadman and my
uncle Toby, 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 Toby to have dwelt in any other house in the world, or to have
occupied any other garden in Christendom, but the very house and garden which
join'd and laid parallel to Mrs. Wadman's; this, with the advantage of a
thickset arbour in Mrs. Wadman's garden, but planted in the hedge-row of my
uncle Toby's, put all the occasions into her hands which Love-militancy wanted;
she could observe my uncle Toby's 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 Bridget, 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 the attack, and
endeavour to blow my uncle Toby up in the very sentry-box itself.
 

                                   Chap. XV.

It 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 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.
    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 gut --
    -- I beseech you, doctor Slop, quoth my uncle Toby, interrupting him as he
mentioned the blind gut, in a discourse with my father the night my mother was
brought to bed of me -- I beseech you, quoth my uncle Toby, 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.
    The blind gut, answered doctor Slop, lies betwixt the Illion and Colon --
    -- In a man? said my father.
    -- 'Tis precisely the same, cried doctor Slop, in a woman --
    That's more than I know, quoth my father.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

- And so to make sure of both systems, Mrs. Wadman predetermined to light my
uncle Toby neither at this end or that; but like a prodigal's candle, to light
him, if possible, at both ends at once.
    Now, through all the lumber rooms of military furniture, including both of
horse and foot, from the great arsenal of Venice to the Tower of London
(exclusive) if Mrs. Wadman had been rummaging for seven years together, and with
Bridget to help her, she could not have found any one blind or mantelet so fit
for her purpose, as that which the expediency of my uncle Toby's affairs had
fix'd up ready to her hands.
    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 Toby
always took care on the inside of his sentry-box, which was 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,
etc. ... as occasions required; so that when an attack was resolved upon, Mrs.
Wadman 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 outstretched neck meeting it half way, - to advance it towards her; on
which my uncle Toby's 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.
    When the attack was advanced to this point; -- the world will naturally
enter into the reasons of Mrs. Wadman's next stroke of generalship -- which was,
to take my uncle Toby's 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 breast-work in the map, she would effect before my
uncle Toby (poor soul!) had well march'd above half a dozen toises with it.
    - It obliged my uncle Toby to make use of his forefinger.
    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
Toby's tobacco-pipe, she might have travelled with it, along the lines, from Dan
to Beersheba, had my uncle Toby's 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 smoak.
    Whereas, in following my uncle Toby's forefinger with hers, close thro' all
the little turns and indentings of his works -- pressing sometimes against the
side of it -- then treading upon it's nail -- then tripping it up -- then
touching it here -- then there, and so on -- it set something at least in
motion.
    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 Toby, in the simplicity of his soul,
would lay his hand flat upon it, in order to go on with his explanation; and
Mrs. Wadman, by a manoeuvre as quick as thought, would as certainly place her's
close besides it; this at once opened a communication, 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 for --
    By bringing up her forefinger parallel (as before) to my uncle Toby's -- 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 Toby!
was never now in its right place -- Mrs. Wadman 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.
    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 Toby being thus attacked and
sore push'd on both his wings - was it a wonder, if now and then, it put his
centre into disorder? --
    -- The duce take it! said my uncle Toby.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

These attacks of Mrs. Wadman, 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
Bouchain in perfect preservation (and shall be kept so, whilst I have power to
preserve any thing) 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. Wadman's; for the opposite
side of the margin, which I suppose to have been my uncle Toby's, 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 sentry-box --
    By all that is priestly! I value this precious relick, with it's stigmata
and pricks, more than all the relicks of the Romish church -- always excepting,
when I am writing upon these matters, the pricks which enter'd the flesh of St.
Radagunda in the desert, which in your road from FESSE to CLUNY, the nuns of
that name will show you for love.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

I Think, an' please your honour, quoth Trim, the fortifications are quite
destroyed -- and the basin is upon a level with the mole -- I think so too;
replied my uncle Toby with a sigh half suppress'd -- but step into the parlour,
Trim, for the stipulation -- it lies upon the table.
    It has lain there these six weeks, replied the corporal, till this very
morning that the old woman kindled the fire with it -
    -- Then, said my uncle Toby, 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 pick-axe, 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, forbade him.
    -- 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 Toby's feet, and began as follows.
 

                                   Chap. XIX.

It 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 soldier --
    A soldier, cried my uncle Toby, interrupting the corporal, is no more exempt
from saying a foolish thing, Trim, than a man of letters -- But not so often;
an' please your honour, replied the corporal -- My uncle Toby gave a nod.
    It was a thousand pities then, said the corporal, casting his eye upon
Dunkirk, and the mole, as Servius Sulpicius, in returning out of Asia (when he
sailed from Ægina towards Megara) did upon Corinth and Pyreus --
    - »It was a thousand pities, an' please your honour, to destroy these works
-- and a thousand pities to have let them stood.« -
    -- Thou art right, Trim, in both cases: said my uncle Toby -- 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 pass'd done deeds, or told your honour one story good or bad
--
    -- Thou hast many excellencies, Trim, said my uncle Toby, and I hold it not
the least of them, as thou happenest to be a storyteller, 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 one --
    -- Because, an' please your honour, except one of a King of Bohemia and his
seven castles, - they are all true; for they are about myself --
    I do not like the subject the worse, Trim, said my uncle Toby, on that
score: But prithee what is this story? thou hast excited my curiosity.
    I'll tell it your honour, quoth the corporal, directly - Provided, said my
uncle Toby, looking earnestly towards Dunkirk and the mole again -- provided it
is not a merry one; to such, Trim, 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, Trim, 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 Toby
-- 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
Toby, so prithee begin it, Trim.
    The corporal made his reverence; and though it is not so easy a matter as
the world imagines, to pull off a lank Montero-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 palm of his right hand, which was towards his master, to slip backward 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 kinness with him, and set off thus.
 
            The Story of the king of Bohemia and his seven castles.
 
There was a certain king of Bo-he--
    As the corporal was entering the confines of Bohemia, my uncle Toby obliged
him to halt for a single moment; he had set out bareheaded, having since he
pull'd off his Montero-cap in the latter end of the last chapter, left it lying
beside him on the ground.
    -- 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 Toby twice
touch'd his Montero-cap with the end of his cane, interrogatively -- as much as
to say, Why don't you put it on, Trim? Trim took it up with 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
betwixt his two feet, in order to moralize upon the subject.
    -- 'Tis every word of it but too true, cried my uncle Toby, that thou art
about to observe --
    »Nothing in this world, Trim, is made to last for ever.«
    -- But when tokens, dear Tom, of thy love and remembrance wear out, said
Trim, what shall we say?
    There is no occasion, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, to say any thing else; and
was a man to puzzle his brains till Doom's day, I believe, Trim, it would be
impossible.
    The corporal perceiving my uncle Toby 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 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 Bohemia and his seven castles.
 
       The Story of the king of Bohemia and his seven castles, continued.
 
There was a certain king of Bohemia, but in whose reign, except his own, I am
not able to inform your honour --
    I do not desire it of thee, Trim, by any means, cried my uncle Toby.
    -- 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 was --
    -- I would not give a half-penny to know, said my uncle Toby.
    -- Only, an' please your honour, it makes a story look the better in the
face --
    -- 'Tis thy own, Trim, so ornament it after thy own fashion; and take any
date, continued my uncle Toby, looking pleasantly upon him - take any date in
the whole world thou choosest, and put it to - thou art heartily welcome --
    The corporal bowed; for of every century, and of every year of that century,
from the first creation of the world down to Noah's flood; and from Noah's flood
to the birth of Abraham; through all the pilgrimages of the patriarchs, to the
departure of the Israelities out of Egypt -- and throughout all the Dynasties,
Olympiads, Urbecondita's, 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 Toby subjected this
vast empire of time and all its abysses at his feet; but as MODESTY scarce
touches with a finger what LIBERALITY offers her with both hands open - the
corporal contented himself with the very worst year 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 of --
    -- It was the year next him -- which being the year of our Lord seventeen
hundred and twelve, when the duke of Ormond was playing the devil in Flanders --
the corporal took it, and set out with it afresh on his expedition to Bohemia.
 
       The Story of the king of Bohemia and his seven castles, continued.
 
In the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and twelve, there was, an'
please your honour --
    -- To tell thee truly, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, 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
Quesnoi, though Fagel was carrying on the works with such incredible vigour -
but likewise on the score, Trim, of thy own story; because if there are - and
which, from what thou hast dropped, I partly suspect to be the fact - if there are
giants in it --
    There is but one, an' please your honour --
    -- 'Tis as bad as twenty, replied my uncle Toby -- thou should'st have
carried him back some seven or eight hundred years out of harm's way, both of
criticks and other people; and therefore I would advise thee, if ever thou
tellest it again --
    -- If I live, an' please your honour, but once to get through it, I will
never tell it again, quoth Trim, either to man, woman, or child -- Poo - poo!
said my uncle Toby - but with accents of such sweet encouragement did he utter
it, that the corporal went on with his story with more alacrity than ever.
 
       The Story of the king of Bohemia and his seven castles, continued.
 
There 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 Bohemia --
    -- Leave out the date entirely, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, leaning forwards,
and laying his hand gently upon the corporal's shoulder to temper the
interruption - leave it out entirely, Trim; a story passes very well without
these niceties, unless one is pretty sure of 'em -- Sure of 'em! said the
corporal, shaking his head -
    Right; answered my uncle Toby, it is not easy, Trim, 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 manner of my uncle
Toby's reasoning, as much as by the reasoning itself, he 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 any thing at all of
geography?
    -- Thou would'st have said chronology, Trim, said my uncle Toby; 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, Trim, 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.
    Is it else to be conceived, corporal, continued my uncle Toby, rising up in
his sentry-box, as he began to warm in this part of his discourse - how
Marlborough could have marched his army from the banks of the Maes to Belburg;
from Belburg to Kerpenord - (here the corporal could sit no longer) from
Kerpenord, Trim, to Kalsaken; from Kalsaken to Newdorf; from Newdorf to
Landenbourg; from Landenbourg to Mildenheim; from Mildenheim to Elchingen; from
Elchingen to Gingen; from Gingen to Balmerchoffen; from Balmerchoffen to
Skellenburg, where he broke in upon the enemy's works; forced his passage over
the Danube; cross'd the Lech - pushed on his troops into the heart of the
empire, marching at the head of them through Friburg, Hokenwert, and Schonevelt,
to the plains of Blenheim and Hochstet? -- Great as he was, corporal, he could
not have advanced a step, or made one single day's march without the aids of
Geography -- As for Chronology, I own, Trim, continued my uncle Toby, sitting
down again coolly in his sentry-box, that of all others, it seems a science
which the soldier might 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 every thing 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.
    I am far from controverting, continued my uncle Toby, what historians agree
in, that in the year of our Lord 1380, under the reign of Wencelaus, son of
Charles the fourth -- a certain priest, whose name was Schwartz, show'd the use
of powder to the Venetians, in their wars against the Genoese; but 'tis certain
he was not the first; because if we are to believe Don Pedro the bishop of Leon
- How came priests and bishops, an' please your honour, to trouble their heads
so much about gun-powder? God knows, said my uncle Toby -- his providence brings
good out of every thing - and he avers, in his chronicle of King Alphonsus, who
reduced Toledo, 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 Spain and Barbary - And all the world
knows, that Friar Bacon 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
Schwartz was born - And that the Chinese, added my uncle Toby, embarass us, and
all accounts of it still more, by boasting of the invention some hundreds of
years even before him --
    - They are a pack of liars, I believe, cried Trim -
    - They are some how or other deceived, said my uncle Toby, in this matter,
as to plain to me from the present miserable state of military architecture
amongst them; which consists of nothing more than a fossè with a brick wall
without flanks - and for what they give 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 Trim.
    My uncle Toby, tho' in the utmost distress for a comparison, most
courteously refused Trim's offer - till Trim telling him, he had half a dozen in
Bohemia, which he knew not how to get off his hands -- my uncle Toby was so
touch'd with the 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 Bohemia and his seven castles.
 
       The Story of the king of Bohemia and his seven castles, continued.
 
This unfortunate King of Bohemia, said Trim -- Was he unfortunate then? cried my
uncle Toby, for he had been so wrapt up in his dissertation upon gun- 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 unfortunate then, Trim? said my uncle Toby,
pathetically -- The corporal, wishing first the word and all its synonimas at
the devil, forthwith began to run back in his mind, the principal events in the
King of Bohemia's 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 Toby's face for assistance -- but seeing it was the very
thing, my uncle Toby sat in expectation of himself -- after a hum and a haw, he
went on --
    The King of Bohemia, an' please your honour, replied the corporal, was
unfortunate, as thus -- That taking great pleasure and delight in navigation and
all sort of sea-affairs -- and there happening throughout the whole kingdom of
Bohemia, to be no sea-port town whatever --
    How the duce should there - Trim? cried my uncle Toby; for Bohemia being
totally inland, it could have happen'd no otherwise -- It might; said Trim, if
it had pleased God --
    My uncle Toby never spoke of the being and natural attributes of God, but
with diffidence and hesitation --
    -- I believe not, replied my uncle Toby, after some pause -- for being
inland, as I said, and having Silesia and Moravia to the east; Lusatia and Upper
Saxony to the north; Franconia to the west; and Bavaria to the south: Bohemia
could not have been propell'd to the sea, without ceasing to be Bohemia -- nor
could the sea, on the other hand, have come up to Bohemia, without overflowing a
great part of Germany, and destroying millions of unfortunate inhabitants who
could make no defence against it -- Scandalous! cried Trim - Which would
bespeak, added my uncle Toby, mildly, such a want of compassion in Him who is
the Father of it -- that, I think, Trim -- the thing could have happen'd no way.
    The corporal made the bow of unfeigned conviction; and went on.
    Now the King of Bohemia with his queen and courtiers happening one fine
summer's evening to walk out -- Aye! there the word happening is right, Trim,
cried my uncle Toby; for the King of Bohemia 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.
    King William was of an opinion, an' please your honour, quoth Trim, that
every thing was predestined for us in this world; insomuch that he would often
say to his soldiers, that »every ball had it's billet.« He was a great man, said
my uncle Toby -- And I believe, continued Trim, to this day, that the shot which
disabled me at the battle of Landen, 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, Trim,
be construed otherwise, said my uncle Toby.
    The heart, both of the master and the man, were alike subject to sudden
overflowings; -- a short silence ensued.
    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 love --
    So, thou wast once in love, Trim! said my uncle Toby, smiling -
    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 Toby: -- I dare say, answered Trim, that every drummer
and sergeant's son in the regiment knew of it -- Its high time I should -- said
my uncle Toby.
    Your honour remembers with concern, said the corporal, the total rout and
confusion of our camp and army at the affair of Landen; every one was left to
shift for himself; and if it had not been for the regiments of Wyndham, Lumley,
and Galway, which covered the retreat over the bridge of Neerspeeken, the king
himself could scarce have gain'd it -- he was press'd hard, as your honour
knows, on every side of him --
    Gallant mortal! cried my uncle Toby, caught up with enthusiasm - this
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 Luxembourg's brows, if yet 'tis possible -- I
see him with the knot of his scarfe just shot off, infusing fresh spirits into
poor Galway's regiment - riding along the line - then wheeling about, and
charging Conti at the head of it -- Brave! brave by heaven! cried my uncle Toby
- he deserves a crown -- As richly, as a thief a halter; shouted Trim.
    My uncle Toby 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.
    As the number of wounded was prodigious, and no one had time to think of any
thing, but his own safety - Though Talmash, said my uncle Toby, 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 Toby -- 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.
    There is no part of the body, an' please your honour, where a wound
occasions more intolerable anguish than upon the knee --
    Except the groin; said my uncle Toby. 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.
    It is for that reason, quoth my uncle Toby, 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 do'st) -- about it -- but moreover * *
* --
    Mrs. Wadman, 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 leg --
    The dispute was maintained with amicable and equal force betwixt my uncle
Toby and Trim for some time; till Trim 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 Toby would not allow -- 'Tis a proof of
nothing, Trim, said he, but the generosity of thy temper --
    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
    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.
 

                                   Chap. XX.

The 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 Toby) all together, an' please your honour,
was more than I could sustain.
    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.
    I thought love had been a joyous thing, quoth my uncle Toby.
    'Tis the most serious thing, an' please your honour (sometimes) that is in
the world.
    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.
    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 Tom
(here Trim wip'd his eyes) had sent me as a token, by a recruit, just before he
set out for Lisbon --
    -- I never told your honour that piteous story yet -- here Trim wiped his
eyes a third time.
    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.
    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.
    She was in black down to her toes, with her hair conceal'd under a cambrick
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
Flanders which they let go loose -- By thy description, Trim, said my uncle
Toby, I dare say she was a young Beguine, of which there are none to be found
any where but in the Spanish Netherlands - except at Amsterdam -- 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.
    -- She often told me, quoth Trim, she did it for the love of Christ - I did
not like it. -- I believe, Trim, we are both wrong, said my uncle Toby - we'll
ask Mr. Yorick about it to-night at my brother Shandy's -- so put me in mind;
added my uncle Toby.
    The young Beguine, 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, etc. etc. and having
fomented my knee soundly for a couple of hours, etc. and made me a thin basin of
gruel for my supper - she wish'd me rest, and promised to be with me early in
the morning. -- She wish'd 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 Beguine, like an angel,
close by my bedside, holding back my curtain and offering me cordials - and I
was only awakened from my dream by her 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 world) --
    -- »It was not love« -- 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 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * once.
    That was very odd, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby --
    I think so too - said Mrs. Wadman.
    It never did, said the corporal.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

- But 'tis no marvel, continued the corporal - seeing my uncle Toby 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' Saturday-night, - may
nevertheless be shot through his heart on Sunday morning -- It happened so here,
an' please your honour, with this difference only - that it was on Sunday 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.«
    I thought, Trim, said my uncle Toby, a man never fell in love so very
suddenly.
    Yes, an' please your honour, if he is in the way of it -- replied Trim.
    I prithee, quoth my uncle Toby, inform me how this matter happened.
    -- With all pleasure, said the corporal, making a bow.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

I Had 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.
    It was on a Sunday, in the afternoon, as I told your honour --
    The old man and his wife had walked out --
    Every thing was still and hush as midnight about the house --
    There was not so much as a duck or a duckling about the yard --
    -- When the fair Beguine came in to see me.
    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.
    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 Beguine; so covering it with the bed clothes, she began with the
forefinger of her right-hand to rub under my knee, guiding her fore-finger
backwards and forwards by the edge of the flannel which kept on the dressing.
    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, an'
please your honour, behold another hand so white whilst I live --
    -- Not in that place: said my uncle Toby --
    Though it was the most serious affair in nature to the corporal - he could
not forbear smiling.
    The young Beguine, 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 satin --
    -- Prithee, Trim, commend it as much as thou wilt, said my uncle Toby; I
shall hear thy story with the more delight -- The corporal thank'd his master
most unfeignedly; but having nothing to say upon the Beguine's hand but the same
over again -- he proceeded to the effects of it.
    The fair Beguine, 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
complained of, and rubb'd it also.
    I perceived, then, I was beginning to be in love --
    As she continued rub-rub-rubbing - I felt it spread from under her hand, an'
please your honour, to every part of my frame --
    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 seize'd her hand --
    -- And then, thou clapped'st it to thy lips, Trim, said my uncle Toby -- and
madest a speech.
    Whether the corporal's amour terminated precisely in the way my uncle Toby
described it, is not material; it is enough that it contain'd in it the essence
of all the love-romances which ever have been wrote since the beginning of the
world.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

As soon as the corporal had finished the story of his amour - or rather my uncle
Toby for him - Mrs. Wadman silently sallied forth from her arbour, replaced the
pin in her mob, pass'd the wicker-gate, and advanced slowly towards my uncle
Toby's sentry-box: the disposition which Trim had made in my uncle Toby's mind,
was too favourable a crisis to be let slipp'd --
    -- The attack was determin'd upon: it was facilitated still more by my uncle
Toby's 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 Dunkirk stood - The corporal had march'd - the field was clear.
    Now consider, Sir, what nonsense it is, either in fighting, or writing, or
any thing 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 Gotham) - it was
certainly the PLAN of Mrs. Wadman's attack of my uncle Toby in his sentry-box,
BY PLAN -- Now the Plan hanging up in it at this juncture, being the Plan of
Dunkirk - and the tale of Dunkirk a tale of relaxation, it opposed every
impression she could make: and besides, could she have gone upon it - the
manoeuvre of fingers and hands in the attack of the sentry-box, was so outdone
by that of the fair Beguine's in Trim's story - that just then, that particular
attack, however successful before - became the most heartless attack that could
be made --
    O! let woman alone for this. Mrs. Wadman had scarce open'd the wicker-gate,
when her genius sported with the change of circumstances.
    -- She formed a new attack in a moment.
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

- I am half distracted, captain Shandy, said Mrs. Wadman, holding up her
cambrick handkerchief to her left eye, as she approach'd the door of my uncle
Toby's 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 white --
    In saying which, Mrs. Wadman edged herself close in beside my uncle Toby,
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.
    Honest soul! thou didst look into it with as much innocency of heart, as
ever child look'd into a raree-show-box; and 'twere as much a sin to have hurt
thee.
    -- If a man will be peeping of his own accord into things of that nature --
I've nothing to say to it --
    My uncle Toby never did: and I will answer for him, that he would have sat
quietly upon a sopha from June to January, (which you know, takes in both the
hot and cold months) with an eye as fine as the Thracian33 Rodope's besides him,
without being able to tell, whether it was a black or a blue one.
    The difficulty was to get my uncle Toby, to look at one, at all.
    'Tis surmounted. And
    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 Gallileo look'd for a spot in the sun.
    -- In vain! for by all the powers which animate the organ -- Widow Wadman's
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 thine --
    -- If thou lookest, uncle Toby, in search of this mote one moment longer --
thou art undone.
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

An 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. Wadman's
eyes (except once in the next period) that you keep it in your fancy.
    I protest, Madam, said my uncle Toby, I can see nothing whatever in your
eye.
    It is not in the white; said Mrs. Wadman: my uncle Toby look'd with might
and main into the pupil --
    Now of all the eyes, which ever were created -- from your own, Madam, up to
those of Venus 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
Toby 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 Toby 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 convers -- but whispering soft -- like the last low
accents of an expiring saint -- »How can you live comfortless, captain Shandy,
and alone, without a bosom to lean your head on -- or trust your cares to?«
    It was an eye --
    But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another word about it.
    -- It did my uncle Toby's business.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

There is nothing shows the characters of my father and my uncle Toby, 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 Toby's have
been, when 'twas all benignity without it.
    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 Philip-picks against the eye that ever man wrote
-- there is one in verse upon some body'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:
 
»A Devil 'tis -- and mischief such doth work
As never yet did Pagan, Jew, or Turk.«34
 
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 Ernulphus -- he was too impetuous; nor with Ernulphus's 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.
    My uncle Toby, 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 dropped 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 smoak, incommoded no one mortal.
    He took it like a lamb -- I say.
    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 the poor35; which said wood being in full view
of my uncle Toby's house, and of singular service to him in his description of
the battle of Wynnendale - by trotting on too hastily to save it -- upon an
uneasy saddle - worse horse, etc. etc ... it had so happened, that the serous
part of the blood had got betwixt the two skins, in the nethermost part of my
uncle Toby -- the first shootings of which (as my uncle Toby 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 Toby was presently convinced,
that his wound was not a skin-deep-wound -- but that it had gone to his heart.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

The world is ashamed of being virtuous -- My uncle Toby knew little of the
world; and therefore when he felt he was in love with Widow Wadman, he had no
conception that the thing was any more to be made a mystery of, than if Mrs.
Wadman, had given him a cut with a gap'd knife across his finger: Had it been
otherwise -- yet as he ever look'd upon Trim 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.
    »I am in love, corporal!« quoth my uncle Toby.
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

In 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 Bohemia -
Bohemia! said my uncle Toby - - - musing a long time - - - What became of that
story, Trim?
    - 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. Wadman, quoth my uncle Toby -- She has left a ball
here - added my uncle Toby - pointing to his breast --
    -- She can no more, an' please your honour, stand a siege, than she can fly
- cried the corporal --
    -- But as we are neighbours, Trim, - the best way I think is to let her know
it civilly first - quoth my uncle Toby.
    Now if I might presume, said the corporal, to differ from your honour --
    - Why else, do I talk to thee Trim: said my uncle Toby, mildly --
    - 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 any thing of your honour's being in love, before hand -- L-d help her! -
she knows no more at present of it, Trim, said my uncle Toby - than the child
unborn --
    Precious souls! -
    Mrs. Wadman had told it with all its circumstances, to Mrs. Bridget
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 affair,
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 te Deum --
    I am terribly afraid, said widow Wadman, in case I should marry him, Bridget
- that the poor captain will not enjoy his health, with the monstrous wound upon
his groin --
    It may not, Madam, be so very large, replied Bridget, as you think -- and I
believe besides, added she - that 'tis dried up --
    -- I could like to know - merely for his sake, said Mrs. Wadman --
    - We'll know the long and the broad of it, in ten days - answered Mrs.
Bridget, for whilst the captain is paying his addresses to you - I'm confident
Mr. Trim will be for making love to me - and I'll let him as much as he will -
added Bridget - to get it all out of him --
    The measures were taken at once -- and my uncle Toby and the corporal went
on with theirs.
    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 attack --
    -- Thou wilt please me by it, Trim, said my uncle Toby, exceedingly - and as
I foresee thou must act in it as my aid de camp, here's a crown, corporal, to
begin with, to steep thy commission.
    Then, an' please your honour, said the corporal (making a bow first for his
commission) - we will begin with getting your honour's laced clothes 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 vour white ramalliewig fresh into pipes - and send
for a tailor, to have your honour's thin scarlet breeches turn'd --
    - I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my uncle Toby -- They will be
too clumsy - said the corporal.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

- Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword --
    'Twill be only in your honour's way, replied Trim.
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

- But your honour's two razors shall be new set - and I will get my Montero-cap
furbish'd up, and put on poor lieutenant Le Fever's 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 every thing 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. Wadman in the parlour, to the right -- I'll attack Mrs.
Bridget in the kitchen, to the left; and having seize'd that pass, I'll answer
for it, said the corporal, snapping his fingers over his head - that the day is
our own.
    I wish I may but manage it right; said my uncle Toby - but I declare,
corporal I had rather march up to the very edge of a trench --
    - A woman is quite a different thing - said the corporal.
    - I suppose so, quoth my uncle Toby.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

If any thing in this world, which my father said, could have provoked my uncle
Toby, during the time he was in love, it was the perverse use my father was
always making of an expression of Hilarion 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 ass (meaning his body) leave off
kicking.«
    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 passions once - but ass 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.
    I must here observe to you, the difference betwixt
        My father's ass
        and my hobby-horse - in order to keep characters
as separate as may be, in our fancies as we go along.
    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 fiddle-stick - an uncle Toby's siege - or an any thing,
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 could do without it --
    -- 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 befall the man, who does not hinder him from kicking.
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

Well! dear brother Toby, said my father, upon his first seeing him after he fell
in love - and how goes it with your Asse?
    Now my uncle Toby thinking more of the part where he had had the blister,
than of Hilarion's 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 Slop,
and Mr. Yorick, were sitting in the 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
choose which he will, the world will blame him - so I should not be astonished
if it blames my uncle Toby.
    My A-e, quoth my uncle Toby, is much better - brother Shandy -- My father
had formed great expectations from his Asse in this onset; and would have
brought him on again; but doctor Slop 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 time --
    And so the discourse went on without him.
    Every body, said my mother, says you are in love, brother Toby - and we hope
it is true.
    I am as much in love, sister, I believe, replied my uncle Toby, as any man
usually is -- Humph! said my father -- and when did you know it? quoth my mother
--
    When the blister broke; replied my uncle Toby.
    My uncle Toby's reply put my father into good temper - so he charged o'foot.
 

                                 Chap. XXXIII.

As the antients agree, brother Toby, said my father, that there are two
different and distinct kinds of love, 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.
    What signifies it, brother Shandy, replied my uncle Toby, which of the two
it is, provided it will but make a man marry, and love his wife, and get a few
children.
    -- 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 Slop's -
a few children! cried my father, repeating my uncle Toby's words as he walk'd to
and fro --
    -- Not, my dear brother Toby, cried my father, recovering himself all at
once, and coming close up to the back of my uncle Toby's chair - not that I
should be sorry had'st thou a score - on the contrary I should rejoice - and be
as kind, Toby, to every one of them as a father -
    My uncle Toby stole his hand unperceived behind his chair, to give my
father's a squeeze --
    -- Nay, moreover, continued he, keeping hold of my uncle Toby's hand - so
much do'st thou possess, my dear Toby, 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 Asiatick monarch, added my father, heating
himself with his new project - I would oblige thee, providing it would not
impair thy strength - or dry up thy radical moisture too fast - or weaken thy
memory or fancy, brother Toby, which these gymnicks inordinately taken, are apt
to do - else, dear Toby, I would procure thee the most beautiful women in my
empire, and I would oblige thee, nolens, volens, to beget for me one subject
every month --
    As my father pronounced the last word of the sentence - my mother took a
pinch of snuff.
    Now I would not, quoth my uncle Toby, get a child, nolens, volens, that is,
whether I would or no, to please the greatest prince upon earth --
    -- And 'it would be cruel in me, brother Toby, to compell 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 in --
    There is at least, said Yorick, a great deal of reason and plain sense in
captain Shandy's 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 much --
    I wish, Yorick, said my father, you had read Plato; for there you would have
learnt that there are two LOVES - I know there were two RELIGIONS, replied
Yorick, amongst the ancients -- one - for the vulgar, and another for the
learned; but I think ONE LOVE might have served both of them very well -
    It could not; replied my father - and for the same reasons: for of these
LOVES, according to Ficinus's comment upon Velasius, the one is rational --
    -- the other is natural --
    the first ancient -- without mother -- where Venus had nothing to do: the
second, begotten of Jupiter and Dione -
    -- Pray brother, quoth my uncle Toby, 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 discourse --
    This latter, continued he, partakes wholly of the nature of Venus.
    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 desire, simply --
    -- I think the procreation of children as beneficial to the world, said
Yorick, as the finding out the longitude --
    -- To be sure, said my mother, love keeps peace in the world -
    -- In the house - my dear, I own -- It replenishes the earth; said my mother
--
    But it keeps heaven empty - my dear; replied my father.
    -- 'Tis Virginity, cried Slop, triumphantly, which fills paradise.
    Well push'd nun! quoth my father.
 

                                  Chap. XXXIV.

My 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.
    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 'it would have been a concern, either to a brave man,
or a good-natured one, to have seen him driven out.
    Yorick, for this reason, though he would often attack him - yet could never
bear to do it with all his force.
    Doctor Slop's VIRGINITY, 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 Christendom about Slop's ears, when corporal Trim came into the
parlour to inform my uncle Toby, that his thin scarlet breeches, in which the
attack was to be made upon Mrs. Wadman, would not do; for, that the tailor, 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 my father, turning himself to the
company, that Widow Wadman has been deeply in love with my brother Toby 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 it's
height --
    -- She has gain'd her point.
    In this case, continued my father, which Plato, I am persuaded, never
thought of -- Love, you see, is not so much a SENTIMENT as a SITUATION, into
which a man enters, as my brother Toby would do, into a corps -- no matter
whether he loves the service or no -- being once in it - he acts as if he did;
and takes every step to show himself a man of prowesse.
    The hypothesis, like the rest of my father's, was plausible enough, and my
uncle Toby had but a single word to object to it - in which Trim stood ready to
second him -- but my father had not drawn his conclusion --
    For this reason, continued my father (stating the case over again)
notwithstanding all the world knows, that Mrs. Wadman affects my brother Toby -
and my brother Toby contrariwise affects Mrs. Wadman, 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.
    We have taken our measures badly, quoth my uncle Toby, looking up
interrogatively in Trim's face.
    I would lay my Montero-cap, said Trim -- Now Trim's Montero-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 Montero-cap to a shilling - was it proper,
continued Trim (making a bow) to offer a wager before your honours --
    -- There is nothing improper in it, said my father - 'tis a mode of
expression; for in saying thou would'st lay thy Montero-cap to a shilling - all
thou meanest is this - that thou believest --
    -- Now, What do'st thou believe?
    That widow Wadman, an' please your worship, cannot hold it out ten days --
    And whence, cried Slop, peeringly, hast thou all this knowledge of woman,
friend?
    By falling in love with a popish clergy-woman; said Trim.
    'Twas a Beguine, said my uncle Toby.
    Doctor Slop was too much in wrath to listen to the distinction; and my
father taking that very crisis to fall in helter-skelter upon the whole order of
Nuns and Beguines, a set of silly, fusty baggages -- Slop could not stand it --
and my uncle Toby having some measures to take about his breeches - and Yorick
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 Toby the following letter of instructions.
 
        My dear brother Toby,
            What 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.
            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. Shandy being now close
        besides 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 Toby, of the manner in which it will be
        accepted.
            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 enterprise, 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.
            Shave the whole top of thy crown clean, once at least every four or
        five days, but oftner 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 Trim.
            - 'Twere better to keep ideas of baldness out of her fancy.
            Always carry it in thy mind, and act upon it, as a sure maxim, Toby
        --
            »That women are timid:« And 'tis well they are -- else there would
        be no dealing with them.
            Let not thy breeches be too tight, or hang too loose about thy
        thighs, like the trunk-hose of our ancestors.
            -- A just medium prevents all conclusions.
            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.
            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 Rabelais, or Scarron, or Don
        Quixote --
            -- They are all books which excite laughter; and thou knows, dear
        Toby, that there is no passion so serious as lust.
            Stick a pin in the bosom of thy shirt, before thou enterest her
        parlour.
            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 will have her curiosity on thy side; and
        if she is not conquer'd by that, and thy Asse 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 Scythians, who cured the most intemperate fits of the
        appetite by that means.
            Avicenna, after this, is for having the part anointed with the
        syrrup 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 water-hens --
            As for thy drink - I need not tell thee, it must be the infusion of
        VERVAIN, and the herb HANEA, of which Ælian 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.
            There is nothing further for thee, which occurs to me at present --
            - Unless the breaking out of a fresh war -- So wishing every thing,
        dear Toby, for the best,
I rest thy affectionate brother,
                                                                  WALTER SHANDY.
 

                                  Chap. XXXV.

Whilst my father was writing his letter of instructions, my uncle Toby and the
corporal were busy in preparing every thing 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
resolve'd upon, for eleven o'clock.
    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 Toby's to -- countenance
him in this attack of his.
    My uncle Toby 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 volume of such a work as this. -- My father had
no time but to put the letter of instructions into my uncle Toby's coat-pocket
-- and join with my mother in wishing his attack prosperous.
    I could like, said my mother, to look through the key-hole out of curiosity
-- Call it by it's right name, my dear, quoth my father -
    And look through the key-hole as long as you will.
 
                           End of the Eighth Volume.
 

                                    Vol. IX.

            Si quid urbaniusculè lusum a nobis, per Musas et Charitas et omnium
            poetarum Numina, Oro te, ne me malè capias.
 

                          A Dedication to a Great Man

Having, a priori, intended to dedicate The Amours of my uncle Toby to Mr. * * *
-- I see more reasons, a posteriori, for doing it to Lord * * * * * * *.
    I should lament from my soul, if this exposed me to the jealousy of their
Reverences; because, a posteriori, in Court-latin, signifies the kissing hands
for preferment - or any thing else - in order to get it.
    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.
    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.
    Nothing is so perfectly amusement 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,
Whose Thoughts proud Science never taught to stray,
Far as the Statesman's walk or Patriot-way;
Yet simple Nature to his hopes had given
Out of a cloud-capp'd head a humbler heaven;
Some untam'd World in depth of woods embraced -
Some happier Island in the watry-waste -
And where admitted to that equal sky,
His faithful Dogs should bear him company.
In a word, by thus introducing an entire new set of objects to his Imagination,
I shall unavoidably give a Diversion to his passionate and love-sick
Contemplations. In the mean time,
I am
                                                                     The AUTHOR.
 

                                    Chap. I.

I Call 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 Toby's amours, till this very moment, that my mother's curiosity, 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.
    »Call it, my dear, by its right name, quoth my father, and look through the
key-hole as long as you will.«
    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.
    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 -- 'it would 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.
    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 August, 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.«
    The mistake of 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.
    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.
    -- which leads me to my uncle Toby's amours.
 

                                   Chap. II.

Though the Corporal had been as good as his word in putting my uncle Toby's
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 SPLEEN given a look at it, 'it would have cost her
ladyship a smile -- it curl'd every where 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.
    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 Toby's, assimulated every
thing around it so sovereignly to itself, and Nature had moreover wrote
GENTLEMAN 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 Toby 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.
    Nothing in this world could have co-operated more powerfully towards this,
than my uncle Toby's blue and gold -- had not Quantity in some measure been
necessary to Grace: in a period of fifteen or sixteen years since they had been
made, by a total inactivity in my uncle Toby's 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, etc. in the mode of
King William's 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 Toby thought of attacking in armour, nothing could have
so well imposed upon his imagination.
    As for the thin scarlet breeches, they had been unripp'd by the tailor
between the legs, and left at sixes and sevens --
    -- 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
Toby's wardrobe, he sallied forth in the red plush.
    The Corporal had array'd himself in poor Le Fever's regimental coat; and
with his hair tuck'd up under his Montero-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
Toby carried his cane like a pike.
    -- It looks well at least; quoth my father to himself.
 

                                   Chap. III.

My uncle Toby 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.
    Now my uncle Toby 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. Wadman, he had never looked steadfastly into one; and would often tell my
father in the simplicity of his heart, that it was almost (if not alout) as bad
as talking bawdy. --
    -- And suppose it is? my father would say.
 

                                   Chap. IV.

She cannot, quoth my uncle Toby, halting, when they had march'd up to within
twenty paces of Mrs. Wadman's door - she cannot, Corporal, take it amiss. --
    -- She will take it, an' please your honour, said the Corporal, just as the
Jew's widow at Lisbon took it of my brother Tom. --
    -- And how was that? quoth my uncle Toby, facing quite about to the
Corporal.
    Your honour, replied the Corporal, knows of Tom's misfortunes; but this
affair has nothing to do with them any further than this, That if Tom 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.
    'Tis very true; said my uncle Toby looking gravely at Mrs. Wadman's house,
as he spoke.
    Nothing, continued the Corporal, can be so sad as confinement for life - or
so sweet, an' please your honour, as liberty.
    Nothing, Trim -- said my uncle Toby, musing --
    Whilst a man is free - cried the corporal, giving a flourish with his stick
thus --
 
A thousand of my father's most subtle syllogisms could not have said more for
celibacy.
    My uncle Toby look'd earnestly towards his cottage and his bowling green.
    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.
 

                                    Chap. V.

As Tom's 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 Jew 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 -- Tom thought (as every body in Lisbon was doing the best he could devise
for himself) there could be no 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 - Tom 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.
    Every servant in the family, from high to low, wish'd Tom 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 cheerful word for every body he
met: -- But alas! Tom! thou smilest no more, cried the Corporal, looking on one
side of him upon the ground, as if he apostrophized him in his dungeon.
    Poor fellow! said my uncle Toby, feelingly.
    He was an honest, light-hearted lad, an' please your honour, as ever blood
warm'd --
    -- Then he resembled thee, Trim, said my uncle Toby, rapidly.
    The Corporal blush'd down to his fingers ends - a tear of sentimental
bashfulness - another of gratitude to my uncle Toby - and a tear of sorrow for
his brother's misfortunes, started into his eye and ran sweetly down his cheek
together; my uncle Toby's kindled as one lamp does at another; and taking hold
of the breast of Trim's coat (which had been that of Le Fever's) 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 Jew's widow.
 

                                   Chap. VI.

When Tom, 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 Toby - she had suffered persecution, Trim, and had learnt mercy --
    -- 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 stone, said Trim; and some dismal winter's evening,
when your honour is in the humour, they shall be told you with the rest of Tom's
story, for it makes a part of it --
    Then do not forget, Trim, said my uncle Toby.
    A Negro has a soul? an' please your honour, said the Corporal (doubtingly).
    I am not much versed, Corporal, quoth my uncle Toby, in things of that kind;
but I suppose, God would not leave him without one, any more than thee or me --
    -- It would be putting one sadly over the head of another, quoth the
Corporal.
    It would so; said my uncle Toby. Why then, an' please your honour, is a
black wench to be used worse than a white one?
    I can give no reason, said my uncle Toby --
    -- Only, cried the Corporal, shaking his head, because she has no one to
stand up for her --
    -- 'Tis that very thing, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, -- which recommends her
to protection -- and her brethren with her; 'tis the fortune of war which has
put the whip into our hands now -- where it may be hereafter, heaven knows! --
but be it where it will, the brave, Trim! will not use it unkindly.
    -- God forbid, said the Corporal.
    Amen, responded my uncle Toby, laying his hand upon his heart.
    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.
 

                                   Chap. VII.

As Tom, an' please your honour, had no business at that time with the Moorish
girl, he passed on into the room beyond to talk to the Jew's widow about love --
and his pound of 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.
    There is nothing so awkward, as courting a woman, an' please your honour,
whilst she is making sausages -- So Tom began a discourse upon them; first
gravely, -- »as how they were made -- with what meats, herbs and spices« - Then
a little gaily - 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 in --
    It was owing to the neglect of that very precaution, said my uncle Toby,
laying his hand upon Trim's shoulder, That Count de la Motte lost the battle of
Wynnendale: he pressed too speedily into the wood; which if he had not done,
Lisle had not fallen into our hands, nor Ghent and Bruges, which both followed
her example; it was so late in the year, continued my uncle Toby, and so
terrible a season came on, that if things had not fallen out as they did, our
troops must have perished in the open field. --
    -- Why therefore, may not battles, an' please your honour, as well as
marriages, be made in heaven? - My uncle Toby mused. --
    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 Toby said nothing at all; and the Corporal finished his story.
    As Tom 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 snout. --
    -- Now a widow, an' please your honour, always chooses a second husband as
unlike the first as she can: so the affair was more than half settled in her
mind before Tom mentioned it.
    She made a feint however of defending herself, by snatching up a sausage: --
Tom instantly laid hold of another --
    But seeing Tom's had more gristle in it --
    She signed the capitulation -- and Tom sealed it; and there was an end of
the matter.
 

                                  Chap. VIII.

All womankind, continued Trim, (commenting upon his story) from the highest to
the lowest, an' please your honour, love jokes; the difficulty is to know how
they choose 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 mark. --
    -- I like the comparison, said my uncle Toby, better than the thing itself
--
    -- Because your honour, quoth the Corporal, loves glory, more than pleasure.
    I hope, Trim, answered my uncle Toby, 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 AMBITION, and
intrench the lives and fortunes of the few, from the plunderings of the many --
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.
    In pronouncing this, my uncle Toby 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.
    -- Now what can their two noddles be about? cried my father to my mother --
by all that's strange, they are besieging Mrs. Wadman in form, and are marching
round her house to mark out the lines of circumvallation.
    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
discanted 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 care not, if I repeat the word
again - for what has this book done more than the Legation of Moses, or the Tale
of a Tub, that it may not swim down the gutter of Time along with them?
    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 Jenny! than the rubies about thy neck, are flying over our
heads like light clouds of a windy day, never to return more -- every thing
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 make. --
    -- Heaven have mercy upon us both!
 

                                   Chap. IX.

Now, for what the world thinks of that ejaculation -- I would not give a groat.
 

                                    Chap. X.

My 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 Slop was overthrown
by Obadiah on the coach-horse: as this was directly opposite to the front of
Mrs. Wadman's house, when my father came to it, he gave a look across; and
seeing my uncle Toby 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 Toby and his man Trim 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.
    -- It will not detain us half a one; said my father.
    The Corporal was just then setting in with the story of his brother Tom and
the Jew's 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 long --
    -- G- help my father! he pish'd fifty times at every new attitude, and gave
the corporal's stick, with all its flourishings and danglings, to as many devils
as chose to accept of them.
    When issues of events like these my father is waiting for, are 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.
    Curiosity governs the first moment; and the second moment is all economy to
justify the expense of the first -- and for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth
moments, and so on to the day of judgment - 'tis a point of HONOUR.
    I need not be told, that the ethic writers have assigned this all to
Patience; but that VIRTUE methinks, has extent of dominion sufficient of her
own, and enough to do in it, without invading the few dismantled castles which
HONOUR has left him upon the earth.
    My father stood it out as well as he could with these three auxiliaries to
the end of Trim's story; and from thence to the end of my uncle Toby's
panegyrick upon arms, in the chapter following it; when seeing, that instead of
marching up to Mrs. Wadman's 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.
 

                                   Chap. XI.

- Now what can their two noddles be about? cried my father etc,
    I dare say, said my mother, they are making fortifications --
    -- Not on Mrs. Wadman's premises! cried my father, stepping back --
    I suppose not: quoth my mother.
    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 cuvetts --
    -- They are foolish things -- said my mother.
    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 to 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 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.
    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 cuvetts --
    - »They are foolish things;« said my mother.
    -- Particularly the cuvetts; replied my father.
    'Twas enough - he tasted the sweet of triumph - and went on.
    - Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs. Wadman's premises, said my
father, partly correcting himself - because she is but tenant for life --
    -- That makes a great difference - said my mother --
    - In a fool's head, replied my father --
    Unless she should happen to have a child - said my mother --
    -- But she must persuade my brother Toby first to get her one -
    -- To be sure, Mr. Shandy, quoth my mother.
    -- Though if it comes to persuasion - said my father - Lord have mercy upon
them.
    Amen: said my mother, piano.
    Amen: cried my father, fortissimè.
    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, Yorick's 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.
    The first Lord of the Treasury thinking of ways and means, could not have
returned home, with a more embarrassed look.
 

                                   Chap. XII.

Upon 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 five
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 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.
    The only difficulty, is raising powers suitable to the nature of the
service: FANCY is capricious - WIT must not be searched for - and PLEASANTRY
(good-natured slut as she is) will not come in at a call, was an empire to be
laid at her feet.
    -- The best way for a man, is to say his prayers --
    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 had
said them than before - for other purposes, better.
    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 faculties --
    -- I never could make them an inch the wider --
    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 next --
    In short, they were good for every thing 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
sniveling virtue of Meekness (as my father would always call it) takes it quite
away again, so you are exactly where you started.
    Now in all common and ordinary cases, there is nothing which I have found to
answer so well as this --
    -- 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.
    -- Which they certainly will, when they think as little.
 

                                  Chap. XIII.

Now in ordinary cases, that is, when I am only stupid, and the thoughts rise
heavily and pass gummous through my pen --
    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 for my soul; so must be
obliged to go on writing like a Dutch commentator to the end of the chapter,
unless something be done --
    -- I never stand confering 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.
    Now the devil in hell must be in it, if this does not do: for consider, Sir,
as every man chooses to be present at the shaving of his own beard (though there
is no rule without an exception) and unavoidably sits overagainst 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 brain. --
    -- 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 Homer 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.
    Ludovicus Sorbonensis makes this entirely an affair of the body (exoterikh
praxis) as he calls it -- but he is deceived: the soul and body are
joint-sharers in every thing 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.
    For this cause, when your honours and reverences would know whether I writ
clean and fit to be read, you will be able 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, curs'd, 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.
    -- But their honours and reverences had not seen my bills.
 

                                   Chap. XIV.

As 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 it --
    Or my chapter of Pishes, which should follow them --
    Or my chapter of Knots, in case their reverences have done with them -- they
might lead me into mischief: the safest way is to follow the tract 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.
    And first, it may be said, there is a pelting kind of thersitical 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 Grecian army, for suffering the
name of so ugly and foul-mouth'd a man as Thersites to continue upon his roll --
for it has furnished 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.
    To this, I have no other answer -- at least ready -- but that the Archbishop
of Benevento wrote his nasty Romance of the Galatea, 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 Revelations, 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 Investment.
    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 one half of the species entirely from its
use: all I can say is, that female writers, whether of England, or of France,
must e'en go without it --
    As for the Spanish ladies -- I am in no sort of distress --
 

                                   Chap. XV.

The 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;«
    For in talking of my digression -- I declare before heaven I have made it!
What a strange creature is mortal man! said she.
    'Tis very true, said I -- but 'twere better to get all these things out of
our heads, and return to my uncle Toby.
 

                                   Chap. XVI.

When my uncle Toby 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 streight to Mrs. Wadman's door.
    I warrant your honour; said the Corporal, touching his Montero-cap with his
hand, as he passed him in order to give a knock at the door -- My uncle Toby,
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 Toby's 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. Bridget
stood perdue within, with her finger and her thumb upon the latch, benumb'd with
expectation; and Mrs. Wadman, with an eye ready to be deflowered again, sat
breathless behind the window-curtain of her bed-chamber, watching their
approach.
    Trim! said my uncle Toby -- but as he articulated the word, the minute
expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.
    My uncle Toby perceiving that all hopes of a conference were knock'd on the
head by it -- whistled Lillabullero.
 

                                  Chap. XVII.

As Mrs. Bridget's finger and thumb were upon the latch, the Corporal did not
knock as oft as perchance your honour's tailor -- 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 patience --
    -- 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 potenate, great or small upon earth, more desirous in his heart of
keeping streight 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 out-do Rousseau, a bar length -- for I keep neither man
or boy, or horse, or cow, or dog, or cat, or any thing 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.
    True philosophy -- but there is no treating the subject whilst my uncle is
whistling Lillabullero.
    -- Let us go into the house.
 

                                  Chap. XVIII.

                                   Chap. XIX.

                                   Chap. XX.

-- * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **.
    * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** * --
    - You shall see the very place, Madam; said my uncle Toby.
    Mrs. Wadman blush'd -- look'd towards the door -- turn'd pale -- blush'd
slightly again -- recovered her natural colour -- blush'd worse than ever; which
for the sake of the unlearned reader, I translate thus --
    »L-d! I cannot look at it --
    What would the world say if I look'd at it?
    I should drop down, if I look'd at it -
    I wish I could look at it --
    There can be no sin in looking at it.
    -- I will look at it.«
    Whilst all this was running through Mrs. Wadman's imagination, my uncle Toby
had risen from the sopha, and got to the other side of the parlour-door, to give
Trim an order about it in the passage --
    * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** -- I believe it is in the garret, said my uncle Toby -- I saw it there,
an' please your honour, this morning, answered Trim -- Then prithee, step
directly for it, Trim, said my uncle Toby, and bring it into the parlour.
    The Corporal did not approve of the orders, but most cheerfully obey'd them.
The first was not an act of his will - the second was; so he put on his
Montero-cap, and went as fast as his lame knee would let him. My uncle Toby
returned into the parlour, and sat himself down again upon the sopha.
    -- You shall lay your finger upon the place - said my uncle Toby.
    -- I will not touch it, however, quoth Mrs. Wadman to herself.
    This requires a second translation: - it shows what little knowledge is got
by mere words - we must go up to the first springs.
    Now in order to clear up the mist which hangs upon these three pages, I must
endeavour to be as clear as possible myself.
    Rub your hands thrice across your foreheads - blow your noses - cleanse your
emunctories - sneeze, my good people! - God bless you --
    Now give me all the help you can.
 

                                   Chap. XXI.

As 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.
    The imagery under which Slawkenbergius impresses this upon his 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 'tis not destitute of
humour.
    »She first, saith Slawkenbergius, 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 Slawkenbergius, for interrupting me --
    »I have nothing, good Lady, but empty bottles;« says the asse.
    »I'm loaded with tripes;« says the second.
    -- 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 --
    -- Of what? for the love of Christ!
    I am determined, answered Slawkenbergius, that all the powers upon earth
shall never wring that secret from my breast.
 

                                  Chap. XXII.

We 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 every thing 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.
    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 of that part of the species, for whose use she is fabricating this --
or that her Ladyship sometimes scarce knows what sort of a husband will do -- I
know not: we will discourse about it after supper.
    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 Toby's 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 fill'd 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
ordained -
    And accordingly * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **.
    The DONATION was not defeated by my uncle Toby's wound.
    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.
Wadman's brain about it; and like a true devil as he was, had done his own work
at the same time, by turning my uncle Toby's Virtue thereupon into nothing but
empty bottles, tripes, trunk-hose, and pantofles.
 

                                  Chap. XXIII.

Mrs. Bridget 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 postulatum in nature: namely,
that whilst my uncle Toby was making love to her mistress, the Corporal could
find nothing better to do, than make love to her -- »And I'll let him as much as
he will,« said Bridget, »to get it out of him.«
    Friendship has two garments; an outer, and an under one. Bridget 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 Toby's
wound, as the Devil himself -- Mrs. Wadman had but one - and as it possibly
might be her last (without discouraging Mrs. Bridget, or discrediting her
talents) was determined to play her cards herself.
    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 ten-ace -- and so naked and
defenceless did he sit upon the same sopha with widow Wadman, that a generous
heart would have wept to have won the game of him.
    Let us drop the metaphor.
 

                                  Chap. XXIV.

- And 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.
    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 subtle aura of the brain -- be it
which it will - an Invocation can do no hurt -- and I leave the affair entirely
to the invoked, to inspire or to inject me according as he sees good.
 



                                The Invocation.

 
Gentle Spirit of sweetest humour, who erst didst sit upon the easy pen of my
beloved CERVANTES; 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
Sancho and his master, didst cast thy mystic mantle o'er his wither'd36 stump,
and wide extended it to all the evils of his life --
    -- Turn in hither, I beseech thee! -- behold these breeches! -- they are all
I have in the world -- that piteous rent was given them at Lyons --
    My shirts! see what a deadly schism has happen'd amongst 'em - for the laps
are in Lombardy, and the rest of 'em here - I never had but six, and a cunning
gypsey of a laundress at Milan cut me off the fore-laps of five - To do her
justice, she did it with some consideration - for I was returning out of Italy.
    And yet, notwithstanding all this, and a pistol tinder-box which was
moreover filch'd from me at Sienna, and twice that I pay'd five Pauls for two
hard eggs, once at Raddicoffini, and a second time at Capua - I do not think a
journey through France and Italy, provided a man keeps his temper all the way,
so bad a thing as some people would make you believe: there must be ups and
downs, 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 Disappointment 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 did --
    -- For my uncle Toby's 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; 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; every thing I saw, or had to do with,
touch'd upon some secret spring either of sentiment or rapture.
    -- They were the sweetest notes I ever heard; and I instantly let down the
fore-glass to hear them more distinctly -- 'Tis Maria; said the postillion,
observing I was listening -- Poor Maria, 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.
    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 Moulins --
    -- And who is poor Maria? said I.
    The love and pity 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 Maria deserve, than to have her Banns
forbid, by the intrigues of the curate of the parish who published them --
    He was going on, when Maria, 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 service upon it almost night and day.
    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 Maria's taken such full
possession of me.
    We had got up by this time almost to the bank where Maria 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 her --
    -- God help her! poor damsel! above a hundred masses, 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.
    As the postillion spoke this, MARIA 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.
    MARIA 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, alternately --
    -- Well, Maria, said I softly -- What resemblance do you find?
    I do entreat the candid reader to believe me, that it was from the humblest
conviction of what a Beast man is, -- that I ask'd 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 Rabelais 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.
    As for writing nonsense to them -- I believe, there was a reserve - but that
I leave to the world.
    Adieu, Maria! - adieu, poor hapless damsel! -- some time, but not now, 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.
    -- What an excellent inn at Moulins!
 

                                   Chap. XXV.

When 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 it --
    -- 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 Zeuxis his horse: besides, I look upon a chapter
which has, only nothing in it, with respect; and considering what worse things
there are in the world -- That it is no way a proper subject for satire --
    -- Why then was it left so? And here, without staying for my reply, shall I
be call'd as many blockheads, numsculs, doddypoles, dunderheads, ninny-hammers,
goosecaps, joltheads, nicompoops, and sh - t-a-beds -- and other unsavory
appellations, as ever the cake-bakers of Lernè, cast in the teeth of King
Garagantua's shepherds -- And I'll let them do it, as Bridget 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, etc.
    -- So I don't take it amiss -- All I wish is, that it may be a lesson to the
world, »to let people tell their stories their own way.«
 

                            The Eighteenth Chapter.

As Mrs. Bridget open'd the door before the corporal had well given the rap, the
interval betwixt that and my uncle Toby's introduction into the parlour, was so
short, that Mrs. Wadman 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.
    My uncle Toby saluted Mrs. Wadman, 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, »he was in love« -- so that my
uncle Toby strained himself more in the declaration than he needed.
    Mrs. Wadman naturally looked down, upon a slit she had been darning up in
her apron, in expectation every moment, that my uncle Toby 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. Wadman once
that he loved her, he let it alone, and left the matter to work after its own
way.
    My father was always in raptures with this system of my uncle Toby's, as he
falsely called it, and would often say, that could his brother Toby to his
processe have added but a pipe of tobacco -- he had wherewithal to have found
his way, if there was faith in a Spanish proverb, towards the hearts of half the
women upon the globe.
    My uncle Toby 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 French, every one of em' to a man, who believe in it,
almost as much as the REAL PRESENCE, »That talking of love, is making it.«
    -- I would as soon set about making a black-pudding by the same receipt.
    Let us go on: Mrs. Wadman sat in expectation my uncle Toby 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- as she did it -- she took up the gauntlet -- or
the discourse (if you like it better) and communed with my uncle Toby, thus.
    The cares and disquietudes of the marriage state, quoth Mrs. Wadman, are
very great. I suppose so - said my uncle Toby: and therefore when a person,
continued Mrs. Wadman, is so much at his ease as you are - so happy, captain
Shandy, in yourself, your friends and your amusements - I wonder, what reasons
can incline you to the state --
    -- They are written, quoth my uncle Toby, in the Common-Prayer Book.
    Thus far my uncle Toby went on warily, and kept within his depth, leaving
Mrs. Wadman to sail upon the gulf as she pleased.
    -- As for children - said Mrs. Wadman - 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-achs - 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 Toby, smit with pity, I know of
none; unless it be the pleasure which it has pleased God --
    -- A fiddlestick! quoth she.
 

                            Chapter the Nineteenth.

Now there are such an infinitude of notes, tunes, cants, chants, airs, looks,
and accents with which the word fiddlestick may be pronounced in all such causes
as this, every one of 'em impressing a sense and meaning as different from the
other, as dirt from cleanliness - 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.
    Mrs. Wadman hit upon the fiddlestick, which summoned up all my uncle Toby's
modest blood into his cheeks - so feeling within himself that he had somehow or
other got beyond his depth, he stopped 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.
    When my uncle Toby had said this, he did not care to say it again; so
casting his eye upon the Bible which Mrs. Wadman 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 Jericho - 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.
 

                                  Chap. XXVI.

It is natural for a perfect stranger who is going from London to Edinburgh, to
enquire before he sets out, how many miles to York; which is about the half way
-- nor does any body wonder, if he goes on and asks about the Corporation, etc.
-
    It was just as natural for Mrs. Wadman, 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.
    She had accordingly read Drake's anatomy from one end to the other. She had
peeped into Wharton upon the brain, and borrowed37 Graaf upon the bones and
muscles; but could make nothing of it.
    She had reason'd likewise from her own powers -- laid down theorems -- drawn
consequences, and come to no conclusion.
    To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor Slop, »if poor captain Shandy
was ever likely to recover of his wound --?«
    -- He is recovered, Doctor Slop would say --
    What! quite?
    - Quite: madam --
    But what do you mean by a recovery? Mrs. Wadman would say.
    Doctor Slop was the worst man alive at definitions; and so Mrs. Wadman could
get no knowledge: in short, there was no way to extract it, but from my uncle
Toby himself.
    There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind which lulls
SUSPICION 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.
    -- Was it without remission? -
    -- Was it more tolerable in bed?
    -- Could he lie on both sides alike with it?
    - Was he able to mount a horse?
    - Was motion bad for it?« et cætera. were so tenderly spoke to, and so
directed towards my uncle Toby's heart, that every item of them sunk ten times
deeper into it than the evils themselves -- but when Mrs. Wadman went round
about by Namur to get at my uncle Toby's groin; and engaged him to attack the
point of the advanced counterscarp, and pêle mêle with the Dutch to take the
counterguard of St. Roch 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 worth a thousand, he
had lost every heart of them to Mrs. Wadman.
    - And whereabouts, dear Sir, quoth Mrs. Wadman, a little categorically, did
you receive this sad blow? -- In asking this question, Mrs. Wadman gave a slight
glance towards the waistband of my uncle Toby's red plush breeches, expecting
naturally, as the shortest reply to it, that my uncle Toby would lay his
forefinger upon the place -- It fell out otherwise -- for my uncle Toby having
got his wound before the gate of St. Nicolas, in one of the traverses of the
trench, opposite to the salient angle of the demi-bastion of St. Roch; 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 Toby's sensorium
-- and with it, struck his large map of the town and citadel of Namur 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.
    My uncle Toby measured off thirty toises, with Mrs. Wadman's scissars, from
the returning angle before the gate of St. Nicolas; 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.
    Unhappy Mrs. Wadman! --
    -- 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 critick in keeping will be but at
the trouble to take it with him.
 

                                  Chap. XXVII.

My uncle Toby's Map is carried down into the kitchen.
 

                                 Chap. XXVIII.

- And here is the Maes - and this is the Sambre; said the Corporal, pointing
with his right hand extended a little towards the map, and his left upon Mrs.
Bridget's shoulder -- but not the shoulder next him - and this, said he, is the
town of Namur - and this the citadel - and there lay the French - and here lay
his honour and myself -- and in this cursed trench, Mrs. Bridget, quoth the
Corporal, taking her by the hand, did he receive the wound which crush'd him so
miserably here -- In pronouncing which he slightly press'd the back of her hand
towards the part he felt for -- and let it fall.
    We thought, Mr. Trim, it had been more in the middle -- said Mrs. Bridget --
    That would have undone us for ever - said the Corporal.
    -- And left my poor mistress undone too - said Bridget.
    The Corporal made no reply to the repartee, but by giving Mrs. Bridget a
kiss.
    Come - come - said Bridget - 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 sentence -- - I know it to be fact, said Bridget, from credible
witnesses.
    -- Upon my honour, said the Corporal, laying his hand upon his heart, and
blushing as he spoke with honest resentment - 'tis a story, Mrs. Bridget, as
false as hell - Not, said Bridget, 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 choose to have such a thing by one at least --
    It was somewhat unfortunate for Mrs. Bridget, that she had begun the attack
with her manual exercise; for the Corporal instantly * ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
** ** ** ** ** ** ** *.
 

                                  Chap. XXIX.

It was like the momentary contest in the moist eye-lids of an April morning,
»Whether Bridget should laugh or cry.«
    She snatch'd up a rolling-pin -- 'twas ten to one, she had laugh'd --
    She laid it down -- she cried; and had one single tear of 'em but tasted of
bitterness, full sorrowful would the Corporal's heart have been that he had used
the argument; but the Corporal understood the sex, a quart major to a terce at
least, better than my uncle Toby, and accordingly he assailed Mrs. Bridget after
this manner.
    I know, Mrs. Bridget, 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 wouldst 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 Bridget,
as is often a woman's case, »to please others more than themselves --«
    Bridget's eyes poured down at the sensations the Corporal excited.
    -- Tell me -- tell me then, my dear Bridget, 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?
    Bridget 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.
 

                                   Chap. XXX.

My uncle Toby 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 Maes or the Sambre.
    My uncle Toby, 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 communicate
--
    The Corporal, on his side, in taking Bridget, 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 seize'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
barehead and without laurels for ever, than torture his master's modesty for a
single moment --
    -- Best of honest and gallant servants! -- But I have apostrophiz'd thee,
Trim! once before -- and could I apotheosize thee also (that is to say) with
good company -- I would do it without ceremony in the very next page.
 

                                  Chap. XXXI.

Now my uncle Toby 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.
Wadman's 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, Trim! said he, taking
up his pipe again, -- bring me a pen and ink: Trim brought paper also.
    Take a full sheet -- Trim! said my uncle Toby, 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 dip'd
it in the ink.
    - She has a thousand virtues, Trim! said my uncle Toby --
    Am I to set them down, an' please your honour? quoth the Corporal.
    -- But they must be taken in their ranks, replied my uncle Toby; for of them
all, Trim, 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 Toby, looking up, as he protested it, towards the top of the ceiling --
That was I her brother, Trim, a thousand fold, she could not make more constant
or more tender enquiries after my sufferings -- though now no more.
    The Corporal made no reply to my uncle Toby's protestation, but by a short
cough - he dip'd the pen a second time into the inkhorn; and my uncle Toby
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.
    Prithee, Corporal, said my uncle Toby, as soon as Trim had done it -- how
often does Mrs. Bridget enquire after the wound on the cap of thy knee, which
thou received'st at the battle of Landen?
    She never, an' please your honour, enquires after it at all.
    That, Corporal, said my uncle Toby, with all the triumph the goodness of his
nature would permit -- That shows the difference in the character of the
mistress and maid -- had the fortune of war allotted the same mischance to me,
Mrs. Wadman 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, Trim, is equally excruciating, -- and
Compassion has as much to do with the one as the other --
    -- 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 Landen, Mrs. Wadman would
have troubled her head as little about it as Bridget; because, added the
Corporal, lowering his voice and speaking very distinctly, as he assigned his
reason --
    »The knee is such a distance from the main body - whereas the groin, your
honour knows, is upon the very curtin of the place.«
    My uncle Toby gave a long whistle -- but in a note which could scarce be
heard across the table.
    The Corporal had advanced too far to retire -- in three words he told the
rest --
    My uncle Toby laid down his pipe as gently upon the fender, as if it had
been spun from the unravellings of a spider's web --
    -- Let us go to my brother Shandy's, said he.
 

                                  Chap. XXXII.

There will be just time, whilst my uncle Toby and Trim are walking to my
father's, to inform you, that Mrs. Wadman had, some moons before this, made a
confident of my mother; and that Mrs. Bridget, who had the burden of her own, as
well as her mistress's secret to carry, had got happily delivered of both to
Susannah behind the garden-wall.
    As for my mother, she saw nothing at all in it, to make the least bustle
about -- but Susannah 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 Jonathan -- and Jonathan 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 in the hay-loft, FAME 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 Toby's siege, and what were the secret articles which
had delay'd the surrender. --
    My father, whose way was to force every event in nature into an hypothesis,
by which means never man crucified TRUTH at the rate he did -- had but just
heard of the report as my uncle Toby set out; and catching fire suddenly at the
trespass done his brother by it, was demonstrating to Yorick, 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 Adam, down to my uncle Toby's
(inclusive) was owing one way or other to the same unruly appetite.
    Yorick was just bringing my father's hypothesis to some temper, when my
uncle Toby 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 Toby was seated by the fire, and had filled his pipe, my father broke out
in this manner.
 

                                 Chap. XXXIII.

- That 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 every thing; 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.
    I know it will be said, continued my father (availing himself of the
Prolepsis) 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 Diogenes and Plato so recalcitrate against it? and
wherefore, when we go 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?
    -- The act of killing and destroying a man, continued my father raising his
voice - and turning to my uncle Toby - 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 scoundril cannon, we cast an ornament
upon the breech of it. -
    -- My uncle Toby laid down his pipe to intercede for a better epithet -- and
Yorick was rising up to batter the whole hypothesis to pieces --
    -- When Obadiah broke into the middle of the room with a complaint, which
cried out for an immediate hearing.
    The case was this:
    My father, whether by ancient custom of the manor, or as improprietor of the
great tythes, was obliged to keep a Bull for the service of the Parish, and
Obadiah had led his cow upon a pop-visit to him one day or other the preceeding
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 house-maid -- so one was a reckoning
to the other. Therefore when Obadiah's wife was brought to bed - Obadiah thanked
God --
    -- Now, said Obadiah, I shall have a calf: so Obadiah went daily to visit
his cow.
    She'll calve on Monday - on Tuesday - or Wednesday at the farthest --
    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 Obadiah's suspicions (like
a good man's) fell upon the Bull.
    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.
    -- Most of the townsmen, an' please your worship, quoth Obadiah, believe
that 'tis all the Bull's fault -
    -- But may not a cow be barren? replied my father, turning to Doctor Slop.
    It never happens: said Dr. Slop, but the man's wife may have come before her
time naturally enough -- Prithee has the child hair upon his head? - added Dr.
Slop --
    -- It is as hairy as I am; said Obadiah. -- Obadiah had not been shaved for
three weeks -- Wheu - u ---- u ------ cried my father; beginning the sentence
with an exclamatory whistle -- and so, brother Toby, this poor Bull of mine, who
is as good a Bull as ever p-ss'd, and might have done for Europa 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 Toby, is the
very same thing as his life --
    L-d! said my mother, what is all this story about? --
    A COCK and a BULL, said Yorick -- And one of the best of its kind, I ever
heard.
 
                          The End of the Ninth Volume.
 

                                     Notes

1 The Romish Rituals direct the baptizing of the child, in cases of danger,
before 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 Sorbonne, by a
deliberation held amongst them, April 10, 1733, - have enlarged the powers of
the midwives, by determining, That tho' no part of the child's body should
appear, -- that baptism shall, nevertheless, be administered to it by injection,
par le moyen d'une petite Canulle. - Anglicé, a squirt. -'Tis very strange that
St. Thomas Aquinas, 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 La chose impossible. -
»Infantes in maternis uteris existentes (quoth St. Thomas) baptizari possunt
nullo modo.« - O Thomas! Thomas!
If the reader has the curiosity to see the question upon baptism, by injection,
as presented to the Doctors of the Sorbonne, - with their consultation
thereupon, it is as follows.
 
2 Vide Deventer. Paris Edit. 4to, 1734, p. 366.
 
3 Pentagraph, an instrument to copy prints and pictures mechanically, and in any
proportion.
 
4 The author is here twice mistaken; -- for Lithopædus should be wrote thus,
Lithopædii Senonensis Icon. The second mistake is, that this Lithopædus is not
an author, but a drawing of a petrified child. The account of this, published by
Albosius, 1580, may be seen at the end of Cordæus's works in Spachius. Mr.
Tristram Shandy has been led into this error, either from seeing Lithopædus's
name of late in a catalogue of learned writers in Dr. --, or by mistaking
Lithopædus for Trinecavellius, -- from the too great similitude of the names.
 
5 Vid. Vol. II, p. 159.
 
6 As the genuineness of the consultation of the Sorbonne 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. Shandy
returns thanks to the chapter clerk of the dean and chapter of Rochester.
 
7 Vid. Locke.
 
8 As Hafen Slawkenbergius de Nasis 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.
 
9 Hafen Slawkenbergius means the Benedictine nuns of Cluny, founded in the year
940, by Odo, abbé de Cluny.
 
10 Mr. Shandy's compliments to orators - is very sensible that Slawkenbergius
has here changed his metaphor - which he is very guilty of; - that as a
translator, Mr. Shandy has all along done what he could to make him stick to it
- but that here 'twas impossible.
 
11 Nonnulli ex nostratibus eadem loquendi formulâ utun. Quinimo et Logistæ &amp;
Canonistæ - Vid. Parce Bar e Jas in d. L. Provincial. Constitut. de conjec. vid.
Vol. Lib 4. Titul. 1. N. 7, quà etiam in re conspir. Om. de Promontorio Nas.
Tichmak. ff. d. tit. 3. fol. 189. paffim. Vid Glos. de contrahend, empt. &amp;c.
nec non J. Scrudr. in cap. §. refut. ff. per totum, cum his cons. Rever. J.
Tubal, Sentent. &amp; Prov. cap. 9. ff. 11, 12. obiter. V. et Librum, cui Tit.
de Terris &amp; 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. &amp; de Jure, Gent. &amp; Civil, de protib,
aliena feud. per federa, test. Joha. Luxius in prolegom. quem velim videas, de
Analy. Cap. 1, 2, 3. Vid. Idea.
 
12 Hæc mira, satisque horrenda. Planetarum coitio sub Scorpio Asterismo in nonâ
coeli statione, quam Arabes religioni deputabant efficit Martinum Lutherum
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 et Magera flagellis
igneis cruciata pereniter.
- Lucas Gauricus in Tractatu astrologico de præteritis multorum hominum
accidentibus per genituras examinatis.
 
13 Ce Foetus n'etoit pas plus grand que la paume de la main; mais son pere
l'ayant éxaminè en qualitè de Médecin, &amp; ayant trouvé que c'etoit quelque
chose de plus qu'un Embryon, le fit transporter tout vivant à Rapallo, ou il le
fit voir à Jerome Bardi &amp; à d'autres Medecines du lieu. On trouva qu'il ne
lui manquoit rien d'essentiel à la vie; &amp; son pere pour faire voir un essai
de son expérience, entreprit d'archever l'ouvrage de la Nature, &amp; de
travailler à la formation de l'Enfant avec le même artifice que celui don't on se
sert pour faire éclorre les Poulets en Egypte. Il instruisit une Nourisse de
tout ce qu'elle avoit à faire, &amp; ayant fait mettre son fil dans un four
proprement accommodé, il reuissit à l'élever et a lui faire prendre ses
accroissemens necessaires, par l'uniformité d'une chaleur étrangère mesurée
éxactement sur les degrés d'un Thermomètre, ou d'un autre instrument équivalent.
(Vide Mich. Giustinian, ne gli Scritt. Liguri à Cart 223. 488.)
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 a son fils
que pour quelques mois, ou pour peu d'années.
Mais quand on se represente que l'Enfant a vecu pres de quatre-vingts ans, &amp;
que 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, &amp; que la Vraisemblance n'est pas toujours du coté de la Veritè.
Il n'avoit que dix-neuf ans lorsqu'il composa Gonopsychanthropologia de Origine
Animae humanae.
(Les Enfans celebres, revûs &amp; corriges par M. De la Monnoye de l'Academie
Françoise.)
 
14 Vide Menagiana, vol. 1.
 
15 Vid. Swinburn on Testaments, Part 7. § 8.
 
16 Vid. Brook Abridg. Tit. Administr. N.47
17 Mater non numeratur inter consanguineos. Bald. in ult. C. de Verb. signific.
 
18 Vide Brook Abridg. tit. Administr. N. 47.
 
19 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.
 
20 Mr. Shandy is supposed to mean * ** ** * ** * **, Esq; member for * ** ** *,
-- and not the Chinese Legislator.
 
21 Xalephs nosoy, kai dysiatoy apallagh, hn antraka kaloysin. PHILO.
 
22 Ta temnomena ton etnon polygonotata, kai polyantropotata einai.
 
23 Katariothtos eineken. BOCHART.
 
24 O Ilos, ta aidoia peritemnetai, tayto poihsai kai toys amA ayto symmaxoys
katanagkasas. SANCHUNIATHO.
 
25 Nous aurions quelque interêt, says Baillet, de montrer qu'il n' a rien de
ridicule s'il étoit véritable, au moins dans le sens énigmatique que Nicius
Erythræus a tâché de lui donner. Cet auteur dit que pour comprendre come Lipse,
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 a l'age de neuf ans; et il
nous veut persuader que ce fut en cet âge, que Lipse fit un poem. -- Le tour est
ingenieux, etc. etc.
 
26 Vid. Pellegrina.
 
27 Vid. Book of French post-roads, page 36, edition of 1762.
 
28 Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, etc. etc. etc.
 
29 Non Orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam
-- ulla parem.
 
30 The same Don Pringello, the celebrated Spanish architect, of whom my cousin
Antony has made such honourable mention in a scholium to the Tale inscribed to
his name. Vide. p. 129, small edit.
 
31 Vid. Vol. VI, p. 152
 
32 Vid. Pope's Portrait.
 
33 Rodope Thracia tam inevitabili fascino instructa, tam exacte oculis intuens
attraxit, ut si in illam quis incidisset, fieri non posset, quin caperetur. -- I
know not who.
 
34 This will be printed with my father's life of Socrates, etc. etc.
 
35 Mr. Shandy must mean the poor in spirit; inasmuch as they divided the money
amongst themselves.
 
36 He lost his hand at the battle of Lepanto.
 
37 This must be a mistake in Mr. Shandy; for Graaf wrote upon the pancreatick
juice, and the parts of generation.
