L A U R E N C E S T E R N E

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy,

Gentleman A Sentimental Journey
Through France and Italy
The present text follows the first editions.
Tristram Shandy:
Vols. I and II: [York]: [A. Ward], 760
Vols. III and IV: London: R. and J. Dodsley, 76
Vols. V and VI: London: T. Becket and P. A. Dehondt, 762
Vols. VII and VIII: London: T. Becket and P. A. Dehon[d]t, 765
Vol. IX: London: T. Becket and P. A. Dehondt, 767
A Sentimental Journey:
Vols. I and II: London: T. Becket and P. A. De Hondt, 768
Cover illustration:
Joshua Reynolds, Laurence Sterne, 760
L A U R E N C E S T E R N E
The Life and Opinions
of Tristram Shandy,
Gentleman
A
Sentimental Journey
Through
France and Italy
MU N I C H:
Edited by GNTER JRGENSMEIER
2005
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
,
, .
V O L. I.
7 6 0.
To the Right Honourable
Mr. PITT.
SIR,
N
EVER 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 thatchd
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
moments painI 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.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

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
considerd how much depended upon what they were then
doing;that not only the production of a rational Being was
concernd in it, but that possibly the happy formation and
temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast
of his mind;and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even
the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the
humours and dispositions which were then uppermost:
Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded
accordingly,I am verily persuaded I should have made a
quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader
is likely to see me.Believe me, good folks, this is not so
inconsiderable a thing as many of you may think it;you have
all, I dare say, heard of the animal spirits, as how they are
transfused from father to son, &c. &c.and a great deal to
that purpose:Well, you may take my word, that nine parts in
ten of a mans sense or his nonsense, his successes and mis-
carriages in this world depend upon their motions and activity,
and the different tracks and trains you put them into; so that
6 VOL. I
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 pres-
ently 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
confessda 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) shew us incontestably, That the HOMUNCULUS is
created by the same hand,engenderd 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, cartileges, 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
CHAP. IIIII 7
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 journeys 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 disorderd 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 thou-
sand 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.
T
O 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 reason-
ing upon the smallest matters, had oft, and heavily, complaind
of the injury; but once more particularly, as my uncle Toby
well rememberd, upon his observing a most unaccountable
obliquity, (as he calld 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 observa-
tions he had made upon me, That I should neither think nor act
like any other mans child:But alas! continued he, shaking
his head a second time, and wiping away a tear which was
trickling down his cheeks, My Tristrams misfortunes began
nine months before ever he came into the world.
My mother, who was sitting by, lookd up,but she
8 VOL. I
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 denomi-
nations of men whatever,be no less read than the Pilgrims
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. Horaces pardon;for in writing what I have set about,
I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any mans 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
CHAP. IV 9
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 pesterd 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 poppd into her head,& vice vers:which
strange combination of ideas, the sagacious Locke, who cer-
tainly 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 fathers 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
0 VOL. I
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.
O
N the fifth day of November, 78, which to the ra 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 publick
charges, and employments of dignity or power;but that is not
my case; - - - - and therefore every man will speak of the fair as his
own market has gone in it;for which cause I affirm it over
again to be one of the vilest worlds that ever was made; - - - for I
can truly say, that from the first hour I drew my breath in it, to
this, that I can now scarce draw it at all, for an asthma I got in
scating against the wind in 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
CHAP. VVI
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 mis-
adventures and cross accidents as ever small HERO sustained.
CHAP. VI.
I
N the beginning of the last chapter, I informd 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
prclarum!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 some-
what 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 fools cap with a bell to it, for a
moment or two as we pass along, - - dont fly off,but rather
courteously give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears
upon my outside;and as we jogg on, either laugh with me, or
at me, or in short, do any thing,only keep your temper.
2 VOL. I
CHAP. VII.
I
N 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
thereabouts, of which the cottage where the good old woman
lived, is supposed to be the centre.She had been left, it
seems, a widow in great distress, with three or four small chil-
dren, 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 calld out the louder for a
friendly lift: the wife of the parson of the parish was touchd
with pity; and having often lamented an inconvenience, to which
her husbands 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 diffi-
culty in effecting it to the utmost of her wishes. In truth, the
parson joind his interest with his wifes in the whole affair; and
CHAP. VII 3
in order to do things as they should be, and give the poor soul
as good a title by law to practise, as his wife had given by
institution,he chearfully paid the fees for the ordinaries
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 appurte-
nances 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 coaxd
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. Kuna-
strokius, 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 butter-
flies?and so long as a man rides his HOBBY-HORSE peaceably
and quietly along the Kings high-way, and neither compels you
or me to get up behind him,pray, Sir, what have either you
or I to do with it?
4 VOL. I
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 some-
times, 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, tuckd up to their very chins, with whips across their
mouths, scouring and scampering it away like so many little
party-colourd 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, - - - - een 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
CHAP. VIIIIX 5
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 Lordships feet, - - when you are upon them, - - which you
can be when you please; - - - - and that is, my Lord, when ever
there is occasion for it, and I will add, to the best purposes too.
I have the honour to be,
My Lord,
Your Lordships 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 hawkd about,
or offered publickly 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
6 VOL. I
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 publick 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 Majestys 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 painters scale, divided into 20,
I believe, my Lord, the out-lines will turn out as 2,the
composition as 9,the colouring as 6,the expression 3 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
9. 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 back-ground to the whole) give great force to the principal
lights in your own figure, and make it come off wonderfully;
and besides, there is an air of originality in the 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 Lordships 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,
CHAP. IXX 7
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 CUNEGUNDs
affairs, - - take Tristram Shandys under thy protection also.
CHAP. X.
W
Hatever 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 gentle-
woman, the parsons 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 midwifes 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 com-
mitted 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
8 VOL. I
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, moreover, 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 HEROs horse was a horse of chaste
deportment, which may have given grounds for a contrary
opinion: But it is as certain at the same time, that Rosinantes
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 Quixotes
horse;in all other points the parsons 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 parsons power to have helped the figure
of this horse of his,for he was master of a very handsome
demi-peakd saddle, quilted on the seat with green plush, gar-
nished with a double row of silver-headed studs, and a noble
pair of shining brass stirrups, with a housing altogether suitable,
of grey superfine cloth, with an edging of black lace, terminating
in a deep, black, silk fringe, poudr dor,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
CHAP. X 9
the truth, he never could enter a village, but he caught the
attention of both old and young. - - - - Labour stood still as he
passd, - - - 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
tranquility.His character was,he loved a jest in his
heartand 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 humourous 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 fug sculi, as with the advantage of a deaths 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,
20 VOL. I
were two incompatible movements. - - But that, upon his steed
he could unite and reconcile every thing,he could compose
his sermon,he could compose his cough,and, in case
nature gave a call that way, he could likewise compose himself
to sleep.In short, the parson upon such encounters would
assign any cause, but the true cause,and he with-held the true
one, only out of a nicety of temper, because he thought it did
honour to him.
But the truth of the story was as follows: In the first years of
this gentlemans 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 clappd,
or spavind, or greazd;or he was twitter-bond, 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, commun-
ibus 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 disproportiond to his other expences, 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
CHAP. X 2
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 expence; and
there appeared but two possible ways to extricate him clearly
out of it;and these were, either to make it an irrevocable law
never more to lend his steed upon any application whatever,
or else be content to ride the last poor devil, such as they had
made him, with all his aches and infirmities, to the very end of
the chapter.
As he dreaded his own constancy in the first,he very
chearfully betook himself to the second; and tho he could very
well have explaind 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 panygeric
upon himself.
I have the highest idea of the spiritual and refined sentiments
of this reverend gentleman, from this single stroke in his charac-
ter, 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 shew the temper of the world in the whole of this affair.
For you must know, that so long as this explanation would have
done the parson credit,the devil a soul could find it out,I
suppose his enemies would not, and that his friends could not.
But no sooner did he bestir himself in behalf of the midwife,
and pay the expences of the ordinarys 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
22 VOL. I
their destruction, were known and distinctly remembered.
The story ran like wild-fire.The parson had a returning fit
of pride which had just seized him; and he was going to be well
mounted once again in his life; and if it was so, twas plain as
the sun at noon-day, he would pocket the expence of the licence,
ten times told the very first year:so that every body was left
to judge what were his views in this act of charity.
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.
Y
ORICK was this parsons name, and, what is very
remarkable in it, (as appears from a most antient account
of the family, wrote upon strong vellum, and now in perfect
CHAP. XI 23
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 grand father
was the man who did either this or that.
This evil had been sufficiently fenced against by the prudent
care of the Yoricks 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 trans-
planted into England as early as in the reign of Horwendillus,
king of Denmark, in whose court it seems, an ancestor of this
Mr. Yoricks, 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 kings chief Jester; - - - and that Hamlets
Yorick, in our Shakespear, 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-Grammaticuss 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.
Noddys eldest son, whom, in the year 74, I accompanied as
governor, riding along with him at a prodigious rate thro most
24 VOL. I
parts of Europe, and of which original journey performd 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 refind parts; but a great deal of good plain houshold under-
standing 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 whimsi-
cal and capricious; fortune herself not being more so in the
bequest of her goods and chattels than she.
This is all that ever staggerd my faith in regard to Yoricks
extraction, who, by what I can remember of him, and by all the
accounts I could ever get of him, seemd 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 philoso-
phize 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 lookd 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 gait de
cur 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
CHAP. XI 25
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 bodys
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 invin-
cible dislike and opposition in his nature to gravity;- - - -not to
gravity as such; - - - - for where gravity was wanted, he would be
the most grave or serious of mortal men for days and weeks
together; - - - but he was an enemy to the affectation of it, and
declared open war against it, only as it appeared a cloak for
ignorance, or for folly; and then, whenever it fell in his way,
however sheltered and protected, he seldom gave it much
quarter.
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 unprac-
tised 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
26 VOL. I
either personage, time, or place; - - - so that when mention was
made of a pitiful or an ungenerous proceeding, - - - he never gave
himself a moments 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 enlivend throughout with some drollery or
humour of expression, it gave wings to Yoricks indiscretion. In
a word, tho he never sought, yet, at the same time, as he seldom
shund 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 Yoricks catas-
trophe thereupon, you will read in the next chapter.
CHAP. XII.
T
HE Mortgager and Mortgage differ the one from the other,
not more in length of purse, than the Jester and Jeste 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 Homers
can pretend to;namely, That the one raises a sum and the
other a laugh at your expence, 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
CHAP. XII 27
wantonly involved himself in a multitude of small book-debts of
this stamp, which, notwithstanding Eugeniuss 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 crossd 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 careles-
ness 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 barricadod 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 laughd 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 will 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 distin-
guish this, - - and that knaves will not; and thou knowest not
what it is, either to provoke the one, or to make merry with the
other, - - whenever they associate for mutual defence, depend
upon it, they will carry on the war in such a manner against
28 VOL. I
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, lye 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 formd 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 oripening, - - 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-powerd 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 breathd his last, Eugenius stept
in with an intent to take his last sight and last farewell of him:
CHAP. XII 29
Upon his drawing Yoricks 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 Eugeniuss 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 resourses 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 close 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 misshapend with the blows which
* * * * * and * * * * *, and some others have so unhandsomely
given me in the dark, that I might say with Sancho Pana, that
should I recover, and Mitres thereupon be sufferd to rain
down from heaven as thick as hail, not one of em would fit it.
Yoricks last breath was hanging upon his trembling lips
ready to depart as he uttered this; - - - yet still it was utterd 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 Shakespear said of his ancestor) were wont to set the table
in a roar!
30 VOL. I
Eugenius was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend
was broke; he squeezd his hand,and then walkd softly out
of the room, weeping as he walkd. 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 Yoricks 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!
CHAP. XII 3
32 VOL. I
]
CHAP. XIII 33
CHAP. XIII.
I
T 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 en-
larged or contracted in your worships 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 explaind 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
34 VOL. I
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 interpre-
tation, or of dark or doubtful meaning after my life and my
opinions shall have been read over, (now dont forget the
meaning of the word) by all the world; - - which, betwixt you
and me, and in spight 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.
U
PON looking into my mothers marriage settlement, in
order to satisfy myself and reader in a point necessary to
be cleard 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 straight forwards, - - it might
have taken me up a month; - - which shews plainly, that when a
man sits down to write a history, - - - tho it be but the history of
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 journeys 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 solliciting
his eye, which he can no more help standing still to look at than
he can fly; he will moreover have various
CHAP. XIVXV 35
Accounts to reconcile:
Anecdotes to pick up:
Inscriptions to make out:
Stories to weave in:
Traditions to sift:
Personages to call upon:
Panygericks 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 lookd 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 thats all, to tell you when it happend, 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.
T
HE article in my mothers 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 expressd in the deed itself, than ever I can
pretend to do it, that it would be barbarity to take it out of the
lawyers hand:It is as follows.
And thi Indenture further witnesseth, That the said Walter
Shandy, merchant, in consideration of the said intended
36 VOL. I
marriage to be had, and, by Gods 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, con-
clude, bargain, and fully agree to and with John Dixon and
James Turner, Esqrs. the above-named trustees, &c.&c.
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 Mollineuxs 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 i 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
CHAP. XV 37
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 expences
whatsoever,in and about, and for, and relating to her said
intended delivery and lying-in, in the said city or suburbs thereof.
And that the said Elizabeth Mollineux shall and may, from time
to time, and at all such time and times as are here covenanted
and agreed upon,peaceably and quietly hire the said coach
and horses, and have free ingress, egress, and regress through-
out 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, hin-
derance, forfeiture, eviction, vexation, interruption, or incum-
berance 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 thi Indenture further witnesseth, That for the more effec-
tually 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,
38 VOL. I
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-landsIn 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 expence 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, 77, 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
doomd, by marriage articles, to have my nose squeezd as flat to
my face, as if the destinies had actually spun me without one.
CHAP. XVXVI 39
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.
M
Y 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 teaze himself, and in-
deed my mother too, about the cursed expence, 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 Sep-
tember, 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 Fools 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 had sustaind from the loss of a son, whom
it seems he had fully reckond upon in his mind, and registerd
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, &c. 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 sharpend 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
40 VOL. I
stages were so truly tragicomical, 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 crossd 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. - - -
Certainly, he would say to himself, over and over again, the
woman could not be deceived herself;if she could,
what weakness!tormenting word! which led his imagina-
tion a thorny dance, and, before all was over, playd 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 spring-
ing 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.
T
Hough my father travelled homewards, as I told you, in
none of the best of moods, - - - pshaw-ing and pish-ing 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 Tobys
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 chagrind
CHAP. XVIIXVIII 4
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 years 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 een resolved to sit
down quietly, and make the most of it.
CHAP. XVIII.
A
S the point was that night agreed, or rather determind, that
my mother should lye-in of me in the country, she took her
measures accordingly; for which purpose, when she was three
days, or thereabouts, gone with child, she began to cast her eyes
upon the midwife, whom you have so often heard me mention;
and before the week was well got round, as the famous Dr.
Maningham was not to be had, she had come to a final determi-
nation 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 super-
added many curious improvements for the quicker extraction
of the ftus 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 souls hand but this old womans
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; thats pitiful beyond description;it is no more than a
42 VOL. I
week from this very day, in which I am now writing this book
for the edification of the world, - - - which is March 9, 759,
that my dear, dear Jenny observing I lookd 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 lessend the
honour of it somewhat, in my mothers case, was, that she could
not heroine it into so violent and hazardous an extream, as one
in her situation might have wishd, 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 mothers 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 fathers 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 concernd 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 oday!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 beggd and prayd 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 seemd so extremely
CHAP. XVIII 43
anxious about this point;my father had extensive views of
things,and stood, moreover, as he thought, deeply con-
cernd in it for the publick 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 Elizabeths 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 fools 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, &c. &c.
at his backside, they should be all sent back, from constable to
constable, like vagrants as they were, to the place of their legal
settlements. By this means, I shall take care, that my metropolis
totterd not thro its own weight;that the head be no longer
44 VOL. I
too big for the body; - - - that the extreams, now wasted and pind
in, be restored to their due share of nourishment, and regain,
with it, their natural strength and beauty: - - I would effectually
provide, That the meadows and corn-fields, of my dominions,
should laugh and sing;that good chear and hospitality flourish
once more;and that such weight and influence be put thereby
into the hands of the Squirality of my kingdom, as should
counterpoise what I perceive my Nobility are now taking from
them.
Why are there so few palaces and gentlemens 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 mothers
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 Filmers 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 houshold and paternal
power; - - - which, for a century, he said, and more, had gradually
been degenerating away into a mixd 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.
CHAP. XVIII 45
For all these reasons, private and publick, put together,my
father was for having the man-midwife by all means, - - -
my mother by no means. My father beggd and intreated, she
would for once recede from her prerogative in this matter, and
suffer him to choose for her;my mother, on the contrary,
insisted upon her privilege in this matter, to choose for
herself,and have no mortals help but the old womans.
What could my father do? He was almost at his wits 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 droppd 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
46 VOL. I
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.Con-
sider,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
withoutFy! 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 intreat
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 dressd 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 fathers 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.
CHAP. XIX 47
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 impressd 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
DULCINEAs 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 CSARS and POMPEYS, he would say, by mere inspiration
of the names, have been renderd 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 depressd and NICODEMUSD into nothing.
I see plainly, Sir, by your looks, (or as the case happend) 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
48 VOL. I
trampled upon the offer; - - - you would have thrown the tempta-
tion at the tempters head with abhorrence.
Your greatness of mind in this action, which I admire, with
that generous contempt of money which you shew me in the
whole transaction, is really noble; - - - and what renders it more
so, is the principle of it; - - - the workings of a parents 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 spight, 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;.Persuasion hung upon his lips, and
the elements of Logick and Rhetorick were so blended up in
him,and, withall, he had so shrewd 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 Isoc-
rates, 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 Burgers-
dicius, or any Dutch logician or commentator;he knew not
so much as in what the difference of an argument ad igno-
rantiam, 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
CHAP. XIX 49
defend,most of which notions, I verily believe, at first
enterd upon the footing of mere whims, and of a vive la Baga-
telle; and as such he would make merry with them for half an
hour or so, and having sharpend 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 fathers many odd
opinions, - - but as a warning to the learned reader against the
indiscreet reception of such guests, who, after a free and undis-
turbed 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 fathers
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 gaind 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 puppy dog.
This, he would say, lookd 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 mans character, which, when wrongd, might hereafter be
cleard;and, possibly, sometime or other, if not in the mans
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
assumd a power over surnames;but for very strong reasons,
50 VOL. I
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 calld 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 brothers name,
was another of these neutral kinds of Christian names, which
operated very little either way; and as my father happend 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 uncon-
querable 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 natur, but what
was extreamly 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 some-
times 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 rememberd, - - - - - whether he
had ever read, - - - or even whether he had ever heard tell of
a man, calld 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
CHAP. XIXXX 5
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 DISSER-
TATION simply upon the word Tristram,shewing the world,
with great candour and modesty, the grounds of his great abhor-
rence 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 plannd
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 Nicom-
poop, and every name vituperative under heaven.By his
ashes! I swear it,if ever malignant spirit took pleasure, or
busied itself in traversing the purposes of mortal man, - - - it must
have been here; - - - and if it was not necessary I should be born
before I was christened, I would this moment give the reader an
account of it.
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 missd a page. - - No, Madam,you have
52 VOL. I
not missd 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 there-
fore 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 christend. Had my mother, Madam, been a Papist, that
consequence did not follow.*
* 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 childs
body be seen by the baptizer:But the Doctors of the Sorbonne, by a
deliberation held amongst them, April 0, 733,have enlarged the powers
of the midwives, by determining, That tho no part of the childs body should
appear,that baptism shall, nevertheless, be administered to it by injec-
tion,par le moyen dune petite Canulle.Anglic, a squirt.Tis very
strange that St. Thomas Aquinas, who had so good a mechanical head, both
CHAP. XX 53
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
ink-horn.
I wish the male-reader has not passd 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.
MEMOI RE present a Messieurs les Docteurs
de SORBONNE*.
U
N Chirurgien Accoucheur, represente Messieurs les Doc-
teurs de Sorbonne, quil y a des cas, quoique trs-rares, o
une mere ne sauroit accoucher, & mme o lenfant est telle-
ment renferm dans le sein de sa mere, quil ne fait parotre
aucune partie de son corps, ce qui seroit un cas, suivant les
rituels, de lui conferer, du moins sous condition, le baptme. Le
chirurgien, qui consulte, prtend, par le moyen dune petite
canulle, de pouvoir baptiser immediatement lenfant, sans faire
* Vide Deventer. Paris Edit. 4to. 734, p. 366.

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) bapti-
zari 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 there-
upon, it is as follows.
54 VOL. I
aucun tort la mere.Il demande si ce moyen, quil vient de
proposer, est permis & legitime, & sil peut sen servir dans le
cas quil vient dexposer.
RPONSE.
L
E conseil estime, que la question propose souffre de
grandes difficults. Les theologiens posent dun ct pour
principe, que le baptme, qui est une naissance spirituelle, sup-
pose une premiere naissance; il faut tre n dans le monde, pour
renatre en Jesus Christ, comme ils lenseignent. S. Thomas, 3

.
part. qust. 68. artic. . suit cette doctrine comme une verit
constante; lon ne peut, dit ce S. docteur, baptiser les enfans qui
sont renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, et S. Thomas est
fond sur ce, que les enfans ne sont point ns, & ne peuvent tre
compts parmi les autres hommes; do il conclud, quils ne
peuvent tre lobjet dune action exterieure, pour recevoir par
leur ministere les sacremens ncessaires au salut: pueri in ma-
ternis uteris existentes nondum prodierunt in lucem ut cum
aliis hominibus vitam ducant; unde non possunt subjici actioni
human, ut per eorum ministerium sacramenta recipiant ad
salutem. Les rituels ordonnent dans la pratique ce que les theolo-
giens ont tabli sur les mmes matieres, & ils deffendent tous
dune maniere uniforme de baptiser les enfans qui sont renferms
dans le sein de leurs meres, sils ne font parotre quelque partie
de leurs corps. Le concours des theologiens, & des rituels, qui
sont les regles des dioceses, parot former une autorit qui
termine la question presente; cependant le conseil de conscience
considerant dun ct, que le raisonnement des theologiens est
uniquement fond sur une raison de convenance, & que la
deffense des rituels, suppose que lon ne peut baptiser immedi-
atement les enfans ainsi renferms dans le sein de leurs meres,
ce qui est contre la supposition presente; & dun autre ct,
considerant que les mmes theologiens enseignent, que lon peut
risquer les sacremens qu Jesus Christ a tablis comme des
moyens faciles, mais ncessaires pour sanctifier les hommes; &
dailleurs estimant, que les enfans renferms dans le sein de
CHAP. XX 55
leurs meres, pourroient tre capables de salut, parce quils sont
capables de damnation;pour ces considerations, & eu gard
lexpos, suivant lequel on assure avoir trouv un moyen
certain de baptiser ces enfans ainsi renferms, sans faire aucun
tort la mere, le conseil estime que lon pourroit se servir du
moyen propos, dans la confiance quil a, que Dieu na point
laiss ces sortes denfans sans aucuns secours, & supposant,
comme il est expos, que le moyen dont il sagit est propre
leur procurer le baptme; cependant comme il sagiroit, en
autorisant la pratique propose, de changer une regle uni-
versellement tablie, le conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit
sadresser son evque, qui il appartient de juger de lutilit,
& du danger du moyen propos, & comme, sous le bon plaisir
de levque, le conseil estime quil faudroit recourir au Pape, qui
a le droit dexpliquer les regles de leglise, & dy droger dans
les cas, o la loi ne sauroit obliger, quelque sage & quelque
utile que paroisse la maniere de baptiser dont il sagit, le conseil
ne pourroit lapprouver sans le concours de ces deux autorits.
On conseille au moins celui qui consulte, de sadresser son
evque, & de lui faire part de la presente dcision, afin que, si le
prlat entre dans les raisons sur lesquelles les docteurs soussigns
sappuyent, il puisse tre autoris dans le cas de ncessit, ou il
risqueroit trop dattendre que la permission ft demande &
accorde demployer le moyen quil propose si avantageux au
salut de lenfant. Au reste le conseil, en estimant que lon pourroit
sen servir, croit cependant que, si les enfans dont il sagit venoient
au monde, contre lesperance de ceux qui se seroient servis du
mme moyen, il seroit ncessaire de les baptiser sous condition,
& en cela, le conseil se conforme tous les rituels, qui, en autoris-
ant le baptme dun enfant qui fait parotre quelque partie de son
corps, enjoignent neanmoins, & ordonnent de le baptiser sous
condition, sil vient heureusement au monde.
Dliber en Sorbonne, le 0 Avril, 733.
A. LE MOYNE,
L. DE ROMIGNY,
DE MARCILLY.
56 VOL. I
Mr. Tristram Shandys 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 pro-
vided, in the second place, That the thing can be done, which
Mr. Shandy apprehends it may, par le moyen dune petite
canulle, and, sans faire aucun tort a le pere.
CHAP. XXI.
I wonder whats 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 contem-
plation 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 Tobys senti-
ments 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 mans 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,
CHAP. XXI 57
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 Williams 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 charac-
ters,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, 759, 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,
nigmatical, 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 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 thenwe 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 ra
58 VOL. I
of my begetting, as well as the mode and manner of it, had been
a little alterd, - - 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 appeard too many strong lines in it of a family-likeness,
which shewed that he derived the singularity of his temper more
from blood, than either wind or water, or any modifications or
combinations of them whatever: And I have, therefore, oft times
wondered, that my father, tho I believe he had his reasons for
it, upon his observing some tokens of 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 readers 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
CHAP. XXI 59
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 unparalleld 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 acquird.
Which ever way my uncle Toby came by it, twas never-
theless 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 possessd 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 irresistable, - - - he had acquired this amiable
turn of mind.
I wish I could say so, - - - - for unless it was with his sister-in-law,
60 VOL. I
my fathers 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 Tobys 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 say more than what I have said already, - - - - - That
my uncle Toby was a gentleman of unparalleld modesty, which
happening to be somewhat subtilized and rarified by the con-
stant 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 touchd 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 Tobys honour and
modesty obleeding; 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 desird of another, to have made my uncle
Tobys 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 Dinahs 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, calld so after his name;
and the backslidings of my aunt Dinah in her orbit, did the same
CHAP. XXI 6
service in establishing my fathers system, which,
I trust, will for ever hereafter be calld 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 veritasbut 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 Gods 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 aunts and her ashes sleep in peace;how
can you,how can you have so little feeling and com-
passion for the character of our family:What is the charac-
ter of a family to an hypothesis? my father would reply.
Nay, if you come to thatwhat is the life of a family:
The life of a family!my uncle Toby would say, throwing
himself back in his arm-chair, and lifting up his hands, his
eyes, and one leg.Yes the life,my father would say,
maintaining his point. How many thousands of em are there
every year that comes cast away, (in all civilized countries at
least)and considerd as nothing but common air, in compe-
tition 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 Scienti 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
62 VOL. I
thro which his passions got vent, when any thing shocked or
surprised him;but especially when any thing, which he
deemd very absurd, was offerd.
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, sec-
ondly, That it may be said by my childrens children, when my
head is laid to rest, - - - - that their learned grand-fathers head had
been busied to as much purpose once, as other peoples:That
he had invented a name, - - - and generously thrown it into the
TREASURY of the Ars Logica, for one of the most unanswer-
able arguments in the whole science. And if the end of dispu-
tation 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 Argu-
mentum 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 63
CHAP. XXII.
T
HE learned Bishop Hall, I mean the famous Dr. Joseph
Hall, who was Bishop of Exeter in King James the firsts
reign, tells us in one of his Decads, at the end of his divine art
of meditation, imprinted at London, in the year 60, by John
Beal, dwelling in Aldersgate-street, That it is an abomin-
able 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
out-lines of my uncle Tobys 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 Tobys 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
touchd 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
64 VOL. I
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 earths
moving round her axis, in her diurnal rotation, with her pro-
gress 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 sun-shine;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 truely
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 begin-
ning 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 move-
ments, one wheel within another, that the whole machine, in
general, has been kept a-going; - - - and, whats 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.
CHAP. XXIII 65
If the fixure of Momuss 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 mans character, but to have taken a chair and gone softly, as
you would to a dioptrical bee-hive, and lookd in, - - viewd the
soul stark naked; - - - observd all her motions,her machina-
tions;traced all her maggots from their first engendering to
their crawling forth; - - - watched her loose in her frisks, her gam-
bols, her capricios; and after some notice of her more solemn
deportment, consequent upon such frisks, &c.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 shew 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 odoors 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
66 VOL. I
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 instru-
ments.Virgil takes notice of that way in the affair of Dido
and neas;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 nigmatical, 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 mans 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 renderd still more
operose, by forcing you to have an eye to the rest of his Non-
Naturals.Why the most natural actions of a mans life
should be calld his Non-Naturals, - - - is another question.
There are others, fourthly, who disdain every one of these
expedients;not from any fertility of their own, but from the
various ways of doing it, which they have borrowed from the
honourable devices which the Pentagraphic Brethren* of
the brush have shewn in taking copies.These, you must know,
are your great historians.
* Pentagraph, an instrument to copy prints and pictures mechanically, and in
any proportion.
CHAP. XXIIIXXIV 67
One of these you will see drawing a full-length character
against the light;thats 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 Tobys character, I am determind 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 con-
sider either his repletions or his discharges,or touch upon his
Non-Naturals; - - - but, in a word, I will draw my uncle Tobys
character from his HOBBY-HORSE.
CHAP. XXIV.
I
F I was not morally sure that the reader must be out of
all patience for my uncle Tobys character,I would
here previously have convinced him, that there is no instru-
ment so fit to draw such a thing with, as that which I have
pitchd 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 filld 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.
68 VOL. I
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 stoppd 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.
T
HE wound in my uncle Tobys 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, sufferd unspeakable miseries,owing to a
CHAP. XXV 69
succession of exfoliations from the oss pubis, and the outward
edge of that part of the coxendix called the oss illeum,
both which bones were dismally crushd, as much by the irregu-
larity 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 Tobys 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 cordi-
ality 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 assignd 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 soldiers wound beguiles the pain of it;
my uncles visiters 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 per-
plexities, 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
70 VOL. I
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.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
,
, .
V O L. I I.
7 6 0.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

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 Williams 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
inclosed 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. Nicolass 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
74 VOL. II
much of each others 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 visiters; 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 bewilderd
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 fathers kind-
ness 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
CHAP. III 75
account to the man who has not read Hippocrates, yet, whoever
has read Hippocrates, or Dr. James Mackenzie, and has con-
sidered 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 Tobys 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 provd the
happy means, as you will read, of procuring my uncle Toby his
HOBBY-HORSE.
CHAP. II.
T
HERE is nothing so foolish, when you are at the expence
of making an entertainment of this kind, as to order things
so badly, as to let your criticks and gentry of refined taste run it
down: Nor is there any thing so likely to make them do it, as
that of leaving them out of the party, or, what is full as offensive,
76 VOL. II
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 rep-
resented 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 Tobys 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.
CHAP. II 77
Therefore I answer thus:
Pray, Sir, in all the reading which you have ever read, did
you ever read such a book as Lockes Essay upon the Human
Understanding?Dont 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? Dont hurry yourself.It is a history-book, Sir, (which
may possibly recommend it to the world) of what passes in a
mans 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 chamber-
maid, 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 Dollys 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 droppd upon the letter,if Dolly
fumbles too long for her thimble, till the wax is over hardend,
it will not receive the mark of her thimble from the usual impulse
which was wont to imprint it. Very well: If Dollys 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,
78 VOL. II
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 Tobys discourse; and it is
for that very reason I enlarge upon them so long, after the
manner of great physiologists,to shew the world what it did
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 Arthurs) whether you have ever read the
literary histories of past ages;if you have,what terrible
battles, yclept logomachies, have they occasioned and perpetu-
ated 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 weighd all this, and considerd
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 and ; 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 Tobys 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 79
CHAP. III.
W
HEN 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 fortnights close and painful application, which, by the
bye, did my uncle Tobys wound, upon his groin, no good,
he was enabled, by the help of some marginal documents at
the feet of the elephant, together with Gobesiuss 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 Vaubans line, the abbey of Salsines, &c.
and give his visiters 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 assimulation, 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-virtud,be-picturd,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,
80 VOL. II
reading over as he got them, and carefully collating therewith
the histories of their sieges, their demolitions, their improve-
ments 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, Coehorn, 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-balls 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 para-
meter, 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, formd 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 bewilderd track,intri-
cate are the steps! intricate are the mases of this labyrinth!
intricate are the troubles which the pursuit of this bewitching
phantom, KNOWLEDGE, will bring upon thee.O my uncle!
CHAP. IIIIV 8
fly - - fly - - fly from it as from a serpent.Is it fit, good-naturd
man! thou shouldst 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 mans knowledge in pen-
craft, who does not understand this,That the best plain
narrative in the world, tackd very close to the last spirited
apostrophe to my uncle Toby,would have felt both cold
and vapid upon the readers 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 pardon-
able to trespass against truth, than beauty.This is to be under-
stood 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
82 VOL. II
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,complaind 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 Tobys 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 Tobys carriage;he had never once droppd one
fretful or discontented word;he had been all patience,all
submission.
We lose the right of complaining sometimes by forbearing
it;but we oftener 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
Kings Serjeant-Surgeon, to do it for him.
The desire of life and health is implanted in mans 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 shewd
itself in the present case, the penetrating reader will suspect
there was some other cause or crotchet for it in my uncle Tobys
head:There was so, and tis the subject of the next chapter to
set forth what that cause and crotchet was. I own, when thats
CHAP. IVV 83
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.
W
HEN 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 Tobys wound was near well, and as soon as the
surgeon recovered his surprize, and could get leave to say as
muchhe told him, twas just beginning to incarnate; and that
if no fresh exfoliation happend, 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 conveyd an idea of
shorter duration to my uncle Tobys mind.The succession of
his ideas was now rapid,he broild with impatience to put his
design in execution;and so, without consulting further with
any soul living,which, by the bye, I think is right, when you
are predetermined to take no one souls 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
oclock that day, when he knew my father would be upon
Change.So leaving a bank-note upon the table for the
surgeons care of him, and a letter of tender thanks for his
brothers,he packd up his maps, his books of fortification,
his instruments, &c.and, by the help of a crutch on one
side, and Trim on the other,my uncle Toby embarkd for
Shandy-Hall.
The reason, or rather the rise, of this sudden demigration,
was as follows:
The table in my uncle Tobys room, and at which, the night
before this change happened, he was sitting with his maps, &c.
about him,being somewhat of the smallest, for that infinity
of great and small instruments of knowledge which usually lay
crouded upon it;he had the accident, in reaching over for his
84 VOL. II
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 otop
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, prithee
see what confusion I have here been making.I must have some
better contrivance, Trim.Canst 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 Tobys,
who went by the name of Trim, had been a Corporal in my
uncles 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 Masters discourse upon
fortified towns, and the advantage of prying and peeping con-
tinually into his Masters plans, &c. exclusive and besides what
CHAP. V 85
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 Trims
character, - - and it is the only dark line in it.The fellow lovd
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 Trims manner,
interceeding 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 for-
wards,and pointing with his right hand open towards a map
of Dunkirk, which was pinnd against the hangings,I think,
quoth Corporal Trim, with humble submission to your
Honours 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
86 VOL. II
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 Honours mind.I dare say thou wouldst
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 foss, and if your Honour could tell me
the proper depth and breadth,I can to a hairs 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 foss, (as was the case at St. Nicolass Gate ) and
facilitate the passage over it.
Your Honour understands these matters, replied Corporal
Trim, better than any officer in his Majestys service;but
would your Honour please to let the bespeaking of the table
alone, and let us but go into the country, I would work under
your Honours directions like a horse, and make fortifications
for you something like a tansy, with all their batteries, saps,
ditches, and pallisadoes, that it should be worth all the worlds
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 Trims project
and description.Trim! said my uncle Toby, thou hast said
enough.We might begin the campaign, continued Trim, on
CHAP. V 87
the very day that his Majesty and the Allies take the field, and
demolish em town by town as fast asTrim, 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 wouldSay no more, Trim, quoth my
uncle Toby.Besides, your Honour would get not only plea-
sure and good pastime,but good air, and good exercise, and
good health,and your Honours 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, Ill, this moment, go
and buy a pioneers spade to take down with us, and Ill bespeak
a shovel and a pick-ax, and a couple ofSay no more,
Trim, quoth my uncle Toby, leaping up upon one leg, quite
overcome with rapture,and thrusting a guinea into Trims
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 Masters supper,to no
purpose:Trims plan of operation ran so in my uncle
Tobys head, he could not taste it.Trim, quoth my uncle
Toby, get me to bed;twas all one.Corporal Trims descrip-
tion had fired his imagination,my uncle Toby could not shut
his eyes. - - The more he considerd 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 Trims decampment.
My uncle Toby had a little neat country-house of his own, in
the village where my fathers 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
88 VOL. II
retina of my uncle Tobys 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 belovd 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 shel-
tered 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 Tobys mind.Vain thought! how-
ever 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 mat-
ter,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, whats all that racket over our heads, Obadiah?quoth
my father;my brother and I can scarce hear ourselves speak.
Sir, answerd Obadiah, making a bow towards his left shoul-
der,my Mistress is taken very badly;and wheres 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
CHAP. VI 89
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 expence:A puddings 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 MOD-
ESTY: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 compleated the sentence or not;tis for his advan-
tage 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
periods end,then the world stands indebted to the sudden
snapping of my fathers tobacco-pipe, for one of the neatest
examples of that ornamental figure in oratory, which Rhetor-
icians 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, et ctera,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
90 VOL. II
Backside,tis Bawdy.Scratch Backside out, and put
Coverd-way in,tis a Metaphor;and, I dare say, as fortifi-
cation ran so much in my uncle Tobys 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 fathers tobacco-pipe so critically, happened
thro accident or anger,will be seen in due time.
CHAP. VII.
T
HO my father was a good natural philosopher,yet
he was something of a moral philosopher too; for which
reason, when his tobacco-pipe snappd 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 lookd something like heat;and the manner of his reply
to what my uncle Toby was saying provd it was so.
Not choose, quoth my father, (repeating my uncle Tobys
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.
CHAP. VII 9
It is said in Aristotles 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 which is to
come, he looketh up towards the heavens.
My uncle Toby, I suppose, thought of neither, - - - for he lookd
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, formd 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 fixd 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, calld Woman, and compare them
analogicallyI 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 snappd my fathers 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 deliverd
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.
92 VOL. II
CHAP. VIII.
I
T is about an hour and a half s tolerable good reading since
my uncle Toby rung the bell, when Obadiah was orderd 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 emer-
gency 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 scholastick pendulum, - - - - and by which, as a scholar,
I will be tried in this matter, - - - - abjuring 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-midwifes
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 readers imagination for the
enterance 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,alledging, that two minutes
and thirteen seconds are no more than two minutes and thirteen
seconds, - - - when I have said all I can about them;and that
this plea, tho it might save me dramatically, will damn me
biographically, rendering my book, from this very moment, a
CHAP. VIIIIX 93
professd ROMANCE, which, before, was a book apocryphal:
If I am thus pressedI 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.
I
Magine 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. Slops figure, which,if you
have read Hogarths analysis of beauty, and if you have not, I
wish you would;you must know, may as certainly be caraca-
turd, and conveyd to the mind by three strokes as three
hundred.
Imagine such a one,for such, I say, were the out-lines of
Dr. Slops figure, coming slowly along, foot by foot, waddling
thro the dirt upon the vertebr 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, prickd into a full gallop, and making all practi-
cable 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 approachd,
would not such a phnomenon, with such a vortex of mud and
water moving along with it, round its axis,have been a subject
94 VOL. II
of juster apprehension to Dr. Slop in his situation, than the
worst of Whistons 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 Doctors 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 approachd 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 turnd 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 crossd 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
happend, he had better have done nothing at all; - - - for in cross-
ing himself he let go his whip,and in attempting to save his
whip betwixt his knee and his saddles skirt, as it slippd, he lost
his stirrup,in losing which, he lost his seat;and in the
multitude of all these losses, (which, by the bye, shews what
little advantage there is in crossing) the unfortunate Doctor lost
his presence of mind. So that, without waiting for Obadiahs
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 pulld 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 stoppd
his horse, and got off and helpd 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
CHAP. IXX 95
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.
W
HEN 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. Slops figure,
or Dr. Slops presence, occasioned more surprize 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 Hamlets
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 besmeard, - - - - and in every other part
of him, blotched over in such a manner with Obadiahs
explosion, that you would have sworn, (without mental reser-
vation) that every grain of it had taken effect.
Here was a fair opportunity for my uncle Toby to have
triumphd 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 Tobys 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. Slops presence, at that time, was no less problematical
than the mode of it; tho, it is certain, one moments reflection
in my father might have solved it; for he had apprized 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
96 VOL. II
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 fathers mind took unfortunately a wrong turn in the
investigation; running, like the hypercriticks, altogether upon
the ringing of the bell and the rap upon the door, - - measuring
their distance,and keeping his mind so intent upon the oper-
ation, 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 irreconcile-
able pulsations instantly brought Stevinus, the great engineer,
along with them, into my uncle Tobys 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.
W
Riting, 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 readers
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.
Slops 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;
CHAP. XIXII 97
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 steppd up stairs to see my
mother:And, to conclude this work of imagination,let him
imagine the Doctor washd,rubbd down,condoled
with,felicitated,got into a pair of Obadiahs pumps, step-
ping 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 intrusted with the secret articles of this solemn treaty which
has brought thee into this place?Art thou 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 unarmd;thou hast
left thy tire-tte,thy new-invented forceps,thy crotchet,
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 beds
head!Ring;call;send Obadiah back upon the coach-
horse to bring them with all speed.
Make great haste, Obadiah, quoth my father, and Ill
give thee a crown;and, quoth my uncle Toby, Ill give him
another.
CHAP. XII.
Y
OUR 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.
98 VOL. II
Then, added my father, making use of the argument Ad Cru-
menam, - - - 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. Slops sudden coming, and
a discourse upon fortification;yet I feard 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 foss 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
CHAP. XII 99
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 differ-
ence? (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,twould be no longer a half-moon; a
half-moon, in that case, is not a half-moon;tis no more than
a ravelin.I think, quoth my father, that the noble science of
defence has its weak sides, - - - - as well as others.
As for the horn-works (high! ho! sighd 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 corne, and we generally make them
to cover such places as we suspect to be weaker than the rest; - -
tis formd by two epaulments or demi-bastions,they are very
pretty, and if you will take a walk, Ill engage to shew 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 tenailleBy 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 dont 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,
00 VOL. II
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 fathers as
feelingly as a man could do; - - - - but he was of a peaceful, placid
nature,no jarring element in it,all was mixd up so kindly
within him; my uncle Toby had scarce a heart to retalliate
upon a fly.
Go, - - - says he, one day at dinner, to an over-grown one
which had buzzd 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; - - - Ill not hurt thee, says my
uncle Toby, rising from his chair, and going a-cross the room,
with the fly in his hand, - - - Ill 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 pleasurable sensation;or how far the
manner and expression of it might go towards it;or in what
degree, or by what secret magick,a tone of voice and harmony
of movement, attuned by mercy, might find a passage to my
heart, I know not;this I know, that the lesson of universal
good-will then taught and imprinted by my uncle Toby, has
never since been worn out of my mind: And tho I would not
depreciate what the study of the Liter 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.
CHAP. XII 0
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 Tobys
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 shew itself in a drollish and witty
kind of peevishness:He was, however, frank and generous in
his nature,at all times open to conviction; and in the little
ebullitions of this subacid humour towards others, but particu-
larly 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 appeard with great advan-
tage in this affair which arose about Stevinus.
I need not tell the reader, if he keeps a HOBBY-HORSE, - - that
a mans HOBBY-HORSE is as tender a part as he has about him;
and that these unprovoked strokes, at my uncle Tobys 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 emo-
tion, from Dr. Slop, to whom he was addressing his discourse,
and lookd up into my fathers 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 Tobys 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, answerd
02 VOL. II
my uncle Toby, rising up by my fathers 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, answerd my uncle Toby, looking wist-
fully 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.
M
Y brother does it, quoth my uncle Toby, out of prin-
ciple.In a family-way, I suppose, quoth Dr. Slop.
Pshaw!said my father,tis not worth talking of.
CHAP. XIV.
A
T 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 Tobys
house being no further off than the opposite side of the way.
Some men would have droppd the subject of Stevinus;but
CHAP. XIV 03
my uncle Toby had no resentment in his heart, and he went on
with the subject, to shew 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 Stevinuss 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 dont
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 Stevinuss 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.
Thats 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 Peireskiuss
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 brothers part, not only to make
reparation as fast as he could for the insult he had given him,
which sat still upon my fathers 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 knowl-
edge? 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 atchievd it;yet certainly his machine
has been constructed upon solid ones, be they what they will,
or it could not have answerd at the rate my brother mentions.
04 VOL. II
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 manufac-
tures 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 recompence
the scientifick 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 05
CHAP. XV.
I
N poppd 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 prithee, 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, Ill 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:
Prithee 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
06 VOL. II
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 fellows misfortune.
Corporal Trim laid his hand upon his heart, and made a 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.
Trims reason put his audience into good humour,all but
Dr. Slop, who, turning his head about towards Trim, lookd 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,
CHAP. XVII 07
stiff,perpendicular,dividing the weight of his body equally
upon both legs;his eye fixd, as if on duty;his look deter-
mined,clinching the sermon in his left hand, like his fire-
lock: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 for-
wards 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 shew 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,
&c. shall be commented upon in that part of this cyclopdia 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 swayd, 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
08 VOL. II
orators?I think not; for, unless they practise it,they must
fall upon their noses.
So much for Corporal Trims body and legs.He held the
sermon loosely,not carelessly, in his left hand, raised some-
thing above his stomach, and detachd a little from his breast;
his right arm falling negligently by his side, as nature and the
laws of gravity orderd 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 Trims eyes and the muscles of his face were in full
harmony with the other parts of him;he lookd frank,
unconstrained,something assured,but not bordering upon
assurance.
Let not the critick ask how Corporal Trim could come by all
this; Ive 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 modelld
from it;nay, I doubt whether the oldest Fellow of a Col-
lege,or the Hebrew Professor himself, could have much
mended it.
Trim made a bow, and read as follows:
The SERMON.
HEBREWS xiii. 8.
For we trust we have a good Conscience.
T
Rust!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
CHAP. XVII 09
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 saints
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
antient 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
vilestPrithee 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 Im 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 fortifica-
tions;but the short of the story is this:That my brother
Tom went over a servant to Lisbon,and then married a Jews
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 warmd.
0 VOL. II
The tears trickled down Trims 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 fellows
grief had got a little vent,read on,and put this melancholy
story out of thy head:I grieve that I interrupted thee;but
prithee begin the sermon again;for if the first sentence in it is
matter of abuse, as thou sayest, I have a great desire to know
what kind of provocation the Apostle has given.
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. 8.
For we trust we have a good Conscience.
T
Rust! 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
CHAP. XVII
which every passion has had in working upon the several designs
which virtue or vice has plannd 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 con-
demns him not;that it is not a matter of trust, as the Apostle
intimates,but a matter of certainty and fact, that the con-
science 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.]
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 endowd 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 dark-
2 VOL. II
ness:Could no such thing as favour and affection enter this
sacred COURT:Did WIT disdain to take a bribe in it;or was
ashamd to shew its face as an advocate for an unwarrantable
enjoyment:Or, lastly, were we assured, that INTEREST
stood always unconcernd whilst the cause was hearing,and
that PASSION never got into the judgment-seat, and pronouncd
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 esteemd
it;and the guilt or innocence of every mans 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 mans conscience does accuse
him, (as it seldom errs on that side) that he is guilty; and,
unless in melancholy and hypochondriack 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, conse-
quently, 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 prin-
ciples;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
CHAP. XVII 3
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 commit-
ting; 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 fathers frank
acknowledgment)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, answerd 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 surprize, 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 Tobys argument over again to him)Why, Sir, are
4 VOL. II
there not seven cardinal virtues?Seven mortal sins?Seven
golden candle-sticks?Seven heavens?Tis more than I
know, replied my uncle Toby.Are there not seven wonders of
the world?Seven days of the creation?Seven planets?
Seven plagues?That there are, quoth my father, with a most
affected gravity. But prithee, continued he, go on with the rest
of thy characters, Trim.]
Another is sordid, unmerciful, (here Trim waved his right
hand) a strait-hearted, selfish wretch, incapable either of private
friendship or publick 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. [And please
your Honours, cried Trim, I think this is a viler man than the
other.]
Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such oc-
casions?No; thank God there is no occasion; I pay every
man his own;I have no fornication to answer to my con-
science;no faithless vows or promises to make up;I have
debauched no mans 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
CHAP. XVII 5
Law; sits there invulnerable, fortified with Case and Report
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, shak-
ing 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 mans conscience could not poss-
ibly 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 Catholick, 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
6 VOL. II
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 instances which I have drawn out of
life, are too notorious to require much evidence. If any man
doubts the reality of them, or thinks it impossible for a man to
be such a bubble to himself,I must refer him a moment to his
own reflections, and will then venture to trust my appeal with
his own heart.
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 dressd 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 surprized 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 com-
mission of that crime, to the time Nathan was sent to reprove
him; and we read not once of the least sorrow or compunc-
tion 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 cor-
ruptly,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
CHAP. XVII 7
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 pro-
nounced 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 prickd with the multi-
tude of his sins: Blessed is the man whose heart hath not con-
demn 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 chearful 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 flankd.] 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 restric-
tions 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 preachd at the Temple,or at some Assize.
CHAP. XVII 9
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 differ-
ence 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,well 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 reachd his tobacco-box.
I think, answered the Corporal, that the seven watch-men
upon the tower, who, I suppose, are all centinels there,are
more, an please your Honour, than were necessary;and, to
go on at that rate, would harrass a regiment all to pieces, which
a commanding officer, who loves his men, will never do, if he
can help it; because two centinels, added the Corporal, are as
good as twenty.I have been a commanding officer myself in
the 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 Solomons days, were not
such things as our bastions, flankd and defended by other
works;this, Trim, was an invention since Solomons death;
nor had they horn-works, or ravelins before the curtin, in his
time;or such a foss as we make with a cuvette in the middle
of it, and with coverd-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 Corporals
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
20 VOL. II
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 compre-
hend 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 pre-
tend 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 utter-
most 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 sub-
ject, 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
CHAP. XVII 2
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,Im
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 oppo-
site 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 instru-
mental parts of religion,shall cheat his conscience into a
judgment that, for this, he is a religious man, and has dis-
charged 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.
22 VOL. II
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, blood-shed, [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 shewd 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 Doctor Slop, looking towards
Trim with something more contempt than the Corporals
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.Heres
a crown for thee, Trim, to drink with Obadiah to-night, quoth
my uncle Toby, and Ill 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 prithee, Trim, said my father, make an end,for I see
thou hast but a leaf or two left.]
CHAP. XVII 23
Corporal Trim read on.
If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not suf-
ficient,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 them-
selves.
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,
proppd up with racks and instruments of torment. Hark!
hark! what a piteous groan! [Here Trims face turned as pale as
ashes.] See the melancholy wretch who utterd 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.[Dn them
all, quoth Trim, his colour returning into his face as red as
blood.]Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormen-
tors,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 clap-
ping his hands togetherI fear tis poor Tom. My fathers
and my uncle Tobys hearts yearnd with sympathy for the poor
fellows distress,even Slop himself acknowledged pity for
him.Why, Trim, said my father, this is not a history,tis a
sermon thou art reading;prithee begin the sentence again.]
Behold this helpless victim deliverd 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.
24 VOL. II
I tell thee, Trim, again, quoth my father, tis not an historical
account,tis a description.Tis only a description, honest
man, quoth Slop, theres not a word of truth in it.Thats
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, - - Ill finish it for thee,
and thou mayst 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 Colonels pay.Poor Trim! quoth my uncle Toby. My
father went on.]
Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies
stretchd,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 draggd out of it again to meet
the flames, and the insults in his last agonies, which this prin-
ciple,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 further 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.
CHAP. XVII 25
Secondly, When a man, thus represented, tells you in any
particular instance,That such a thing goes against his con-
science,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.
FI NI S.
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
26 VOL. II
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 patriarchs 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,whos 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 preachd in his parish-church, was
the ground of his conjecture,proving it as strongly, as an
argument a priori, could prove such a thing to a philosophic
mind, That it was Yoricks and no ones else:It was proved
to be so a posteriori, the day after, when Yorick sent a servant
to my uncle Tobys 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
carelesly poppd 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, droppd thro an unsuspected fissure in thy masters
pocket, down into a treacherous and a tatterd 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 Yoricks was
preachd at an assize, in the cathedral of York, before a thousand
witnesses, ready to give oath of it, by a certain prebendary of
CHAP. XVIIXVIII 27
that church, and actually printed by him when he had done,
and within so short a space as two years and three months
after Yoricks death.Yorick, indeed, was never better served
in his life!but it was a little hard to male-treat him before,
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
impelld by two reasons, which I cannot withstand.
The first is, That, in doing justice, I may give rest to Yoricks
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 worlds
service,and much good may they do it.
CHAP. XVIII.
O
BADIAH gaind 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
28 VOL. II
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 chuse 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 Tobys 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 ftus,which has received such lights, that, for my
part, (holding up his hands) I declare I wonder how the world
hasI wish, quoth my uncle Toby, you had seen what
prodigious armies we had in Flanders.
CHAP. XIX.
I
Have droppd 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 twould come in pat hereafter,
CHAP. XIX 29
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 fathers 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 slipperd pantaloon in his
second childishness, but he had some favourite notion to him-
self, springing out of it, as sceptical, and as far out of the
high-way 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 impo-
sition.To come at the exact weight of things in the scientific
steel-yard, the fulcrum, he would say, should be almost invis-
ible, to avoid all friction from popular tenets;without this the
minuti 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 butterflys 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
30 VOL. II
the very foundations of our excellent constitution in church and
state, were so sappd 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 syllo-
gism 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, con-
sent.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 shil-
lings, 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)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. Slops 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 walkd 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.
CHAP. XIX 3
This argument, though it was intirely 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 mans own wit, was worth a tun of
other peoples; and,
Secondly, (Which, by the bye, was the ground-work of the
first axiom,tho it comes last)That every mans wit must
come from every mans own soul,and no other bodys.
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, formd 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 center 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,
32 VOL. II
affirms, in a letter to Bartholine, to have discovered in the
cellul 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, shockd his imagination; he would scarce
give the doctrine a hearing.
What, therefore, seemd 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 concen-
tered, like streets and winding alleys, into a square.
So far there was nothing singular in my fathers 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 incompre-
hensible 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
CHAP. XIX 33
were the two original and most efficacious causes of all;that
the third cause, or rather what logicians call the Causa sine qu
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 havock which was generally made in it by the
violent compression and crush which the head was made to
undergo, by the nonsensical method of bringing us into the
world by that part foremost.
This requires explanation.
My father, who dippd into all kinds of books, upon looking
into Lithopdus Senonesis de Partu difficili*, published by
Adrianus Smelvogt, had found out, That the lax and pliable
state of a childs head in parturition, the bones of the cranium
having no sutures at that time, was such,that by force of the
womans efforts, which, in strong labour-pains, was equal, upon
an average, to a weight of 470 pounds averdupoise acting
perpendicularly upon it;it so happened that, in 49 instances
out of 50, the said head was compressed and moulded into
the shape of an oblong conical piece of dough, such as a
pastry-cook generally rolls up in order to make a pye of.
Good God! cried my father, what havock and destruction must
this make in the infinitely fine and tender texture of the cerebel-
lum!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 under-
stood, that this force, acting upon the very vertex of the head,
not only injured the brain itself or cerebrum,but that it
necessarily squeezd and propelld the cerebrum towards the
cerebellum, which was the immediate seat of the understand-
* The author is here twice mistaken;for Lithopdus should be wrote thus,
Lithopdii Senonensis Icon. The second mistake is, that this Lithopdus is not
an author, but a drawing of a petrified child. The account of this, published by
Albosius, 580, may be seen at the end of Corduss works in Spachius. Mr.
Tristram Shandy has been led into this error, either from seeing Lithopduss
name of late in a catalogue of learned writers in Dr. , or by mistaking
Lithopdus for Trinecavellius,from the too great similitude of the names.
34 VOL. II
ing.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 tatterd 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 turnd topsy-turvy, which was easy for an
operator to do, and was extracted by the feet;that instead
of the cerebrum being propelld towards the cerebellum, the
cerebellum, on the contrary, was propelld 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 con-
ceived it, that it assimulates 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 phnomenon 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,
shewing, a priori, it could not be otherwise,unless * * * * I
dont know what. It wonderfully explaind 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, &c.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 the affair up to its spring-
head;shewd that, in warmer climates, nature had laid a
CHAP. XIX 35
lighter tax upon the fairest parts of the creation; - - - their pleas-
ures 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 Csarian 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 cere-
bellum, either by the oss pubis on this side, or the oss coxcygis
on that;and, pray, what were the happy consequences? Why,
Sir, your Julius Csar, 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 figurd 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 fathers 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 admir-
ingwhat he thought was to no purpose to propose.
This was my father Mr. Shandys 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
christend, as I told you, but to be born too, when my father
36 VOL. II
was at Epsom, - - being moreover my mothers 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 fathers 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 fathers
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 fathers
fancy;tho not with a view to the souls good in extracting by
the feet, as was my fathers system,but for reasons merely
obstetrical.
This will account for the coallition 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 shew the world how it could happen, that I
should have the misfortune to be called TRISTRAM, in oppo-
sition to my fathers hypothesis, and the wish of the whole
family, God-fathers and God-mothers 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 Alquife, 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.
CHAP. XIX 37
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.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Multitudinis imperit non formido judicia; meis
tamen, rogo, parcant opusculisin quibus
fuit propositi semper, a jocis ad seria, a seriis
vicissim ad jocos transire.
JOAN. SARESBERIENSIS,
Episcopus Lugdun.
V O L. I I I.
L O N D O N:
Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY in Pall-Mall.
M.DCC.LXI.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

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 first*)I wish, Dr. Slop, quoth my uncle
Toby, you had seen what prodigious armies we had in
Flanders.
My uncle Tobys 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 side-
ways 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 legsand wish the wisher
something in return, of pretty near the same value,so balanc-
ing the account upon the spot, you stand as you werenay
sometimes gain the advantage of the attack by it.
* Vid. Vol. II. p. 59. {Page 28 in this edition.}
42 VOL. III
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 dangerthe 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 Tobys facethen
in histhen upthen downthen easteast 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 com-
pass,and that he had actually begun to count the brass nails
upon the arm of his chairmy father thought there was no
time to be lost with my uncle Toby, so took up the discourse as
follows.
CHAP. II.

W
HAT prodigious armies you had in Flan-
ders!
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 lefthave divided the greatest kingdoms,
CHAP. II 43
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 isgreatlittlegoodbadindifferent or not
indifferent, just as the case happens.
As my fathers 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, calld 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 arm-pit)his whole attitude had been easynatural
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 Annes reign, and in the begin-
ning of the reign of King George the firstCoat 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 fathers
situation.
44 VOL. III
CHAP. III.
I
T was not an easy matter in any kings 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 thou-
sand seven hundred and eighteen, when this happened, it was
extremely difficult; so that when my uncle Toby discovered the
transverse zig-zaggery of my fathers approaches towards it, it
instantly brought into his mind those he had done duty in,
before the gate of St. Nicholas;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 facemy uncle Toby
dismounted immediately.
I did not apprehend your uncle Toby was ohorseback.

CHAP. IV.
A
Mans body and his mind, with the utmost reverence to
both I speak it, are exactly like a jerkin, and a jerkins
lining;rumple the oneyou 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 Heracle-
otes, Antipater, Pantius and Possidonius amongst the
Greeks;Cato and Varro and Seneca amongst the Romans;
CHAP. IV 45
Pantenus and Clemens Alexandrinus and Montaigne amongst
the Christians; and a score and a half of good honest, unthink-
ing, Shandean people as ever lived, whose names I cant recol-
lect,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 frayd 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)dont 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 buzzd 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.
46 VOL. III
CHAP. V.
A
NY man, madam, reasoning upwards, and observing the
prodigious suffusion of blood in my fathers counten-
ance,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 reddend,
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 fathers brows, and the extrava-
gant 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 skrewd up his, to the same pitch;and then
the devil and all had broke loosethe whole piece, madam,
must have been played off like the sixth of Avisons 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 noth-
ing but the taylor who cut the pocket-hole;so sitting still,
till my father had got his handkerchief out of it, and looking all
the time up in his face with inexpressible good willmy father
at length went on as follows.
CHAP. VI.

W
HAT 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
CHAP. VIVII 47
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 enow,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 fathers knee, and looking up seriously in his face for an
answer,are these dangers greater now odays, 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
fathers 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 dutyhe whistled
Lillabullero.
CHAP. VII.
W
HILST 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. Slops maid delivered the green bays bag, with
her masters 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
48 VOL. III
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-tte,
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 childrenthe 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.
A
S Obadiah loved wind musick preferably to all the instru-
mental 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 mans head, as his
hat-band:the philosophy of this is so near the surfaceI
scorn to enter into it.
As Obadiahs was a mixd case,mark, Sirs,I say, a
mixd case; for it was obstretical,scrip-tical,squirtical,
CHAP. VIII 49
papistical,and as far as the coach-horse was concerned in
it,caball-isticaland 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 gripe-
ing 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 Jobs 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
contestand 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 mindwhich of the two
would have carried off the prize. My mother, madam, had
been delivered sooner than the green bag infalliblyat 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 depressd(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 abandonedas 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.
50 VOL. III
CHAP. IX.
G
REAT 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 Gods 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, be-
fore one half of these knots could have got untied.But
here, you must distinguishthe thought floated only in Dr.
Slops mind, without sail or ballast to it, as a simple proposition;
millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day
swiming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a mans
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 mothers
bed, did the proposition the very service I am speaking of. By
all thats unfortunate, quoth Dr. Slop, unless I make haste, the
thing will actually befall me as it is.
CHAP. X.
I
N 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 Mon-
mouths 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
CHAP. X 5
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 themto get them
slippd and undone byI hope you apprehend me.
In the case of these knots then, and of the several obstruc-
tions, which, may it please your reverences, such knots cast in
our way in getting through lifeevery 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 dictateis to take our teeth or our fingers to them.
Dr. Slop had lost his teethhis favourite instrument, by
extracting in a wrong direction, or by some misapplication of
it, unfortunately slipping, he had formerly in a hard labour,
knockd out three of the best of them, with the handle of it:
he tried his fingersalas! 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 mothers bed side increased.Pox take the fellow! I shall
never get the knots untied as long as I live.My mother gave a
groanLend me your penknifeI must een cut the knots at
last - - - - - pugh! - - - psha! - - - Lord! I have cut my thumb quite
across to the very bonecurse the fellowif there was
not another man midwife within fifty milesI am undone for
this boutI wish the scoundrel hangdI 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 mannerhe had
moreover some little respect for himselfand could as ill
bear with the indignity offerd to himself in it.
Had Dr. Slop cut any part about him, but his thumbmy
father had passd it byhis 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 souls health to no manner of pur-
52 VOL. III
pose.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 humoursbut carry off none of their acrimony:for my
own part, I seldom swear or curse at allI hold it badbut
if I fall into it, by surprize, I generally retain so much presence
of mind (right, quoth my uncle Toby) as to make it answer my
purposethat 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 himselfbut to the size and ill intent of the
offence upon which they are to fall.Injuries come only
from the heartquoth 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 con-
siderd 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
pardonanswered my father; I was reading, though not using,
one of them to my brother Toby this morning, whilst he pourd
out the teatis 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. Slopthe devil take the fellow.Then
answered my father, Tis much at your service, Dr. Slopon
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 bishopwith a most affected serious-
ness of look and voice, which might have cajoled ERNULPHUS
himself,he put it into Dr. Slops hands.Dr. Slop wrapt his
thumb up in the corner of his handkerchief, and with a wry
CHAP. X 53
face, though without any suspicion, read aloud, as follows,
my uncle Toby whistling Lillabullero, as loud as he could, all
the time.
54 VOL. III
Textus de Ecclesi Roffensi, per Ernulfum Episcopum.
CAP. XXXV.
EXCOMMUNICATIO.
E
X auctoritate Dei omnipotentis, Patris, et Filij, et Spiritus
Sancti, et sanctorum canonum, sanctque et intemerat
Virginis Dei genetricis Mari,
Atque omnium clestium virtutum, angelorum, arch-
angelorum, thronorum, dominationum, potestatuum, cherubin
ac seraphin, & sanctorum patriarcharum, prophetarum, &
omnium apostolorum et evangelistarum, & sanctorum inno-
centum, qui in conspectu Agni soli digni inventi sunt canti-
cum cantare novum, et sanctorum martyrum, et sanctorum

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.
CHAP. XI 55
CHAP. XI.
B
Y the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost, and of the holy canons, and of the un-
defiled 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. Thats 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 Tobys
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
56 VOL. III
confessorum, et sanctarum virginum, atque omnium simul
sanctorum et electorum Dei,Excommunicamus, et anath-
vel os s vel os s
ematizamus hunc furem, vel hunc malefactorem, N. N. et a
liminibus sanct Dei ecclesi sequestramus ut ternis suppliciis
vel i n
excruciandus, mancipetur, cum Dathan et Abiram, et cum his
qui dixerunt Domino Deo, Recede nobis, scientiam viarum
tuarum nolumus: et sicut aqu ignis extinguitur, sic extinguatur
vel eorum
lucerna ejus in secula seculorum nisi resipuerit, et ad satis-
n
factionem venerit. Amen.
os
Maledicat illum Deus Pater qui hominem creavit. Maledicat
os os
illum Dei Filius qui pro homine passus est. Maledicat illum
os
Spiritus Sanctus qui in baptismo effusus est. Maledicat illum
sancta crux, quam Christus pro nostr salute hostem tri-
umphans, ascendit.
os
Maledicat illum sancta Dei genetrix et perpetua Virgo Maria.
os
Maledicat illum sanctus Michael, animarum susceptor sacra-
os
rum. Maledicant illum omnes angeli et archangeli, principatus
et potestates, omnisque militia clestis.
os
Maledicat illum patriarcharum et prophetarum laudabilis
os
numerus. Maledicat illum sanctus Johannes prcursor et Bap-
tista Christi, et sanctus Petrus, et sanctus Paulus, atque sanctus
Andreas, omnesque Christi apostoli, simul et cteri discipuli,
quatuor quoque evangelist, qui sua prdicatione mundum
os
universum converterunt. Maledicat illum cuneus martyrum et
confessorum mirificus, qui Deo bonis operibus placitus inventus
est.
CHAP. XI 57
the saints together, with the holy and elect of God.May
he, (Obadiah) be damnd, (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 has 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 pr-cursor, and St. John the Baptist, and
St. Peter and St. Paul, and St. Andrew, and all other Christs
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.)
58 VOL. III
os
Maledicant illum sacrarum virginum chori, qu mundi vana
causa honoris Christi respuenda contempserunt. Maledicant
os
illum omnes sancti qui ab initio mundi usque in finem seculi
Deo dilecti inveniuntur.
os
Maledicant illum cli et terra, et omnia sancta in eis
manentia.
n n
Maledictus sit ubicunque fuerit, sive in domo, sive in agro,
sive in vi, sive in semit, sive in silv, sive in aqu, sive in
ecclesi.
Maledictus sit vivendo, moriendo,



manducando, bibendo,
esuriendo, sitiendo, jejunando, dormitando, dormiendo,
vigilando, ambulando, stando, sedendo, jacendo, operando,
quiescendo, mingendo, cacando, flebotomando.
i n
Maledictus sit in totis viribus corporis.
Maledictus sit intus et exterius.
Maledictus sit in capillis; maledictus sit in cerebro. Maledictus
sit in vertice, in temporibus, in fronte, in auriculis, in superciliis,
in oculis, in genis, in maxillis, in naribus, in dentibus, mordac-
ibus sive molaribus, in labiis, in gutture, in humeris, in harmis,
in brachiis, in manibus, in digitis, in pectore, in corde, et in
omnibus interioribus stomacho tenus, in renibus, in inguinibus,
in femore, in genitalibus, in coxis, in genubus, in cruribus, in
pedibus, et in unguibus.
CHAP. XI 59
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 damnd where-ever 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
sentenceDr. 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.
60 VOL. III
Maledictus sit in totis compagibus membrorum, a vertice
capitis, usque ad plantam pedisnon sit in eo sanitas.
Maledicat illum Christus Filius Dei vivi toto su majestatis
imperio
et insurgat adversus illum clum cum omnibus virtutibus
CHAP. XI 6
May he be damnd 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 Whewwwsomething
betwixt the interjectional whistle of Hey day! and the word
itself.
By the golden beard of Jupiterand of Juno, (if her maj-
esty wore one), and by the beards of the rest of your heathen
worships, which by the bye was no small number, since what
with the beards of your celestial gods, and gods aerial and
aquatick,to say nothing of the beards of town-gods and
country-gods, or of the celestial goddesses your wives, or of
the infernal goddesses your whores and concubines, (that is in
case they wore 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 Tobys accom-
panyment.]
Curse him,continued Dr. Slop,and may
62 VOL. III
qu in eo moventur ad damnandum eum, nisi penituerit et ad
satisfactionem venerit. Amen. Fiat, fiat. Amen.
CHAP. XIXII 63
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 damnd 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 Whuuuor inter-
jectional whistle,when the door hastily opening in the next
chapter but oneput an end to the affair.
CHAP. XII.
N
OW dont let us give ourselves a parcel of airs, and pre-
tend 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.
Ill 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 con-
noisseur in painting, &c. &c. the whole set of em are so hung
round and befetishd with the bobs and trinkets of criticism,
or to drop my metaphor, which by the bye is a pity,
for I have fetchd it as far as 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 prickd 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
64 VOL. III
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 lookd 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, &c. 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 Bossus,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 the
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 authors 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,
CHAP. XII 65
with the rules and compasses, if he can be spared, with my
compliments tono 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. Pauls thumb,Gods flesh and
Gods 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 wellG - - - d damn
you.Set it beside ErnulphussGod Almighty the
Father damn you,God the Son damn you,God the Holy
Ghost damn you,you see tis nothing.There is an orien-
tality in his, we cannot rise up to: besides, he is more copious
in his invention,possessd 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 lookd upon every thing in a light
very different from all mankind,would, after all, never
allow this to be an original.He considerd rather Ernul-
phuss anathema, as an institute of swearing, in which, as he
suspected, upon the decline of swearing in some milder pontifi-
cate, Ernulphus, by order of the succeeding pope, had with great
learning and diligence collected together 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
66 VOL. III
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 fathers, singular and
ingenious too;nor have I any objection to it, but that it
overturns my own.
CHAP. XIII.

B
LESS my soul !my poor mistress is ready to faint,
and her pains are gone,and the drops are
done,and the bottle of julap is broke,and the nurse
has cut her arm,(and I, my thumb, cried Dr. 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.Ill look at
it, quoth Dr. Slop.There is no need of that, replied Su-
sannah,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. Slops head.
He had not digested it.No, replied Dr. Slop, twould 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 Tobys 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
CHAP. XIIIXIV 67
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.
L
ET 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 pinkd-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 Tullys second Philippick,it must
certainly have beshit the orators 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 shoul-
ders,Oh, Sirs! it has done wonders.It has opend the
sluices, and turnd 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 shews, may it please your wor-
ships, that the decay of eloquence, and the little good service it
68 VOL. III
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 shewing.
CHAP. XV.
D
R. 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 argu-
ment 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 Tobys
side.Good God! cried my uncle Toby, are children
brought into the world with a squirt?
CHAP. XVIXVII 69
CHAP. XVI.

U
PON 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 crushd all my
knuckles into the bargain with them, to a jelly. Tis your own
fault, said Dr. Slop,you should have clinchd your two fists
together into the form of a childs 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 armd, or the
rivet wants closingor else the cut on my thumb has made me
a little aukward,or possiblyTis well, quoth my father,
interrupting the detail of possibilities,that the experiment
was not first made upon my childs 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 childs 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.

A
ND pray, good woman, after all, will you take upon
you to say, it may not be the childs hip, as well as
the childs 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 * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.
70 VOL. III
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 Obadiahs pumps,
he trippd pretty nimbly, for a man of his size, across the room
to the door,and from the door was shewn the way, by the
good old midwife, to my mothers apartment.
CHAP. XVIII.
I
T 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.
Herepray, 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 happend,
yet he knew very well, how it happend;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 disser-
tation upon the subject of duration and its simple modes,
in order to shew my uncle Toby, by what mechanism and
mensurations in the brain it came to pass, that the rapid suc-
cession of their ideas, and the eternal scampering of the dis-
course 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.
CHAP. XVIII 7
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 snatchd out of his hands by my uncle Toby, who (honest
man!) generally took every thing as it happened;and who,
of all things in the world, troubled his brain the least with
abstruse thinking;the ideas of time and space,or how we
came by those ideas,or of what stuff they were made,or
whether they were born with us,or we pickd 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 uncon-
querable theories, so many fine heads have been turned and
crackd,never did my uncle Tobys the least injury at all;
my father knew it,and was no less surprised, than he was
disappointed with my uncles 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 Ill 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. *For if you will turn your eyes inwards upon your mind,
* Vid. Locke.
72 VOL. III
continued my father, and observe attentively, you will perceive,
brother, that whilst you and I are talking together, and thinking
and smoaking 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
preconceivedYou puzzle me to death, cried my uncle
Toby.
Tis owing to this, replied my father, that in our compu-
tations 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 mans 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 more like a smoak-
jack.Then, brother Toby, I have nothing more to say to
you upon the subject, said my father.
CHAP. XIX.

W
HAT a conjuncture was here lost!My father in
one of his best explanatory moods,in eager pur-
suit of a metaphysic 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
CHAP. XIXXX 73
unswept, and the ideas whirling round and round about in it,
all obfuscated and darkened over with fuliginous matter!
By the tomb stone of Lucianif 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 Tobys
discourse upon TIME and ETERNITY,was a discourse devoutly
to be wished for! and the petulancy of my fathers 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.
T
HO my father persisted in not going on with the dis-
course,yet he could not get my uncle Tobys smoak-jack
out of his head,piqued as he was at first with it;there
was something in the comparison at the bottom, which hit his
fancy; for which purpose resting his elbow upon the table, and
reclining the right side of his head upon the palm of his hand,
but looking first stedfastly in the fire,he began to
commune with himself and philosophize about it: but his spirits
being wore out with the fatigues of investigating new tracts, and
the constant exertion of his faculties upon that variety of subjects
which had taken their turn in the discourse,the idea of the
smoak-jack soon turned all his ideas upside down,so that
he fell asleep almost before he knew what he was about.
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 Ill make use of it, and write my preface.
74 VOL. III
THE
AUTHOR S PREFACE.
N
O, Ill not say a word about it,here it is;in pub-
lishing 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, Agelastes (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 swiming 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 (dopull 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;
CHAP. XX 75
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 the several receptacles, cells, cellules, domiciles,
dormitories, refectories, and spare places of our brains,in
such sort, that they might continue to be injected and tunnd
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 filld up therewith, that no more, would it save a
mans 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,Im 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.
76 VOL. III
But then again, as we should all of us be men of great judg-
ment, we should make up matters as fast as ever they went
wrong; and though we should abominate each other, ten times
worse than so many devils or devilesses, we should nevertheless,
my dear creatures, be all courtesy and kindness,milk and
honey,twould be a second land of promise,a para-
dise 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 behoof 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 artick and
antartick circles,where the whole province of a mans con-
cernments 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 mercys sake!
let us think no more about it, but travel on as fast as we can
southwards into Norway,crossing over Swedeland, if you
CHAP. XX 77
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
empireleaving 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 houshold 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 neces-
sities,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:
78 VOL. III
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
dye 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 itI 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 judg-
ing by their eyes and ears,admirable!trusting to the pas-
sions 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 roundagainst the
stream of corruption,by heaven!instead of with it.
In this corner, a son of the divine Esculapius, writing a book
CHAP. XX 79
against predestination; perhaps worse,feeling his patients
pulse, instead of his apothecarysa 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 damnd, 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 oNokes his
nose, could stand in Tom oStiles his face, without a tres-
pass, or not,rashly determined by them in five and twenty
minutes, which, with the cautious pros and cons required in
so intricate a proceeding, might have taken up as many
months,and if carried on upon a military plan, as your
honours know, an ACTION should be, with all the stratagems
practicable therein,such as feints,forced marches,sur-
prizes,ambuscades,mask-batteries, and a thousand other
strokes of generalship which consist in catching at all advantages
on both sides,might reasonably have lasted them as many
years, finding food and raiment all that term for a centumvirate
of the profession.
As for the clergyNoIf I say a word against them,
Ill be shot.I have no desire,and besides, if I had,I
durst not for my soul touch upon the subject,with such
weak nerves and spirits, and in the condition I am in at present,
twould be as much as my life was worth, to deject and contrist
myself with so bad and melancholy an account,and there-
fore, 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
80 VOL. III
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 goldsmiths 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 fastend 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 knobbs Im 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 illustra-
ting 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, dont laugh at it.
But did you ever see in the whole course of your lives such a
CHAP. XX 8
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 knobb 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 knobb at all.
Now these two knobsor 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 prizd,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
stedfastly resolve in his own mind, to be, or to be thought at
least master of the one or the other, and indeed of both of them,
if the thing seems any way feasible, or likely to be brought
to pass.
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
spight of all their gravities, they must een 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
82 VOL. III
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 philos-
ophised upon it;on the contrary, he took the fact for granted,
and so joined in with the cry, and hallood 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
one general declarationThat I have no abhorrence what-
ever, 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 self-same imposturefor any
purpose,peace be with them; mark only,I write not
for them.
CHAP. XXI.
E
VERY 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:
CHAP. XXIXXII 83
his rhetoric and conduct were at perpetual handy-cuffs.
Never did the parlour-door openbut 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 un-
happy creature, that he should do so!are not the necessary
causes of misery in this life enow, but he must add voluntary
ones to his stock of sorrow;struggle against evils which
cannot be avoided, and submit to others, which a tenth part of
the trouble they create him, would remove from his heart for
ever?
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.
W
HEN 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 the 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 opend and turnd 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
84 VOL. III
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 Trims 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 arm-chairs, dream-
ing 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 stepd 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 lord-
ships, how can it be otherwise?
Pray whats the matter? Who is there? cried my father, wak-
ing, 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 bring-
ing in.They shant 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-grandfathers, brother Toby,they were heredi-
tary. 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, (smil-
ing, though very angry at the same time) have been in the family,
CHAP. XXII 85
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.Ill 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.Ill 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, con-
tinued 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 expences 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.
86 VOL. III
CHAP. XXIII.
A
LL 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 Trims, 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
Tobys amours with widow Wadman, in which corporal Trim
was no mean actor,or else in the middle of his and my uncle
Tobys 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 Im upon,and if I tell it
hereI anticipate matters, and ruin it there.
What would your worships have me to do in this case?
CHAP. XXIIIXXIV 87
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 shew him, where he is to begin it,and where he is
to end it,what he is to put into it,and what he is to leave
out,how much of it he is to cast into shade,and where-
abouts he is to throw his light!Ye, who preside over this
vast empire of biographical freebooters, and see how many
scrapes and plunges your subjects hourly fall into;will you do
one thing?
I beg and beseech you, (in case you will do nothing better for
us) that where-ever, 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
center of them, in mere charity to direct an uncertain devil,
which of the three he is to take.
CHAP. XXIV.
T
HO 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 Tobys
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 Trims 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
88 VOL. III
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 Trims and my uncle Tobys 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 Pompadours vis a
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 Tobys 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 himselfor 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 turn-
ing 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 3, to the
latter end of my uncle Tobys campaign in the year 8, which
was about six or seven weeks before the time Im 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
CHAP. XXIV 89
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 shewing 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-mouthd trumpet of Fame carried it from ear to
ear, till at length it reached my fathers, with this untoward
circumstance along with it, that my uncle Tobys 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 crushd all to pieces that very night.
My father, as you have observed, had no great esteem for my
uncle Tobys 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 fathers imagination beyond
measure; but this being an accident much more to his humour
than any one which had yet befalln it, it proved an inexhaustible
fund of entertainment to him.Well,but dear Toby! my
father would say, do tell me seriously how this affair of the
bridge happened.How can you teaze 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 shewing Mrs.
Bridget our fortifications, and in going too near the edge of the
foss, I unfortunately slipd in.Very well Trim! my father
would cry,(smiling mysteriously, and giving a nod,but
without interrupting him)and being linkd fast, an
please your honour, arm in arm with Mrs. Bridget, I draggd
her after me, by means of which she fell backwards soss against
the bridge,and Trims 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
90 VOL. III
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 pet-
ards,my father would exhaust all the stores of his eloquence
(which indeed were very great) in a panegyric upon the BATTER-
ING-RAMS of the ancients,the VINEA which Alexander made
use of at the siege of Tyre.He would tell my uncle Toby of
the CATAPULT 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 PYRA-
BOLI,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
smoaking his pipe; in doing which, he raised so dense a vapour
one night after supper, that it set my father, who was a little
phthisical, into a suffocating fit of violent coughing: my uncle
Toby leapd up without feeling the pain upon his groin,and,
with infinite pity, stood beside his brothers 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 pulld out of his pocket.The affec-
tionate 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 knockd 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 9
CHAP. XXV.
T
HE draw-bridge being held irreparable, Trim was ordered
directly to set about another,but not upon the same
model; for cardinal Alberonis 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 likeli-
hood be either in Naples or Scicily,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 fosse, and the other, to the
other; the advantage of which was this, that by dividing the
weight of the bridge into two equal portions, it impowered my
uncle 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 enemys
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
92 VOL. III
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 corporals
misfortune,he changed his mind, for that of the marquis
dHpitals invention, which the younger Bernouilli has so well
and learnedly described, as your worships may see,Act. Erud.
Lips. an. 695,to these a lead weight is an eternal ballance,
and keeps watch as well as a couple of centinels, inasmuch as
the construction of them was a curve-line approximating to a
cycloid,if not a cycloid itself.
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.Well ask somebody about it, cried my
uncle Toby to Trim.
CHAP. XXVI.
W
HEN 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
dHpitals 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 Tobys head been a Savoyards box, and my
father peeping in all the time at one end of it,it could not
CHAP. XXVIXXVIII 93
have given him a more distinct conception of the operations in
my uncle Tobys imagination, than what he had; so notwith-
standing the catapulta and battering-ram, and his bitter impre-
cation about them, he was just beginning to triumph
When Trims answer, in an instant, tore the laurel from his
brows, and twisted it to pieces.
CHAP. XXVII.

T
HIS unfortunate draw-bridge of yours, quoth my
fatherGod bless your honour, cried Trim, tis a
bridge for masters nose.In bringing him into the world
with his vile instruments, he has crushd 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 Susannahs stays, to raise it up.
Lead me, brother Toby, cried my father, to my room
this instant.
CHAP. XXVIII.
F
ROM 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 thickend, 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.
94 VOL. III
And this moment that I last dippd my pen into my ink, I
could not help taking notice what a cautious air of sad com-
posure and solemnity there appeard in my manner of doing it.
Lord! how different from the rash jerks, and hare-braind
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
WONT 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 imagin-
able, but at the same time, in the most lamentable attitude of a
man borne down with sorrows, that ever the eye of pity droppd
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 touchd the quilt;his left arm
hung insensible over the side of the bed, his knuckles reclining
upon the handle of the chamber pot, which peepd 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 fixd, inflexible sorrow
took possession of every line of his face.He sighd once,
heaved his breast often,but utterd not a word.
An old set-stitchd chair, valanced and fringed around with
party-colourd worsted bobs, stood at the beds head, opposite
to the side where my fathers 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
CHAP. XXIXXXX 95
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
ones service,he pulld out a cambrick handkerchief,
gave a low sigh,but held his peace.
CHAP. XXX.

A
LL 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
blessd 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 childs 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 surrenderd
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.
96 VOL. III
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 exact-
ness 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 pre-
caution, 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 readers 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 wit-
ness, how the world has revenged itself upon me for leaving so
many openings to equivocal strictures,and for depending so
much as I have done, all along, upon the cleanliness of my
readers imaginations.
Here are two senses, cried Eugenius, as we walkd
along, pointing with the fore finger of his right hand to the word
CHAP. XXXIXXXII 97
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 defineis to
distrust.Thus I triumphd over Eugenius; but I triumphd
over him as I always do, like a fool.Tis my comfort how-
ever, I am not an obstinate one; therefore
I define a nose, as follows,intreating only beforehand,
and beseeching my readers, both male and female, of what age,
complexion, and condition soever, for the love of God and their
own souls, to guard against the temptations and suggestions of
the devil, and suffer him by no art or wile to put any other ideas
into their minds, than what I put into my definition.For by
the word 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.

B
ECAUSE, quoth my great grandmother, re-
peating the words again,you have little or no
nose, Sir
Sdeath! 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 fathers.Now, my great grandfathers 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.
{* Page 9 in this edition.}
98 VOL. III
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
fathers. You must mean your uncles, replied my great grand-
mother.
My great grandfather was convinced.He untwisted
the paper, and signed the article.
CHAP. XXXIII.

W
HAT an unconscionable jointure, my dear, do we
pay out of this small estate of ours, quoth my grand-
mother 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 out-
lived 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 enterd upon the odd fifty,he generally gave a loud
Hem!rubbd 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,lookd 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
CHAP. XXXIII 99
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.TRA-
DITION was all along on its side, and INTEREST was every half
year stepping in to strengthen it; so that the whimsicality of my
fathers 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 suckd this in, with his mothers
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 prob-
lems 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 rankd very high in king Harry the
VIIIths 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 grandfathers nose.It was an ace of
clubs indeed, he would cry, shaking his head,and as vile a
one for an unfortunate family, as ever turnd up trumps.
Fair and softly, gentle reader!where is thy fancy
carrying thee?If there is truth in man, by my great grand-
fathers 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!
200 VOL. III
CHAP. XXXIV.
I
T is a singular blessing, that nature has formd 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 whiskd 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 pickd 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 mans right
to this apple? ex confesso, he will say,things were in a
state of nature.The apple, as much Franks apple, as Johns.
Pray, Mr. Shandy, what patent has he to shew for it? and how
did it begin to be his? was it, when he set his heart upon it? or
when he gatherd it? or when he chewd it? or when he roasted
it? or when he peeld? 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 lawyers beard being three inches and a
half and three eighths longer than Didius his beard,Im 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 Hermogeness codes, and in all the codes from Justinians
down to the codes of Louis and Des Eaux,That the sweat of
a mans brows, and the exsudations of a mans brains, are as
much a mans own property, as the breeches upon his backside;
which said exsudations, &c. being droppd upon the said
apple by the labour of finding it, and picking it up; and being
CHAP. XXXIV 20
moreover indissolubly wafted, and as indissolubly annexd by
the picker up, to the thing pickd up, carried home, roasted,
peeld, eaten, digested, and so on;tis evident that the gath-
erer of the apple, in so doing, has mixd 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 Johns 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 claimd 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 Tobys 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 trans-
gression, my dear uncle.
Here,but why here,rather than in any other part of
202 VOL. III
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 nephews bosom.Peace and comfort rest for
evermore upon thy head!Thou enviedst no mans comforts,
insultedst no mans opinions.Thou blackenedst no
mans character,devouredst no mans 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 ones service, thou hadst a tear,for each mans 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 demolishd.
CHAP. XXXV.
M
Y fathers collection was not great, but to make amends,
it was curious; and consequently, he was some time in
making it; he had the great good fortune however to set off well,
in getting Bruscambilles 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 chaind up in the lib-
raries 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
CHAP. XXXVXXXVI 203
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 enter-
tainment at all, to by-standers,Take notice, I go no farther
with the simile,my fathers eye was greater than his appe-
tite,his zeal greater than his knowledge,he cooldhis
affections became divided,he got hold of Prignitz,pur-
chased Scroderus, Andrea Parus, Bouchets Evening Con-
ferences, 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.
O
F 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 dont let Satan, my dear girl, in this chapter, take advantage
of any one spot of rising-ground to get astride of your imagina-
tion, if you can any ways help it; or if he is so nimble as to slip
on,let me beg of you, like an unbackd 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 Tickletobys mare, you
break a strap or a crupper, and throw his worship into the dirt.
You need not kill him.
And pray who was Tickletobys mare?tis just as dis-
creditable and unscholar-like a question, Sir, as to have asked
what year (ab. urb. con.) the second Punic war broke out.
Who was Tickletobys mare!Read, read, read, read, my
204 VOL. III
unlearned reader! read,or by the knowledge of the great saint
ParaleipomenonI 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 unraval the many opinions, transactions and
truths which still lie mystically hid under the dark veil of the
black one.
CHAP. XXXVII 207
CHAP. XXXVII.
N
IHIL me pnitet hujus nasi, quoth Pamphagus;
that is,My nose has been the making of me.
Nec est cur pniteat 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 fathers
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 bestowd upon man on purpose to investigate truth
and fight for her on all sides.My father pishd and pughd
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 interpretation,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, dont
write dialogues upon long noses for nothing.Ill study the
mystic and the allegoric sense,here is some room to turn a
mans 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.Ive got within a single letter, brother Toby,
cried my father, of Erasmus his mystic meaning.You are near
208 VOL. III
enough, brother, replied my uncle, in all conscience.
Pshaw! cried my father, scratching on,I might as well be
seven miles off.Ive done it,said my father, snapping his
fingers.See, my dear brother Toby, how I have mended the
sense.But you have marrd 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 Disgrzias,
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 heardst 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 Slawkenbergiuss
sensorium,so that Slawkenbergius should know whose
finger touchd 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 playd upon, for aught I know, like one
of Whitfields disciples,that is, with such a distinct intelli-
gence, 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 worktowards the end
CHAP. XXXVIII 209
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 distin-
guish the main end and design of his being;or,to
shorten my translation, for Slawkenbergiuss book is in Latin,
and not a little prolix in this passage,ever since I under-
stood, 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-nichd 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 pro-
foundest knowledge of the sciences had impowered him to
cast upon it,collating, collecting and compiling,begging,
borrowing, and stealing, as he went along, all that had been
wrote or wrangled thereupon in the schools and porticos of
the learned: so that Slawkenbergius his book may properly be
considered, not only as a model,but as a thorough-stitchd
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 (other-
wise) valuable books and treatises of my fathers 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 scholar-like examination of above four thousand
20 VOL. III
different skulls, in upwards of twenty charnel houses in Silesia,
which he had rummaged,has informed us, that the mensu-
ration and configuration of the osseous or boney parts of human
noses, in any given tract of country, except Crim Tartary, where
they are all crushd 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 impelld, 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 wearers 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 Parus
decided it in a moment, and by overthrowing the systems, both
of Prignitz and Scroderus, drove my father out of both sides of
the controversy at once.
Be witness
I dont acquaint the learned reader,in saying it, I mention
it only to shew the learned, I know the fact myself.
That this Ambrose Parus was chief surgeon and nose-
CHAP. XXXVIII 2
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
Taliacotiuss 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 Parus 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 nurses 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 snubbd, 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 mothers breast,by
sinking into it, quoth Parus, as into so much butter, the nose
was comforted, nourishd, plumpd up, refreshd, refocillated,
and set a growing for ever.
I have but two things to observe of Parus; 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 Parus 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
turnd 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
22 VOL. III
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 Tobys 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 crucifixd,myself to be tristramd, 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 lapsd already.Of all the perplexities a
mortal author was ever seen in,this certainly is the greatest,
for I have Hafen Slawkenbergiuss folio, Sir, to finisha
dialogue between my father and my uncle Toby, upon the
solution of Prignitz, Scroderus, Ambrose Parus, 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.
T
HERE 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
CHAP. XXXIX 23
felicity as ours was, for this end; or in which the capacities of
affording such exquisite scenes, and the powers of shifting them
perpetually from morning to night, were lodged and intrusted
with so unlimited a confidence, as in the SHANDY-FAMILY.
Not any one of these was more diverting, I say, in this whimsi-
cal theatre of ours,than what frequently arose out of this
self-same chapter of long noses,especially when my fathers
imagination was heated with the enquiry, and nothing would
serve him but to heat my uncle Tobys too.
My uncle Toby would give my father all possible fair play in
this attempt; and with infinite patience would sit smoaking his
pipe for whole hours together, whilst my father was practising
upon his head, and trying every accessible avenue to drive
Prignitz and Scroderuss solutions into it.
Whether they were above my uncle Tobys reason,or
contrary to it,or that his brain was like damp 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 Scroderuss doctrines,I
say not,let school-menscullions, 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 Slawkenbergiuss 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 opend a door to a second misfortune;that in
the warmer paroxisms of his zeal to open my uncle Tobys
eyesmy fathers ideas run on, as much faster than the
translation, as the translation outmoved my uncle Tobys;
neither the one or the other added much to the perspicuity of
my fathers lecture.
24 VOL. III
CHAP. XL.
T
HE 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 wonder-
fully gifted, as to syllogize after the same fashion, and oft-times
to make very well out too:but thats 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 mens 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 illus-
trated his systems of noses, and observed my uncle Tobys
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,sur-
veying 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 compre-
hendto 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 25
CHAP. XLI.
T
IS a pity, cried my father one winters night, after a three
hours painful translation of Slawkenbergius,tis a pity,
cried my father, putting my mothers thread-paper into the book
for a mark, as he spokethat truth, brother Toby, should
shut herself up in such impregnable fastnesses, and be so obstin-
ate 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 Tobys fancy, during the time of my fathers
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 pros and cons, as if my father had
been translating Hafen Slawkenbergius from the Latin tongue
into the Cheroke. But the word siege, like a talismanic power,
in my fathers metaphor, wafting back my uncle Tobys fancy,
quick as a note could follow the touch,he opend 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 shewn 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,
pluckd my mothers thread-paper out of Slawkenberg-
iuss book,went hastily to his bureau,walkd slowly back,
26 VOL. III
twisting my mothers thread-paper about his thumb,un-
buttond his waistcoat,threw my mothers thread-paper
into the fire,bit her sattin pin-cushion in two, filld his mouth
with bran,confounded it;but mark!the oath of confusion
was levelld at my uncle Tobys brain,which was een con-
fused 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 fathers passions lasted not long; for so long
as they did last, they led him a busy life ont, 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
fathers 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 Tobys questions.
Had ten dozen of hornets stung him behind in so many different
places all at one time,he could not have exerted more mechan-
ical functions in fewer seconds,or started half so much, as
with one single qure of three words unseasonably popping in
full upon him in his hobbyhorsical career.
Twas all one to my uncle Toby,he smoaked his pipe on,
with unvaried composure,his heart never intended offence to
his brother,and as his head could seldom find out where the
sting of it lay,he always gave my father the credit of cooling
by himself.He was five minutes and thirty-five seconds
about it in the present case.
By all thats good! said my father, swearing, as he came to
himself, and taking the oath out of Ernulphuss 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 thats 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 knowl-
edge have given the world, of the causes of short and long
CHAP. XLIXLII 27
noses.There is no cause but one, replied my uncle Toby,
why one mans nose is longer than anothers, but because that
God pleases to have it so.That is Grangousiers solution,
said my father.Tis he, continued my uncle Toby, looking
up, and not regarding my fathers interruption, who makes us
all, and frames and puts us together in such forms and pro-
portions, and for such ends, as is agreeable to his infinite wis-
dom.Tis a pious account, cried my father, but not philo-
sophical,there is more religion in it than sound science. Twas
no inconsistent part of my uncle Tobys 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 wifes thread-paper?
CHAP. XLII.
N
O 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 knowl-
edge 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 world 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 canons prayer-book,so worn,
28 VOL. III
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 dont
say the most profitable, but the most amusing part of Hafen
Slawkenbergius, is his tales,and, considering he was a Ger-
man, 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, Ill tell you the ninth tale of his tenth decad.
THE END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Multitudinis imperit non formido judicia; meis
tamen, rogo, parcant opusculisin quibus
fuit propositi semper, a jocis ad seria, a seriis
vicissim ad jocos transire.
JOAN. SARESBERIENSIS,
Episcopus Lugdun.
V O L. I V.
L O N D O N:
Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY in Pall-Mall.
M.DCC.LXI.
SLAWKENBERGI I
FABELLA.*
V
ESPERA qudam frigidul, posteriori in parte mensis
Augusti, peregrinus, mulo fusco colore insidens, mantic a
tergo, paucis indusijs, binis calceis, braccisque sericis coccinejs
replet Argentoratum ingressus est.
Militi eum percontanti, quum portus intraret, dixit, se apud
Nasorum promontorium fuisse, Francofurtum proficisci, et
Argentoratum, transitu ad fines Sarmati mensis intervallo,
reversurum.
Miles peregrini in faciem suspexitDi boni, nova forma nasi !
At multum mihi profuit, inquit peregrinus, carpum amento
extrahens, e quo pependit acinaces: Loculo manum inseruit; &
magn cum urbanitate, pilei parte anteriore tact manu sinistr,
ut extendit dextram, militi florinum dedit et processit.
Dolet mihi, ait miles, tympanistam nanum et valgum allo-
quens, virum adeo urbanum vaginam perdidisse; itinerari haud
poterit nud acinaci, neque vaginam toto Argentorato, habilem
inveniet.Nullam unquam habui, respondit peregrinus respici-
ens,seque comiter inclinanshoc more gesto, nudam acina-
cem elevans, mulo lent progrediente, ut nasum tueri possim.
* 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 philosophicand, I think, has more of Latinity
in it.
SLAWKENBERGI US S
TALE.
I
T 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-sattin
pair of breeches, entered the town of Strasburg.
He told the centinel, who questioned him as he entered the
gates, that he had been at the promontory of NOSESwas
going on to Frankfortand should be back again at Strasburg
that day month, in his way to the borders of Crim-Tartary.
The centinel looked up into the strangers facenever 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 righthe put a florin into the
centinels hand, and passed on.
It grieves me, said the centinel, speaking to a little dwarfish
bandy-legd drummer, that so courteous a soul should have lost
his scabbardhe 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 spokeI
carry it, continued he, thusholding up his naked scymetar,
his mule moving on slowly all the time, on purpose to defend
my nose.
222 VOL. IV
Non immerito, benigne peregrine, respondit miles.
Nihili stimo, ait ille tympanista, e pergamen 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 tetigimus!
Eodem temporis puncto, quo hc res argumentata fuit inter
militem et tympanistam, disceptabatur ibidem tubicine & uxore
su, qui tunc accesserunt, et peregrino prtereunte, restiterunt.
Quantus nasus! que longus est, ait tubicina, ac tuba.
Et ex eodem metallo, ait tubicen, velut sternutamento audias.
Tantum abest, respondit illa, quod fistulam dulcedine vincit.
neus est, ait tubicen.
Nequaquam, respondit uxor.
Rursum affirmo, ait tubicen, quod neus est.
Rem penitus explorabo; prius, enim digito tangam, ait uxor,
quam dormivero.
Mulus peregrini, gradu lento progressus est, ut unumquodque
verbum controversi, non tantum inter militem et tympanistam,
verum etiam inter tubicinem et uxorem ejus, audiret.
Nequaquam, ait ille, in muli collum frna demittens, & man-
ibus ambabus in pectus positis, (mulo lent progrediente) nequa-
quam ait ille, respiciens, non necesse est ut res isthc dilucidata
foret. Minime gentium! meus nasus nunquam tangetur, dum
spiritus hos reget artusad quid agendum? ait uxor burgoma-
gistri.
Peregrinus illi non respondit. Votum faciebat tunc temporis
sancto Nicolao, quo facto, sinum dextram inserens, e qu negli-
genter pependit acinaces, lento gradu processit per plateam Ar-
gentorati latam qu ad diversorium templo ex adversum ducit.
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 223
It is well worth it, gentle stranger, replied the centinel.
Tis not worth a single stiver, said the bandy-legd drum-
mertis a nose of parchment.
As I am a true catholicexcept that it is six times as bigtis
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-leggd drummer, we did not
both touch it!
At the very time that this dispute was maintaining by the
centinel and the drummerwas the same point debating
betwixt a trumpeter and a trumpeters 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 trum-
peters 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 puddings endsaid his wife.
I tell thee again, said the trumpeter, tis a brazen nose.
Ill know the bottom of it, said the trumpeters wife, for I will
touch it with my finger before I sleep.
The strangers 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 trumpeters wife.
No! said he, dropping his reins upon his mules 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 beenas to give it that
convictionno! said he, my nose shall never be touched whilst
heaven gives me strengthTo do what? said a burgomasters
wife.
The stranger took no notice of the burgomasters 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,
224 VOL. IV
Peregrinus mulo descendens stabulo includi, & manticam
inferri jussit: qu apert et coccineis sericis femoralibus extractis
cum argenteo laciniato , 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 estexuit se ves-
tibus; braccas coccineas sericas mantic 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! respondit 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 contemplan-
turPer sanctos, sanctasque omnes, ait hospitis uxor, nasis
duodecim maximis, in toto Argentorato major est!estne ait
illa mariti in aurem insusurrans, nonne est nasus prgrandis?
Dolus inest, anime mi, ait hospesnasus est falsus.
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 225
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-sattin breeches, with
a silver-fringed(appendage to them, which I dare not trans-
late)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 trumpeters wife at the opposite side of
itso turning short, in pain lest his nose should be attempted,
he instantly went back to his innundressed himself, packed
up his crimson-sattin breeches, &c. in his cloak-bag, and called
for his mule.
I am going forwards, said the stranger, for Frankfortand
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 mineit has carried
me and my cloak-bag, continued he, tapping the mules 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
mans 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 strangers noseBy saint Radagunda, said the
inn-keepers 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 inntis a
false nose.
226 VOL. IV
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,& si ipsa vivam tangam.
Votum feci sancto Nicolao, ait peregrinus, nasum meum
intactum fore usque adQuodnam tempus? illico respondit
illa.
Minime tangetur, inquit ille (manibus in pectus compositis)
usque ad illam horamQuam horam? ait illa.Nullam,
respondit peregrinus, donec pervenio, adQuem locum,
obsecro? ait illaPeregrinus nil respondens mulo conscenso
discessit.
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 227
Tis a true nose, said his wife.
Tis made of fir-tree, said he,I smell the turpentine.
Theres 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-keepers
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 tillHere the stranger, sus-
pending his voice, looked upTill when? said she hastily.
It never shall be touched, said he, clasping his hands and
bringing them close to his breast, till that hourWhat hour?
cried the inn-keepers wife.Never!never! said the
stranger, never till I am gotFor 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 emthe city
was like a swarm of beesmen, women, and children (the
Compline-bells tinkling all the time) flying here and therein
at one door, out at anotherthis way and that waylong ways
and cross waysup one street, down another streetin at this
ally, out at thatdid you see it? did you see it? did you see
it? O! did you see it?who saw it? who did see it? for mercys
sake, who saw it?
Alack oday! I was at vespers!I was washing, I was starch-
ing, I was scouring, I was quiltingGOD help me! I never
saw itI never touchd it!would I had been a centinel, a
bandy-legd drummer, a trumpeter, a trumpeters 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 affairtalking all the way he rode in
broken sentences, sometimes to his mulesometimes to himself
sometimes to his Julia.
228 VOL. IV
O Julia, my lovely Julia!nay I cannot stop to let thee bite
that thistlethat 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 thistlenever mind itthou
shalt have a better supper at night.
Banishd from my countrymy friendsfrom thee.
Poor devil, thourt sadly tired with thy journey!comeget
on a little fastertheres nothing in my cloak-bag but two
shirtsa crimson-sattin pair of breeches, and a fringedDear
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 stepwhy at this
rate we shall be all night in getting in
To happinessor am I to be the sport of fortune and
slanderdestined to be driven forth unconvictedunheard
untouchedif so, why did I not stay at Strasburg, where
justicebut I had sworn!Come, thou shalt drinkto St.
NicolasO Julia!What dost thou prick up thy ears
at?tis nothing but a man, &c.
The stranger rode on communing in this manner with his
mule and Juliatill he arrived at his inn, where, as soon as he
arrived, he alightedsaw his mule, as he had promised it, taken
good care oftook off his cloak-bag, with his crimson-sattin
breeches, &c. in itcalled for an omelet to his supper, went
to his bed about twelve oclock, 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 bedsbut not like the stranger, for the rest
either of their minds or bodies; queen Mab, like an elf as she
was, had taken the strangers 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 Quedlingberg,
who, with the four great dignitaries of her chapter, the prioress,
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 229
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 holeswas ill all the night.
The courteous strangers 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 themin short, they
got up like so many ghosts.
The penitentiaries of the third order of saint Francis
the nuns of mount Calvarythe Prmonstratensesthe
Clunienses*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 Quedlingbergby tumbling
and tossing, and tossing and tumbling from one side of their
beds to the other the whole night longthe several sisterhoods
had scratchd and mawld themselves all to deaththey got out
of their beds almost flead aliveevery body thought saint
Antony had visited them for probation with his firethey
had never once, in short, shut their eyes the whole night long
from vespers to matins.
The nuns of saint Ursula acted the wisestthey 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 butterd buns) all wished they had followed the
nuns of saint Ursulas example.In the hurry and confusion
every thing had been in the night before, the bakers had all
forgot to lay their leaventhere were no butterd buns to be
had for breakfast in all Strasburgthe whole close of the
cathedral was in one eternal commotionsuch a cause of rest-
lessness 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.
* Hafen Slawkenbergius means the Benedictine nuns of Cluny, founded in
the year 940, by Odo, abb de Cluny.
230 VOL. IV
If the strangers nose took this liberty of thrusting itself thus
into the dishes* of religious orders, &c. what a carnival did his
nose make of it, in those of the laity!tis more than my
pen, worn to the stump as it is, has power to describe; tho I
acknowledge, (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 lifetho 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 generalsuch an overpowering mastership
had it got of all the faculties of the Strasburgers mindsso
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 itevery soul, good and badrich and
poorlearned and unlearneddoctor and studentmistress
and maidgentle and simplenuns flesh and womans flesh
in Strasburg spent their time in hearing tidings about itevery
eye in Strasburg languished to see itevery fingerevery
thumb in Strasburg burned to touch it.
Now what might add, if any thing may be thought necessary
to add to so vehement a desirewas this, that the centinel, the
bandy-leggd drummer, the trumpeter, the trumpeters wife, the
burgo-masters widow, the master of the inn, and the master of
the inns wife, how widely soever they all differed every one from
another in their testimonies and descriptions of the strangers
nosethey all agreed together in two pointsnamely, 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
* Mr. Shandys compliments to oratorsis very sensible that Slawken-
bergius has here changed his metaphorwhich he is very guilty of;that as a
translator, Mr. Shandy has all along done what he could to make him stick to
itbut that here twas impossible.
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 23
paragons of beautythe finest made man!the most gen-
teel !the most generous of his pursethe most courteous in
his carriage that had ever entered the gates of Strasburgthat
as he rode, with his scymetar slung loosely to his wrist, thro the
streetsand walked with his crimson-sattin breeches across the
paradetwas with so sweet an air of careless modesty, and so
manly withalas 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
Quedlingberg, the prioress, the deaness and subchantress for
sending at noon-day for the trumpeters wife: she went through
the streets of Strasburg with her husbands trumpet in her
hand;the best apparatus the straitness of the time would allow
her, for the illustration of her theoryshe staid no longer than
three days.
The centinel and the bandy-leggd 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 porticos.
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-yardhis wife, hers more privately in a back room: all
flocked to their lectures; not promiscuouslybut to this or that,
as is ever the way, as faith and credulity marshald themin a
word, each Strasburger came crouding for intelligenceand
every Strasburger had the intelligence he wanted.
Tis worth remarking, for the benefit of all demonstrators in
natural philosophy, &c. that as soon as the trumpeters wife
had finished the abbess of Quedlinbergs private lecture, and
had begun to read in public, which she did upon a stool in
the middle of the great paradeshe incommoded the other
demonstrators mainly, by gaining incontinently the most
fashionable part of the city of Strasburg for her auditoryBut
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?
232 VOL. IV
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 courtwere the learned in their
way as busy in pumping her up thro the conduits of dialect
inductionthey concerned themselves not with factsthey
reasoned
Not one profession had thrown more light upon this subject
than the facultyhad not all their disputes about it run into
the affair of Wens and dematous swellings, they could not
keep clear of them for their bloods and soulsthe strangers
nose had nothing to do either with wens or dematous
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 ftus, and throw-
ing it plump upon its head nine months before the time.
The opponents granted the theorythey denied the conse-
quences.
And if a suitable provision of veins, arteries, &c. said they,
was not laid in, for the due nourishment of such a nose, in the
very first stamina and rudiments of its formation before it
came into the world (bating the case of Wens) it could not
regularly grow and be sustained afterwards.
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 imaginableIn 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 lungsFor 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 sanguificationit could poss-
ibly work off no more, than what the appetite brought it: or
admitting the possibility of a mans overloading his stomach,
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 233
nature had set bounds however to his lungsthe engine was of
a determined size and strength, and could elaborate but a certain
quantity in a given timethat 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 manthey 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
opponentselse what do you say to the case of a whole
stomacha whole pair of lungs, and but half a man, when both
his legs have been unfortunately shot off ?
He dies of a plethora, said theyor must spit blood, and in
a fortnight or three weeks go off in a consumption
It happens otherwaysreplied 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 geo-
metrical arrangement and proportion of the several parts of the
human frame to its several destinations, offices, and functions,
which could not be transgressed but within certain limits
that nature, though she sportedshe 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 bloodbut blood circulating in it to supply the
phnomenon with a succession of drops(a stream being but
a quicker succession of drops, that is included, said he)Now
death, continued the logician, being nothing but the stagnation
of the blood
234 VOL. IV
I deny the definitionDeath is the separation of the soul
from the body, said his antagonistThen we dont agree about
our weapon, said the logicianThen 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 decreethan a dispute.
Such a monstrous nose, said they, had it been a true nose,
could not possibly have been suffered in civil societyand if
falseto impose upon society with such false signs and tokens,
was a still greater violation of its rights, and must have had still
less mercy shewn it.
The only objection to this was, that if it proved any thing, it
proved the strangers 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, &c. &c.To this it was answered, it was
impossible there should be such a place as the Promontory of
Noses, and the learned be ignorant where it lay. The commissary
of the bishop of Strasburg undertook the advocates, ex-
plained this matter in a treatise upon proverbial phrases, shew-
ing 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 authorities*, which had decided the point
incontestably, had it not appeared that a dispute about some
* Nonnulli ex nostratibus eadem loquendi formul utun. Quinimo et Legist
& CanonistVid. Parce Bar & Jas in d. L. Provincial. Constitut. de conjec.
vid. Vol. Lib. 4. Titul. . N. 7. qu etiam in re conspir. Om. de Promontorio
Nas. Tichmak. ff. d. tit. 3. fol. 89. passim. Vid. Glos. de contrahend. empt.
&c. nec non J. Scrudr. in cap. . refut. ff. per totum. cum his cons. Rever. J.
Tubal, Sentent. & Prov. cap. 9. ff. , 2. obiter. V. et Librum, cui Tit. de
Terris & Phras. Belg. ad finem, cum Comment. N. Bardy Belg. Vid. Scrip.
Argentoratens. de Antiq. Ecc. in Episc. Archiv. fid. coll. per Von Jacobum
Koinshoven Folio Argent. 583, prcip. ad finem. Quibus add. Rebuff in L.
obvenire de Signif. Nom. ff. fol. & de Jure, Gent. & Civil. de prohib. aliena
feud. per federa, test. Joha. Luxius in prolegom. quem velim videas, de Analy.
Cap. , 2, 3. Vid. Idea.
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 235
franchises of dean and chapter-lands had been determined by it
nineteen years before.
It happenedI must not say unluckily for Truth, because
they were giving her a lift another way in so doing; that the two
universities of Strasburgthe Lutheran, founded in the year
538 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 Quedlinburgs
placket-holes required)in determining the point of Martin
Luthers damnation.
The Popish doctors had undertaken to demonstrate a priori;
that from the necessary influence of the planets on the twenty-
second day of October 483when the moon was in
the twelfth houseJupiter, 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 damnd man
and that his doctrines, by a direct corollary, must be damnd
doctrines too.
By inspection into his horoscope, where five planets were in
coition all at once with scorpio* (in reading this my father
would always shake his head) in the ninth house which the
Arabians allotted to religionit appeared that Martin Luther
did not care one stiver about the matterand that from the
horoscope directed to the conjunction of Marsthey made it
plain likewise he must die cursing and blasphemingwith the
blast of which his soul (being steepd 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,
483, which was forced to sail down before the wind in that
* Hc mira, satisque horrenda. 5 Planetarum coitio sub Scorpio Asterismo
in non cli statione, quam Arabes religioni deputabant effecit Martinum
Lutherum sacrilegum hereticum, christian religiosinis hostem acerrimum
atque prophanum, ex horoscopi directione ad Martis coitum, religiosissimus
obiit, ejus Anima scelestissima ad infernos navigavitab Alecto, Tisiphone et
Megera flagellis igneis cruciata perenniter.
Lucas Gauricus in Tractatu astrologico de prteritis multorum hominum
accidentibus per genituras examinatis.
236 VOL. IV
mannerinasmuch as it appeared from the register of Islaben
in the county of Mansfelt, that Luther was not born in the year
483, but in 84; and not on the 22d day of October, but on the
0th 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 QuedlinburgIt is to tell the reader, that my
father never read this passage of Slawkenbergius to my uncle
Toby but with triumphnot over my uncle Toby, for he never
opposed him in itbut 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 eternityNot that I look upon Martin,
he would add, as a good namefar from ittis something
better than a neutral, and but a littleyet 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 shew himyet 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
Slawkenbergiuss Decads full as entertaining as this I am trans-
lating, yet there is not one amongst them which my father read
over with half the delightit flattered two of his strangest
hypotheses togetherhis NAMES and his NOSESI 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 Luthers 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;
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 237
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 strangers nose, had
not the size of the strangers nose drawn off the attention of the
world from what they were aboutit was their business to
follow.
The abbess of Quedlinburg and her four dignitaries was no
stop; for the enormity of the strangers nose running full as
much in their fancies as their case of conscienceThe affair
of their placket-holes kept coldIn a word, the printers
were ordered to distribute their typesall controversies
droppd.
Twas a square cap with a silk tassel upon the crown of it
to a nut shellto 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.
Gods 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 sows ear,
replied the Antinosarians.
He can make two and two five, replied the Popish
doctors.Tis false, said their opponents.
Infinite power is infinite power, said the doctors who main-
tained 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 Antinosarians
denied that a nose of 575 geometrical feet in length could be
238 VOL. IV
worn, at least by a middle-sizd manThe Popish doctors swore
it couldThe 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 GodThat controversy led them naturally into
Thomas Aquinas, and Thomas Aquinas to the devil.
The strangers nose was no more heard of in the dispute
it just served as a frigate to launch them into the gulph of
school-divinity,and then they all sailed before the wind.
Heat is in proportion to the want of true knowledge.
The controversy about the attributes, &c. instead of cooling,
on the contrary had inflamed the Strasburgers imaginations to
a most inordinate degreeThe less they understood of the
matter, the greater was their wonder about itthey were left in
all the distresses of desire unsatisfiedsaw their doctors, the
Parchmentarians, the Brassarians, the Turpentarians, on one
sidethe 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 delaythe uproar increased
every one in disorderthe city gates set open.
Unfortunate Strasburgers! was there in the store-house of
naturewas there in the lumber-rooms of learningwas 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 your-
selvestis to write your panegyrick. Shew me a city so macer-
ated with expectationwho 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
5000 single horse chairs20000 waggons, crouded as full
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 239
as they could all hold with senators, counsellors, syndicks
beguines, widows, wives, virgins, canons, concubines, all in
their coachesThe abbess of Quedlinburg, 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-handthe rest following higglety-
pigglety as they could; some on horsebacksome on foot
some ledsome drivensome down the Rhinesome this
waysome thatall set out at sun-rise to meet the courteous
stranger on the road.
Haste we now towards the catastrophe of my taleI say
Catastrophe (cries Slawkenbergius) inasmuch as a tale, with
parts rightly disposed, not only rejoiceth (gaudet) in the Catas-
trophe and Peripeitia of a DRAMA, but rejoiceth moreover in
all the essential and integrant parts of itit has its Protasis,
Epitasis, 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 Slawken-
bergius, but be kept to a mans self.
In all my ten tales, in all my ten decads, have I, Slawken-
bergius, 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-sattin pair of
breeches, is the Protasis or first entrancewhere the charac-
ters of the Person Dramatis are just touched in, and the subject
slightly begun.
The Epitasis, 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
nights uproar about the nose, to the conclusion of the trum-
peters wifes 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 Stras-
burgers upon the beach in distress, is the Catastasis or the
ripening of the incidents and passions for their bursting forth in
the fifth act.
240 VOL. IV
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 taleand that is the part of it I am going to
relate.
We left the stranger behind the curtain asleephe enters now
upon the stage.
What dost thou prick up thy ears at?tis nothing but a
man upon a horsewas the last word the stranger uttered to
his mule. It was not proper then to tell the reader, that the mule
took his masters 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 Stras-
burg that nightWhat a fool am I, said the traveller to himself,
when he had rode about a league farther, to think of getting
into Strasburg this nightStrasburg!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 halftis too much
better go back to the last inn I have passedthan lie I know not
whereor give I know not what. The traveller, as he made
these reflections in his mind, turned his horses 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 oclock this night had three eggs in itbut 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 bedI 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 noseHe has got a
defluxion, said the travellerNot that I know, cried the host
But tis a camp-bed, and Jacinta, said he, looking towards the
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 24
maid, imagined there was not room in it to turn his nose in
Why so? cried the traveller starting backIt is so long a nose,
replied the hostThe traveller fixed his eyes upon Jacinta, then
upon the groundkneeled upon his right kneehad just got
his hand laid upon his breastTrifle not with my anxiety, said
he, rising up againTis no trifle, said Jacinta, tis the most
glorious nose!The traveller fell upon his knee againlaid
his hand upon his breastthen said he, looking up to heaven!
thou hast conducted me to the end of my pilgrimageTis
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 lovers thorny tracks.
Julia had sunk under itand had not been able to go a
step farther than to Lyons, where, with the many disquie-
tudes of a tender heart, which all talk ofbut few feelshe
sickend, 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 brothers 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 enterd his chamber, and discharged his sisters
commission.
The letter was as follows:
Seig. DIEGO.
Whether my suspicions of your nose were justly excited or
nottis not now to inquireit 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
242 VOL. IV
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 thismy 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 youin what frantic haste she flew to her lattice, and how
many days and nights together she leaned immoveably upon her
elbow, looking thro it towards the way which Diego was wont
to come.
He will tell you, when she heard of your departurehow
her spirits deserted herhow her heart sickendhow pit-
eously she mourndhow low she hung her head. O Diego!
how many weary steps has my brothers pity led me by the
hand languishing to trace out yours! how far has desire carried
me beyond strengthand how oft have I fainted by the way,
and sunk into his arms, with only power to cry outO 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 mehaste as
you will, you will arrive but to see me expire.Tis a bitter
draught, Diego, but oh! tis embitterd still more by dying
un.
She could proceed no farther.
Slawkenbergius supposes the word intended was uncon-
vinced, but her strength would not enable her to finish her
letter.
The heart of the courteous Diego overflowed as he read the
letterhe ordered his mule forthwith and Fernandezs horse to
be saddled; and as no vent in prose is equal to that of poetry in
such conflictschance, which as often directs us to remedies as
to diseases, having thrown a piece of charcoal into the
windowDiego availed himself of it, and whilst the ostler was
getting ready his mule, he eased his mind against the wall as
follows.
SLAWKENBERGIUSS TALE 243
ODE.
Harsh and untuneful are the notes of love,
Unless my Julia strikes the key,
Her hand alone can touch the part,
Whose dulcet move-
ment charms the heart,
And governs all the man with sympathetic sway.
2d.
O Julia!
The lines were very naturalfor 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 versesor the ostler quick in saddling mulesis
not averred; certain it was, that Diegos mule and Fernandezs
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 strongestthe Stras-
burgers 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 homeWhen 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 Slawkenberg-
ius, 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
244 VOL. IV
manuscript into the hands of Lewis the fourteenth, in the year
664.
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
Germanyand 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 revolutionsThe vulgar look too high for them
Statesmen look too lowTruth (for once) lies in the middle.
What a fatal thing is the popular pride of a free city! cries one
historianThe Strasburgers deemed it a diminution of their
freedom to receive an imperial garrisonand 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 moneyThey anticipated their
revenuesbrought 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 Frenchtwas
CURIOSITY pushed them openThe French indeed, who are
ever upon the catch, when they saw the Strasburgers, men,
women, and children, all marched out to follow the strangers
noseeach man followed his own, and marched in.
Trade and manufactures have decayed and gradually grown
down ever sincebut 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 exclamationit
is not the firstand I fear will not be the last fortress that has
been either wonor lost by NOSES.
The END of
Slawkenbergiuss TALE.
CHAP. I 245
CHAP. I.
W
ITH all this learning upon Noses running perpetually in
my fathers fancywith so many family prejudicesand
ten decads of such tales running on for ever along with them
how was it possible with such exquisitewas it a true nose?
That a man with such exquisite feelings as my father had, could
bear the shock at all below stairsor indeed above stairs, in
any other posture, but the very posture I have described.
Throw yourself down upon the bed, a dozen timestaking
care only to place a looking-glass first in a chair on one side of
it, before you do itBut was the strangers 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 throtwould 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 INTRI CACI ES
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 Slawkenbergiuss tales, and the exquisitiveness of
his moral should please the worldtranslated shall a couple of
volumes be.Else, how this can ever be translated into good
246 VOL. IV
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
acknowledgment.Theres often no good understanding
betwixt em.I felt as if I understood it.I had no ideas.
The movement could not be without cause.Im 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
otherbut to look into the pupilsis not that dangerous?
But it cant be avoidedfor to look up to the cieling, in that
case the two chins unavoidably meetand to look down into
each others laps, the foreheads come into immediate contact,
which at once puts an end to the conferenceI mean to the
sentimental part of it.What is left, madam, is not worth
stooping for.
CHAP. II.
M
Y 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 Tobys 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 feelinghe thrust it a little more
within the valancedrew up his hand, when he had done, into
his bosomgave 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
CHAP. IIIV 247
worse, he contented himself with resting his chin placidly upon
the cross of his crutch.
Now whether the compression shortened my uncle Tobys
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.
D
ID ever man, brother Toby, cried my father, raising himself
up upon his elbow, and turning himself round to the oppo-
site side of the bed where my uncle Toby was sitting in his old
fringed chair, with his chin resting upon his crutchdid 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 beds head for Trim) was to a
grenadier, I think in Makays regiment.
Had my uncle Toby shot a bullet thro my fathers heart,
he could not have fallen down with his nose upon the quilt more
suddenly.
Bless me! said my uncle Toby.
CHAP. IV.
W
AS it Makays regiment, quoth my uncle Toby, where the
poor grenadier was so unmercifully whippd at Bruges
about the ducats.O Christ! he was innocent! cried Trim with a
deep sigh.And he was whippd, may it please your honour,
almost to deaths door.They had better have shot him outright
248 VOL. IV
as he beggd, 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 Toms 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 spoketo think of two virtuous lads with hearts
as warm in their bodies, and as honest as God could make
themthe children of honest people, going forth with gallant
spirits to seek their fortunes in the worldand fall into such
evils!poor Tom! to be tortured upon a rack for nothing
but marrying a Jews widow who sold sausageshonest Dick
Johnsons soul to be scourged out of his body, for the ducats
another man put into his knapsack!O!these are misfor-
tunes, cried Trim, pulling out his handkerchiefthese are mis-
fortunes, 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 ownthou feelest it so tenderly
for others.Alack-o-day, replied the corporal, brightening up
his faceyour 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 agewhen thou art passed all
services, Trim,and hast out-lived thy friendsAn please
your honour, never fear, replied Trim chearilyBut I would
have thee never fear, Trim, replied my uncle; and therefore,
continued my uncle Toby, throwing down his crutch, and get-
ting up upon his legs as he uttered the word thereforein
recompence, Trim, of thy long fidelity to me, and that goodness
of thy heart I have had such proofs ofwhilst thy master is
worth a shillingthou shalt never ask elsewhere, Trim, for a
penny. Trim attempted to thank my uncle Toby,but had not
CHAP. IVVI 249
powertears trickled down his cheeks faster than he could
wipe them offHe laid his hands upon his breastmade a
bow to the ground, and shut the door.
I have left Trim my bowling-green, cried my uncle Toby
My father smiledI have left him moreover a pension, con-
tinued my uncle TobyMy father looked grave.
CHAP. V.
I
S this a fit time, said my father to himself, to talk of PENSIONS
and GRENADIERS ?
CHAP. VI.
W
HEN 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 anotherlike the prep-
aration 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 floorpushed the chamber-pot still a
little farther within the valancegave a hemraised himself
up upon his elbowand was just beginning to address himself
to my uncle Tobywhen 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
250 VOL. IV
in the palm of his left, and stooping a little, he addressed himself
to my uncle Toby as follows.
CHAP. VII.
W
HEN 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 troublewhen 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 inheritanceI was born to
nothing, quoth my uncle Toby, interrupting my fatherbut
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.Thats another
concern, said my father testilyBut I say, Toby, when one runs
over the catalogue of all the cross reckonings and sorrow-
ful 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 togethertis not from our own strength,
brother Shandya 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 itfor he holds the fore-finger of his
left-hand between the fore-finger and the thumb of his right,
CHAP. VIIVIII 25
and seems as if he was saying to the libertine he is reclaiming
You grant me thisand this: and this, and this, I dont ask of
youthey 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 bobsO 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.
T
HOUGH man is of all others the most curious vehicle,
said my father, yet at the same time tis of so slight a frame
and so totteringly put together, that the sudden jerks and hard
jostlings it unavoidably meets with in this rugged journey, would
overset and tear it to pieces a dozen times a daywas it not,
brother Toby, that there is a secret spring within usWhich
spring, said my uncle Toby, I take to be Religion.Will that set
my childs nose on? cried my father, letting go his finger, and
striking one hand against the otherIt makes every thing
straight for us, answered my uncle TobyFiguratively speak-
ing, 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 cant prevent the shockat
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, unmartyrd in that precious part of
himfanciful 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
conductsheaven is witness! that in the warmest transports of
my wishes for the prosperity of my child, I never once wished
252 VOL. IV
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
himI must counteract and undo it with the greatest good.
He shall be christened Trismegistus, brother.
I wish it may answerreplied my uncle Toby, rising up.
CHAP. IX.
W
HAT a chapter of chances, said my father, turning him-
self about upon the first landing, as he and my uncle Toby
were going down stairswhat 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 fairlyI 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 meer chance, said my uncle TobyThen it
adds one to the chapterreplied my father.
The double success of my fathers repartees tickled off the
pain of his shin at onceit was well it so fell out(chance!
again)or the world to this day had never known the subject
of my fathers calculationto guess itthere 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 anew already upon my hands without itHave 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
thata chapter upon my uncle Tobys modesty? to say nothing
of a chapter upon chapters, which I will finish before I sleep
by my great grandfathers whiskers, I shall never get half of em
through this year.
Take pen and ink in hand, and calculate it fairly, brother
CHAP. IXX 253
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 TobyI dont
comprehend, said my fatherSuppose the hip had presented,
replied my uncle Toby, as Dr. Slop foreboded.
My father reflected half a minutelooked downtouched
the middle of his forehead slightly with his finger
True, said he.
CHAP. X.
I
S 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 medrop the
curtain, ShandyI drop itStrike a line here across the
paper, TristramI strike itand hey for a new chapter!
The duce of any other rule have I to govern myself by in this
affairand if I had oneas I do all things out of all ruleI
would twist it and tear it to pieces, and throw it into the fire
when I had doneAm I warm? I am, and the cause demands
ita pretty story! is a man to follow rulesor 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 layd 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
horsethat chapters relieve the mindthat they assist
or impose upon the imaginationand that in a work of this
254 VOL. IV
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 Dianas templeyou must read Longinusread
awayif you are not a jot the wiser by reading him the first
time overnever fearread him againAvicenna and
Licetus, read Aristotles metaphysicks forty times through a
piece, and never understood a single word.But mark the
consequenceAvicenna turned out a desperate writer at all
kinds of writingfor he wrote books de omni scribili; and for
Licetus (Fortunio) though all the world knows he was born a
ftus*, 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 himselfthe 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.
* Ce Ftus netoit pas plus grand que la pame de la main; mais son pere
layant xamin en qualit de Mdecin, & ayant trouv que cetoit quelque
chose de plus quun Embryon, le fit transporter tout vivant Rapallo, ou il le
fit voir Jerme Bardi & dautres Medecins du lieu. On trouva quil ne lui
manquoit rien dessentiel a la vie; & son pere pour faire voir un essai de son
exprience, entreprit dachever louvrage de la Nature, & de travailler a la
formation de lEnfant avec le mme artifice que celui dont on se sert pour faire
clorre les Poulets en Egypte. Il instruisit une Nourrisse de tout ce quelle avoit
faire, & ayant fait mettre son fils dans un four proprement accommod, il
reussit llever et a lui faire prendre ses accroissemens necessaires, par luni-
formit dune chaleur trangre mesure xactement sur les dgrs dun Ther-
momtre, ou dun autre instrument quivalent. (Vide Mich. Giustinian, ne gli
Scritt. Liguri Cart. 223. 488.)
On auroit toujours t trs-satisfait de lindustrie dun Pere si experiment
dans lArt de la Generation, quand il nauroit p prolonger la vie a son fils que
pour quelques mois, ou pour peu dannes.
Mais quand on se represente que lEnfant a vecu pres de quatre-vingts ans,
& que il a compos quatre-vingts Ouvrages differents tous fruits dune longue
lecture,il faut convenir que tout ce qui est incroyable nest pas toujours faux,
& que la Vraisemblance nest pas toujours du cot de la Verit.
Il navoit que dix-neuf ans lors quil composa Gonopsychanthropologia de
Origine Anim human.
(Les Enfans celebres, revs & corriges par M. De la Monnoye de lAcademie
Franoise.)
CHAP. XIXII 255
CHAP. XI.
W
E shall bring all things to rights, said my father, setting
his foot upon the first step from the landingThis
Trismegistus, continued my father, drawing his leg back, and
turning to my uncle Tobywas the greatest (Toby) of all earthly
beingshe was the greatest kingthe greatest lawgiver
the greatest philosopherand the greatest priestand
engineersaid my uncle Toby.
In course, said my father.
CHAP. XII.

A
ND 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 handhow does your mistress? As
well, said Susannah, tripping by, but without looking up, as can
be expectedWhat a fool am I, said my father! drawing his leg
back againlet things be as they will, brother Toby, tis ever
the precise answerAnd how is the child, pray?No answer.
And where is doctor Slop? added my father, raising his voice
aloud, and looking over the ballustersSusannah 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 Tobyof 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 Jobs stock
of asses could have carriedthere is not one that has more
intricacies in it than thisthat from the very moment the mis-
tress of the house is brought to bed, every female in it, from my
ladys 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.
256 VOL. IV
I think rather, replied my uncle Toby, that tis we who sink
an inch lower.If I meet but a woman with childI do it
Tis a heavy tax upon that half of our fellow-creatures, brother
Shandy, said my uncle TobyTis a piteous burden upon em,
continued he, shaking his head.Yes, yes, tis a painful thing
said my father, shaking his head toobut certainly since shak-
ing of heads came into fashion, never did two heads shake
together, in concert, from two such different springs.
God bless em allsaid my uncle Toby and my father,
Duce take
}
each to himself.
CHAP. XIII.
H
OLLA!you chairman!heres sixpencedo step
into that booksellers 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-bootsand which,
by the bye, did my father no sort of good upon the score of the
bad hingethey 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 presentan observation never applicable
before to any one biographical writer since the creation of
the world, but to myselfand I believe will never hold good to
any other, until its final destructionand 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
twelve-month; and having got, as you perceive, almost into the
CHAP. XIII 257
middle of my fourth volumeand no farther than to my first
days lifetis 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 iton the contrary, I am
just thrown so many volumes backwas every day of my life
to be as busy a day as thisAnd why not?and the transactions
and opinions of it to take up as much descriptionAnd for
what reason should they be cut short? as at this rate I should
just live 364 times faster than I should writeIt must follow,
an please your worships, that the more I write, the more I shall
have to writeand 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 I shall lead a fine life of it out
of this self-same life of mine; or, in other words, shall lead a
couple of fine lives together.
As for the proposal of twelve volumes a year, or a volume a
month, it no way alters my prospectwrite as I will, and rush
as I may into the middle of things, as Horace advises,I shall
never overtake myselfwhippd and driven to the last pinch,
at the worst I shall have one day the start of my penand one
day is enough for two volumesand two volumes will be
enough for one year.
Heaven prosper the manufactures of paper under this pro-
pitious reign, which is now opend to us,as I trust its provi-
dence will prosper every thing else in it that is taken in hand.
As for the propagation of GeeseI give myself no concern
Nature is all bountifulI 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 droppd a curtain at the stairs footI thought you
had no other way for itHeres a crown for your trouble.
258 VOL. IV
CHAP. XIV.

T
HEN reach me my breeches off the chair, said my father
to SusannahThere is not a moments time to dress
you, Sir, cried Susannahthe child is as black in the face as
myAs your, what? said my father, for like all orators, he was
a dear searcher into comparisonsBless me, Sir, said Su-
sannah, the childs in a fitAnd wheres Mr. YorickNever
where he should be, said Susannah, but his curates in the
dressing-room, with the child upon his arm, waiting for the
nameand 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 notand twould be a pity, in such a case,
to throw away so great a name as Trismegistus upon himBut
he may recover.
No, no,said my father to Susannah, Ill get upThere
is no time, cried Susannah, the childs as black as my shoe.
Trismegistus, said my fatherBut staythou art a leaky vessel,
Susannah, added my father; canst thou carry Trismegistus in
thy head, the length of the gallery without scatteringCan I?
cried Susannah, shutting the door in a huffIf she can, Ill 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 itTis Trissomething,
cried SusannahThere is no christian name in the world, said
the curate, beginning with Trisbut Tristram. Then tis Tris-
tram-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 bason
Tristram! said he, &c. &c. &c. &c. 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
CHAP. XIVXV 259
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 doorNo, no, said the curate, with a tone of intelligence
And the child is better, cried SusannahAnd how does your
mistress? As well, said Susannah, as can be expectedPish!
said my father, the button of his breeches slipping out of the
button-holeSo that whether the interjection was levelled at
Susannah, or the button-hole,whether pish was an interjec-
tion 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
favorite chapters, that is, my chapter of chamber-maidsmy
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 whiskd 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
drawnthe candles put outand no creatures eyes are open
but a single one, for the other has been shut these twenty years,
of my mothers 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
emand trust me, when I get amongst emYou gentry with
great beardslook as grave as you willIll make merry work
with my button-holesI shall have em all to myselftis a
CHAP. XV 26
maiden subjectI shall run foul of no mans wisdom or fine
sayings in it.
But for sleepI know I shall make nothing of it before I
beginI am no dab at your fine sayings in the first placeand
in the next, I cannot for my soul set a grave face upon a bad
matter, and tell the worldtis the refuge of the unfortunate
the enfranchisement of the prisonerthe downy lap of the
hopeless, the weary and the broken-hearted; nor could I set out
with a lye in my mouth, by affirming, that of all the soft and
delicious functions of our nature, by which the great Author
of it, in his bounty, has been pleased to recompence the suf-
ferings 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 herno desireor fearor doubt that troubles the
air, nor any difficulty passd, present, or to come, that the
imagination may not pass over without offence, in that sweet
secession.
Gods blessing, said Sancho Panca, be upon the man
who first invented this self-same thing called sleepit 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 squeezd out of the heads of the learned together
upon the subject.
Not that I altogether disapprove of what Montaigne
advances upon ittis 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 byWe
should study and ruminate upon it, in order to render proper
thanks to him who grants it to usfor this end I cause myself
to be disturbed in my sleep, that I may the better and more
sensibly relish itAnd 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 agitationI evade of late all
262 VOL. IV
violent exercisesI am never weary with walkingbut from
my youth, I never liked to ride upon pavements. I love to lie
hard and alone, and even without my wifeThis last word may
stagger the faith of the worldbut remember, La Vraisemb-
lance (as Baylet says in the affair of Liceti) nest pas toujours du
Cot de la Verit. And so much for sleep.
CHAP. XVI.
I
F my wife will but venture himbrother Toby, Trismegistus
shall be dressd 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 Tobys
face for some timewe shall have a devilish month of it, brother
Toby, said my father, setting his arms a-kimbo, and shaking his
head; fire, water, women, windbrother Toby!Tis some
misfortune, quoth my uncle TobyThat it is, cried my father,
to have so many jarring elements breaking loose, and riding
triumph in every corner of a gentlemans houseLittle 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 whats the matter, Susannah? They have called the
child Tristramand my mistress is just got out of an hysterick
fit about itNo!tis not my fault, said SusannahI told him
it was Tristram-gistus.
Make tea for yourself, brother Toby, said my father,
taking down his hatbut how different from the sallies and
agitations of voice and members which a common reader would
imagine!
For he spake in the sweetest modulationand took down
CHAP. XVIXVII 263
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.
W
HEN the misfortune of my NOSE fell so heavily upon
my fathers 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 pack-
age 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 devils 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 snatchd off my wig, and threw it perpendicularly,
with all imaginable violence, up to the top of the roomindeed
I caught it as it fellbut there was an end of the matter; nor do
I think any thing else in Nature, would have given such immedi-
ate ease: She, dear Goddess, by an instantaneous impulse, in
all provoking cases, determines us to a sally of this or that
memberor else she thrusts us into this or that place, or posture
of body, we know not whyBut mark, madam, we live amongst
riddles and mysteriesthe 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 under-
standings amongst us find ourselves puzzled and at a loss in
almost every cranny of natures 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
264 VOL. IV
your reverences and your worshipsand thats enough for us.
Now, my father could not lie down with this affliction for his
lifenor could he carry it up stairs like the otherHe 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 gonereason, with all her force,
could not have directed him to any thing like it: there is some-
thing, Sir, in fish-pondsbut what it is, I leave to system builders
and fish pond diggers betwixt em to find outbut 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 lawgivers, ever gave order about them.
CHAP. XVIII.
Y
OUR honour, said Trim, shutting the parlour door before
he began to speak, has heard, I imagine, of this unlucky
accidentO yes, Trim! said my uncle Toby, and it gives me
great concernI 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 meTo theeTrim!cried my
uncle Toby, looking kindly in his facetwas Susannahs and
the curates folly betwixt themWhat 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 bowTwo misfortunes, quoth the corporal to him-
self, 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 hereafterTrims
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
CHAP. XVIIIXIX 265
difference betwixt my nephews being called Tristram or Tris-
megistusyet as the thing sits so near my brothers heart,
Trim,I would freely have given a hundred pounds rather than
it should have happenedA hundred pounds, an please your
honour, replied Trim,I would not give a cherry-stone to
bootNor would I, Trim, upon my own account, quoth my
uncle Tobybut my brother, whom there is no arguing with in
this casemaintains 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 Tristramnay he will have
it, Trim, that a man can neither be learned, or wise, or brave
Tis all a fancy, an please your honourI fought just as well,
replied the corporal, when the regiment called me Trim, as when
they called me James ButlerAnd 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 dutyBless 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
chairsOr forces the lines? cried my uncle, rising up, and
pushing his crutch like a pikeOr facing a platoon, cried Trim,
presenting his stick like a firelockOr when he marches up the
glacis, cried my uncle Toby, looking warm and setting his foot
upon his stool.
CHAP. XIX.
M
Y 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 armsnever 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
266 VOL. IV
of my fatherhow 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 corporals
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 FATHERs LAMENTATI ON.
I
T is in vain longer, said my father, addressing himself as much
to Ernulphuss curse, which was laid upon the corner of the
chimney-piece,as to my uncle Toby who sat under itit is in
vain longer, said my father, in the most querulous monotone
imaginable, to struggle as I have done against this most uncom-
fortable of human persuasionsI 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 heavi-
est 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! inter-
ruption! mistake! and discontent! What one misfortune or disas-
ter 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 worldwhat evils in thy
passage into it!What evils since!produced into being, in
the decline of thy fathers dayswhen the powers of his imagin-
ation and of his body were waxing feeblewhen radical heat
and radical moisture, the elements which should have temperd
thine, were drying up; and nothing left to found thy stamina
in, but negationstis pitifulbrother 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,
CHAP. XIX 267
and with which memory, fancy, and quick parts should have
been conveyd,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 leastwhether calm-
ness and serenity of mind in your sister, with a due attention,
brother Toby, to her evacuations and repletionsand the rest
of her non-naturals, might not, in a course of nine months
gestation, have set all things to rights.My child was bereft of
these!What a teazing life did she lead herself, and conse-
quently her ftus too, with that nonsensical anxiety of hers
about lying in in town? I thought my sister submitted with
the greatest patience, replied my uncle TobyI never heard
her utter one fretful word about itShe fumed inwardly,
cried my father; and that, let me tell you, brother, was ten times
worse for the childand then! what battles did she fight with
me, and what perpetual storms about the midwifeThere
she gave vent, said my uncle TobyVent! cried my father,
looking up
But what was all this, my dear Toby, to the injuries done us
by my childs 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 apexthat at this hour tis
ninety per Cent. insurance, that the fine network of the intellec-
tual web be not rent and torn to a thousand tatters.
Still we could have done.Fool, coxcomb, puppy
give him but a NOSECripple, Dwarf, Driviller, Goosecap
(shape him as you will) the door of Fortune stands openO
Licetus! Licetus! had I been blest with a ftus five inches long
and a half, like theefate might have done her worst.
Still, brother Toby, there was one cast of the dye left for our
child after allO Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!
We will send for Mr. Yorick, said my uncle Toby.
You may send for whom you will, replied my father.
268 VOL. IV
CHAP. XX.
W
HAT 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!Ill tread upon no one,quoth I to myself
when I mountedIll take a good rattling gallop; but Ill not
hurt the poorest jack-ass upon the roadSo off I setup one
lanedown another, through this turn-pikeover that, as if
the arch-jockey of jockeys had got behind me.
Now ride at this rate with what good intention and resolution
you may,tis a million to one youll do some one a mischief,
if not yourselfHes flunghes offhes lost his seathes
downhell break his necksee!if he has not galloped full
amongst the scaffolding of the undertaking criticks!hell
knock his brains out against some of their postshes bounced
out!lookhes now riding like a madcap full tilt through a
whole crowd of painters, fiddlers, poets, biographers, phy-
sicians, lawyers, logicians, players, schoolmen, churchmen,
statesmen, soldiers, casuists, connoisseurs, prelates, popes, and
engineersDont fear, said IIll not hurt the poorest jack-ass
upon the kings high-wayBut your horse throws dirt; see
youve splashd a bishopI hope in God, twas only Ernulphus,
said IBut you have squirted full in the faces of Mess. Le
Moyne, De Romigny, and De Marcilly, doctors of the Sor-
bonneThat was last year, replied IBut you have trod this
moment upon a king.Kings have bad times ont, 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 storyAnd what is it? You shall hear in the next chapter.
CHAP. XXI 269
CHAP. XXI.
A
S 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 state*
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 strengthenedThere is no end, Sire,
replied the minister, in giving money to these peoplethey
would swallow up the treasury of FrancePoo! poo! answered
the kingthere are more ways, Mons. le Premier, of bribing
states, besides that of giving moneyIll pay Switzerland the
honour of standing godfather for my next childYour 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 godfatherShe may be
godmother, replied Francis, hastilyso 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 SwitzerlandSire, I wait upon you this
moment, said Mons. le Premier, to lay before you my dis-
patches upon that business.They take it kindly? said the
kingThey do, Sire, replied the minister, and have the highest
sense of the honour your majesty has done thembut the
republick, as godmother, claims her right in this case, of naming
the child.
In all reason, quoth the kingshe 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 alsoAnd what
name has the republick fixed upon for the Dauphin?Shad-
rach, Mesech, and Abed-nego, replied the ministerBy saint
Peters girdle, I will have nothing to do with the Swiss, cried
* Vide Menagiana, vol. I.
270 VOL. IV
Francis the First, pulling up his breeches and walking hastily
across the floor.
Your majesty, replied the minister calmly, cannot bring your-
self off.
Well pay them in moneysaid the king.
Sire, there are not sixty thousand crowns in the treasury,
answered the ministerIll pawn the best jewel in my crown,
quoth Francis the First.
Your honour stands pawnd already in this matter, answered
Monsieur le Premier.
Then, Mons. le Premier, said the king, by well go to
war with em.
CHAP. XXII.
A
LBEIT, gentle reader, I have lusted earnestly, and endeav-
oured 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 booksyet have I
carried myself towards thee in such fanciful guise of careless
disport, that right sore am I ashamed now to entreat thy lenity
seriouslyin 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 Firstnor in the affair of the
noseupon Francis the Ninthnor in the character of my
uncle Tobyof characterizing the militiating spirits of my
countrythe wound upon his groin, is a wound to every com-
parison of that kind,nor by Trim,that I meant the duke of
Ormondor that my book is wrote against predestination, or
free will, or taxesIf tis wrote against any thing,tis
wrote, an please your worships, against the spleen; in order, by
a more frequent and a more convulsive elevation and depression
of the diaphragm, and the succussations of the intercostal and
abdominal muscles in laughter, to drive the gall and other
CHAP. XXIIXXIII 27
bitter juices from the gall bladder, liver and sweet-bread of
his majestys subjects, with all the inimicitious passions which
belong to them, down into their duodenums.
CHAP. XXIII.

B
UT can the thing be undone, Yorick? said my father
for in my opinion, continued he, it cannot. I am a vile
canonist, replied Yorickbut of all evils, holding suspense to
be the most tormenting, we shall at least know the worst of this
matter. I hate these great dinnerssaid my fatherThe size
of the dinner is not the point, answered Yorickwe want, Mr.
Shandy, to dive into the bottom of this doubt, whether the
name can be changed or notand 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 apprize Didius, and let
him manage a conversation after dinner so as to introduce the
subjectThen 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.
282 VOL. IV
CHAP. XXV.

N
O doubt, Sirthere is a whole chapter wanting here
and a chasm of ten pages made in the book by itbut
the book-binder is neither a fool, or a knave, or a puppynor
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 mannerI question first by the bye,
whether the same experiment might not be made as successfully
upon sundry other chaptersbut there is no end, an please
your reverences, in trying experiments upon chapterswe have
had enough of itSo theres 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 other-
wise you would all have been reading just now, instead of
this,was the description of my fathers, my uncle Tobys,
Trims, and Obadiahs setting out and journeying to the visi-
tations at * * * *.
Well go in the coach, said my fatherPrithee, 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
mothers arms were added to the Shandys, when the coach was
repainted upon my fathers 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
Basilor whether twas more from the blunder of his head
than handor whether, lastly, it was from the sinister turn,
which every thing relating to our family was apt to takeIt so
fell out, however, to our reproach, that instead of the bend
dexter, which since Harry the Eighths reign was honestly our
duea 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
coachlet it be whose it wouldor coach-man, or coach-
horse, or coach-hire, could never be named in the family, but he
CHAP. XXV 283
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 outbut like the affair of the hinge, it was
one of the many things which the Destinies had set down in
their booksever to be grumbled at (and in wiser families than
ours)but never to be mended.
Has the bend-sinister been brushd out, I say? said my
fatherThere has been nothing brushd out, Sir, answered
Obadiah, but the lining. Well go ohorse-back, said my father,
turning to YorickOf all things in the world, except politicks,
the clergy know the least of heraldry, said YorickNo matter
for that, cried my fatherI should be sorry to appear with a
blot in my escutcheon before themNever mind the bend-
sinister, said my uncle Toby, putting on his tye-wigNo,
indeed, said my father,you may go with my aunt Dinah to a
visitation with a bend-sinister, if you think fitMy poor uncle
Toby blushd. My father was vexed at himselfNomy dear
brother Toby, said my father, changing his tonebut 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 wifes padand 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
284 VOL. IV
destroying at the same time that necessary equipoise and bal-
ance, (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 itbut, in my opinion, to write
a book is for all the world like humming a songbe 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 siegeMy uncle
Toby looked brisk at the sound of the word siege, but could
make neither head or tail of it.
Im to preach at court next Sunday, said Homenasrun
over my notesso I hummd over doctor Homenass notes
the modulations very welltwill do, Homenas, if it holds on
at this rateso on I hummdand a tolerable tune I thought it
was; and to this hour, may it please your reverences, had never
found out how low, how flat, how spiritless and jejune it was,
but that all of a sudden, up started an air in the middle of it, so
fine, so rich, so heavenlyit 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 access-
iblecertes I had been outwittedYour notes, Homenas, I
should have said, are good notes,but it was so perpendicular
a precipiceso wholly cut off from the rest of the work, that
by the first note I hummd, 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 sizetake my word, is a dwarf in more articles than
oneAnd so much for tearing out of chapters.
CHAP. XXVI 285
CHAP. XXVI.

S
EE 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 Yorickyou might have spared this sarcastick
stroke, and have hit upon a more proper place, Mr. Yorickor
at least upon a more proper occasion to have shewn your
contempt of what we have been about: If the Sermon is of no
better worth than to light pipes withtwas 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 dilemmalet 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 martyrdomand if it was poss-
ible 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 meit came from my head instead of my heart
and it is for the pain it gave me, both in the writing and preaching
of it, that I revenge myself of it, in this manner.To preach, to
shew the extent of our reading, or the subtleties of our witto
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 warmthis a dishonest use of
the poor single half hour in a week which is put into our hands
Tis not preaching the gospelbut ourselvesFor 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 projectileswhen a single
word, and no more, uttered from the opposite side of the table,
286 VOL. IV
drew every ones ears towards ita word of all others in the
dictionary the last in that place to be expecteda word I am
ashamed to writeyet must be writtenmust be read;
illegaluncanonicalguess ten thousand guesses, multiplied
into themselvesracktorture your invention for ever, youre
where you wasIn short, Ill tell it in the next chapter.
CHAP. XXVII.
Z
OUNDS!

Zds! cried Phutatorius,
partly to himselfand yet high enough to be heardand 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 musickwere the most puzzled
and perplexed with itthe concord was good in itselfbut
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 Didiuss hands, in order
to bemawl Yorick to some purposeand that the desperate
monosyllable Zds 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 Tobys good nature felt
a pang for what Yorick was about to undergo. But seeing
Phutatorius stop short, without any attempt or desire to go
ona third party began to suppose, that it was no more than
an involuntary respiration, casually forming itself into the shape
of a twelve-penny oathwithout the sin or substance of one.
CHAP. XXVII 287
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
likingwhich said oath, as my father philosophized upon it,
actually lay fretting and fuming at that very time in the upper
regions of Phutatoriuss 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 Phutatoriuss heart, by the stroke of surprize 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 Phutatoriuss 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 passingbut 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 himYet I say, was Yorick never
once in any one domicile of Phutatoriuss brainbut 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 onobserving 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
288 VOL. IV
was overGastripheres 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 inter-
rupted Yoricks harangueGastripheress chesnuts were
brought inand as Phutatoriuss fondness for em, was upper-
most in the waiters head, he laid them directly before Phutator-
ius, 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 timebut that some one
chesnut, of more life and rotundity than the rest, must be put in
motionit 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 Phutator-
iuss breeches, for which, to the shame and indelicacy of our
language be it spoke, there is no chaste word throughout all
Johnsons dictionarylet it suffice to sayit was that particu-
lar 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 prepos-
sessed and fully persuaded of itand are so to this hour, That
there was nothing of accident in the whole eventbut that the
chesnuts taking that particular course, and in a manner of its
own accordand then falling with all its heat directly into that
one particular place, and no otherwas a real judgment upon
Phutatorius, for that filthy and obscene treatise de Concubinis
retinendis, which Phutatorius had published about twenty
years agoand 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
CHAP. XXVII 289
of fact, and render it credible to the reader, that the hiatus
in Phutatoriuss breeches was sufficiently wide to receive the
chesnut;and that the chesnut, some how or other, did fall
perpendicularly and piping hot into it, without Phutatoriuss
perceiving it, or any one else at that time.
The genial warmth which the chesnut imparted, was not
undelectable for the first twenty or five and twenty seconds,
and did no more than gently solicit Phutatoriuss 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, deliber-
ation, ratiocination, memory, fancy, with ten batallions of ani-
mal spirits, all tumultuously crouded 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 neuterbut the sallies of the
imagination are ungovernable in things of this kinda thought
instantly darted into his mind, that tho the anguish had the
sensation of glowing heatit 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 teeththe horrid idea of which, with a fresh glow
of pain arising that instant from the chesnut, 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
290 VOL. IV
it, marked thus, Zdswhich, though not strictly canon-
ical, 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 chesnut, and throw it down with
violence upon the floorand for Yorick, to rise from his chair,
and pick the chesnut 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
immoveably within it,that Euclids demonstrations, could
they be brought to batter it in breach, should not all have power
to overthrow it.
Yorick, I said, picked up the chesnut which Phutatoriuss
wrath had flung downthe action was triflingI am ashamed
to account for ithe did it, for no reason, but that he thought
the chesnut not a jot worse for the adventureand that he held
a good chesnut worth stooping for.But this incident, trifling
as it was, wrought differently in Phutatoriuss head: He con-
sidered this act of Yoricks, in getting off his chair, and picking
up the chesnut, as a plain acknowledgment in him, that the
chesnut was originally his,and in course, that it must have
been the owner of the chesnut, and no one else, who could have
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 over-against Phutatorius, of slipping the chesnut 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 opinionand 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 givenin a little time it was put out of all manner of dispute.
When great or unexpected events fall out upon the stage of
CHAP. XXVII 29
this sublunary worldthe 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 themThe 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
worldand twas easily found out, that there was a mystical
meaning in Yoricks prankand that his chucking the chesnut
hot into Phutatoriuss * * ** * * * *, was a sarcastical fling at his
bookthe doctrines of which, they said, had inflamed many an
honest man in the same place.
This conceit awakend Somnolentusmade Agelastes smile
and if you can recollect the precise look and air of a mans
face intent in finding out a riddleit threw Gastripheress
into that formand 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
Shakespear said of his ancestorwas a man of jest, but it
was temperd with something which withheld him from that,
and many other ungracious pranks, of which he as undeservedly
bore the blame;but it was his misfortune all his life long to
bear the imputation of saying and doing a thousand things of
which (unless my esteem blinds me) his nature was incapable.
All I blame him foror 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 horsehe 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 themand so trusted to time
and truth to do it for him.
This heroic cast produced him inconveniences in many
respectsin the present, it was followed by the fixed resentment
of Phutatorius, who, as Yorick had just made an end of his
292 VOL. IV
chesnut, rose up from his chair a second time, to let him know
itwhich indeed he did with a smile; saying onlythat 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.

C
AN you tell me, quoth Phutatorius, speaking to Gas-
tripheres who sat next to him,for one would not apply
to a surgeon in so foolish an affair,can you tell me, Gastri-
pheres, what is best to take out the fire?Ask Eugenius, said
GastripheresThat greatly depends, said Eugenius, pretending
ignorance of the adventure, upon the nature of the partIf 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 itIf 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
pressyou need do nothing more than twist it roundThe
damp paper, quoth Yorick (who sat next to his friend Eugenius)
though I know it has a refreshing coolness in ityet I presume
is no more than the vehicleand that the oil and lamp-black
with which the paper is so strongly impregnated, does the
businessRight, said Eugenius, and is of any outward applica-
tion 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
YorickAnd besides, added Eugenius, it would not answer the
intention, which is the extreame neatness and elegance of the
CHAP. XXVIIIXXIX 293
prescription, which the faculty hold to be half in halffor
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 in-
stant in the pressYou may take any leaf of it, said Eugenius
No matter whichprovided, quoth Yorick, there is no bawdry
in it
They are just now, replied Phutatorius, printing off the ninth
chapterwhich is the last chapter but one in the bookPray
what is the title to that chapter, said Yorick, making a respectful
bow to Phutatorius as he spokeI think, answered Phutatorius,
tis that, de re concubinari?
For heavens sake keep out of that chapter, quoth Yorick.
By all meansadded Eugenius.
CHAP. XXIX.

N
OW, quoth Didius, rising up, and laying his right-
hand with his fingers spread upon his breasthad such
a blunder about a christian-name happened before the refor-
mation(It happened the day before yesterday, quoth my
uncle Toby to himself) and when baptism was administerd 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 nameHad a priest, for
instance, which was no uncommon thing, through ignorance of
the Latin tongue, baptized a child of Tom-oStiles, in nomino
patri & filia & 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
294 VOL. IV
have fallen upon the first syllable of each nounand not, as in
your case, upon the last.
My father delighted in subtleties of this kind, and listend
with infinite attention.
Gastripheres, for example, continued Kysarcius, baptizes a
child of John Stradlings, in Gomine gatris, &c. &c. instead of
in Nomine patris, &c.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 fatherWhat do they signify? said my uncle Toby
Nothing at allquoth YorickErgo, such a baptism is null,
said KysarciusIn 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 onas it is a fault only in the
declension, and the roots of the words continue untouchd, the
inflexions of their branches, either this way or that, does not in
any sort hinder the baptism, inasmuch as the same sense con-
tinues in the words as beforeBut then, said Didius, the
intention of the priests pronouncing them grammatically, must
have been proved to have gone along with itRight, answered
Kysarcius; and of this, brother Didius, we have an instance in a
decree of the decretals of Pope Leo the IIId.But my brothers
child, cried my uncle Toby, has nothing to do with the Pope
tis the plain child of a Protestant gentleman, christend 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. Shandys child,
were to have weight in this matter, Mrs. Shandy, of all people,
has the least to do in itMy uncle Toby layd 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 the*
best lawyers and civilians in this land, continued Kysarcius,
* Vid. Swinburn on Testaments, Part 7. 8.
CHAP. XXIX 295
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 child *. My father in-
stantly clappd his hand upon my uncle Tobys mouth, under
colour of whispering in his earthe truth was, he was alarmed
for Lillabulleroand having a great desire to hear more of
so curious an argumenthe beggd my uncle Toby, for
heavens sake, not to disappoint him in itMy uncle Toby gave
a nodresumed his pipe, and contenting himself with whistling
Lillabullero inwardlyKysarcius, 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 Suffolks case:It is cited in Brook,
said TriptolemusAnd taken notice of by Lord Coke, added
DidiusAnd 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 alsobut without will,
without wife, and without childhis mother and his sister by
the fathers side (for she was born of the former venter) then
living. The mother took the administration of her sons goods,
according to the statute of the 2st of Harry the Eighth, whereby
it is enacted, That in case any person die intestate, the admin-
istration of his goods shall be committed to the next of kin.
The administration being thus (surreptitiously) granted to the
mother, the sister by the fathers side commenced a suit before
the Ecclesiastical Judge, alledging, st, That she herself was next
of kin; and 2dly, That the mother was not of kin at all to
the party deceased; and therefore prayd the court, that the
* Vid. Brook Abridg. Tit. Administr. N. 47.
296 VOL. IV
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 issueand many causes of great property likely to be decided
in times to come, by the precedent to be then madethe 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 lawyersbut the
church-lawyersthe juris-consultithe juris-prudentesthe
civiliansthe advocatesthe commissariesthe 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 of * kin to her child
And what said the Duchess of Suffolk to it? said my uncle
Toby.
The unexpectedness of my uncle Tobys question, con-
founded Kysarcius more than the ablest advocateHe
stoppd a full minute, looking in my uncle Tobys face without
replyingand 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 parentsthat 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 parentsFor so they
write, Liberi sunt de sanguine patris & matris, sed pater et mater
non sunt de sanguine liberorum.
But this, Triptolemus, cried Didius, proves too muchfor
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
childbut the father likewiseIt 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 caro ) one
* Mater non numeratur inter consanguineos. Bald. in ult. C. de Verb.
signific.
Vide Brook Abridg. tit. Administr. N. 47.
CHAP. XXIXXXX 297
flesh; and consequently no degree of kindredor any method
of acquiring one in natureThere you push the argument again
too far, cried Didiusfor there is no prohibition in nature,
though there is in the levitical law,but that a man may beget
a child upon his grandmotherin which case, supposing the
issue a daughter, she would stand in relation both ofBut
who ever thought, cried Kysarcius, of laying with his grand-
mother?The young gentleman, replied Yorick, whom
Selden speaks ofwho not only thought of it, but justified his
intention to his father by the argument drawn from the law of
retaliationYou layd, 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.

A
ND pray, said my uncle Toby, leaning upon Yorick, as
he and my father were helping him leisurely down the
stairsdont be terrified, madam, this stair-case conversation
is not so long as the lastAnd 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 itfor Mrs. Shandy the
mother is nothing at all akin to himand as the mothers is the
surest sideMr. 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.
298 VOL. IV
CHAP. XXXI.
T
HOUGH my father was hugely tickled with the subtleties
of these learned discoursestwas still but like the anoint-
ing of a broken boneThe 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 pensivewalked frequently forth to the fish-
pondlet down one loop of his hatsighd oftenforbore
to snapand, as the hasty sparks of temper, which occasion
snapping, so much assist perspiration and digestion, as Hippoc-
rates tells ushe 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 familyA
hundred and fifty odd projects took possession of his brains by
turnshe would do this, and that, and totherHe would go
to Romehe would go to lawhe would buy stockhe would
buy John Hobsons farmhe would new fore-front his house,
and add a new wing to make it evenThere 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 itBut above all things in the
world, he would inclose 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 thingand 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 neces-
CHAP. XXXI 299
sary part of my brothers 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 adventureryet the
Ox-moor, which was a fine, large, whinny, undrained, un-
improved 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 conjunc-
ture of things, as made it necessary to settle either the priority
or justice of their claims,like a wise man he had refrained
entering into any nice or critical examination about them: So
that upon the dismission of every other project at this crisis,
the two old projects, the 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
gentlemans mind,which of the two should be set ogoing
first.
People may laugh as they willbut 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 airbut simply for the mere delectation of
his fancy, by the feather put into his cap, of having been
abroadtantum valet, my father would say, quantum sonat.
Now as this was a reasonable, and in course a most christian
indulgenceto deprive him of it, without why or wherefore,
and thereby make an example of him, as the first Shandy
unwhirld about Europe in a post-chaise, and only because he
was a heavy ladwould 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 poundsit had cost the family eight hundred pounds
more in a law-suit about fifteen years beforebesides the Lord
knows what trouble and vexation.
300 VOL. IV
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
familyyet by an unaccountable fatality, common to men,
as well as the ground they tread on,it had all along most
shamefully been overlookd; and to speak the truth of it, had
suffered so much by it, that it would have made any mans 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 groundnor
indeed the placing of it where it lay, were either of them, properly
speaking, of my fathers doinghe had never thought himself
any way concerned in the affairtill 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 fathers 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 itand 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 weighd them in
all humours and conditionsspent many an anxious hour in
the most profound and abstracted meditation upon what was
best to be donereading books of farming one daybooks
of travels anotherlaying aside all passion whateverviewing
the arguments on both sides in all their lights and circumstances
communing every day with my uncle Tobyarguing with
Yorick, and talking over the whole affair of the Ox-moor with
Obadiahyet 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
CHAP. XXXI 30
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 layyet every tittle of this was
true, with regard to my brother Bobbylet Obadiah say what
he would.
In point of interestthe contest, I own, at first sight, did not
appear so undecisive betwixt them; for whenever my father
took pen and ink in hand, and set about calculating the simple
expence of paring and burning, and fenceing in the Ox-moor,
&c. &c.with the certain profit it would bring him in return
the latter turned out so prodigiously in his way of working the
account, that you would have sworn the 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 yearbesides
an excellent crop of wheat the year followingand the year
after that, to speak within bounds, a hundredbut, in all
likelihood, a hundred and fiftyif not two hundred quarters of
pease and beansbesides potatoes without endBut then, to
think he was all this while breeding up my brother like a hog to
eat themknocked all on the head again, and generally left the
old gentleman in such a state of suspencethat, as he often
declared to my uncle Tobyhe 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 mans mind torn asunder by two projects of
equal strength, both obstinately pulling in a contrary direction
at the same time: For to say nothing of the havock, which by a
certain consequence is unavoidably made by it all over the finer
system of the nerves, which you know convey the animal 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 NAMEhad he not
been rescued out of it as he was out of that, by a fresh evilthe
misfortune of my brother Bobbys death.
302 VOL. IV
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.
F
ROM this moment I am to be considered as heir-apparent
to the Shandy familyand 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 buildingand such a building do I fore-
see 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 ink-horn, after it
I have but half a score things to do in the timeI have a thing
to namea thing to lamenta thing to hopea thing to
promise, and a thing to threatenI have a thing to suppose
a thing to declarea thing to conceala thing to chuse,
and a thing to pray for.This chapter, therefore, I name the
chapter of THINGSand 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 itOh Tristram!
Tristram! can this but be once brought aboutthe credit,
which will attend thee as an author, shall counterbalance the
CHAP. XXXII 303
many evils which have befallen thee as a manthou wilt feast
upon the onewhen 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 emassure 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 thats the thing I
have to declare.I shall never get all through in five minutes,
that I fearand the thing I hope is, that your worships and
reverences are not offendedif you are, depend upont Ill give
you something, my good gentry, next year, to be offended at
thats my dear Jennys waybut who my Jenny isand
which is the right and which the wrong end of a woman, is the
thing to be concealedit 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
volumesthe thing I have to ask is, how you feel your heads?
my own akes dismallyas for your healths, I know, they are
much betterTrue 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 chearfully round.
Was I left like Sancho Pana, to chuse my kingdom, it should
not be maritimeor 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 naturaland as nothing
but a habit of virtue can fully govern those passions, and subject
them to reasonI should add to my prayerthat 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
304 VOL. IV
time twelve-month, when (unless this vile cough kills me in the
mean time) Ill have another pluck at your beards, and lay open
a story to the world you little dream of.
FI NI S.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Dixero si quid fort jocosius, hoc mihi juris
Cum venia dabis. HOR.
Si quis calumnietur levius esse quam decet theo-
logum, aut mordacius quam deceat Christia-
numnon Ego, sed Democritus dixit.
ERASMUS.
V O L. V.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONDT,
in the Strand. M DCC LXII.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Dixero si quid fort jocosius, hoc mihi juris
Cum venia dabis. HOR.
Si quis calumnietur levius esse quam decet theologum,
aut mordacius quam deceat Christianumnon
Ego, sed Democritus dixit ERASMUS.
Si quis Clericus, aut Monachus, verba joculatoria,
visum moventia sciebat anathema esto.
Second Council of CARTHAGE.
The SECOND EDITION.
V O L. V.
LONDON.
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONDT,
in the Strand. M DCC LXVII.
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 Lordships
Most devoted,
And most humble Servant,
LAUR. STERNE.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

CHAP. I.
I
F it had not been for those two mettlesome tits, and that
madcap of a postilion, who drove them from Stilton to Stam-
ford, the thought had never entered my head. He flew like
lightningthere was a slope of three miles and a half
we scarce touched the groundthe motion was most rapid
most impetuoustwas communicated to my brainmy heart
partook of itBy 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 waggon confirmed me in my resolution: it hung
tottering upon the hill, scarce progressive, dragddragd up by
eight heavy beastsby main strength!quoth I, nodding
but your betters draw the same wayand something of every
bodies!O rare!
Tell me, ye learned, shall we for ever be adding so much to
the bulkso 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?
30 VOL. V
Are we for ever to be twisting, and untwisting the same rope?
for ever in the same trackfor ever at the same pace?
Shall we be destined to the days of eternity, on holy-days, as
well as working-days, to be shewing the relicks of learning, as
monks do the relicks of their saintswithout working one
one single miracle with them?
Who made MAN, with powers which dart him from earth to
heaven in a momentthat great, that most excellent, and most
noble creature of the worldthe miracle of nature, as Zoroaster
in his book called himthe SHEKINAH of the divine
presence, as Chrysostomthe image of God, as Mosesthe
ray of divinity, as Platothe marvel of marvels, as Aristotle
to go sneaking on at this pitifulpimpingpettifogging
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 holdayeand sublimate
them, shag-rag and bob-tail, male and female, all together: and
this leads me to the affair of Whiskersbut, by what chain
of ideasI leave as a legacy in mort main to Prudes and
Tartufs, to enjoy and make the most of.
Upon Whiskers.
Im sorry I made ittwas as inconsiderate a promise as
ever entered a mans headA chapter upon whiskers! alas!
the world will not bear ittis a delicate worldbut I knew
not of what mettle it was madenor had I ever seen the under-
written 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.
CHAP. I 3
The Fragment.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * *You are half asleep, my good lady, said the
old gentleman, taking hold of the old ladys 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 herselfI 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 Fos-
seuse uttered the wordWhiskers; madam, said La Fosseuse,
pinning the ball to the queens apron, and making a courtesy as
she repeated it.
La Fosseuses voice was naturally soft and low, yet twas
an articulate voice: and every letter of the word whiskers fell
distinctly upon the queen of Navarres earWhiskers! cried
the queen, laying a greater stress upon the word, and as if she
had still distrusted her earsWhiskers; replied La Fosseuse,
repeating the word a third timeThere is not a cavalier,
madam, of his age in Navarre, continued the maid of honour,
pressing the pages interest upon the queen, that has so gallant
a pairOf what? cried Margaret, smilingOf 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 mysteryAnd as the court of Mar-
garet, as all the world knows, was at that time a mixture of
gallantry and devotionand whiskers being as applicable to
the one, as the other, the word naturally stood its groundit
gaind full as much as it lost; that is, the clergy were for it
32 VOL. V
the laity were against itand 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 sameit was the
finest weather for it, that ever was remembered in NavarreLa
Guyol, La Maronette, La Sabatiere, fell in love with the Sieur
de Croix alsoLa 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 insepar-
able.
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 itHe 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 legsOr who stood
so well upon them, said La SabatiereBut he has no whis-
kers, cried La FosseuseNot 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 fancyAve 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 chambersWhiskers! 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 farthingalfrom 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 Fosseuses textShe
mounted her palfry, her page followed herthe host passed
bythe lady Baussiere rode on.
One denier, cried the order of mercyone single denier, in
CHAP. I 33
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
handsI beg for the unfortunategood, my lady, tis for a
prisonfor an hospitaltis for an old mana poor man
undone by shipwreck, by suretyship, by fireI call God and
all his angels to witnesstis to cloath the nakedto feed the
hungrytis 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, conjur-
ing her by the former bonds of friendship, alliance, consanguin-
ity, &c.Cousin, aunt, sister, motherfor virtues sake, for
your own, for mine, for Christs sake remember mepity me.
The Lady Baussiere rode on.
Take hold of my whiskers, said the Lady BaussiereThe
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 strongerwe see, spell, and put
them together without a dictionary.
Ha, ha! hee, hee! cried La Guyol and La Sabatiere, looking
close at each others printsHo, ho! cried La Battarelle and
Maronette, doing the same:Whist! cried one-st, st,said a
second,hush, quoth a thirdpoo, poo, replied a fourth
gramercy! cried the Lady Carnavallette;twas she who
bewhiskerd 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 Rebourss
handLa Rebours shook her head.
The Lady Baussiere coughd thrice into the inside of her
muffLa Guyol smiledFy, said the Lady Baussiere. The
34 VOL. V
queen of Navarre touched her eye with the tip of her fore
fingeras 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 defilesIt made a faint stand, how-
ever, for a few months; by the expiration of which, the Sieur
de Croix, finding it high time to leave Navarre for want of
whiskersthe 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
dEstella 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 dEstella 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 NavarreThe 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 associ-
ation?Chastity, by nature the gentlest of all affectionsgive
it but its headtis like a ramping and a roaring lion.
The drift of the curate dEstellas argument was not under-
stood.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.
W
HEN my father received the letter which brought him
the melancholy account of my brother Bobbys death, he
was busy calculating the expence of his riding post from Calais
to Paris, and so on to Lyons.
Twas a most inauspicious journey; my father having had
CHAP. II 35
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 Obadiahs
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 devils in that horse; then take PATRIOT, cried my
father, and shut the door.PATRIOT is sold, said Oba-
diah.Heres for you! cried my father, making a pause, and
looking in my uncle Tobys 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 calcu-
lation.But the waters are out, said Obadiah,opening the
door again.
Till that moment, my father, who had a map of Sansons,
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 forpurposing to go
on from that point with his journey and calculation, as soon as
Obadiah quitted the room; but this second attack of Obadiahs,
in opening the door and laying the whole country under water,
was too much.He let go his compassesor 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 con-
tained the news of my brothers death, my father had got for-
wards again upon his journey to within a stride of the compasses
of the very same stage of Nevers.By your leave, Mons. Sanson,
36 VOL. V
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 thinkst thou,
Toby, added my father in a sprightly tone.Unless it be a
garrison town, said my uncle Toby,for thenI shall be a
fool, said my father, smiling to himself, as long as I live.So
giving a second nodand keeping his compasses still upon
Nevers with one hand, and holding his book of the post-roads
in the otherhalf calculating and half listening, he leaned for-
wards upon the table with both elbows, as my uncle Toby
hummed over the letter.



hes
gone! said my uncle Toby.WhereWho? cried my father.
My nephew, said my uncle Toby.Whatwithout leave
without moneywithout 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! Ill answer for himfor he is dead.
When Agrippina was told of her sons death, Tacitus informs
us, that not being able to moderate the violence of her passions,
she abruptly broke off her workMy father stuck his com-
passes into Nevers, but so much the faster.What contrarieties!
his, indeed, was matter of calculationAgrippinas 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 37
CHAP. III.
And a chapter it shall have, and a
devil of a one tooso look to yourselves.
Tis either Plato, or Plutarch, or Seneca, or Xenophon, or
Epictetus, or Theophrastus, or Lucianor some one perhaps
of later dateeither Cardan, or Budus, or Petrarch, or
Stellaor possibly it may be some divine or father of the church,
St. Austin, or St. Cyprian, or Barnard, who affirms that it is an
irresistable and natural passion to weep for the loss of our
friends or childrenand Seneca (Im positive) tells us some-
where, that such griefs evacuate themselves best by that particu-
lar channel.And accordingly we find, that David wept for
his son AbsolomAdrian for his AntinousNiobe for her
children, and that Apollodorus and Crito both shed tears for
Socrates before his death.
My father managed his affliction otherwise; and indeed differ-
ently from most men either ancient or modern; for he neither
wept it away, as the Hebrews and the Romansor slept it off,
as the Laplandersor hangd it, as the English, or drowned it,
as the Germansnor did he curse it, or damn it, or excom-
municate 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 occasionno 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 TUL-
LIUS 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
38 VOL. V
his strengthand his weakness too.His strengthfor he
was by nature eloquent,and his weaknessfor he was hourly
a dupe to it; and provided an occasion in life would but permit
him to shew his talents, or say either a wise thing, a witty, or a
shrewd one(bating the case of a systematick misfortune)he
had all he wanted.A blessing which tied up my fathers 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 fivemy 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 incon-
sistent in my fathers 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 fathers 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 Obadiahand 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 fathers eyes, at the reparteethe Attic
salt brought water into themand so Obadiah heard no more
about it.
Now let us go back to my brothers 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
fathers head, that twas difficult to string them together, so as
CHAP. III 39
to make any thing of a consistent show out of them.He took
them as they came.
Tis an inevitable chancethe first statute in Magn
Chartit 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 travellers 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 evolutionsRevolutions, I meant, quoth
my father,by heaven! I meant revolutions, brother Toby
evolutions is nonsense.Tis not nonsensesaid my uncle
Toby.But is it not nonsense to break the thread of such a
discourse, upon such an occasion? cried my fatherdo not
dear Toby, continued he, taking him by the hand, do notdo
not, I beseech thee, interrupt me at this crisis.My uncle Toby
put his pipe into his mouth.
Where is Troy and Mycen, and Thebes and Delos, and
Persepolis, and Agrigentumcontinued 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 Mitylen? 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,
mustmust come to an end.
Returning out of Asia, when I sailed from gina towards
Megara, (when can this have been? thought my uncle Toby)
320 VOL. V
I began to view the country round about. gina was behind
me, Megara was before, Pyrus 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 presenceRemember, said I to myself againremember
thou art a man.
Now my uncle Toby knew not that this last paragraph was
an extract of Servius Sulpiciuss 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 gina
behind, and Megara before, and Pyrus on the right hand, &c.
&c. was nothing more than the true course of my fathers 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 fathers hand in a kindly
way of interruptionbut waiting till he finished the account
what year of our Lord was this?Twas no year of our Lord,
replied my father.Thats 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 Tobys suspicions).
Labour, sorrow, grief, sickness, want, and woe, are the sauces
CHAP. III 32
of life.Much good may it do themsaid 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 baldhe is but
risen from a feast before he was surfeitedfrom 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 bonds-
mans task into another mans hands.
Shew me the man, who knows what life is, who dreads it,
and Ill shew thee a prisoner who dreads his liberty.
Is it not better, my dear brother Toby, (for markour appe-
tites 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 convulsionsand the blowing of
noses, and the wiping away of tears with the bottoms of curtains
in a dying mans room.Strip it of these, what is itTis 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 aidsWhat is it?Better in battle! con-
tinued my father, smiling, for he had absolutely forgot my
brother Bobbytis terrible no wayfor consider, brother
Toby,when we aredeath is not;and when death iswe
are not. My uncle Toby laid down his pipe to consider the
proposition; my fathers eloquence was too rapid to stay for any
manaway it went,and hurried my uncle Tobys ideas along
with it.
For this reason, continued my father, tis worthy to recollect,
322 VOL. V
how little alteration in great men, the approaches of death have
made.Vespasian died in a jest upon his close stoolGalba
with a sentenceSeptimius Severus in a dispatchTiberius in
dissimulation, and Csar Augustus in a compliment.I hope,
twas a sincere onequoth my uncle Toby.
Twas to his wife,said my father.
CHAP. IV.
And lastlyfor of all the choice anecdotes which history
can produce of this matter, continued my father,this, like the
gilded dome which covers in the fabrickcrowns all.
Tis of Cornelius Gallus, the prtorwhich 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
Tobythere could be no hurt in it.Thats more than I
knowreplied my father.
CHAP. V.
M
Y 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 lipsholding 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
CHAP. VVI 323
minutes: till I bring up the affairs of the kitchen (as Rapin does
those of the church) to the same period.
CHAP. VI.
T
HOUGH 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, har-
angue, 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 sus-
pended till a servant went outor the lines of discontent were
observed to hang upon the brows of my father or motheror,
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-jaras 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
324 VOL. V
he had left the letter upon the table which brought the news of
my brothers death; so that before my father had well got over
his surprize, 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 Jobs stockthough, by the bye, your curious observers
are seldom worth a groatwould 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 readingprompt memorywith
Cato, and Seneca, and Epictetus, at his fingers ends.
The corporalwith nothingto rememberof no deeper
reading than his muster-rollor greater names at his fingers
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 hadst 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 sattin night-gown of my mothers, which had been
twice scoured, was the first idea which Obadiahs exclama-
tion brought into Susannahs 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 herselffailed also of doing its office; it excited not one
CHAP. VII 325
single idea, tinged either with grey or black,all was green.
The green sattin night-gown hung there still.
O! twill be the death of my poor mistress, cried
Susannah.My mothers 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 scullionmy 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 stepd into the kitchen,master Bobby is dead and
buried,the funeral was an interpolation of Susannahs,we
shall have all to go into mourning, said Susannah.
I hope not, said Trim.You hope not! cried Susannah earn-
estly.The mourning ran not in Trims head, whatever it did
in Susannahs.I hopesaid 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! hes 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 gentle-
man!
He was alive last Whitsontide, said the coachman.Whit-
sontide! 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 coachmans
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
326 VOL. V
foolish fat scullion herself, who was scouring a fish-kettle upon
her knees, was rousd with it.The whole kitchen crouded
about the corporal.
Now as I perceive plainly, that the preservation of our consti-
tution in church and state,and possibly the preservation of
the whole worldor 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 corporals eloquenceI 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 stonestis very well. I
should have added, nor are we angels, I wish we were,but
men cloathed 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 conveyor sometimes get rid of.
Ive gone a little aboutno matter, tis for healthlet us
only carry it back in our mind to the mortality of Trims hat.
Are we not here now,and gone in a moment?There was
nothing in the sentencetwas 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 headhe 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 fore-runner, like it,his hand seemed to vanish from under
CHAP. VIIVIII 327
it,it fell dead,the corporals eye fixd upon it, as upon a
corps,and Susannah burst into a flood of tears.
NowTen 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 gooselike a puppylike an assor in doing it, or
even after he had done, had he looked like a fool,like a
ninnylike a nicompoopit had faild, 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 driveand why not, Ye also who are
driven, like turkeys to market, with a stick and a red clout
meditatemeditate, I beseech you, upon Trims hat.
CHAP. VIII.
S
TAYI 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 dis-
charge 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 con-
nected together, might endanger the morals of the world,I
328 VOL. V
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, ant 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 Christ-
mas,tis not longtis like nothing;but to those, Jonathan,
who know what death is, and what havock and destruction he
can make, before a man can well wheel abouttis like a whole
age.O Jonathan! twould make a good-natured mans heart
bleed, to consider, continued the corporal, (standing perpen-
dicularly) 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 pageshe
weptbut she courtsied too.Are we not, continued Trim,
looking still at Susannahare 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 Susannahs afflictionis
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 Trims shoulder)but corrup-
tion?Susannah took it off.
CHAP. IXX 329
Now I love you for thisand tis this delicious mixture
within you which makes you dear creatures what you areand
he who hates you for itall I can say of the matter, is
That he has either a pumkin for his heador a pippin for his
heart,and whenever he is dissected twill be found so.
CHAP. X.
W
HETHER Susannah, by taking her hand too sud-
denly from off the corporals shoulder, (by the whisking
about of her passions)broke a little the chain of his re-
flections
Or whether the corporal began to be suspicious, he had got
into the doctors quarters, and was talking more like the chaplain
than himself
Or whether
Or whetherfor 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 determinetis 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 triggera push of a
bayonet an inch this way or thatmakes the difference.
Look along the lineto the rightsee! Jacks down! well,
tis worth a regiment of horse to him.Notis Dick. Then
Jacks 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.Ive
lookd him, added the corporal, an hundred times in the face,
and know what he is.Hes nothing, Obadiah, at all in the
330 VOL. V
field.But hes 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
theresaid Trimbut 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
accidentI 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 Fevers boy.And with that, like
a quieting draught, his honour would fall asleep.
I like to hear Trims 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 stept before a platoon.There never was a better officer
in the kings army,or a better man in Gods 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 yearthan 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
CHAP. XXI 33
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 obedi-
ent servant, MadamIve cost you a great deal of trouble,I
wish it may answer;but you have left a crack in my back,
and heres 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,Ill go to the worlds end
with him:But I hate disputes,and therefore (bating
religious points, or such as touch society) I would almost sub-
scribe to any thing which does not choak me in the first passage,
rather than be drawn into oneBut I cannot bear suffo-
cation,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 tother.
332 VOL. V
CHAP. XII.

B
UT to return to my mother.
My uncle Tobys opinion, Madam, that there could
be no harm in Cornelius Gallus, the Roman prtors 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 accom-
modated 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 Corneliuss 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
irresistable:not the oration of Socrates,but my fathers
temptation to it.He had wrote the *Life of Socrates him-
self 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 Socratess
oration, which closed with a shorter word than transmigration,
or annihilation,or a worse thought in the middle of it than to
beor 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.
Nothere I mistake; that was part of Eleazers oration, as
recorded by Josephus (de Bell. Judaic.)Eleazer owns he
had it from the philosophers of India; in all likelihood Alex-
ander the Great, in his irruption into India, after he had over-run
Persia, amongst the many things he stole,stole that sentiment
* 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.
CHAP. XIIXIII 333
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 stair-case 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.

N
OW my father had a way, a little like that of Jobs
(in case there ever was such a manif not, theres
an end of the matter.
Though, by the bye, because your learned men find some
difficulty in fixing the precise ra in which so great a man
lived;whether, for instance, before or after the patriarchs,
&c.to vote, therefore, that he never lived at all, is a little
cruel,tis not doing as they would be done byhappen 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 provo-
cation 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
334 VOL. V
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 Socratess 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 friendsI have relations,I have three desolate chil-
dren,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 Socratess children, said my uncle Toby. He
has been dead a hundred years ago, replied my mother.
My uncle Toby was no chronologerso 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.
H
AD this volume been a farce, which, unless every ones
life and opinions are to be looked upon as a farce as well
as mine, I see no reason to supposethe last chapter, Sir, had
CHAP. XV 335
finished the first act of it, and then this chapter must have set
off thus.
Ptr . . r . . r . . ingtwingtwangpruttruttis a cursed
bad fiddle.Do you know whether my fiddles in tune or no?
trut . . prut . . They should be fifths.Tis wickedly
strungtr . . . a.e.i.o.u.-twang.The bridge is a mile too high,
and the sound-post absolutely down,elsetrut . . prut
hark! tis not so bad a tone.Diddle diddle, diddle diddle,
diddle diddle, dum. There is nothing in playing before
good judges,but theres a man therenonot him with the
bundle under his armthe grave man in black.Sdeath! 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, Ill stake my Cremona to a
Jews 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-trutkrishkrashkrush.Ive 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 diddlehumdum
drum.
Your worships and your reverences love musickand God
has made you all with good earsand some of you play delight-
fully yourselvestrut-prut,prut-trut.
O! there iswhom 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
spareor you, Messrs. Apothecary and Taylor, want your bills
paying,thats your time.
336 VOL. V
CHAP. XVI.
T
HE first thing which entered my fathers head, after affairs
were a little settled in the family, and Susannah had got
possession of my mothers green sattin night-gown,was to sit
down coolly, after the example of Xenophon, and write a
TRISTRA-pdia, 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
fathers last stakehe 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
memy 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
TartagliaMy father spun his, every thread of it, out of his
own brain,or reeled and cross-twisted what all other spinners
and spinsters had spun before him, that twas pretty near the
same torture to him.
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 mothers hussive.Matter grows under our hands.Let
no man say,ComeIll 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 Riders Almanack.How the
CHAP. XVI 337
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 fedas 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 clerkof dull
witslow partscostive head, and so forth,he and his Gal-
atea might have jogged on together to the age of Methusalah
for me,the phnomenon 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
summers day: this disability in his Grace arose from an opinion
he was afflicted with,which opinion was this,viz. that
whenever a Christian was writing a book (not for his private
amusement, but) where his intent and purpose was bon 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
handall 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
338 VOL. V
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 fathers 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 doctrinehe
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 Casses 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 mothers 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 far-
rago 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-pdia; at which (as I
said) he was three years and something more, indefatigably at
work, and at last, had scarce compleated, 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
CHAP. XVIXVIII 339
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
readerI 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.

T
WAS nothing,I did not lose two drops of blood
by ittwas not worth calling in a surgeon, had
he lived next door to usthousands 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 hang-
ing great weights upon small wires,and I am this day (August
the 0th, 76) paying part of the price of this mans repu-
tation.O twould provoke a stone, to see how things
are carried on in this world!The chamber-maid had
left no * * * * * * * * * * under the bed:Cannot you
contrive, master, quoth 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 noth-
ing was well hung in our family,so slap came the sash down
like lightening upon us;Nothing is left,cried Susannah,
nothing is leftfor me, but to run my country.
My uncle Tobys house was a much kinder sanctuary; and so
Susannah fled to it.
CHAP. XVIII.
W
HEN 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
340 VOL. V
cheeks;all accessaries in murder, being principals,Trims
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 Susannahs steps to so proper an asylum.
It is in vain to leave this to the Readers imagination:to
form any kind of hypothesis that will render these propositions
feasible, he must cudgel his brains sore,and to do it with-
out,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: Ill explain it myself.
CHAP. XIX.
T
IS a pity, Trim, said my uncle Toby, resting with his
hand upon the corporals shoulder, as they both stood
surveying their works,that we have not a couple of field pieces
to mount in the gorge of that new redoubt;twould secure
the lines all along there, and make the attack on that side quite
complete:get me a couple cast, Trim.
Your honour shall have them, replied Trim, before to-morrow
morning.
It was the joy of Trims 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 Tobys spoutshacking and chiseling up the sides of his
leaden gutters,melting down his pewter shaving bason,and
going at last, like Lewis the fourteenth, on to the top of the
church, for spare ends, &c.he had that very campaign
brought no less than eight new battering cannons, besides three
demi-culverins into the field; my uncle Tobys demand for two
more pieces for the redoubt, had set the corporal at work again;
CHAP. XIXXX 34
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 Tobys
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 timetis enough to say, wherever the demolition
began, twas equally fatal to the sash window.
CHAP. XX.
T
HE 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 Susannahs 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 manuvre 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 kings
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.
342 VOL. V
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 Susannahs story, before I would suffer the woman
to come to any harm,twas my fault, an please your
honour,not hers.
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 Cuttsscontinued the corporal, clapping
the forefinger of his right hand upon the thumb of his left,
and counting round his hand,there was Cuttss,
Mackays,Anguss,Grahamsand Levens, 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 enemys fire in their faces,
before any one of their own platoons discharged a musket,
theyll go to heaven for it,added Trim.Trim is right, said
my uncle Toby, nodding to Yorick,hes 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 felld trees laid
CHAP. XXIXXII 343
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 noth-
ing 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 drubd them soundly at
Steenkirk, they would not have fought us at Landen.Poss-
ibly not,Trim, said my uncle Toby;though if they
have the advantage of a wood, or you give them a moments
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-mellDing 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 moments pause, my uncle
Toby sinking his voice a note,resumed the discourse as
follows.
CHAP. XXII.
K
ING 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 twould 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
344 VOL. V
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 dispo-
sition,and in this order, without either drums beating, or
colours flying, they marched slowly from my uncle Tobys 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 enow, replied
Yorick.
CHAP. XXIV.
A
S 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
CHAP. XXIVXXVI 345
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.
T
IS a point settled,and I mention it for the comfort of
*Confucius, who is apt to get entangled in telling a plain
storythat 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.
F
IFTY thousand pannier loads of devils(not of the Arch-
bishop of Beneventos,I mean of Rabelaiss devils) with
their tails chopped off by their rumps, could not have made so
diabolical a scream of it, as I didwhen 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 cookthe 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 Oba-
diah enabled to give him a particular account of it, just as it had
* Mr. Shandy is supposed to mean * * * * * * * * * * *, Esq; member for * * * * * *,
and not the Chinese Legislator.
346 VOL. V
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 Tristrapdia,
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
chamber-maids.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 chamber-pots, at the time supposed,and
it is this.
That, in order to render the Tristrapdia complete,I
wrote the chapter myself.
CHAP. XXVII.
M
Y father put on his spectacleslooked,took them
off,put them into the caseall 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 bed side, that he might consult upon the
case at his ease.
If it be but right done,said my father, turning to the
CHAP. XXVIIXXVIII 347
Sectionde sede vel subjecto circumcisionis,for he had
brought up Spencer de Legibus Hebrorum Ritualibusand
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 con-
venience 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
itif the EGYPTIANS,the SYRIANS,the PHOENICIANS,
the ARABIANS,the CAPADOCIANS,if the COLCHI, and
TROGLODYTES did itif SOLON and PYTHAGORAS sub-
mitted,what is TRISTRAM?Who am I, that I should fret
or fume one moment about the matter?
CHAP. XXVIII.
D
EAR Yorick, said my father smiling, (for Yorick had broke
his rank with my uncle Toby in coming through the narrow
entry, and so had stept 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,
348 VOL. V
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 their 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 usTheologically?
said Yorick,or speaking after the manner of *apothe-
caries?statesmen?or washer-women?
Im not sure, replied my father,but they tell us, brother
Toby, hes 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, 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 Tobys, remark, but turning to Yorick,are greatly
divided still who Ilus was;some say Saturn;some the su-
pream 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 shewn the
world the futility of the greatest part of them.But then again,
our best polemic divinesI wish there was not a polemic
* , , . PHILO.
, .
. BOCHART.
, ,
. SANCHUNIATHO.
CHAP. XXVIIIXXIX 349
divine, said Yorick, in the kingdom;one ounce of practical
divinityis 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, youll 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 horses 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
350 VOL. V
with a marvellous strength and agility, turning towards the
right-hand, he fetched another frisking gambol as before; which
done, he set his right-hand thumb upon the bow of the saddle,
raised himself up, and sprung into the air, poising and upholding
his whole weight upon the muscle and nerve of the said thumb,
and so turned and whirled himself about three times: at the
fourth, reversing his body and overturning it upside-down, and
foreside back, without touching any thing, he brought himself
betwixt the horses two ears, and then giving himself a jerking
swing, he seated himself upon the crupper
(This cant be fighting, said my uncle Toby.The corporal
shook his head at it.Have patience, said Yorick.)
Then (Tripet) passd 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 Tristrapdia,
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
CHAP. XXXXXXI 35
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
Tripets 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 corporals, 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 stird up the fire,took up the
book,coughd twice, and begun.
CHAP. XXXI.
T
HE first thirty pages, said my father, turning over the
leaves,are a little dry; and as they are not closely connec-
ted with the subject,for the present well 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 speciesI was insensibly led into it.Twas natural,
said Yorick.
The original of society, continued my father, Im satisfied
is, what Politian 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 bornhe lays the foundation of it,
in a man,a womanand a bull.I believe tis an ox,
352 VOL. V
quoth Yorick, quoting the passage ( ,
, .)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 Tobys reason.For when
the ground was tilled, said my uncle Toby, and made worth
inclosing, 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 shew the
foundation of the natural relation between a father and his
child; the right and jurisdiction over whom he acquires these
several ways
st, 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
CHAP. XXXIXXXII 353
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.
T
RIM can repeat every word of it by heart, quoth my uncle
Toby.Pugh! said my father, not caring to be interrupted
with Trims saying his Catechism. He can upon my honour,
replied my uncle Toby.Ask him, Mr. Yorick, any question
you please.
The fifth Commandment, Trimsaid Yorick, speaking
mildly, and with a gentle nod, as to a modest Catechumen. The
corporal stood silent.You dont ask him right, said my uncle
Toby, raising his voice, and giving it rapidly like the word
of command;The fifthcried my uncle Toby.I
must begin with the first, an please your honour, said the cor-
poral.
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 ones
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 rever-
ence, you see leads into another.If his honour will begin but
with the first
354 VOL. V
THE FIRSTcried my uncle Toby, setting his hand upon
his side* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.
THE SECONDcried my uncle Toby, waving his tobacco-
pipe, as he would have done his sword at the head of a regi-
ment.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, gov-
ernours, 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 obliga-
tions this moment, said my father, to lay out all my aunt Dinahs
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 dost 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 355
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 its powers to receive instruction and to
relish virtue.He that has thee, has little more to wish for;
and he that is so wretched as to want thee,wants 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 well read
the chapter quite thro.
My father read as follows.
The whole secret of health depending upon the due conten-
tion for mastery betwixt the radical heat and the radical mois-
tureYou 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 mas-
tery 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 conomy
O thou eternal maker of all beings!he would cry, striking
his breast with his right hand, (in case he had one)Thou
356 VOL. V
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.
W
ITH 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 nos-
trums, and peripatetic lumber, with which in all ages, they have
first flatterd 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 princi-
pal 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 lordships opinion,
you shall see;but whenI know not:we must
first see what his lordships opinion was.
CHAP. XXXV.
T
HE 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
CHAP. XXXVXXXVI 357
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 distempersa course
of glisters was requisite to carry off redundant humours,and
render the system compleat.
What my father had to say to my lord of Verulams opiates,
his salt-petre, and greasy unctions and glisters, you shall read,
but not to dayor to morrow: time presses upon me,my
reader is impatientI must get forwards.You shall read
the chapter at your leisure, (if you chuse it) as soon as ever the
Tristrapdia 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.
T
HE whole secret of health, said my father, beginning the
sentence again, depending evidently upon the due conten-
tion 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
358 VOL. V
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 vers, is a doubt: however, when the
one decays, the other decays also; and then is produced, either
an unnatural heat, which causes an unnatural drynessor
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.
T
HE description of the siege of Jerico itself, could not have
engaged the attention of my uncle Toby more power-
fully 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,
CHAP. XXXVIIXXXVIII 359
mentally.By Heaven! continued he, communing still with
himself, it would puzzle an dipus 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 allI 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 Lim-

erick, more intelligibly than he had begun it,and so settled
the point for my father at once.
CHAP. XXXVIII.
I
T 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 heavens mercy to us, continued my uncle Toby,
which put it into the corporals head to maintain that due
contention betwixt the radical heat and the radical moisture, by
reinforceing 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
360 VOL. V
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.
Wellsaid my father, with a full aspiration, and pausing a
while after the wordWas 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 fathers 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 fathers leave,tell us honestlywhat is thy opinion con-
cerning this self-same radical heat and radical moisture?
With humble submission to his honours better judgment,
quoth the corporal, making a bow to my uncle TobySpeak
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.
J
UST as the corporal was humming, to beginin waddled
Dr. Slop.Tis not two-pence matterthe 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
CHAP. XXXIXXL 36
a puppy-doghe 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.
T
HE city of Limerick, the siege of which was begun under
his majesty king William himself, the year after I went into
the armylies, 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.
362 VOL. V
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-waterand that the
radical heat, of those who can go to the expence of it, is burnt
brandythe radical heat and moisture of a private man, an
please your honours, is nothing but ditch-waterand a dram
of genevaand give us but enough of it, with a pipe of
tobacco, to give us spirits, and drive away the vapourswe
know not what it is to fear death.
I am at a loss, Captain Shandy, quoth Doctor Slop, to deter-
mine in which branch of learning your servant shines most,
whether in physiology, or divinity.Slop had not forgot Trims
comment upon the sermon.
It is but an hour ago, replied Yorick, since the corporal
was examined in the latter, and passd 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.Im sure of itquoth
Yorick.
CHAP. XLI.
D
OCTOR 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-pdia.Come! chear
up, my lads; Ill shew you landfor when we have tugged
CHAP. XLIXLII 363
through that chapter, the book shall not be opened again this
twelvemonth.Huzza!
CHAP. XLII.

F
IVE 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 -ing it, at Greek and Latin;
Four years at his probations and his negationsthe 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 mans 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 disput-
ing 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 instruc-
tion, than we generally take with it.But alack! all fields
364 VOL. V
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 Virgils 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 doneSo 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 sub-
ject, pro and con, and to say and write all that could be spoken
or written concerning it, without blotting a word, to the admir-
ation of all who beheld himI 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 itthere 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.And your
honour rould with them, captains with captains.Very well,
CHAP. XLIIXLIII 365
said the corporal.But the auxiliaries, my brother is talking
about, answered my uncle Toby,I conceive to be different
things.
You do? said my father, rising up.
CHAP. XLIII.
M
Y 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 childs memory should be exercised, there is
no one idea can enter his brain how barren soever, but a maga-
zine of conceptions and conclusions may be drawn forth from
it.Didst thou ever see a white bear? cried my father, turn-
ing his head round to Trim, who stood at the back of his chair:
No, an please your honour, replied the corporal.But thou
couldst 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?)
366 VOL. V
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.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Dixero si quid fort jocosius, hoc mihi juris
Cum venia dabis. HOR.
- - - - - Si quis calumnietur levius esse quam decet
theologum, aut mordacius quam deceat Chris-
tianumnon Ego, sed Democritus dixit. - - - -
ERASMUS.
V O L. VI.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONDT,
in the Strand. MDCCLXII.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

CHAP. I.

W
ELL not stop two moments, my dear Sir,only,
as we have got thro these five volumes, (do, Sir, sit
down upon a setthey are better than nothing) let us just
look back upon the country we have passd 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 viewd and reviewd 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 sightgood God! what a braying did they all set up
together!
Prithee, shepherd! who keeps all those Jack Asses? * * *
Heaven be their comforterWhat! are they never
curried?Are they never taken in in winter?Bray
braybray. Bray on,the world is deeply your debtor;
louder stillthats nothing;in good sooth, you are ill-used:
Was I a Jack Asse, I solemnly declare, I would bray in
G-sol-re-ut from morning, even unto night.
370 VOL. VI
CHAP. II.
W
HEN 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 Trims 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 offspring 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 childs head.Tis
enough, brother Shandy, 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 publick 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 nurses arms, learned all the sciences and
liberal arts without being taught any one of them?What
shall we say of the great Piereskius?Thats 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
Stevinuss flying chariot.He was a very great man! added
my uncle Toby; (meaning Stevinus)He was so; brother Toby,
CHAP. II 37
said my father, (meaning Piereskius)and had multiplied
his ideas so fast, and increased his knowlege to such a pro-
digious stock, that, if we may give credit to an anecdote concern-
ing him, which we cannot with-hold here, without shaking the
authority of all anecdotes whateverat 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 manage-
ment 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)what are these, to those prodigies of childhood
in Grotius, Scioppius, Heinsius, Politian, Pascal, Joseph Scal-
iger, Ferdinand de Cordou, and otherssome 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
Cordou was so wise at nine,twas thought the Devil was in
him;and at Venice gave such proofs of his knowlege and
goodness, that the monks imagined he was Antichrist, or noth-
ing.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 Mar-
tianus 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 work* the
day he was born;They should have wiped it up, said my
uncle Toby, and said no more about it.
* Nous aurions quelque intert, says Baillet, de montrer quil na rien de
ridicule sil toit vritable, au moins dans le sens nigmatique que Nicius
Erythrus a tch de lui donner. Cet auteur dit que pour comprendre comme
Lipse, a p composer un ouvrage le premier jour de sa vie, il faut simaginer,
que ce premier jour nest pas celui de sa naissance charnelle, mais celui au quel
il a commenc duser de la raison; il veut que ait t a lage de neuf ans; et il
nous veut persuader que ce fut en cet ge, que Lipse fit un poem.Le tour
est ingenieux, &c. &c.
372 VOL. VI
CHAP. III.
W
HEN the cataplasm was ready, a scruple of decorum
had unseasonably rose up in Susannahs conscience,
about holding the candle, whilst Slop tied it on; Slop had not
treated Susannahs distemper with anodines,and so a quarrel
had ensued betwixt them.
Oh! oh!said Slop, casting a glance of undue free-
dom in Susannahs face, as she declined the office;then, I
think I know you, madamYou 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;
Susannahs 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 wont hold
the candle, and lookyou may hold it and shut your eyes:
Thats 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 Slops 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 bodys 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. IVV 373
CHAP. IV.
D
OCTOR 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.
Y
OU see tis high time, said my father, addressing himself
equally to my uncle Toby and Yorick, to take this young
creature out of these womens hands, and put him into those
of a private governor. Marcus Antoninus provided fourteen
governors all at once to superintend his son Commoduss edu-
cation,and in six weeks he cashiered five of them;I know
very well, continued my father, that Commoduss mother was
in love with a gladiator at the time of her conception, which
accounts for a great many of Commoduss cruelties when he
became emperor;but still I am of opinion, that those five
whom Antoninus dismissed, did Commoduss 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 surprized 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
374 VOL. VI
out of doors, because of an indecent motion of his head, which
went backwards and forwards like a flail;or that Democ-
ritus 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
mans 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 neither* 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, facet, 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 fathers other hand,I humbly beg I may recommend poor
Le Fevers son to you;a tear of joy of the first water sparkled
in my uncle Tobys eye,and another, the fellow to it, in the
* Vid. Pellegrina.
CHAP. VVI 375
corporals, as the proposition was made;you will see why
when you read Le Fevers 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.
I
T was some time in the summer of that year in which Dender-
mond 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 fathers 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,
sittingfor in consideration of the corporals 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 fellows 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 corporals 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 togetherBut this is
neither here nor therewhy 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,
376 VOL. VI
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 gentle-
man, 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 gentlemans 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 fellowTrim,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
smoakd about a dozen whiffs.Trim came in front of his
CHAP. VI 377
master and made his bow;my uncle Toby smoakd on, and
said no more.Corporal ! said my uncle Tobythe cor-
poral 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 honours
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. Nich-
olas;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 honours
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, ant please your
honour, to me, quoth the corporal;Ill 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 heres 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 smoaked it.
378 VOL. VI
CHAP. VII.
The Story of LE FEVER continued.
I
T 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 lieutenantIs he in the army then? said my uncle Toby
He is: said the corporalAnd in what regiment? said
my uncle TobyIll tell your honour, replied the corporal,
every thing straight forwards, as I learnt it.Then, Trim, Ill
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 itYour
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,Thats a right distinction, Trim, said my uncle
TobyI 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
CHAP. VII 379
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 com-
pany: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 Shandys 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 mightst 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 fullso 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. Yoricks
curate was smoaking a pipe by the kitchen fire,but said not a
word good or bad to comfort the youth.I thought it wrong;
added the corporalI 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
380 VOL. VI
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 worldTwas 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 shew
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 corporalBut go on, Trim, said my uncle Toby,
with thy story.
When I went up, continued the corporal, into the lieutenants
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
CHAP. VII 38
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 Shandys servant, said he, you
must present my thanks to your master, with my little boys
thanks along with them, for his courtesy to me;if he was of
Levenssaid 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 Angussbut he knows me not,said he, a
second time, musing;possibly he may my storyadded
hepray 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, ant 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 kissd it twiceHere, 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
382 VOL. VI
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 join the regiment in Flanders.
But alas! said the corporal,the lieutenants last days
march is over.Then what is to become of his poor boy? cried
my uncle Toby.
CHAP. VIII.
The Story of LE FEVER continued.
I
T was to my uncle Tobys eternal honour,though I tell
it only for the sake of those, who, when coopd in betwixt a
natural and a positive law, know not for their souls, which way
in the world to turn themselvesThat 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
dinnerthat nevertheless he gave up Dendermond, though
he had already made a lodgment upon the counterscarp;and
bent his whole thoughts towards the private distresses at the
inn; and, except that he ordered the garden gate to be bolted
up, by which he might be said to have turned the siege of
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
recompence 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
CHAP. VIII 383
expensive, and thou knowest he was but a poor lieutenant, with
a son to subsist as well as himself, out of his pay,that thou
didst not make an offer to him of my purse; because, had he
stood in need, thou knowest, 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 womans, and his
boys, 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;Hell drop at
last, said the corporal, and what will become of his boy?
He shall not drop, said my uncle Toby, firmly.
A-well-oday,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 heavens chancery
with the oath, blushd as he gave it in;and the RECORDING
ANGEL as he wrote it down, droppd a tear upon the word, and
blotted it out for ever.
384 VOL. VI
CHAP. IX.

M
Y 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.
T
HE sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in
the village but Le Fevers and his afflicted sons; the hand
of death pressd 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 lieutenants room, and without preface or apology, sat him-
self down upon the chair by the bed-side, and independantly 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 well send for a doctor to see whats
the matter,and well have an apothecary,and the corporal
shall be your nurse;and Ill 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 shewed you the goodness of his nature; to this, there
was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, superadded,
which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take
CHAP. XXI 385
shelter under him; so that before my uncle Toby had half finished
the kind offers he was making to the father, had the son insen-
sibly 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 wistfully in my uncle Tobys face,then cast a look
upon his boy,and that ligament, fine as it was,was never
broken.
Nature instantly ebbd again,the film returned to its
place,the pulse flutteredstoppdwent on
throbdstoppd againmovedstoppdshall I
go on?No.
CHAP. XI.
I
Am so impatient to return to my own story, that what remains
of young Le Fevers, 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 ecclesiasticfor he buried him in his chancel:
And it appears likewise, he preached a funeral sermon over him
I say it appears,for it was Yoricks 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 dispen-
sationI dont like it at all;Though I own there is a world
386 VOL. VI
of WATER-LANDISH knowlege 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
moreand upon a couple Moderato; by which, as far as one
may gather from Altieris Italian dictionary,but mostly from
the authority of a piece of green whipcord, which seemed to
have been the unravelling of Yoricks 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 them-
selves,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 moderatos are five times better than the so,
sos;shew ten times more knowlege 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, wheneer Yoricks
dramatic sermons are offered to the world, though I shall
admit but one out of the whole number of the so, sos, I shall,
nevertheless, adventure to print the two moderatos without
any sort of scruple.
What Yorick could mean by the words lentamente,
tenut,grave,and sometimes adagio,as applied to theo-
logical 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 loctava alta! upon one;Con
strepito upon the back of another;Scicilliana upon a third;
Alla capella upon a fourth;Con larco upon this;
Senza larco upon that.All I know is, that they are musical
terms, and have a meaning;and as he was a musical man, I
CHAP. XI 387
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,what-
ever they may do upon that of others.
Amongst these, there is that particular sermon which has
unaccountably led me into this digressionThe funeral ser-
mon 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 compositionIt 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 some-
thing 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
crows 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 herselfof 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 Yoricks 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, BRAVO
388 VOL. VI
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 some-
times, 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.
W
HEN 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 Tobys 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 Toby gave the corporal;Wear it, Trim, said
my uncle Toby, as long as it will hold together, for the sake
of the poor lieutenantAnd this,said my uncle Toby,
taking up the sword in his hand, and drawing it out of the
scabbard as he spokeand this, Le Fever, Ill 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
CHAP. XIIXIII 389
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 emperors 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 fathers sword, and my uncle
Tobys 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 lieutenants 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 mayAnd 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 Tobys paternal kindness;he
parted from my uncle Toby, as the best of sons from the best of
fathersboth dropped tearsand as my uncle Toby gave
him his last kiss, he slipped sixty guineas, tied up in an old purse
of his fathers, in which was his mothers ring, into his hand,
and bid God bless him.
CHAP. XIII.
L
E 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
390 VOL. VI
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 Susannahs
accident, Le Fever was hourly expected; and was uppermost in
my uncle Tobys mind all the time my father was giving him
and Yorick a description of what kind of a person he would
chuse 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 Fevers name,till the
character, by Yoricks 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 fathers
handsI beg, brother Shandy, said my uncle Toby, I may
recommend poor Le Fevers son to youI beseech you, do,
added YorickHe 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 serjeant Kumbur, and ensign
Well talk of them, said my father, another time.
CHAP. XIV.
W
HAT 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
CHAP. XIVXV 39
him for it,to exalt himself,debased me to death,and
made ten thousand times more of Susannahs accident,
than there was any grounds for; so that in a weeks time, or
less, it was in every bodys 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 evidenceThat 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 itas 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 ham-
pered? said my father.
I would shew him publickly, said my uncle Toby, at the
market cross.
Twill have no effect, said my father.
CHAP. XV.
Ill put him, however, into breeches said my father,let
the world say what it will.
392 VOL. VI
CHAP. XVI.
T
HERE 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, notwithstand-
ing this, (and could you or I have got into the cabinet, or
stood behind the curtain, we should have found it was so)
weighed, poized, and perpendedargued uponcan-
vassed throughentered 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 fathers 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
prod and connd, 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.
T
HE 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
CHAP. XVII 393
sober:Drunkthat their counsels might not want vigour;
and soberthat 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 mar-
riage, 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 con-
sider, 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 conju-
gal; but it is not every author that can try the experiment as the
Goths and Vandals did itor if he can, may it be always for
his bodys health; and to do it, as my father did it,am I sure
it would be always for his souls.
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 backI write one half
full,and tother 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
394 VOL. VI
from my fathers plan, than my fathers 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 irreconcileable effects, flow uniformly from the wise
and wonderful mechanism of nature,of which,be hers 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.
W
E should begin, said my father, turning himself half round
in bed, and shifting his pillow a little towards my
mothers, as he opened the debateWe 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.
CHAP. XVIII 395
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,rejoind 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 mutter-
ing which, he plucked his pillow a little further from my
mothers,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, hell look like a beast in em.
He will be very aukward in them at first, replied my
mother.
And twill be lucky, if thats the worst ont, added my
father.
It will be very lucky, answered my mother.
I suppose, replied my father,making some pause first,
hell be exactly like other peoples 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.
396 VOL. VI
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 my mother.
Though if he gets a gig or a topPoor 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 dont you think it right? added my father, pressing

the point home to her.
Perfectly, said my mother, if it pleases you, Mr. Shandy.

Theres 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.
A
FTER 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 Rubeniuss business to have given
my father some lights.On the contrary, my father might as
CHAP. XIX 397
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 Pnula.
The Lacerna, with its Cucullus.
The Paludamentum.
The Prtexta.
The Sagum, or soldiers 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 hobnails 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.
398 VOL. VI
The laced shoe.
The braided shoe.
The calceus incisus.
And The calceus rostratus.
Rubenius shewed my father how well they all fitted,in what
manner they laced on,with what points, straps, thongs, latch-
ets, 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 contex-
ture of the wool, with silk and goldThat 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 them-
selves by the fineness and whiteness of their cloaths; 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 cloaths to the
fuller, to be cleaned and whitened;but that the inferior
people, to avoid that expence, generally wore brown cloaths,
and of a something coarser texture,till towards the beginning
of Augustuss 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, Budus, Salmasius, Lipsius, Lazius, Isaac Causabon,
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. 2.honestly said, he
knew not what it was,whether a fibula,a stud,a
button,a loop,a buckle,or clasps and keepers.
CHAP. XIXXXI 399
My father lost the horse, but not the saddleThey
are hooks and eyes, said my fatherand with hooks and eyes
he ordered my breeches to be made.
CHAP. XX.
W
E are now going to enter upon a new scene of
events.
Leave we then the breeches in the taylors 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-curantes 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 dis-
honours.
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.
I
F the reader has not a clear conception of the rood and the
half of ground which lay at the bottom of my uncle Tobys
kitchen garden, and which was the scene of so many of his
delicious hours,the fault is not in me,but in his imagina-
tion;for I am sure I gave him so minute a description, I was
almost ashamed of it.
400 VOL. VI
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 NATUREtwas
enoughNature 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, &c.he set the corporal to workand
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
CHAP. XXIXXII 40
his works on the bowling green, and for that reason generally
ran his first and second parallels betwixt two rows of his cab-
bages and his collyflowers; the conveniences and inconveniences
of which will be considered at large in the history of my uncle
Tobys and the corporals campaigns, of which, this Im 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 appre-
hend 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 worksurely they
had better be printed apart,well consider the affair
so take the following sketch of them in the mean time.
CHAP. XXII.
W
HEN the town, with its works, was finished, my uncle
Toby and the corporal began to run their first parallel
not at random, or any howbut 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 lodgment,my
uncle Toby made a lodgment too.And when the face of a
bastion was battered down, or a defence ruined,the corporal
took his mattock and did as much,and so on;gaining
ground, and making themselves masters of the works one after
another, till the town fell into their hands.
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
402 VOL. VI
with a spade on his shoulder to execute the contents.What
an honest triumph in my uncle Tobys 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 rampartsHeaven! 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 inter-
ruption 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 happyIn 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 years campaign was carried on from beginning to
end, in the plain and simple method Ive related.
In the second year, in which my uncle Toby took Liege and
Ruremond, he thought he might afford the expence of four
handsome draw-bridges, of two of which I have given an exact
description, in the former part of my work.
At the latter end of the same year he added a couple of gates
with portcullises:These last were converted afterwards into
orgues, as the better thing; and during the winter of the same
year, my uncle Toby, instead of a new suit of cloaths, 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
CHAP. XXIIXXIII 403
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 fieldBut tis not my brother Tobys
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 years 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 Tobys
campaigns,when upon his taking Amberg, Bonn, and Rhin-
berg, and Huy and Limbourg, one after another, a thought
came into the corporals head, that to talk of taking so many
towns, without one TOWN to show for it,was a very nonsensi-
cal 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, &c. &c.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
404 VOL. VI
corporal proposed, but to have every house independant, to
hook on, or off, so as to 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 summerthe town
was a perfect ProteusIt 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 Tobys 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 Tobys 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 fathers 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 ammunitionbecause his
great artillery would not bear powder; and twas well for the
Shandy family they would notFor 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
Tobys 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 prin-
cipal strength lay in invention, supplied by an entire new system
of battering of his own,without which, this had been objected
CHAP. XXIIIXXIV 405
to by military critics, to the end of the world, as one of the great
desiderata of my uncle Tobys apparatus.
This will not be explained the worse, for setting off, as I
generally do, at a little distance from the subject.
CHAP. XXIV.
W
ITH two or three other trinkets, small in themselves,
but of great regard, which poor Tom, the corporals
unfortunate brother, had sent him over, with the account of his
marriage with the Jews widowthere was
A Montero-cap and two Turkish tobacco pipes.
The Montero-cap I shall describe by and bye.The Turk-
ish 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, tippd
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 brothers 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 quartermaster, 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
406 VOL. VI
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.
Ill 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 honours satisfaction.
The completion was no further off, than the very next morn-
ing; 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. Magdalens 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 oclock, which was half an
hour later than his usual time, before my uncle Toby sallied out.
CHAP. XXV 407
CHAP. XXV.
M
Y uncle Toby had scarce turned the corner of his yew
hedge, which separated his kitchen garden from his bowl-
ing green, when he perceived the corporal had began the attack
without him.
Let me stop and give you a picture of the corporals 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 shouldst 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 spight of their reverencesthe
occasion is lostfor 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 whatwhat is this, to that future and dreaded
page, where I look towards the velvet pall, decorated with
the military ensigns of thy masterthe firstthe 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;whereall my fathers systems shall be baffled by his
sorrows; and, in spight 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
408 VOL. VI
themWhen 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 plainwhen I shall arrive at this dreaded page, deal
not with me, then, with a stinted hand.
CHAP. XXVI.
T
HE corporal, who the night before had resolved in his
mind, to supply the grand desideratum, of keeping up some-
thing 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 smoaking tobacco against the town, out of one
of my uncle Tobys six field pieces, which were planted on each
side of his sentry-box; the means of effecting which occurring
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 taggd 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 knowlege. Let no man
who has read my fathers 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 knowest how I love them;
thou knowest the secrets of my heart, and that I would
this moment give my shirtThou art a fool, Shandy, says
CHAP. XXVIXXVII 409
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.
T
HE 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 Tobys sentry-box, leaving only
an interval of about a yard and a half betwixt the three, on the
right and left, for the convenience of charging, &c.and the
sake possibly of two batteries, which he might think double
the honour of one.
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 tippd with silver, which
appertained to the battery on the left, betwixt the finger and
thumb of the otherand with his right knee fixed firm upon
the ground, as if in the front rank of his platoon, was the
corporal, with his montero-cap upon his head, furiously playing
off his two cross batteries at the same time against the counter-
guard, which faced the counterscarp, where the attack was to
40 VOL. VI
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.
M
Y uncle Toby took the ivory pipe out of the corporals
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 mouththen
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 Tobymy uncle Toby
put it to his lips,drew it back directly,gave a peep over
the horn-beam hedge;never did my uncle Tobys 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! dont go into the sentry-box with the
pipe,theres no trusting a mans self with such a thing in such
a corner.
CHAP. XXIX.
I
Beg the reader will assist me here, to wheel off my uncle
Tobys 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;
CHAP. XXIXXXX 4
that done, my dear friend Garrick, well 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 hearts content.
Vain science! thou assists us in no case of this kindand 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 canyou 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 croud in upon me
ten pages at least too soon, and take up that time, which I ought
to bestow upon facts.
CHAP. XXX.
O
F 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
42 VOL. VI
study out of my draw-well, only for five minutes, to tell you
their namesrecollect them I cannotso 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 Coun-
tess 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 goddessThe truth is, they had all of them
something else to doand so had my uncle Tobytill Fate
till Fate I say, envying his name the glory of being handed
down to posterity with Aldrovanduss and the rest,she basely
patched up the peace of Utrecht.
Believe me, Sirs, twas the worst deed she did that year.
CHAP. XXXI.
A
MONGST 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 after-
wards, yet Calais itself left not a deeper scar in Marys heart,
than Utrecht upon my uncle Tobys. To the end of his life he
never could hear Utrecht mentioned upon any account what-
ever,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 conse-
quently 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 yourselfwould
always console my uncle Toby upon these occasions, in a way,
which shewed 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,
CHAP. XXXI 43
by Gods 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 fathers 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 Tobys, 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
fathers papers, with here and there an insertion of his own,
betwixt two crooks, thus [ ], and is endorsed,
My brother TOBYs justification of his own principles and con-
duct in wishing to continue the war.
I may safely say, I have read over this apologetical oration of
my uncle Tobys a hundred times, and think it so fine a model
of defence,and shews 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.
44 VOL. VI
CHAP. XXXII.
My uncle TOBYs 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, dispo-
sitions, 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 knowlege, 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 itSuch 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
CHAP. XXXII 45
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 itwas 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 Eng-
land were handed around the school,were they not all pur-
chased 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
weekwas 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 lifeto 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 thisand tis another thing to
reflect on the miseries of war;to view the desolations of whole
46 VOL. VI
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 Fevers
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 NATUREthat 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 honourwhat 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 particu-
lar, 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 readerI say Christianhoping he
is oneand if he is not, I am sorry for itand only beg
he will consider the matter with himself, and not lay the blame
entirely upon this book,
I told him, Sirfor 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 readers fancywhich, 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, neverthe-
less, 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 itand now, you see, I am
lost myself !
CHAP. XXXIIIXXXIV 47
But tis my fathers fault; and whenever my brains come
to be dissected, you will perceive, without spectacles, that he
has left a large uneven thread, as you sometimes see in an
unsaleable piece of cambrick, running along the whole length
of the web, and so untowardly, you cannot so much as cut out
a * *, (here I hang up a couple of lights again)or a fillet, or
a thumb-stall, but it is seen or 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 Tobys 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 dis-
mounts his horse, which as good as says to him, Ill 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 allhis horse
rather flung himand 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 Novem-
ber, 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.
48 VOL. VI
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 spareto spare the mole,
for the moles sake; which, in its naked situation, could be no
more than an object of pityand 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, negoti-
ators, 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 corporalIt gives me concern always when I hear
it, Trim, said my uncle Toby,for they dont 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 pioneers
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,
CHAP. XXXIVXXXV 49
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 well 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, well embark for England.
We are there, quoth the corporal, recollecting himselfVery
true, said my uncle Tobylooking at the church.
CHAP. XXXV.
A
Delusive, delicious consultation or two of this kind, betwixt
my uncle Toby and Trim, upon the demolition of Dun-
kirk,for a moment rallied back the ideas of those pleasures,
which were slipping from under him:stillstill all went on
heavilythe magic left the mind the weakerSTILLNESS,
with SILENCE at her back, entered the solitary parlour, and
drew their gauzy mantle over my uncle Tobys 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 mans 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 Bastile, and awake with it
streaming in his head.
Softer visions,gentler vibrations stole sweetly in upon
420 VOL. VI
his slumbers;the trumpet of war fell out of his hands,he
took up the lute, sweet instrument! of all others the most deli-
cate! the most difficult!how wilt thou touch it, my dear
uncle Toby?
CHAP. XXXVI.
N
OW, because I have once or twice said, in my inconsider-
ate way of talking, That I was confident the following
memoirs of my uncle Tobys courtship of widow Wadman,
whenever I got time to write them, would turn out one of the
most compleat systems, both of the elementary and practical
part of love and love-making, that ever was addressed to the
worldare 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 tento determine, with Ficinus, How many
parts of itthe 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 sixrashly 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
! O rare! tis fine reasoning, Sir, indeed!
and most nobly do you aim
at truth, when you philosophize about it in your moods and
passions.
CHAP. XXXVIXXXVII 42
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 Atius, who always begun with a cooling glyster
of hempseed and bruised cucumbers;and followed on with
thin potations of water lillies and purslaneto which he added
a pinch of snuff, of the herb Hanea;and where Atius durst
venture it,his topaz-ring.
The other, that of Gordonius, who (in his cap. 5. 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 Tobys affairs: I must anticipate thus
much, That from his theories of love, (with which, by the way,
he contrived to crucify my uncle Tobys 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 taylor for buckram, whilst he was
making my uncle Toby a new pair of breeches, he produced
Gordoniuss 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
smoaked it down as he did, it might have had a vile effect upon
my father too.
CHAP. XXXVII.

T
WILL come out of itself by and bye.All I con-
tend 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
422 VOL. VI
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 Platos 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 concupis-
cence covet any thing in this world, more concupiscible than
widow Wadman.
CHAP. XXXVIII.
T
O conceive this right,call for pen and inkheres paper
ready to your hand.Sit down, Sir, paint her to your
own mindas like your mistress as you canas unlike
your wife as your conscience will let youtis all one to me
please but your own fancy in it.
CHAP. XXXVIII 423
424 VOL. VI
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 IGNOR-
ANCE cannot misrepresent.
CHAP. XXXIX.
A
S Susannah was informed by an express from Mrs. Bridget,
of my uncle Tobys 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 Tobys
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
sayis her misfortunebut 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.
CHAP. XXXIXXL 425
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 prop-
osition,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 him-
self * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * *.
CHAP. XL.
I
Am now beginning to get fairly into my work; and by the
help of a vegitable diet, with a few of the cold seeds, I make
no doubt but I shall be able to go on with my uncle Tobys
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
426 VOL. VI
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 Casses 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 minis-
ters of state; and when compared with what men have done,
or with my own transgressions at the letters A B Dthey vanish
into nothing.
In this last volume I have done better stillfor from the end
of Le Fevers episode, to the beginning of my uncle Tobys
campaigns,I have scarce stepped a yard out of my way.
If I mend at this rate, it is not impossibleby the good
leave of his grace of Beneventos devilsbut 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-masters 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-plantersis 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 birth-day suits!
What a journey!
Pray can you tell me,that is, without anger, before I write
CHAP. XL 427
my chapter upon straight linesby what mistakewho
told them soor 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.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Non enim excursus hic ejus, sed opus ipsum est.
PLIN. Lib. quintus Epistola sexta.
V O L. VI I.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONT,
in the Strand. M DCC LXV.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

CHAP. I.
N
OI 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 leaveand in another place(but where, I cant
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 itI 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 muchmuch
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 doorye bad him come again; and in so gay a
432 VOL. VII
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 storyand I was that moment tell-
ing Eugenius a most tawdry one in my way, of a nun who
fancied herself a shell-fish, and of a monk damnd for eating
a muscle, and was shewing 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 finishd 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 enterd the worldI care not which way he enterd,
quoth I, provided he be not in such a hurry to take me out with
himfor 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 scatterd spirits remain, and these
two spider legs of mine (holding one of them up to him) are
able to support mehad I not better, Eugenius, fly for my life?
tis my advice, my dear Tristram, said Eugeniusthen by
heaven! I will lead him a dance he little thinks offor I will
gallop, quoth I, without looking once behind me to the banks
of the Garonne; and if I hear him clattering at my heelsIll
scamper away to mount Vesuviusfrom thence to Joppa,
and from Joppa to the worlds end, where, if he follows me, I
pray God he may break his neck
He runs more risk there, said Eugenius, than thou.
Eugeniuss wit and affection brought blood into the cheek
from whence it had been some months banishdtwas a vile
moment to bid adieu in; he led me to my chaiseAllons!
CHAP. III 433
said I; the post boy gave a crack with his whipoff I went
like a cannon, and in half a dozen bounds got into Dover.
CHAP. II.
N
OW hang it! quoth I, as I lookd towards the French
coasta man should know something of his own country
too, before he goes abroadand 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 oBecket,
or any one elseI skipd 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,
alreadywhat 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 fixd and volatile salts,
are all jumbled into one massgood g! every thing turns
round in it like a thousand whirlpoolsId give a shilling to
know if I shant write the clearer for it
Sick! sick! sick! sick!
When shall we get to land? captainthey have hearts like
stonesO I am deadly sick!reach me that thing, boy
tis the most discomfiting sicknessI wish I was at the
bottomMadam! how is it with you? Undone! undone!
unO! undone! sirWhat the first time?No, tis the
second, third, sixth, tenth time, sir,hey-daywhat a tram-
pling over head!hollo! cabin boy! whats the matter
The wind choppd about! sDeath!then I shall meet him
full in the face.
434 VOL. VII
What luck!tis choppd about again, masterO the
devil chop it
Captain, quoth she, for heavens sake, let us get ashore.
CHAP. III.
I
T 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 youll 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 chuse to go by Beauvais.
CHAP. IV.
N
OW 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 amissthat 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 omy 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 dor
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 presentfrom the great Addison
who did it with his satchel of school-books hanging at his a
and galling his beasts crupper at every strokethere is not a
galloper of us all who might not have gone on ambling quietly
CHAP. IVV 435
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 appealI 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 anotherI 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 strangers curiosity in the town
that you would take me for the town clerk of Calais itselfand
where, sir, would be the wonder? was not Democritus, who
laughed ten times more than Itown-clerk of Abdera? and was
not (I forget his name) who had more discretion than us both,
town-clerk of Ephesus?it should be pennd moreover,
Sir, with so much knowledge and good sense, and truth, and
precision
Nayif you dont believe me, you may read the chapter
for your pains.
CHAP. V.
C
ALAIS, Calatium, Calusium, Calesium.
This town, if we may trust its archives, the authority of
which I see no reason to call in question in this placewas 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 suburbsit must have
grown up by little and little, I suppose, to its 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
436 VOL. VII
conjecture of emfor as there are fourteen thousand inhabi-
tants in the town, if the church holds them all, it must be
considerably largeand if it will nottis a very great pity they
have not anotherit 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 timeit is
decorated with eleven altars, most of which are rather fine than
beautiful. The great altar is a master-piece in its kind; tis of
white marble, and as I was told near sixty feet highhad 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 himselfhe must not omit however taking notice
of La Tour de Guet, upon any account; tis so called from its
CHAP. V 437
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 remark-
able that at the Tte 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 incon-
veniences 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 rankd 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 Rapins own words:
438 VOL. VII
CHAP. VI.

B
UT courage! gentle reader!I scorn ittis
enough to have thee in my powerbut to make use
of the advantage which the fortune of the pen has now gained
over thee, would be too muchNo! 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 sell thee,naked as I am, I would
browse upon the mountains, and smile that the north wind
brought me neither my tent or my supper.
So put on, my brave boy! and make the best of thy way to
Boulogne.
CHAP. VII.

B
OULOGNE!hah!so we are all got together
debtors and sinners before heaven; a jolly set of us
but I cant stay and quaff it off with youIm pursued
myself like a hundred devils, and shall be overtaken before I
can well change horses:for heavens sake, make haste
Tis for high treason, quoth a very little man, whisper-
ing as low as he could to a very tall man that stood next
himOr else for murder; quoth the tall manWell
thrown size-ace! quoth I. No; quoth a third, the gentleman has
been committing.
Ah! ma chere fille! said I, as she trippd 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 cant be
that, quoth a fourth(she made a curtsy to meI kissd my
hand) tis debt; continued he: Tis certainly for debt; quoth a
fifth; I would not pay that gentlemans debts, quoth Ace, for a
thousand pounds; Nor would I, quoth Size, for six times the
sumWell thrown, Size-Ace, again! quoth I;but I have no
CHAP. VIIVIII 439
debt but the debt of NATURE, and I want but patience of her,
and I will pay her every farthing I owe herHow 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 mehe never would have fol-
lowed me but for youif it be but for a stage, or two, just to
give me start of him, I beseech you, madamdo, 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 HUMANI-
TIES.
There cannot be a finer; quoth I.
CHAP. VIII.
W
HEN the precipitancy of a mans wishes hurries on his
ideas ninety times faster than the vehicle he rides in
woe be to truth! and woe be to the vehicle and its tackling (let
em be made of what stuff you will) upon which he breathes
forth the disappointment of his soul !
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 happend;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;
440 VOL. VII
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.
Whats wrong now?Diable!a ropes broke!a
knot has slipt!a staples drawn!a bolts to whittle!
a tag, a rag, a jag, a strap, a buckle, or a buckles tongue,
want altering.
Now true as all this is, I never think myself impowerd 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 timesor that I will be
damnd if ever I get into anotherbut I take the matter coolly
before me, and consider, that some tag, or rag, or jag, or bolt,
or buckle, or buckles tongue, will ever be a wanting, or want
altering, travel where I willso 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
crammd into the chaise-pocket, and was remounted and going
leisurely on, to relish it the betterGet on, my lad, said I,
brisklybut 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 lookd back: the
dog grinnd intelligence from his right ear to his left, and behind
his sooty muzzle discoverd such a pearly row of teeth, that
Sovereignty would have pawnd her jewels for them.
Just heaven!
What masticators!

{
What bread!
and so, as he finishd the last mouthful of it, we enterd the town
of Montreuil.
CHAP. IX 44
CHAP. IX.
T
HERE 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 itto be sure it looks most pitifully.
There is one thing however in it at present very handsome;
and that is the inn-keepers 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 stockingYes, yesI see, you cunning
gipsy!tis long, and taperyou need not pin it to your knee
and that tis your ownand fits you exactly.
That Nature should have told this creature a word about
a statues thumb!
But as this sample is worth all their thumbsbesides 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 drawingmay 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 determind a pencil, as if I had her in the wettest
drapery.
But your worships chuse 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 hitherevery 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 comeso your worships and reverences, may all measure
them at your leisuresbut he who measures thee, Janatone,
must do it nowthou carriest the principles of change within
thy frame; and considering the chances of a transitory life, I
would not answer for thee a moment; eer twice twelve months
442 VOL. VII
are passd and gone, thou mayest grow out like a pumkin, and
lose thy shapesor, thou mayest go off like a flower, and
lose thy beautynay, thou mayest go off like a hussy
and lose thyself.I would not answer for my aunt Dinah,
was she alivefaith, scarce for her picturewere it but
painted by Reynolds
But if I go on with my drawing, after naming that son of
Apollo, Ill be shot
So you must een 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 haveyou 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.
A
LL which being considered, and that Death moreover might
be much nearer me than I imaginedI wish I was at
Abbeville, quoth I, were it only to see how they card and spin
so off we set.
*de Montreuil a Nampont poste et demi de Nampont a Bernay
poste
de Bernay a Nouvionposte
de Nouvion a ABBEVILLE poste
but the carders and spinners were all gone to bed.
* Vid. Book of French post-roads, page 36. edition of 762.
CHAP. XIXII 443
CHAP. XI.
W
HAT 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.
W
AS I in a condition to stipulate with death, as I am this
moment with my apothecary, how and where I will take
his glisterI 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 housebut 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 attentionbut
mark. This inn, should not be the inn at Abbevilleif 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! Ill raise a clatter
in the house, shall wake the dead.
444 VOL. VII
CHAP. XIII.
M
AKE 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 impreca-
tions which David ever utterd against the enemies of the Lord
and, as if he had said, I wish them no worse luck than always
to be rolling aboutSo 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 worlds asleep!bring out the
horsesgrease the wheelstie on the mailand drive
a nail into that mouldingIll not lose a moment
Now the wheel we are talking of, and whereinto (but not
whereonto, for that would make an Ixions wheel of it) he
curseth his enemies, according to the bishops habit of body,
should certainly be a post-chaise wheel, whether they were set
up in Palestine at that time or notand 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 ,
[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 fibreREASON, is half of it, SENSE; and
the measure of heaven itself is but the measure of our present
appetites and concoctions
CHAP. XIIIXIV 445
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. 3. 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 damnd to the end of the world.
From what he has made this second estimateunless from
the parental goodness of GodI dont knowI am much
more at a loss what could be in Franciscus Ribberas 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
numberhe 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 Lessiuss 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
446 VOL. VII
goddess! for now ye will all come into play again, and with
Priapus at your tailswhat 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 intrusted it with the post-boy, as soon as ever I got off the
stones; he gave a crack with his whip to balance the compliment;
and with the thill-horse trotting, and a sort of an up and a
down of the other, we danced it along to Ailly au clochers,
famed in days of yore for the finest chimes in the world; but we
danced through it without musicthe 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 beforeand that wasthat
Janatone went there to school.
CHAP. XVI.
I
N the whole catalogue of those whiffling vexations which
come puffing across a mans canvass, there is not one of a
more teasing and tormenting nature, than this particular one
which I am going to describeand 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 sleeptho
CHAP. XVI 447
you are passing perhaps through the finest countryupon the
best roads,and in the easiest carriage for doing it in the
worldnay was you sure you could sleep fifty miles straight
forwards, without once opening your eyesnay 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 awakenay perhaps betterYet the incessant
returns of paying for the horses at every stage,with the
necessity thereupon of putting your hand into your pocket, and
counting out from thence, three livres fifteen sous (sous by sous)
puts an end to so much of the project, that you cannot execute
above six miles of it (or supposing it is a post and a half, that is
but nine)were it to save your soul from destruction.
Ill be even with em, quoth I, for Ill 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-boys 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
passor 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 blowsbut then, by heaven!
you have paid but for a single postwhereas 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 Cur offers you
a pinch of snuffor a poor soldier shews you his legor
a shaveling his boxor the priestesse of the cistern will
water your wheelsthey do not want itbut 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
passd clean by the stables of Chantilly
But the postillion first affirming, and then persisting in
448 VOL. VII
it to my face, that there was no mark upon the two sous piece,
I opend my eyes to be convincedand seeing the mark upon
it, as plain as my noseI leapd out of the chaise in a pas-
sion, and so saw every thing at Chantilly in spite.I tried it
but for three posts and a half, but believe tis the best prin-
ciple in the world to travel speedily upon; for as few objects
look very inviting in that moodyou have little or nothing to
stop you; by which means it was that I passd 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 Judass lanternnor for that either,
only as it grows dark, it might be of use.
CHAP. XVII.
C
RACK, crackcrack, crackcrack, crackso
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 smellscrack, crack
crack, crackWhat a fuss thou makest!as if it con-
cernd the good people to be informd, That a man with pale
face, and clad in black, had the honour to be driven into Paris
at nine oclock at night, by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin
turned up with red calamancocrack, crackcrack,
crackcrack, crackI wish thy whip
But tis the spirit of thy nation; so crackcrack on.
Ha!and no one gives the wall !but in the SCHOOL
of URBANITY herself, if the walls are beshthow 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
CHAP. XVIIXVIII 449
rare! sallad and soupsoup and salladsallad and soup,
encore
Tis too much for sinners.
Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can that uncon-
scionable coachman talk so much bawdy to that lean horse?
dont 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 eightnine
ten.Ten cooks shops! and twice the number of barbers! and
all within three minutes driving! one would think that all the
cooks in the world on some great merry-meeting with the
barbers, by joint consent had saidCome, let us all go live at
Paris: the French love good eatingthey are all gourmands
we shall rank high; if their god is their bellytheir
cooks must be gentlemen: and forasmuch as the periwig maketh
the man, and the periwig-maker maketh the periwigergo,
would the barbers say, we shall rank higher stillwe shall be
above you allwe shall be * Capitouls at leastpardi ! 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.
T
HE 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 usor
* Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, &c. &c. &c.
450 VOL. VII
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 atI 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-lightI give it upI have said before, there
was no depending upon itand I repeat it again; but not because
the lights and shades are too sharpor the tints confounded
or that there is neither beauty or keeping, &c. .. . for thats not
truthbut it is an uncertain light in this respect, That in all the
five hundred grand Htels, which they number up to you in
Parisand the five hundred good things, at a modest compu-
tation (for tis only allowing one good thing to a Htel) 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 Citythere 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. Antonys, sixty eight streets.
CHAP. XVIIIXIX 45
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-lighttheir gates, their bridges,
their squares, their statues - - - - and have crusaded it moreover
through all their parish churches, by no means omitting St.
Roche and Sulplice - - - 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 chuse
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,
* EARTH NO SUCH FOLKS !NO FOLKS EER 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.
I
N 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
analysisor 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 natureonly tis an undercraft of authors to
keep up a good understanding amongst words, as politicians do
amongst mennot knowing how near they may be under a
* Non Orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam
ulla parem.
452 VOL. VII
necessity of placing them to each otherwhich point being now
gaind, 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 sentimentsonly 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 ones service
it has spoiled me the digestion of a good supper, and brought
on a bilious diarrha, which has brought me back again to my
first principle on which I set outand with which I shall now
scamper it away to the banks of the Garonne
No;I cannot stop a moment to give you the charac-
ter of the peopletheir geniustheir mannerstheir cus-
tomstheir lawstheir religiontheir governmenttheir
manufacturestheir commercetheir 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
Stillstill I must awaythe roads are pavedthe posts
are shortthe days are longtis no more than noonI shall
be at Fontainbleau before the king
Was he going there? not that I know
CHAP. XX.
N
OW 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
CHAP. XXXXI 453
vehicles with the mountains of baggage which you lay both
before and behind upon themand then consider their puny
horses, with the very little they give themtis 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 as much sustenance, as if you gave
him a peck of corn: now as these words cost nothing, I long
from my soul to tell the reader what they are; but here is the
questionthey must be told him plainly, and with the most
distinct articulation, or it will answer no endand yet to do it
in that plain waythough their reverences may laugh at it in
the bed-chamberfull 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 chuses to lend meI might not
dissatisfy the other which he keeps to himself.
My ink burns my finger to tryand when I have
twill have a worse consequenceit will burn (I fear) my
paper.
No;I dare not
But if you wish to know how the abbess of Andoillets, and
a novice of her convent got over the difficulty (only first wishing
myself all imaginable success)Ill tell you without the least
scruple.
CHAP. XXI.
T
HE abbess of Andoillets, 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 remedyfirst, prayers and thanksgiving; then invo-
cations to all the saints in heaven promiscuouslythen
454 VOL. VII
particularly to every saint who had ever had a stiff leg before
herthen 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 youththen wrapping it up in her
veil when she went to bedthen cross-wise her rosary
then bringing in to her aid the secular arm, and anointing it with
oils and hot fat of animalsthen treating it with emollient
and resolving fomentationsthen 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 lapthen decoctions of wild chic-
ory, water cresses, chervil, sweet cecily and cochleariaand
nothing all this while answering, was prevailed on at last to try
the hot baths of Bourbonso having first obtaind leave of
the visitor-general to take care of her existenceshe 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 abbesss cast poultices,
&c.had gained such an interest, that overlooking a sciatical
old nun, who might have been set up for ever by the hot baths
of Bourbon, Margarita, the little novice, was elected as the
companion of the journey.
An old calesh, belonging to the abbesse, lined with green
frize, was ordered to be drawn out into the sunthe 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 unravelledthe under-gardener dressd the
muleteers hat in hot-wine-leesand a taylor sat musically
at it, in a shed overagainst 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 Andoillets held a council
of wheels; and by seven, the morning after, all lookd spruce,
and was ready at the gate of the convent for the hot-baths of
Bourbontwo rows of the unfortunate stood ready there an
hour before.
CHAP. XXI 455
The abbess of Andoillets, supported by Margarita the nov-
ice, 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 lookd upeach (the sciatical poor nun excepted)
each streamd out the end of her veil in the airthen kissd the
lilly hand which let it go: the good abbess and Margarita laid
their hands saint-wise upon their breastslookd up to
heaventhen to themand lookd 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, broad-set, 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 rodehe 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 happend, that all his wine had
leakd out at the legal vent of the borrachio, before one half of
the journey was finishd.
Man is a creature born to habitudes. The day had been
sultrythe evening was deliciousthe wine was generous
the Burgundian hill on which it grew was steepa little tempt-
ing bush over the door of a cool cottage at the foot of it,
hung vibrating in full harmony with the passionsa gentle air
rustled distinctly through the leavesComecome, thirsty
muleteercome 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 abbesss and Margaritas faces (as he did it)as
much as to say, here I amhe gave a second good crack
456 VOL. VII
as much as to say to his mules, get onso slinking behind,
he enterd 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 Andoillets, &c. &c. and out of friendship for the abbess
and Mademoiselle Margarita, who was only in her noviciate,
he had come along with them from the confines of Savoy, &c.
&c. and as how she had got a white swelling by her
devotionsand what a nation of herbs he had procured to
mollify her humours, &c. &c. and that if the waters of Bourbon
did not mend that legshe might as well be lame of both
&c. &c. &c.He so contrived his story as absolutely to forget
the heroine of itand with her, the little novice, and what was
a more ticklish point to be forgot than boththe two mules;
who being creatures that take advantage of the world, inasmuch
as their parents took it of themand they not being in a con-
dition to return the obligation downwards (as men and women
and beasts are)they do it side-ways, and long-ways, and back-
waysand up hill, and down hill, and which way they can.
Philosophers, with all their ethics, have never considered
this rightlyhow should the poor muleteer then, in his cups,
consider it at all ? he did not in the leasttis time we do; let us
leave him then in the vortex of his element, the happiest and
most thoughtless of mortal menand for a moment let us
look after the mules, the abbess, and Margarita.
By virtue of the muleteers two last strokes, the mules had
gone quietly on, following their own consciences up the hill, till
they had conquerd 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, Ill go no furtherAnd if I
do, replied the otherthey shall make a drum of my hide.
And so with one consent they stoppd thus
CHAP. XXIIXXIII 457
CHAP. XXII.
Get on with you, said the abbess.
Wh yshyshcried Margarita.
Sh ashu ushu u sh awshawd the
abbess.
Whuvwwhewwwwhuvd Margarita, purs-
ing up her sweet lips betwixt a hoot and a whistle.
Thumpthumpthumpobstreperated the abbess of
Andoillets with the end of her gold-headed cane against the
bottom of the calesh
The old mule let a f
CHAP. XXIII.
W
E are ruind and undone, my child, said the abbess to
Margaritawe shall be here all nightwe shall be
plunderdwe shall be ravishd
We shall be ravishd, said Margarita, as sure as a gun.
Sancta Maria! cried the abbess (forgetting the O!)why was
I governd by this wicked stiff joint? why did I leave the convent
of Andoillets? 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 servantwhy was I not content to put it here, or there,
any where rather than be in this strait?
Strait! said the abbess.
Straitsaid the novice; for terrour had struck their under-
standingsthe one knew not what she saidthe other
what she answerd.
O my virginity! virginity! cried the abbess.
inity!inity! said the novice, sobbing.
458 VOL. VII
CHAP. XXIV.
M
Y dear mother, quoth the novice, coming a little to her-
self,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-willd, the moment
he hears them utterd, he obeys. They are words magic! cried the
abbess, in the utmost horrourNo; replied Margarita calmly
but they are words sinfulWhat are they? quoth the abbess,
interrupting her: They are sinful in the first degree, answered
Margarita,they are mortaland if we are ravishd and die
unabsolved of them, we shall bothbut you may pronounce
them to me, quoth the abbess of AndoilletsThey cannot,
my dear mother, said the novice, be pronounced at all; they will
make all the blood in ones body fly up into ones faceBut
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 unemploydno 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 latethe horrid words are
pronounced this moment
and how to tell themYe, who can speak of every
thing existing, with unpolluted lipsinstruct meguide
me
CHAP. XXV.
A
LL 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
CHAP. XXV 459
halvedby taking, either only the half of it, and leaving the
restor, by taking it all, and amicably halving it betwixt your-
self and another personin 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 pronounc-
ing the syllable ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, were it from our matins to
our vespers: Therefore, my dear daughter, continued the abbess
of AndoilletsI will say bou, and thou shalt say ger; and then
alternately, as there is no more sin in fou than in bouThou
shalt say fouand 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, Bou bou bou
Margarita,
}
ger, ger, ger
Margarita, Fou fou fou
Abbess,
}
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, Bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- bou-
Margarita,
}
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 stillGod preserve me! said the abbessThey do
not understand us, cried MargaritaBut the Devil does, said
the abbess of Andoillets.
460 VOL. VII
CHAP. XXVI.
W
HAT 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! Theres
FONTAINBLEAU, and SENS, and JOIGNY, and AUXERRE, and
DIJON the capital of Burgundy, and CHALLON, and Mcon the
capital of the Mconese, and a score more upon the road to
LYONSand now I have run them overI 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 crossthe peace of meekness, or the
contentment of resignationI 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 everYou would have come with a better
appetite from it
I wish I never had wrote it: but as I never blot any thing
outlet us use some honest means to get it out of our heads
directly.
Pray reach me my fools capI fear you sit upon it,
Madamtis under the cushionIll 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-dumdye-dum
fiddledumb c.
And now, Madam, we may venture, I hope, a little to go on.
CHAP. XXVII 46
CHAP. XXVII.
All you need say of Fontainbleau (in case you are askd)
is, that it stands about forty miles (south something) from Paris,
in the middle of a large forestThat there is something great
in itThat the king goes there once, every two or three years,
with his whole court, for the pleasure of the chaseand 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 SENSyou may dispatch it in a wordTis
an archiepiscopal see.
For JOIGNYthe less, I think, one says of it, the better.
But for AUXERREI 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 deserthe has left me
enough to say upon AUXERRE: in short, wherever my father
wentbut twas more remarkably so, in this journey through
France and Italy, than in any other stages of his lifehis road
seemed to lie so much on one side of that, wherein all other
travellers had gone before himhe saw kings and courts and
silks of all colours, in such strange lightsand his remarks
and reasonings upon the characters, the manners and customs
462 VOL. VII
of the countries we passd 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 allthe
occurrences and scrapes which we were perpetually meeting and
getting into, in consequence of his systems and opiniatrythey
were of so odd, so mixed and tragicomical a contextureThat
the whole put together, it appears of so different a shade and
tint from any tour of Europe, which was ever executedThat I
will venture to pronouncethe fault must be mine and mine
onlyif it be not read by all travellers and travel-readers, till
travelling is no more,or which comes to the same pointtill
the world, finally, takes it into its head to stand still.
But this rich bale is not to be opend now; except a small
thread or two of it, merely to unravel the mystery of my fathers
stay at AUXERRE.
As I have mentioned ittis too slight to be kept sus-
pended; and when tis wove in, theres an end of it.
Well go, brother Toby, said my father, whilst dinner is
coddlingto the abby of Saint Germain, if it be only to see
these bodies, of which monsieur Sequier has given such a recom-
mendation.Ill go see any body; quoth my uncle Toby; for
he was all compliance thro every step of the journeyDefend
me! said my fatherthey are all mummiesThen one need
not shave; quoth my uncle TobyShave! nocried my
fathertwill 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 Benedic-
tinesbut 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. HeribaldThis, 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
CHAP. XXVII 463
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 cabinetI dare say he has been a gallant soldierHe
was a monksaid the sacristan.
My uncle Toby and Trim sought comfort in each others
facesbut found it not: my father clappd both his hands upon
his cod-piece, 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 hellYet 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 himthey were two of the greatest saints in the
whole martyrology, added my fatherExcuse me, said the
sacristantwas to touch the bones of Saint Germain the
builder of the abbyAnd what did she get by it? said my
uncle TobyWhat 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
canonizationTis 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 pur-
chaseI 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 turnd 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,
464 VOL. VII
quoth my father, pointing with his cane to a large tomb as we
walked onIt is Saint Optat, Sir, answered the sacristan
And properly is Saint Optat placd! said my father: And
what is Saint Optats story? continued he. Saint Optat, replied
the sacristan, was a bishop
I thought so, by heaven! cried my father, interrupting
himSaint Optat!how should Saint Optat fail ? so
snatching out his pocket-book, and the young Benedictine hold-
ing 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. Optats 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 pleasd with all that had
passed in it,that he determined at once to stay another day in
Auxerre.
Ill see the rest of these good gentry to-morrow, said my
father, as we crossd over the squareAnd while you are paying
that visit, brother Shandy, quoth my uncle Tobythe corporal
and I will mount the ramparts.
CHAP. XXVIII.

N
OW this is the most puzzled skein of allfor in
this last chapter, as far at least as it has helpd me
through Auxerre, I have been getting forwards in two different
journies together, and with the same dash of the penfor 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 hereafterThere 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 market-place
of Auxerre with my father and my uncle Toby, in our way back
to dinnerand I am this moment also entering Lyons with
my post-chaise broke into a thousand piecesand I am more-
CHAP. XXVIIIXXIX 465
over this moment in a handsome pavillion built by Pringello*,
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
walkd into Lyonsmy chaise being all laid higgledy-
piggledy with my baggage in a cart, which was moving slowly
before meI 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 livresand 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 nothingI shall gain four hundred
livres by the misfortune clear into my purse; and pleasure!
worthworth double the money by it. With what velocity,
continued I, clapping my two hands together, shall I fly down
the rapid Rhone, 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
Cot 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 distressdand 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
lookd stately enough at the first, insensibly grew less and less
* 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.
Vid. p. 29, small edit.
466 VOL. VII
in its size; the freshness of the painting was no morethe gilding
lost its lustreand the whole affair appeared so poor in my
eyesso sorry!so contemptible! and, in a word, so much
worse than the abbess of Andoillets itselfthat I was just
opening my mouth to give it to the devilwhen a pert vamping
chaise-undertaker, stepping nimbly across the street, demanded
if Monsieur would have his chaise refittedNo, no, said I,
shaking my head sidewaysWould Monsieur chuse to sell it?
rejoind the undertakerWith all my soul, said Ithe iron
work is worth forty livresand 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, saidst thou, coming close up to me, as I stood
with my garters in my hand, reflecting upon what had not passd
Tis enough, Tristram, and I am satisfied, saidst thou,
whispering these words in my ear, * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * *;* * * * * * * * * *any other man would have
sunk down to the center
Every thing is good for something, quoth I.
Ill go into Wales for six weeks, and drink
goats-wheyand Ill gain seven years longer life for the acci-
dent. 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 calld 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 onesa 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 wishI would
not be at the plague of paying land tax for a larger.
CHAP. XXX 467
CHAP. XXX.
T
O 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 antiquityand not
be able to see it. To be withheld upon any account, must be a
vexation; but to be withheld by a vexationmust 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 togetherotherwise 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
mechanismI have neither genius, or taste, or fancyand
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-
grinders wheeltho I have many an hour of my life lookd up
with great devotion at the oneand stood by with as much
patience as any christian ever could do, at the other
Ill 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.
468 VOL. VII
Now I almost know as little of the Chinese language, as I do
of the mechanism of Lippiuss 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 ladyships 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 metwill
be no hurt if WE go to the church of St. Ireneus, and see the
pillar to which Christ was tiedand after that, the house
where Pontius Pilate livedTwas at the next town, said the
valet de placeat 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 pacefor 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 thisI might leave to the curious too;
but as no principle of clock-work is concernd in ittwill be
as well for the reader if I explain it myself.
CHAP. XXXI.
O
! There is a sweet ra 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
AmandusHe
AmandaShe
each ignorant of the others course,
Heeast
Shewest
Amandus taken captive by the Turks, and carried to the emperor
CHAP. XXXI 469
of Moroccos 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
dishevelld hair, oer rocks and mountains enquiring for
AmandusAmandus! Amandus!making every hill and
vally to echo back his name
Amandus! Amandus!
at every town and city sitting down forlorn at the gate
Has Amandus!has my Amandus enterd?till,going
round, and round, and round the worldchance 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
still alive
?
Is my Amanda
}
they fly into each others arms, and both drop down dead for
joy.
There is a soft ra in every gentle mortals 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 knowsThat sacred to the fidelity of
Amandus and Amanda, a tomb was built without the gates,
where to this hour, lovers calld 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 closenay such a kind of empire had it establishd over
me, that I could seldom think or speak of Lyonsand some-
times not so much as see even a Lyons-waistcoat, but this
remnant of antiquity would present itself to my fancy; and I
470 VOL. VII
have often said in my wild way of running ontho I fear
with some irreverenceI 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 billas it was uncertain
whether I should return to my inn, I had paid ithad more-
over given the maid ten sous, and was just receiving the dernier
compliments of Monsieur Le Blanc, for a pleasant voyage
down the Rhnewhen I was stopped at the gate
CHAP. XXXII.

T
WAS 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 dubi-
ous, 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
strikethere 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 willwhether in town or countryin cart or under
pannierswhether in liberty or bondageI have ever some-
thing 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
countenanceand where those carry me not deep enough
CHAP. XXXII 47
in flying from my own heart into his, and seeing what is natural
for an ass to thinkas well as a man, upon the occasion. In
truth, it is the only creature of all the classes of beings below
me, with whom I can do this: for parrots, jackdaws, &c.I
never exchange a word with themnor with the apes, &c.
for pretty near the same reason; they act by rote, as the others
speak by it, and equally make me silent: nay my dog and my
cat, though I value them both(and for my dog he would
speak if he could)yet some how or other, they neither of them
possess the talents for conversationI can make nothing of
a discourse with them, beyond the proposition, the reply, and
rejoinder, which terminated my fathers and my mothers con-
versations, in his beds of justiceand those utterdtheres
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 gateart thou for coming in, or going
out?
The ass twisted his head round to look up the street
Wellreplied Iwell wait a minute for thy driver:
He turned his head thoughtful about, and looked wist-
fully the opposite way
I understand thee perfectly; answered Iif thou takest a
wrong step in this affair, he will cudgel thee to deathWell !
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 dropt it out of his mouth half a dozen
times, and pickd it up againGod help thee, Jack! said I,
thou hast a bitter breakfast ontand many a bitter days
labourand many a bitter blow, I fear, for its wagestis
allall 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 pulld out a paper of em, which I had just
purchased, and gave him oneand at this moment that I am
472 VOL. VII
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 pressd him to come
inthe poor beast was heavy loadedhis legs seemd to
tremble under himhe hung rather backwards, and as I
pulld at his halter, it broke short in my handhe lookd up
pensive in my faceDont thrash me with itbut if you will,
you mayIf I do, said I, Ill be dd.
The word was but one half of it pronounced, like the abbess
of Andoillets(so there was no sin in it)when a person
coming in, let fall a thundering bastinado upon the poor devils
crupper, which put an end to the ceremony.
Out upon it!
cried Ibut the interjection was equivocaland, I think,
wrong placed toofor the end of an osier which had started
out from the contexture of the asss pannier, had caught hold
of my breeches pocket as he rushd by me, and rent it in the
most disasterous direction you can imagineso 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. XXXIIIXXXIV 473
CHAP. XXXIII.
W
HEN 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, &c.and was a second
time stoppd at the gatenot by the assbut 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 shoul-
ders
My good friend, quoth Ias sure as I am Iand you
are you
And who are you? said he.Dont 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 assever-
ationthat 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 moireplied the commissary, you are indebted
to him six livres four sous, for the next post from hence to St.
Fons, in your rout to Avignionwhich being a post royal, you
pay double for the horses and postillionotherwise twould
have amounted to no more than three livres, two sous
But I dont go by land; said I.
You may if you please; replied the commissary
Your most obedient servantsaid I, making him a low
bow
The commissary, with all the sincerity of grave good breed-
474 VOL. VII
ingmade me one, as low again.I never was more discon-
certed 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 seald up my lipsI could not pronounce the
name
Sir, said I, collecting myselfit is not my intention to take
post
But you maysaid he, persisting in his first replyyou
may take post if you chuse
And I may take salt to my pickled herring, said I, if I chuse
But I do not chuse
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 waterI am going down the Rhne this very
afternoonmy baggage is in the boatand I have actually paid
nine livres for my passage
Cest tout egaltis all one; said he.
Bon Dieu! what, pay for the way I go! and for the way I do
not go!
Cest tout egal; replied the commissary
The devil it is! said Ibut I will go to ten thousand
Bastiles first
O England! England! thou land of liberty, and climate of
good sense, thou tenderest of mothersand gentlest of nurses,
cried I, kneeling upon one knee, as I was beginning my apos-
troph
When the director of Madam Le Blancs conscience coming
in at that instant, and seeing a person in black, with a face as pale
as ashes, at his devotionslooking still paler by the contrast and
distress of his draperyaskd, if I stood in want of the aids of
the church
I go by WATERsaid Iand heres another will be for making
me pay for going by OYL.
CHAP. XXXV 475
CHAP. XXXV.
A
S 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 Ifor you have begun, sir, with first tearing
off my breechesand now you want my pocket
Whereashad you first taken my pocket, as you do with
your own peopleand then left me bare ad afterI had
been a beast to have complaind
As it is
Tis contrary to the law of nature.
Tis contrary to reason.
Tis contrary to the GOSPEL.
But not to thissaid heputting a printed paper into my
hand.
PAR LE ROY.
Tis a pithy prolegomenon, quoth Iand 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
Parishe 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 thisThat if you set out with an intention of
running post from Paris to Avignion, &c. you shall not change
that intention or mode of travelling, without first satisfying the
476 VOL. VII
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 Iif fickleness is taxable in
Francewe have nothing to do but to make the best peace with
you we can
AND SO THE PEACE WAS MADE;
And if it is a bad oneas Tristram Shandy laid the
corner stone of itnobody but Tristram Shandy ought to be
hanged.
CHAP. XXXVI.
T
HOUGH 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 retird 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 stolenNever 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 shouldMy remarks are stolen!what shall
I do?Mr. commissary! pray did I drop any remarks as I stood
besides you?
You droppd a good many very singular ones; replied he
Pugh! said I, those were but a few, not worth above six livres
two sousbut these are a large parcelHe shook his head
Monsieur Le Blanc! Madam Le Blanc! did you see any
papers of mine?you maid of the house! run up stairsFran-
ois! run up after her
I must have my remarksthey were the best remarks,
CHAP. XXXVIXXXVII 477
cried I, that ever were madethe wisestthe wittiest
What shall I do?which way shall I turn myself ?
Sancho Pana, when he lost his asss FURNITURE, did not
exclaim more bitterly.
CHAP. XXXVII.
W
HEN the first transport was over, and the registers of
the brain were beginning to get a little out of the con-
fusion into which this jumble of cross accidents had cast them
it then presently occurrd to me, that I had left my remarks in
the pocket of the chaiseand that in selling my chaise, I had
sold my remarks along with it, 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 pennyHave I been selling here to
a chaise-vamperfor four Louis dOrsand 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-chaiseor who
was beginning itand wanted my remarks, and two or three
guineas along with themI could have borne itbut to a
chaise-vamper!shew me to him this moment Franois
said Ithe valet de place put on his hat, and led the way
and I pulld off mine, as I passd the commissary, and fol-
lowed him.
478 VOL. VII
CHAP. XXXVIII.
W
HEN we arrived at the chaise-vampers 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 tivithe whole world was going
out a May-polingfrisking herecapering thereno 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 May-poles
The French women, by the bye, love May-poles, a la folie
that is, as much as their matinsgive em but a May-pole,
whether in May, June, July, or Septemberthey never count
the timesdown it goestis meat, drink, washing, and
lodging to emand 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 stepd in, I told you, to take
the papilliotes from off her hairthe toilet stands still for no
manso she jerkd off her cap, to begin with them as she
opend the door, in doing which, one of them fell upon the
groundI instantly saw it was my own writing
O Seignieur! cried Iyou have got all my remarks upon
your head, Madam!Jen suis bien mortifie, said she
tis well, thinks I, they have stuck therefor could they have
gone deeper, they would have made such confusion in a French
womans noddleShe had better have gone with it unfrizled,
to the day of eternity.
Tenezsaid sheso without any idea of the nature of my
suffering, she took them from her curls, and put them gravely
one by one into my hatone was twisted this way
CHAP. XXXVIIIXXXIX 479
another twisted thatay! by my faith; and when they are
published, quoth I,
They will be worse twisted still.
CHAP. XXXIX.
A
ND now for Lippiuss clock! said I, with the air of a man,
who had got thro all his difficultiesnothing can pre-
vent us seeing that, and the Chinese history, &c. except the
time, said Franoisfor tis almost eleventhen 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 Lippiuss great clock was all out of joints, and had
not gone for some yearsIt 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 charactersas with many others I could
mention, which strike the fancy only at a distance; for as I came
nearer and nearer to the pointmy blood cooldthe freak
gradually went off, till, at length I would not have given a
cherry-stone to have it gratifiedThe truth was, my time was
short, and my heart was at the Tomb of the LoversI 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 cholicand to that degree,
as never was known in the memory of the oldest practitioner.
480 VOL. VII
CHAP. XL.
A
S 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 VaiseI dispatchd Franois to the boat,
that I might pay the homage I so long owd it, without a witness
of my weakness.I walkd with all imaginable joy towards the
placewhen I saw the gate which intercepted the tomb, my
heart glowed within me
Tender and faithful spirits! cried I, addressing myself to
Amandus and Amandalonglong have I tarried to drop this
tear upon your tombI comeI come
When I camethere was no tomb to drop it upon.
What would I have given for my uncle Toby to have whistled,
Lillo bullero!
CHAP. XLI.
N
O matter how, or in what moodbut I flew from the
tomb of the loversor 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 eer I had sailed a hundred
yards, the Rhne and the San met together, and carried me
down merrily betwixt them.
But I have described this voyage down the Rhne, before I
made it
So now I am at Avignionand 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 Franois 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 perad-
venture we should run away with his cattle. Had you seen
CHAP. XLIXLII 48
my breeches in entering Avignon,Though youd have seen
them better, I think, as I mountedyou 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 mans hat
has been blown off his head by chance the first night he comes
to Avignion,that he should therefore say, Avignion 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
soand hearing moreover, the windyness of Avignion spoke
of in the country about as a proverbI set it down, merely to
ask the learned what can be the causethe consequence I
sawfor they are all Dukes, Marquisses, and Counts, there
the duce a Baron, in all Avignionso 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 heelthe 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
handso 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
Rhne to those of the Garonne to traverse upon my mule at
my own leisureat my own leisurefor I had left Death,
the lord knowsand He onlyhow far behind meI
482 VOL. VII
have followed many a man thro France, quoth hebut never
at this mettlesome rateStill he followed,and still I
fled himbut I fled him chearfullystill he pursuedbut
like one who pursued his prey without hopeas he lagd,
every step he lost, softened his lookswhy 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 travelleror more
terrible to travel-writers, than a large rich plain; especially if it
is without great rivers or bridges; and presents nothing to the
eye, but one unvaried picture of plenty: for after they have once
told you that tis delicious! or delightful ! (as the case happens)
that the soil was grateful, and that nature pours out all her
abundance, &c. . .. they have then a large plain upon their
hands, which they know not what to do withand 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 plainand so on.
This is most terrible work; judge if I dont 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 loiterd 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
TarasconeI did not understand the principles
The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stoppdfor
CHAP. XLIII 483
meeting a couple of Franciscans straitend more for time than
myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was
aboutI had turnd 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 turnd out, that there were
two dozen of eggs coverd over with vine-leaves at the bottom
of the basketas I had no intention of buying eggsI made no
sort of claim of themas for the space they had occupied
what signified it? I had figs enow for my money
But it was my intention to have the basketit was the
gossips intention to keep it, without which, she could do noth-
ing with her eggsand 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 itnot this year, for I am hastening to the story
of my uncle Tobys amoursbut you will read it in the collec-
tion of those which have arose out of the journey across this
plainand which, therefore, I call my
PLAIN STORIES.
How far my pen has been fatigued like those of other travel-
lers, in this journey of it, over so barren a trackthe world
must judgebut the traces of it, which are now all set ovibrat-
ing 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 timeby stopping and talking to
every soul I met who was not in a full trotjoining all parties
before mewaiting for every soul behindhailing all those
who were coming through cross roadsarresting all kinds of
484 VOL. VII
beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, fryarsnot passing by a woman in
a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting
her into conversation with a pinch of snuffIn short, by
seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance
held out to me in this journeyI 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 metI am confident
we could have passed through Pall-Mall or St. Jamess-Street
for a month together, with fewer adventuresand seen less of
human nature.
O! there is that sprightly frankness which at once unpins
every plait of a Languedocians dressthat whatever is beneath
it, it looks so like the simplicity which poets sing of in better
daysI 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 MONTPELLIERand foul
befall the man who has drank it at their table, who grudges
them a drop of it.
The sun was setthey had done their work; the nymphs
had tied up their hair afreshand the swains were preparing
for a carousalMy mule made a dead pointTis the
fife and tabourin, said IIm frightend to death, quoth he
They are running at the ring of pleasure, said I, giving him
a prickBy saint Boogar, and all the saints at the backside
of the door of purgatory, said he(making the same resolution
with the abbesse of Andoillets) Ill not go a step further
Tis very well, sir, said II 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 tother into thatIll take a
dance, said Iso stay you here.
A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the groupe to
meet me as I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a
dark chesnut, approaching rather to a black, was tied up in a
knot, all but a single tress.
We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as
CHAP. XLIII 485
if to offer themAnd a cavalier ye shall have; said I, taking
hold of both of them.
Hadst thou, Nannette, been arrayd 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 bankTie me
up this tress instantly, said Nannette, putting a piece of string
into my handIt taught me to forget I was a stranger
The whole knot fell downWe had been seven years
acquainted.
The youth struck the note upon the tabourinhis pipe fol-
lowed, and off we boundedthe duce take that slit!
The sister of the youth who had stolen her voice from heaven,
sung alternately with her brothertwas a Gascoigne
roundelay.
VIVA LA JOIA!
FIDON LA TRISTESSA!
The nymphs joind in unison, and their swains an octave below
them
I would have given a crown to have it sewd upNannette
would not have given a sousViva la joia! was in her lips
Viva la joia! was in her eyes. A transient spark of amity shot
across the space betwixt usShe lookd 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 hereand 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 insiduousThen
tis time to dance off, quoth I; so changing only partners and
tunes, I danced it away from Lunel to Montpellierfrom
thence to Pesnas, BeziersI danced it along through
486 VOL. VII
Narbonne, Carcasson, and Castle Naudairy, till at last I danced
myself into Perdrillos pavillion, where pulling a paper of black
lines, that I might go on straight forwards, without digression
or parenthesis, in my uncle Tobys amours
I begun thus
END of the SEVENTH VOLUME.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Non enim excursus hic ejus, sed opus ipsum est.
PLIN. Lib. quintus Epistola sexta.
V O L. VI I I.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONT,
in the Strand. M DCC LXV.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

CHAP. I.

B
UT softlyfor 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
thats taken, the judgment is surprised by the imagination, I
defy, notwithstanding all that has been said upon straight lines*
in sundry pages of my bookI 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 unsewd upwithout ever
and anon straddling out, or sidling into some bastardly
digressionIn Freeze-land, Fog-land and some other lands
I wot ofit may be done
But in this clear climate of fantasy and perspiration, where
every idea, sensible and insensible, gets ventin this land, my
dear Eugeniusin this fertile land of chivalry and romance,
where I now sit, unskrewing my ink-horn to write my uncle
* Vid. Vol. VI. p. 52. {Page 426 in this edition.}
490 VOL. VIII
Tobys amours, and with all the meanders of JULIAs track in
quest of her DIEGO, in full view of my study windowif thou
comest not and takest me by the hand
What a work is it likely to turn out!
Let us begin it.
CHAP. II.
I
T 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)Ill 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 bestIm sure it is the most
religiousfor I begin with writing the first sentenceand
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, &c. 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 upcatching 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 Portrait* are fools to meno martyr is ever
so full of faith or fireI wish I could say of good works too
but I have no
* Vid. Popes Portrait.
CHAP. IIIII 49
Zeal or Angeror
Anger or Zeal
And till gods and men agree together to call it by the same name
the errantest TARTUFFE, in sciencein politicsor 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 rightlytis better to be well mounted, than go
ofootand obstructions in the glands are dangerous
And how goes it with thy concubinethy wifeand thy little
ones oboth sides? and when did you hear from the old gentle-
man and ladyyour sister, aunt, uncle and cousinsI hope
they have got better of their colds, coughs, claps, tooth-aches,
fevers, stranguries, sciaticas, swellings, and sore-eyes.What
a devil of an apothecary! to take so much bloodgive such a
vile purgepukepoulticeplaisternight-draughtglis-
terblister?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 tailBy my great aunt
Dinahs 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-
mannot one of our family would wear it after. To cover the
MASK afresh, was more than the mask was worthand 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
492 VOL. VIII
In the sixteenth century, we boast of no less than a dozen
alchymists.
CHAP. IV.
I
T is with Love as with Cuckoldomthe 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 thatSentiment half a yard higher
and Nonsenseno Madam,not thereI mean at
the part I am now pointing to with my forefingerhow 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 pushd his researches, thro such a conten-
tion of feelings; and he had infallibly let them all run on, as we
do worse matters, to see what they would turn outhad not
Bridgets pre-notification of them to Susannah, and Susannahs
repeated manifestos thereupon to all the world, made it neces-
sary for my uncle Toby to look into the affair.
CHAP. V.
W
HY weavers, gardeners, and gladiatorsor 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 professd one, and does it
without fraud or covin, is precisely in the same predicament:
not that, at first sight, there is any consequence, or shew of logic
CHAP. V 493
in it, That a rill of cold water dribbling through my inward
parts, should light up a torch in my Jennys
The proposition does not strike one; on the contrary it
seems to run opposite to the natural workings of causes and
effects
But it shews the weakness and imbecility of human reason.
And in perfect good health with it?
The most perfectMadam, that friendship herself could
wish me
And drink nothing!nothing but water?
Impetuous fluid! the moment thou presses against the
flood-gates of the brainsee how they give way!
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 follow-
ing the stream, turns straws and bulrushes into masts and
bowspritsAnd 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 turnd this world about
like a mill-wheelgrinding the faces of the impotentbe-
powdering their ribsbe-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 shews 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.
494 VOL. VIII
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
favourSomething!something.
Something perhaps more than friendshipless than love
somethingno matter whatno matter whereI would not
give a single hair off my mules 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 mixd, or any how, or any where,
except fortuitously upon some advanced posts, where better
liquor was not to be hador during the time he was under
cure; when the surgeon telling him it would extend the fibres,
and bring them sooner into contactmy 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 weavera gardener, or a gladiator
unless as a captain, you will needs have him onebut then
he was only a captain of footand besides the whole is an
equivocationThere is nothing left for us to suppose, but
that my uncle Tobys legbut that will avail us little in the
present hypothesis, unless it had proceeded from some ailment
in the footwhereas his leg was not emaciated from any dis-
order in his footfor my uncle Tobys 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 fathers 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
CHAP. VIVIII 495
think I took a pleasure in runing 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 hemmd
in on every side of theeare 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
cart-loads of thy fifth and sixth volumes stillstill unsold, and
art almost at thy wits 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 theeit would have amounted to a gallon?
CHAP. VII.
But for heavens 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.
M
Y 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 pioneers spade, a pick-ax, or a shovel
496 VOL. VIII
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. Wadmans, 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 Tobys 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 offor in her warm bedor playing
with a case-knifeor any thing you pleasethan 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 onebut here, for her soul, she can see
him in no light without mixing something of her own goods
and chattels along with himtill 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
abovenor is it matter of BREVIARYfor I make no
mans creed but my ownnor matter of FACTat 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
themor the strength of their gussetsbut 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?
CHAP. IX 497
Widow Wadmans night-shifts (as was the mode I suppose in
King Williams and Queen Annes 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 gaind 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 establishd into one of the ordinances of the
bed-chamberThat 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 noticeBridget with all suitable
decorum, having first opend the bed-cloaths 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, pind the plaits
all fast together a little above the hem; which done she tuckd
all in tight at the feet, and wishd her mistress a good night.
This was constant, and without any other variation than
this; that on shivering and tempestuous nights, when Bridget
untuckd the feet of the bed, &c. to do thisshe consulted
no thermometer but that of her own passions; and so performed
it standingkneelingor 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 tenMrs. Wadman
threw herself into her arm chair, and crossing her left knee
with her right, which formed a resting-place for her elbow, she
reclind her cheek upon the palm of her hand, and leaning
forwards, ruminated till midnight upon both sides of the
question.
498 VOL. VIII
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 Tobys stay) when Bridget had pulld down the
night-shift, 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 kickd in her situation
for supposing * * * * * * * * * to be the sun in its meridian, it
was a north-east kickshe kickd the pin out of her fingers
the etiquette which hung upon it, downdown 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.
M
Y uncle Tobys 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 Tobybut 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 frayI chuse 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 cockdand a cockd
old hat, about which your reverences have so often been at odds
with one anotherbut there is a difference here in the nature
of things
And let me tell you, gentry, a wide one too.
CHAP. XI 499
CHAP. XI.
N
OW as widow Wadman did love my uncle Tobyand
my uncle Toby did not love widow Wadman, there was
nothing for widow Wadman to do, but to go on and love my
uncle Tobyor 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 tother, that I cannot eat my breakfast for
herand 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 toofor at that
word I lose all patiencemuch good may it do him!By
all that is hirsute and gashly! I cry, taking off my furrd cap,
and twisting it round my fingerI 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 warmand soft;
especially if you stroke it the right waybut alas! that will
never be my luck(so here my philosophy is shipwreckd
again)
No; I shall never have a finger in the pye (so here I
break my metaphor)
Crust and crumb
Inside and out
500 VOL. VIII
Top and bottomI detest it, I hate it, I repudiate it
Im sick at the sight of it
Tis all pepper,
garlick,
staragen,
salt, and
devils dungby 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.
W
HICH shews, let your reverences and worships say what
you will of it (for as for thinkingall 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 lifethe most
E xtravagant
F utilitous
G alligaskinish
CHAP. XIIIXIV 50
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 idiculousthough by the bye the R should have gone
firstBut in short tis of such a nature, as my father once told
my uncle Toby upon the close of a long dissertation upon the
subjectYou can scarce, said he, combine two ideas
together upon it, brother Toby, without an hypallage
Whats 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 inor 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.
T
HE 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 joind and
laid parallel to Mrs. Wadmans; this, with the advantage of a
thickset arbour in Mrs. Wadmans garden, but planted in the
hedge-row of my uncle Tobys, put all the occasions into her
hands which Love-militancy wanted; she could observe my uncle
502 VOL. VIII
Tobys 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 some-
times out of gratitude, to make the attack, and endeavour to
blow my uncle Toby up in the very sentry-box itself.
CHAP. XV.
I
T is a great pitybut tis certain from every days observa-
tion of man, that he may be set on fire like a candle, at either
endprovided there is a sufficient wick standing out; if there
is nottheres an end of the affair; and if there isby lighting
it at the bottom, as the flame in that case has the misfortune
generally to put out itselftheres an end of the affair again.
For my part, could I always have the ordering of it which way
I would be burnt myselffor I cannot bear the thoughts of
being burnt like a beastI 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, inter-
rupting him as he mentioned the blind gut, in a discourse with
my father the night my mother was brought to bed of meI
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
Thats more than I know; quoth my father.
CHAP. XVI 503
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 prodigals 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
Tobys affairs had fixd up ready to her hands.
I believe I have not told youbut I dont knowposs-
ibly I havebe it as it will, tis one of the number of those
many things, which a man had better do over again, than dispute
about itThat 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, fastend up
with two or three pins at the top, but loose at the bottom, for
the conveniency of holding it up to the eye, &c. . .. as occasions
required; so that when an attack was resolved upon, Mrs.
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 Tobys 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. Wadmans next
stroke of generalshipwhich was, to take my uncle Tobys
tobacco-pipe out of his hand as soon as she possibly could;
which, under one pretence or other, but generally that of
504 VOL. VIII
pointing more distinctly at some redoubt or breast-work in the
map, she would effect before my uncle Toby (poor soul !) had
well marchd 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 Tobys tobacco-pipe, she might have
travelled with it, along the lines, from Dan to Beersheba, had
my uncle Tobys lines reachd 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 sentimentit could neither give fire by
pulsationor receive it by sympathytwas nothing but
smoak.
Whereas, in following my uncle Tobys forefinger with hers,
close thro all the little turns and indentings of his works
pressing sometimes against the side of itthen treading upon
its nailthen tripping it upthen touching it here
then there, and so onit 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
manuvre as quick as thought, would as certainly place hers
close besides it; this at once opened a communication, large
enough for any sentiment to pass or repass, which a person
skilld in the elementary and practical part of love-making, has
occasion for
By bringing up her forefinger parallel (as before) to my uncle
Tobysit 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 placeMrs. 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 pressd 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 ones else) at the bottom of
CHAP. XVIXVII 505
the sentry-box, which slightly pressd against the calf of his
So that my uncle Toby being thus attacked and sore pushd on
both his wingswas it a wonder, if now and then, it put his
centre into disorder?
The duce take it! said my uncle Toby.
CHAP. XVII.
T
HESE 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 togetherbut 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. Wadmans; for the opposite
side of the margin, which I suppose to have been my uncle
Tobys, 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 its
stigmata and pricks, more than all the relicks of the Romish
churchalways excepting, when I am writing upon these
matters, the pricks which enterd the flesh of St. Radagunda in
the desert, which in your road from FESSE to CLUNY, the nuns
of that name will shew you for love.
506 VOL. VIII
CHAP. XVIII.
I
Think, an please your honour, quoth Trim, the fortifications
are quite destroyedand the bason is upon a level with
the moleI think so too; replied my uncle Toby with a sigh
half suppressdbut step into the parlour, Trim, for the
stipulationit 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-ax, his pioneers
shovel, his picquets and other little military stores, in order to
carry them off the fieldwhen a heigh ho! from the sentry-
box, which, being made of thin slit deal, reverberated the sound
more sorrowfully to his ear, forbad him.
No; said the corporal to himself, Ill 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 glacisbut with a real intent to
approach nearer to his master, in order to divert himhe
loosend a sod or twopared 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 Tobys feet, and began as
follows.
CHAP. XIX.
I
T was a thousand pitiesthough 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
CHAP. XIX 507
no more exempt from saying a foolish thing, Trim, than a man
of lettersBut not so often; and please your honour, replied
the corporalMy 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 gina towards
Megara) did upon Corinth and Pyreus
It was a thousand pities, an please your honour, to
destroy these worksand 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 endI have never once
whistled, or sung, or laughd, or cryd, or talkd of passd 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
story-teller, that of the number thou hast told me, either to
amuse me in my painful hours, or divert me in my grave ones
thou hast seldom told me a bad 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.
Ill tell it your honour, quoth the corporal, directlyPro-
vided, said my uncle Toby, looking earnestly towards Dunkirk
and the mole againprovided 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 storyIt is not a merry
one by any means, replied the corporalNor would I have it
altogether a grave one, added my uncle TobyIt is neither
the one nor the other, replied the corporal, but will suit your
honour exactlyThen Ill 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
508 VOL. VIII
a matter as the world imagines, to pull off a lank montero cap
with graceor 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 sweepand by an unforced com-
pression, 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
squeezdthan pulld off with a flatusthe corporal acquit-
ted 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 masters humour
he exchanged a single look of kindness with him, and set off
thus.
The Story of the king of Bohemia
and his seven castles.
T
HERE 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 bare-headed, having since he pulld 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 thingsso that before
the corporal had well got through the first five words of his
story, had my uncle Toby twice touchd his Montero-cap with
the end of his cane, interrogativelyas much as to say, Why
dont you put it on, Trim? Trim took it up with the most
respectful slowness, and casting a glance of humiliation as he did
it, upon the embroidery of the fore-part, which being dismally
tarnishd and frayd moreover in some of the principal leaves
and boldest parts of the pattern, he layd 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
CHAP. XIX 509
Nothing in this world, Trim, is made to last for ever.
But when tokens, dear Tom, of thy love and remem-
brance 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 Dooms 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 engenderd, he returnd, 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.
T
HERE 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 himtake any date in the whole world thou choosest,
and put it tothou 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
Noahs flood; and from Noahs flood to the birth of Abraham;
through all the pilgrimages of the patriarchs, to the departure of
the Israelites out of Egyptand throughout all the Dynasties,
Olympiads, Urbeconditas, and other memorable epochas of the
50 VOL. VIII
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 storyhad 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 openthe 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-almanackI tell you plainly
it was; but from a different reason than you wot of
It was the year next himwhich being the year of our
Lord seventeen hundred and twelve, when the duke of Ormond
was playing the devil in Flandersthe 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.
I
N 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 vigourbut
likewise on the score, Trim, of thy own story; because if there
areand which, from what thou hast dropt, I partly suspect to
be the factif there are giants in it
There is but one, an please your honour
Tis as bad as twenty, replied my uncle Tobythou
shouldst have carried him back some seven or eight hund-
red years out of harms 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 childPoopoo! said my uncle Tobybut with accents
CHAP. XIX 5
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.
T
HERE 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 corporals
shoulder to temper the interruptionleave it out entirely, Trim;
a story passes very well without these niceties, unless one is
pretty sure of emSure 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 matterGod
bless your honour! said the corporal, won by the manner of my
uncle Tobys 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 garrisonhe has his firelock, an please your honour,
to furbishhis accoutrements to take care ofhis regimentals
to mendhimself 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 wouldst 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 namein what mountains it takes
its risewhat is its coursehow far it is navigablewhere
fordablewhere not; he should know the fertility of every
52 VOL. VIII
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 inhabi-
tants, 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 discoursehow 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 enemys works; forced his passage
over the Danube; crossd the Lechpushed 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 days march without the
aids of GeographyAs for Chronology, I own, Trim, con-
tinued 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 ra to us of military improve-
ments, 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 380, under the
CHAP. XIX 53
reign of Wencelaus, son of Charles the fourtha certain
priest, whose name was Schwartz, shewd 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 LeonHow came priests and bishops, an please your
honour, to trouble their heads so much about gun-powder? God
knows, said my uncle Tobyhis providence brings good out
of every thingand he avers, in his chronicle of King Alphonsus,
who reduced Toledo, That in the year 343, 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
bornAnd 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 is plain to me from the present miser-
able state of military architecture amongst them; which con-
sists of nothing more than a foss with a brick wall without
flanksand for what they give us as a bastion at each angle
of it, tis so barbarously constructed, that it looks for all the
worldLike 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 Trims offertill Trim telling him, he
had half a dozen more in Bohemia, which he knew not how to
get off his handsmy uncle Toby was so touchd with the
pleasantry of heart of the corporalthat he discontinued
his dissertation upon gunpowderand begged the corporal
forthwith to go on with his story of the King of Bohemia and
his seven castles.
54 VOL. VIII
The story of the King of Bohemia and
his seven castles, continued.
T
HIS unfortunate King of Bohemia, said TrimWas he
unfortunate then? cried my uncle Toby, for he had been so
wrapt up in his dissertation upon gun-powder 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 epithetWas he unfortunate
then, Trim? said my uncle Toby, patheticallyThe corporal,
wishing first the word and all its synonimas at the devil, forth-
with began to run back in his mind, the principal events in the
King of Bohemias story; from every one of which, it appearing
that he was the most fortunate man that ever existed in the
worldit put the corporal to a stand: for not caring to retract
his epithetand less, to explain itand least of all, to
twist his tale (like men of lore) to serve a systemhe looked
up in my uncle Tobys face for assistancebut 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 thusThat taking great pleas-
ure and delight in navigation and all sort of sea-affairsand
there happening throughout the whole kingdom of Bohemia, to
be no sea-port town whatever
How the duce should thereTrim? cried my uncle Toby;
for Bohemia being totally inland, it could have happend no
otherwiseIt 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 propelld 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
CHAP. XIX 55
millions of unfortunate inhabitants who could make no defence
against itScandalous! cried TrimWhich would bespeak,
added my uncle Toby, mildly, such a want of compassion in
him who is the father of itthat, I think, Trimthe thing
could have happend no way.
The corporal made the bow of unfeigned conviction; and
went on.
Now the King of Bohemia with his queen and courtiers hap-
pening one fine summers evening to walk outAye! there
the word happening is right, Trim, cried my uncle Toby; for the
King of Bohemia and his queen might have walkd 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 its billet. He was a great man, said my uncle
TobyAnd 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 honours, where I should be taken so
much better care of in my old ageIt 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 discoursebut in a
gayer accentif 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, smil-
ing
Souse! replied the corporalover 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 Ser-
jeants son in the regiment knew of itIts high time I should
said my uncle Toby.
Your honour remembers with concern, said the corporal, the
56 VOL. VIII
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 gaind ithe was pressd hard,
as your honour knows, on every side of him
Gallant mortal ! cried my uncle Toby, caught up with enthusi-
asmthis 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 Luxembourgs brows, if yet tis possibleI see
him with the knot of his scarfe just shot off, infusing fresh spirits
into poor Galways regimentriding along the linethen
wheeling about, and charging Conti at the head of itBrave!
brave by heaven! cried my uncle Tobyhe deserves a crown
As richly, as a thief a halter; shouted Trim.
My uncle Toby knew the corporals loyalty;otherwise
the comparison was not at all to his mindit did not al-
together strike the corporals fancy when he had made it
but it could not be recalldso 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 safetyThough
Talmash, said my uncle Toby, brought off the foot with great
prudenceBut I was left upon the field, said the corporal.
Thou wast so; poor fellow! replied my uncle TobySo 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 conveyd 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-dye-
call-ems all about it.
It is for that reason, quoth my uncle Toby, that the groin is
infinitely more sensiblethere being not only as many ten-
CHAP. XIXXX 57
dons and what-dye-call-ems (for I know their names as little
as thou dost)about itbut moreover * * *
Mrs. Wadman, who had been all the time in her arbour
instantly stoppd her breathunpinnd 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 masters suffer-
ings, but never shed a tear at his ownwas for giving up the
point, which my uncle Toby would not allowTis a proof of
nothing, Trim, said he, but the generosity of thy temper
So that whether the pain of a wound in the groin (cteris
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 groinare points which to this
day remain unsettled.
CHAP. XX.
T
HE anguish of my knee, continued the corporal, was excess-
ive in itself; and the uneasiness of the cart, with the rough-
ness of the roads which were terribly cut upmaking bad still
worseevery 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 peasants
house, where our cart, which was the last of the line, had halted;
they had helpd me in, and the young woman had taken a cordial
out of her pocket and droppd it upon some sugar, and seeing it
had cheerd 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 roomand die, than go on
58 VOL. VIII
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 (some-
times) that is in the world.
By the persuasion of the young woman, continued the cor-
poral, 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 myselfI 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 dippd
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 offerd her a little purse with eighteen florins,
which my poor brother Tom (here Trim wipd 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 yethere
Trim wiped his eyes a third time.
The young woman calld the old man and his wife into the
room, to shew 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 hospitalCome then! said she,
tying up the little purseIll be your bankerbut as that office
alone will not keep me employd, Ill 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 attentivelythat
the young woman could not be the daughter of the peasant.
She was in black down to her toes, with her hair conceald
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 looseBy 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
CHAP. XX 59
except at Amsterdamthey 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 professionI 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 ChristI did not like it.I believe, Trim, we are both
wrong, said my uncle Tobywell ask Mr. Yorick about it
to-night at my brother Shandysso 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 meand in a short timethough I thought it
a long oneshe came back with flannels, &c. &c. and having
fomented my knee soundly for a couple of hours, &c. and made
me a thin basin of gruel for my suppershe wishd me rest, and
promised to be with me early in the morning.She wishd
me, an please your honour, what was not to be had. My fever
ran very high that nighther figure made sad disturbance
within meI was every moment cutting the world in twoto
give her half of itand 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
cordialsand 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 cor-
poral, (making one of the strangest reflections upon it in the
world)
It was not lovefor during the three weeks she
was almost constantly with me, fomenting my knee with her
hand, night and dayI can honestly say, an please your hon-
ourthat * * * * * * * * * * * * * once.
That was very odd, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby
I think so toosaid Mrs. Wadman.
It never did, said the corporal.
520 VOL. VIII
CHAP. XXI.
But tis no marvel, continued the corporalseeing my
uncle Toby musing upon itfor Love, an please your honour,
is exactly like war, in this; that a soldier, though he has escaped
three weeks compleat oSaturday-night,may nevertheless be
shot through his heart on Sunday morningIt happened so
here, an please your honour, with this difference onlythat it
was on Sunday in the afternoon, when I fell in love all at once
with a sisserarait burst upon me, an please your honour,
like a bombscarce 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 otherwisethere 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 wellthe
inflammation had been gone off for some time, but it was
succeeded with an itching both above and below my knee, so
CHAP. XXII 52
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 itIt
only wants rubbing a little, said the Beguine; so covering it with
the bed cloaths, 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
fingerand 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 loveI
blushd when I saw how white a hand she hadI 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 despair in nature to the
corporalhe could not forbear smiling.
The young Beguine, continued the corporal, perceiving it was
of great service to mefrom rubbing, for some time, with two
fingersproceeded to rub at length, with threetill by little
and little she brought down the fourth, and then rubbd with
her whole hand: I will never say another word, an please your
honour, upon hands againbut 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 thankd his master most unfeignedly; but having
nothing to say upon the Beguines 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 kneetill I feard her zeal would
weary herI would do a thousand times more, said she,
for the love of ChristIn saying which she passd her hand
across the flannel, to the part above my knee, which I had
equally complained of, and rubbd it also.
I perceived, then, I was beginning to be in love
As she continued rub-rub-rubbingI felt it spread from
under her hand, an please your honour, to every part of my
frame
522 VOL. VIII
The more she rubbd, and the longer strokes she took
the more the fire kindled in my veinstill at length, by two
or three strokes longer than the restmy passion rose to the
highest pitchI seizd her hand
And then, thou clappedst it to thy lips, Trim, said my
uncle Tobyand madest a speech.
Whether the corporals amour terminated precisely in the way
my uncle Toby described it, is not material; it is enough that it
containd in it the essence of all the love-romances which ever
have been wrote since the beginning of the world.
CHAP. XXIII.
A
S soon as the corporal had finished the story of his amour
or rather my uncle Toby for himMrs. Wadman silently
sallied forth from her arbour, replaced the pin in her mob,
passd the wicker gate, and advanced slowly towards my uncle
Tobys sentry-box: the disposition which Trim had made in my
uncle Tobys mind, was too favourable a crisis to be let slippd

The attack was determind upon: it was facilitated still

more by my uncle Tobys having ordered the corporal to wheel
off the pioneers shovel, the spade, the pick-axe, the picquets,
and other military stores which lay scatterd upon the ground
where Dunkirk stoodThe corporal had marchdthe 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 doto 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. Wadmans attack of my uncle Toby in his
sentry-box, BY PLANNow the Plan hanging up in it at this
juncture, being the Plan of Dunkirkand the tale of Dunkirk a
tale of relaxation, it opposed every impression she could make:
and besides, could she have gone upon itthe manuvre of
CHAP. XXIIIXXIV 523
fingers and hands in the attack of the sentry-box, was so outdone
by that of the fair Beguines, in Trims storythat just then,
that particular attack, however successful beforebecame the
most heartless attack that could be made
O! let woman alone for this. Mrs. Wadman had scarce opend
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
approachd the door of my uncle Tobys sentry-boxa mote
or sandor somethingI know not what, has got
into this eye of minedo look into itit 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 upDo look into itsaid she.
Honest soul ! thou didst look into it with as much innocency
of heart, as ever child lookd into a raree-shew-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 natureIve 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 Thracian* Rodopes 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
* 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.
524 VOL. VIII
ashes falling out of itlookingand lookingthen rubbing
his eyesand looking again, with twice the good nature that
ever Gallileo lookd for a spot in the sun.
In vain! for by all the powers which animate the organ
Widow Wadmans left eye shines this moment as lucid as
her rightthere is neither mote, or sand, or dust, or chaff,
or speck, or particle of opake matter floating in itthere 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 longerthou art undone.
CHAP. XXV.
A
N 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 eyeand the carriage
of the cannon, by which both the one and the other are enabled
to do so much execution. I dont 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. Wadmans 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
lookd with might and main into the pupil
Now of all the eyes, which ever were createdfrom your
own, Madam, up to those of Venus herself, which certainly were
as venereal a pair of eyes as ever stood in a headthere 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 lookingit was not,
Madam, a rolling eyea romping or a wanton onenor was
it an eye sparklingpetulant or imperiousof high claims and
terrifying exactions, which would have curdled at once that
CHAP. XXVXXVI 525
milk of human nature, of which my uncle Toby was made up
but twas an eye full of gentle salutationsand soft
responsesspeakingnot like the trumpet stop of some
ill-made organ, in which many an eye I talk to, holds coarse
conversebut whispering softlike the last low accents
of an expiring saintHow 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 Tobys business.
CHAP. XXVI.
T
HERE is nothing shews 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 mans
heart is ever the better for itGreat God! what must my
uncle Tobys 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 marriedbut from a little
subacid kind of drollish impatience in his nature, whenever it
befell him, he would never submit to it like a christian; but
would pish, and huff, and bounce, and kick, and play the Devil,
and write the bitterest Philippicks against the eye that ever man
wrotethere is one in verse upon some bodys 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 tisand mischief such doth work
As never yet did Pagan, Jew, or Turk.*
* This will be printed with my fathers life of Socrates, &c. &c.
526 VOL. VIII
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 Ernulphuss 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 loveyet 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 lambsat
still and let the poison work in his veins without resistance
in the sharpest exacerbations of his wound (like that on his
groin) he never dropt one fretful or discontented wordhe
blamed neither heaven nor earthor thought or spoke an
injurious thing of any body, or any part of it; he sat solitary
and pensive with his pipelooking at his lame legthen
whiffing out a sentimental heigh ho! which mixing with the
smoak, incommoded no one mortal.
He took it like a lambI 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
to the poor*; which said wood being in full view of my uncle
Tobys house, and of singular service to him in his description
of the battle of Wynnendaleby trotting on too hastily to save
itupon an uneasy saddleworse horse, &c. &c. . . it
had so happened, that the serous part of the blood had got
betwixt the two skins, in the nethermost part of my uncle Toby
the first shootings of which (as my uncle Toby had no
experience of love) he had taken for a part of the passiontill
the blister breaking in the one caseand the other remaining
my uncle Toby was presently convinced, that his wound was
not a skin-deep-woundbut that it had gone to his heart.
* Mr. Shandy must mean the poor in spirit; inasmuch as they divided the
money amongst themselves.
CHAP. XXVIIXXVIII 527
CHAP. XXVII.
T
HE world is ashamed of being virtuousMy 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 gapd knife across his
finger: Had it been otherwiseyet as he ever lookd upon
Trim as a humble friend; and saw fresh reasons every day of his
life, to treat him as suchit 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.
I
N love!said the corporalyour honour was very well
the day before yesterday, when I was telling your honour the
story of the King of BohemiaBohemia! 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 amtwas,
just whilst thou wentst off with the wheel-barrowwith Mrs.
Wadman, quoth my uncle TobyShe has left a ball here
added my uncle Tobypointing to his breast
She can no more, an please your honour, stand a siege,
than she can flycried the corporal
But as we are neighbours, Trim,the best way I think
is to let her know it civilly firstquoth 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 returnand telling her
528 VOL. VIII
civilly afterwardsfor if she knows any thing of your honours
being in love, before handLd help her!she knows no
more at present of it, Trim, said my uncle Tobythan 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 headbefore 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, Bridgetthat 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
thinkand I believe besides, added shethat tis dried
up
I could like to knowmerely for his sake, said Mrs.
Wadman
Well know the long and the broad of it, in ten days
answered Mrs. Bridget, for whilst the captain is paying his
addresses to youIm confident Mr. Trim will be for making
love to meand Ill let him as much as he willadded Bridget
to get it all out of him
The measures were taken at onceand 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 moreif 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,
exceedinglyand as I foresee thou must act in it as my aid de
camp, heres 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
honours laced cloaths out of the great campaign-trunk, to be
well-aird, and have the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves
CHAP. XXVIIIXXX 529
and Ill put your white ramallie-wig fresh into pipesand
send for a taylor, to have your honours thin scarlet breeches
turnd
I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my uncle Toby
They will be too clumsysaid the corporal.
CHAP. XXIX.
Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword
Twill be only in your honours way, replied Trim.
CHAP. XXX.
But your honours two razors shall be new setand I
will get my Montero cap furbishd up, and put on poor lieuten-
ant Le Fevers regimental coat, which your honour gave me to
wear for his sakeand as soon as your honour is clean shaved
and has got your clean shirt on, with your blue and gold, or
your fine scarletsometimes one and sometimes tother
and every thing is ready for the attackwell march up boldly,
as if twas to the face of a bastion; and whilst your honour
engages Mrs. Wadman in the parlour, to the rightIll attack
Mrs. Bridget in the kitchen, to the left; and having seizd that
pass, Ill answer for it, said the corporal, snapping his fingers
over his headthat the day is our own.
I wish I may but manage it right; said my uncle Tobybut I
declare, corporal I had rather march up to the very edge of a
trench
A woman is quite a different thingsaid the corporal.
I suppose so, quoth my uncle Toby.
530 VOL. VIII
CHAP. XXXI.
I
F 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 religionwould saytho with more facetiousness
than became an hermitThat 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
expressingbut of libelling, at the same time, the desires and
appetites of the lower part of us; so that for many years of my
fathers life, twas his constant mode of expressionhe never
used the word passions oncebut 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 mans, during
all that time.
I must here observe to you, the difference betwixt
My fathers ass
and my hobby-horsein order to keep characters as separ-
ate 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 himTis the sporting little filly-folly which carries
you out for the present houra maggot, a butterfly, a picture,
a fiddle-stickan uncle Tobys siegeor an any thing, which
a man makes a shift to get a stride on, to canter it away from
the cares and solicitudes of lifeTis as useful a beast as is in
the whole creationnor do I really see how the world could do
without it
But for my fathers assoh! mount himmount
himmount him(thats three times, is it not?)mount him
not:tis a beast concupiscentand foul befall the man, who
does not hinder him from kicking.
CHAP. XXXII 53
CHAP. XXXII.
W
ELL! dear brother Toby, said my father, upon his first
seeing him after he fell in loveand how goes it with
your ASSE?
Now my uncle Toby thinking more of the part where he
had had the blister, than of Hilarions metaphorand 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
hemmd in by two indecorums, and must commit one of em
I always observelet him choose which he will, the world
will blame himso I should not be astonished if it blames my
uncle Toby.
My Ae, quoth my uncle Toby, is much betterbrother
ShandyMy 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 laughand my mother
crying out L bless us!it drove my fathers Asse off the
fieldand the laugh then becoming generalthere 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
Tobyand we hope it is true.
I am as much in love, sister, I believe, replied my uncle Toby,
as any man usually isHumph! said my fatherand when
did you know it? quoth my mother
When the blister broke; replied my uncle Toby.
My uncle Tobys reply put my father into good temperso
he charged ofoot.
532 VOL. VIII
CHAP. XXXIII.
A
S 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 itthe 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 mothers face, as he forced his way
betwixt hers and doctor Slopsa few children! cried my
father, repeating my uncle Tobys words as he walkd 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
Tobys chairnot that I should be sorry hadst thou a score
on the contrary I should rejoiceand 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 fathers a squeeze
Nay, moreover, continued he, keeping hold of my uncle
Tobys handso much dost thou possess, my dear Toby, of
the milk of human nature, and so little of its asperitiestis
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 projectI would oblige thee, provided it
would not impair thy strengthor dry up thy radical moisture
too fastor weaken thy memory or fancy, brother Toby, which
these gymnicks inordinately taken, are apt to doelse, 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 sentencemy
mother took a pinch of snuff.
Now I would not, quoth my uncle Toby, get a child, nolens,
CHAP. XXXIII 533
volens, that is, whether I would or no, to please the greatest
prince upon earth
And twould be cruel in me, brother Toby, to compell
thee; said my fatherbut tis a case put to shew thee, that it is
not thy begetting a childin case thou shouldst be ablebut
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 Shandys 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 LOVESI know there
were two RELIGIONS, replied Yorick, amongst the ancients
onefor 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 fatherand for the same reasons: for
of these Loves, according to Ficinuss comment upon Velasius,
the one is rational
the other is natural
the first ancientwithout motherwhere 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 truththe 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 housemy dear, I ownIt replenishes the
earth; said my mother
534 VOL. VIII
But it keeps heaven emptymy dear; replied my father.
Tis Virginity, cried Slop, triumphantly, which fills
paradise.
Well pushd nun! quoth my father.
CHAP. XXXIV.
M
Y father had such a skirmishing, cutting kind of a slash-
ing way with him in his disputations, thrusting and
ripping, and giving every one a stroke to remember him by in
his turnthat if there were twenty people in companyin
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 twould 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 Slops 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
Slops 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 taylor, in ripping them up, in order to turn them, had found
they had been turnd beforeThen turn them again, brother,
said my father rapidly, for there will be many a turning of em
yet before alls done in the affairThey are as rotten as
dirt, said the corporalThen by all means, said my father,
bespeak a new pair, brotherfor 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
CHAP. XXXIV 535
him into the same passion, yet now that she has caught him
her fever will be passd its height
She has gaind her point.
In this case, continued my father, which Plato, I am persuaded,
never thought ofLove, you see, is not so much a SENTI-
MENT as a SITUATION, into which a man enters, as my brother
Toby would do, into a corpsno matter whether he loves
the service or nobeing once in ithe acts as if he did; and
takes every step to shew himself a man of prowesse.
The hypothesis, like the rest of my fathers, was plausible
enough, and my uncle Toby had but a single word to object to
itin which Trim stood ready to second himbut 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 Tobyand 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 playd this twelvemonth.
We have taken our measures badly, quoth my uncle Toby,
looking up interrogatively in Trims face.
I would lay my Montero cap, said TrimNow Trims
Montero-cap, as I once told you, was his constant wager; and
having furbishd it up that very night, in order to go upon the
attackit made the odds look more considerableI 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 fathertis
a mode of expression; for in saying thou wouldst lay thy
Montero-cap to a shillingall thou meanest is thisthat thou
believest
Now, What dost thou believe?
That Widow Wadman, an please your worship, cannot hold
it out ten days
And whence, cried Slop, jeeringly, hast thou all this
knowledge of woman, friend?
By falling in love with a popish clergy-woman; said Trim.
536 VOL. VIII
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
baggagesSlop could not stand itand my uncle Toby
having some measures to take about his breechesand Yorick
about his fourth general divisionin order for their several
attacks next daythe 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,
W
HAT 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 theetho not so well for methat 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
lotsand thou no sufferer by the knowledge, I had been well
content that thou shouldst have dippd 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 bedI 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 affairthough 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 neglectestyet I would remind thee of one
(during the continuance of thy courtship) in a particular
manner, which I would not have omitted; and that is, never to
go forth upon the enterprize, whether it be in the morning
or the afternoon, without first recommending thyself to the
CHAP. XXXIV 537
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 Timehow 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 areelse 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 dis-
course 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 overit 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
knowest, 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 itthou 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
conquerd by that, and thy ASSE continues still kicking, which
there is great reason to supposeThou must begin, with first
538 VOL. VIII
losing a few ounces of blood below the ears, according to the
practice of the ancient Scythians, who cured the most intemper-
ate 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 goats
flesh, nor red deernor even foals flesh by any means;
and carefully abstainthat is, as much as thou canst, from
peacocks, cranes, coots, didappers, and water-hens
As for thy drinkI need not tell thee, it must be the infusion
of VERVAIN, and the herb HANEA, of which lian relates such
effectsbut if thy stomach palls with itdiscontinue 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 warSo wishing
every thing, dear Toby, for the best,
I rest thy affectionate brother,
WALTER SHANDY.
CHAP. XXXV.
W
HILST 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 resolvd upon, for eleven oclock.
Come, my dear, said my father to my mothertwill be but
like a brother and sister, if you and I take a walk down to my
brother Tobysto countenance him in this attack of his.
My uncle Toby and the corporal had been accoutred both
some time, when my father and mother enterd, and the clock
striking eleven, were that moment in motion to sally forth
CHAP. XXXV 539
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 Tobys coat-pocketand join with my mother in
wishing his attack prosperous.
I could like, said my mother, to look through the key-hole
out of curiosityCall it by its right name, my dear, quoth
my father
And look through the key-hole as long as you will.
END of the EIGHTH VOLUME.
T H E
L I F E
A N D
O P I N I O N S
O F
TRISTRAM SHANDY,
G E N T L E M A N.
Si quid urbaniuscul lusum a nobis, per Musas et Cha-
ritas et omnium poetarum Numina, Oro te, ne me
mal capias.
V O L. I X.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DEHONDT,
in the Strand. MDCCLXVII.
A
DEDICATION
TO A
GREAT MAN.
H
AVING, 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 prefermentor any thing
elsein 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 hours amusement to Mr. * * * when out of placeoperates
more forcibly at present, as half an hours 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
futureI propose to dedicate that Volume to some gentle
Shepherd,
Whose Thoughts proud Science never taught to stray,
Far as the Statesmans walk or Patriot-way;
Yet simple Nature to his hopes had given
Out of a cloud-cappd head a humbler heaven;
Some untamd 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.
THE
LIFE and OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

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 Tobys amours, till this
very moment, that my mothers curiosity, as she stated the
affair,or a different impulse in her, as my father would
have itwished 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 fathers habit, could have
vented such an insinuationhe was however frank and gen-
erous 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 hisshe raised her fingers, and let them
fallit could scarce be calld a tap; or if it was a tap
twould have puzzled a casuist to say, whether twas a tap of
remonstrance, or a tap of confession: my father, who was all
546 VOL. IX
sensibilities from head to foot, classd it rightConscience
redoubled her blowhe turnd 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 himselfa 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 existedit did notand how I happen to be so
lewd myself, particularly a little before the vernal and autumnal
equinoxesHeaven above knowsMy mother
madamwas 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 oneAnd as for my fathers 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 headNature had done her part, to have
spared him this trouble; and what was not a little inconsistent,
my father knew itAnd here am I sitting, this 2th day of
August, 766, 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 mans child, upon that very account.
The mistake of my father, was in attacking my mothers
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 wasit became a violation of nature; and
was so far, you see, criminal.
It is for this reason, an please your Reverences, That key-holes
CHAP. III 547
are the occasions of more sin and wickedness, than all other
holes in this world put together.
which leads me to my uncle Tobys amours.
CHAP. II.
T
HOUGH the Corporal had been as good as his word in
putting my uncle Tobys 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 cam-
paign 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 airhad SPLEEN given a look at it, twould
have cost her ladyship a smileit curld 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 wasor rather such would it have seemd upon
any other brow; but the sweet look of goodness which sat
upon my uncle Tobys, assimulated every thing around it so
sovereignly to itself, and Nature had moreover wrote GENTLE-
MAN with so fair a hand in every line of his countenance, that
even his tarnishd gold-laced hat and huge cockade of flimsy
taffeta became him; and though not worth a button in them-
selves, yet the moment my uncle Toby put them on, they became
serious objects, and altogether seemd 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 power-
fully towards this, than my uncle Tobys blue and goldhad
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 Tobys life, for he seldom went
548 VOL. IX
further than the bowling-greenhis blue and gold had become
so miserably too strait for him, that it was with the utmost
difficulty the Corporal was able to get him into them: the taking
them up at the sleeves, was of no advantage.They were
laced however down the back, and at the seams of the sides,
&c. in the mode of King Williams 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 unrippd by
the taylor 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 Tobys wardrobe, he sallied
forth in the red plush.
The Corporal had arrayd himself in poor Le Fevres regi-
mental coat; and with his hair tuckd up under his Montero
cap, which he had furbishd up for the occasion, marchd
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 clippd into a tassel beyond the knot, hung the
Corporals stickMy uncle Toby carried his cane like
a pike.
It looks well at least; quoth my father to himself.
CHAP. III.
M
Y uncle Toby turnd 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
stickbut 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 reproachd him) so much as the right end
of a Woman from the wrong, and therefore was never altogether
CHAP. IIIIV 549
at his ease near any one of themunless 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 womans eye; and yet excepting once
that he was beguiled into it by Mrs. Wadman, he had never
looked stedfastly into one; and would often tell my father in the
simplicity of his heart, that it was almost (if not alout) as bad
as talking bawdy.
And suppose it is? my father would say.
CHAP. IV.
S
HE cannot, quoth my uncle Toby, halting, when they had
marchd up to within twenty paces of Mrs. Wadmans
doorshe cannot, Corporal, take it amiss.
She will take it, an please your honour, said the Cor-
poral, just as the Jews 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 Toms mis-
fortunes; 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 draggd to the inquisitionTis a
cursed placeadded 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.
Wadmans house, as he spoke.
Nothing, continued the Corporal, can be so sad as confine-
ment for lifeor so sweet, an please your honour, as liberty.
Nothing, Trimsaid my uncle Toby, musing
Whilst a man is freecried the Corporal, giving a flourish
with his stick thus
550 VOL. IX
A thousand of my fathers most subtle syllogisms could not have
said more for celibacy.
My uncle Toby lookd earnestly towards his cottage and his
bowling green.
The Corporal had unwarily conjured up the Spirit of calcu-
lation 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.
A
S Toms place, an please your honour, was easyand
the weather warmit 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 tradeTom thought (as every body in Lisbon
CHAP. V 55
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 shopTom set outcounting the matter thus
within himself, as he walkd along; that let the worst come of it
that could, he should at least get a pound of sausages for their
worthbut, if things went well, he should be set up; inasmuch
as he should get not only a pound of sausagesbut a wife
and a sausage-shop, an please your honour, into the bargain.
Every servant in the family, from high to low, wishd 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 oone side, passing jollily along the street, swinging his
stick, with a smile and a chearful 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 apostro-
phized 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 warmd
Then he resembled thee, Trim, said my uncle Toby,
rapidly.
The Corporal blushd down to his fingers endsa tear of
sentimental bashfulnessanother of gratitude to my uncle
Tobyand a tear of sorrow for his brothers misfortunes,
started into his eye and ran sweetly down his cheek together;
my uncle Tobys kindled as one lamp does at another; and
taking hold of the breast of Trims coat (which had been that of
Le Fevres) as if to ease his lame leg, but in reality to gratify a
finer feelinghe 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 Jews
widow.
552 VOL. IX
CHAP. VI.
W
HEN 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 fliesnot killing them.Tis a pretty picture!
said my uncle Tobyshe 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 winters evening, when your honour is
in the humour, they shall be told you with the rest of Toms
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 protectionand her brethren with
her; tis the fortune of war which has put the whip into our
hands nowwhere 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 onbut
with an embarrassment in doing it, which here and there a
CHAP. VIVII 553
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 otherthe Corporal got as near the note as he could;
and in that attitude, continued his story.
CHAP. VII.
A
S 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 Jews widow about loveand 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 sausagesSo Tom began
a discourse upon them; first gravely,as how they were
madewith what meats, herbs and spicesThen a little
gaylyas, With what skinsand if they never burst
Whether the largest were not the bestand so ontaking
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 Trims shoulder, That Count
de la Motte lost the battle of Wynendale: 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
554 VOL. IX
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 mindmy uncle Toby said noth-
ing 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 handthen by
cutting the strings into proper lengths, and holding them in his
hand, whilst she took them out one by onethen, by putting
them across her mouth, that she might take them out as she
wanted themand 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 chuses 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 Toms had more gristle in it
She signed the capitulationand Tom sealed it; and there
was an end of the matter.
CHAP. VIII.
A
LL 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 chuse to
have them cut; and there is no knowing that, but by trying as
CHAP. VIII 555
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 worldand 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 plun-
derings of the manywhenever 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 marchd
firmly as at the head of his companyand the faithful Cor-
poral, shouldering his stick, and striking his hand upon his
coat-skirt as he took his first stepmarchd close behind him
down the avenue.
Now what can their two noddles be about? cried my
father to my motherby all thats 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 motherBut stop, dear Sirfor
what my mother dared to say upon the occasionand what
my father did say upon itwith her replies and his rejoinders,
shall be read, perused, paraphrased, commented and discanted
uponor to say it all in a word, shall be thumbd over by
Posterity in a chapter apartI say, by Posterityand care
not, if I repeat the word againfor 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 moreevery thing presses on
556 VOL. IX
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.
N
OW, for what the world thinks of that ejaculationI
would not give a groat.
CHAP. X.
M
Y mother had gone with her left arm twisted in my
fathers 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. Wadmans 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 turnd aboutLet us just stop a
moment, quoth my father, and see with what ceremonies my
brother Toby and his man Trim make their first entryit
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 Jews widow: the story went onand on
it had episodes in itit came back, and went on
and on again; there was no end of itthe reader found it
very long
G help my father! he pishd fifty times at every new
attitude, and gave the corporals 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
CHAP. XXI 557
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 conomy to justify the expence of the firstand for the
third, fourth, fifth, and sixth moments, and so on to the day of
judgmenttis 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 Trims story; and from thence to the
end of my uncle Tobys panegyrick upon arms, in the chapter
following it; when seeing, that instead of marching up to Mrs.
Wadmans door, they both faced about and marchd down the
avenue diametrically opposite to his expectationhe 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.

N
OW what can their two noddles be about? cried
my father &c.
I dare say, said my mother, they are making fortifica-
tions
Not on Mrs. Wadmans premises! cried my father, step-
ping 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 thingssaid my mother.
Now she had a way, which by the bye, I would this moment
558 VOL. IX
give away my purple jerkin, and my yellow slippers into the
bargain, if some of your reverences would imitateand 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
herbut no more; and so would go on using a hard word
twenty years togetherand 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 enoughhe tasted the sweet of triumphand
went on.
Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs. Wadmans
premises, said my father, partly correcting himselfbecause
she is but tenant for life
That makes a great differencesaid my mother
In a fools head, replied my father
Unless she should happen to have a childsaid 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 persuasionsaid my father
Lord have mercy upon them.
Amen: said my mother, piano.
Amen: cried my father, fortissim.
Amen: said my mother againbut with such a sighing
cadence of personal pity at the end of it, as discomfited every
fibre about my fatherhe instantly took out his almanack; but
before he could untie it, Yoricks congregation coming out of
church, became a full answer to one half of his business with
CHAP. XIXII 559
itand my mother telling him it was a sacrament dayleft
him as little in doubt, as to the other partHe 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.
U
PON looking back from the end of the last chapter and
surveying the texture of what has been wrote, it is neces-
sary, 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 kings highway) which will do the businessno; 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 capriciousWIT must not be searched
forand 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 bodilyfor that purpose, he will find himself
rather worse after he has said them than beforefor 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:
560 VOL. IX
These are good, quoth I, in themselvesthey are good, abso-
lutely;they are good, relatively;they are good for health
they are good for happiness in this worldthey 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.
N
OW 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 meI 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;
CHAP. XIII 56
taking care only if I do leave a hair, that it be not a grey one:
this done, I change my shirtput on a better coatsend for
my last wigput 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 chuses 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 itthe 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
sublimityHow Homer could write with so long a beard, I
dont knowand as it makes against my hypothesis, I as
little careBut let us return to the Toilet.
Ludovicus Sorbonensis makes this entirely an affair of the
body ( ) as he calls itbut he is deceived: the
soul and body are joint-sharers in every thing they get: A man
cannot dress, but his ideas get cloathd at the same time; and if
he dresses like a gentleman, every one of them stands presented
to his imagination, genteelized along with himso 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 Laundresss 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 abusd, cursd, criticisd 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.
562 VOL. IX
CHAP. XIV.
A
S I never had any intention of beginning the Digression, I
am making all this preparation for, till I come to the 5th
chapterI have this chapter to put to whatever use I think
properI have twenty this moment ready for itI 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 themthey 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 before-hand, 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-mouthd a man as Thersites to continue upon his roll
for it has furnished him with an epithet)in these pro-
ductions he will urge, all the personal washings and scrubbings
upon earth do a sinking genius no sort of goodbut just
the contrary, inasmuch as the dirtier the fellow is, the better
generally he succeeds in it.
To this, I have no other answerat least readybut
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 lookd upon by one part of the world, was far
from being deemd so, by the other, upon the single account of
that Investment.
Another objection, to all this remedy, is its want of universal-
ity; 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 een go with-
out it
CHAP. XIVXVI 563
As for the Spanish ladiesI am in no sort of dis-
tress
CHAP. XV.
T
HE 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 digressionI declare before heaven I
have made it! What a strange creature is mortal man! said she.
Tis very true, said Ibut twere better to get all these
things out of our heads, and return to my uncle Toby.
CHAP. XVI.
W
HEN 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. Wadmans 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 doorMy uncle Toby, contrary to his invariable
way of treating his faithful servant, said nothing good or bad:
the truth was, he had not altogether marshald his ideas; he
wishd for another conference, and as the Corporal was mount-
ing up the three steps before the doorhe hemd twicea
portion of my uncle Tobys 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, benumbd 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.
564 VOL. IX
Trim! said my uncle Tobybut 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
knockd on the head by itwhistled Lillabullero.
CHAP. XVII.
A
S Mrs. Bridgets finger and thumb were upon the latch, the
Corporal did not knock as oft as perchance your honours
taylorI might have taken my example something nearer
home; for I owe mine, some five and twenty pounds at least,
and wonder at the mans 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, Im persuaded there is not any one prince, prelate, pope,
or potentate, great or small upon earth, more desirous in his
heart of keeping streight with the world than I amor who
takes more likely means for it. I never give above half a guinea
or walk with bootsor cheapen tooth-picksor lay
out a shilling upon a band-box the year round; and for the six
months Im in the country, Im upon so small a scale, that with
all the good temper in the world, I out-do Rousseau, a bar
lengthfor 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 myselfbut if you think this makes a
philosopher of meI would not, my good people! give a rush
for your judgments.
True philosophybut there is no treating the subject
whilst my uncle is whistling Lillabullero.
Let us go into the house.
CHAP. XVIII 565
CHAP. XVIII.
566 VOL. IX
CHAP. XIX.
CHAP. XX 567
CHAP. XX.
* * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *.
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *
You shall see the very place, Madam; said my uncle
Toby.
Mrs. Wadman blushdlookd towards the door
turnd paleblushd slightly againrecovered her natural
colourblushd worse than ever; which for the sake of the
unlearned reader, I translate thus
Ld! I cannot look at it
What would the world say if I lookd at it?
I should drop down, if I lookd 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. Wadmans imagina-
tion, 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 TobyI saw it there, an please your honour,
this morning, answered TrimThen 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 chear-
fully obeyd them. The first was not an act of his willthe
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.
568 VOL. IX
You shall lay your finger upon the placesaid my uncle
Toby.I will not touch it, however, quoth Mrs. Wadman to
herself.
This requires a second translation:it shews what little
knowledge is got by mere wordswe 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 foreheadsblow your
nosescleanse your emunctoriessneeze, my good people!
God bless you
Now give me all the help you can.
CHAP. XXI.
A
S there are fifty different ends (counting all ends inas
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 oneand if she hasthen, 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 readers fancy, in the beginning of his third Decad, is so
ludicrous, that the honour I bear the sex, will not suffer me to
quote itotherwise 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 itFor what?youll not know the sooner, quoth
Slawkenbergius, for interrupting me
I have nothing, good Lady, but empty bottles; says the asse.
Im loaded with tripes; says the second.
And thou art little better, quoth she to the third; for
CHAP. XXIXXII 569
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 itconsiders itsamples
itmeasures itstretches itwets itdries itthen 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.
W
E live in a world beset on all sides with mysteries and
riddlesand so tis no matterelse it seems strange,
that Nature, who makes every thing so well to answer its desti-
nation, 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 asses 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 clayor that it is fre-
quently spoiled in the baking; by an excess of which a husband
may turn out too crusty (you know) on one handor not
enough so, through defect of heat, on the otheror whether
this great Artificer is not so attentive to the little Platonic exi-
gences of that part of the species, for whose use she is fabricating
thisor that her Ladyship sometimes scarce knows what
sort of a husband will doI know not: we will discourse
about it after supper.
It is enough, that neither the observation itself, or the reason-
ing upon it, are at all to the purposebut rather against it;
since with regard to my uncle Tobys fitness for the marriage
state, nothing was ever better: she had formed him of the best
570 VOL. IX
and kindliest clayhad temperd it with her own milk, and
breathed into it the sweetest spiritshe had made him all
gentle, generous and humaneshe had filld his heart with
trust and confidence, and disposed every passage which led to
it, for the communication of the tenderest officesshe had
moreover considered the other causes for which matrimony was
ordained
And accordingly * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *.
The DONATION was not defeated by my uncle Tobys
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. Wadmans brain about it; and like a true devil
as he was, had done his own work at the same time, by turning
my uncle Tobys Virtue thereupon into nothing but empty
bottles, tripes, trunk-hose, and pantofles.
CHAP. XXIII.
M
RS. Bridget had pawnd 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 postulatums 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 herAnd Ill 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 mistresss interests in the oneand
doing the thing which most pleased herself in the other; so had
as many stakes depending upon my uncle Tobys wound, as
the Devil himselfMrs. Wadman had but oneand as it
possibly might be her last (without discouraging Mrs. Bridget,
CHAP. XXIIIXXIV 57
or discrediting her talents) was determined to play her cards
herself.
She wanted not encouragement: a child might have lookd
into his handthere was such a plainness and simplicity in his
playing out what trumps he hadwith such an unmistrusting
ignorance of the ten-aceand so naked and defenceless did
he sit upon the same sopha with widow Wadman, that a gener-
ous heart would have wept to have won the game of him.
Let us drop the metaphor.
CHAP. XXIV.

A
ND the story tooif 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 willI see the difficulties of the descriptions Im
going to giveand 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 subtile aura of the brainbe
it which it willan Invocation can do no hurtand I leave
the affair entirely to the invoked, to inspire or to inject me
according as he sees good.
THE I NVOCATION.
G
ENTLE Spirit of sweetest humour, who erst didst sit
upon the easy pen of my beloved CERVANTES; Thou who
glidedst daily through his lattice, and turnedst the twilight
of his prison into noon-day brightness by thy presence
572 VOL. IX
tingedst 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 oer his witherd* 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 worldthat piteous
rent was given them at Lyons
My shirts! see what a deadly schism has happend amongst
emfor 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 fiveTo do her justice, she
did it with some considerationfor I was returning out of
Italy.
And yet, notwithstanding all this, and a pistol tinder-box
which was moreover filchd from me at Sienna, and twice that I
payd five Pauls for two hard eggs, once at Raddicoffini, and a
second time at CapuaI 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 muchand for the
livre or two above par for your suppers and bedat the most
they are but one shilling and ninepence halfpennywho
would embroil their philosophy for it? for heavens and for your
own sake, pay itpay it with both hands open, rather than
leave Disappointment sitting drooping upon the eye of your fair
Hostess and her Damsels in the gate-way, at your departure
and besides, my dear Sir, you get a sisterly kiss of each of
em worth a poundat least I did
For my uncle Tobys amours running all the way in my
head, they had the same effect upon me as if they had been my
ownI was in the most perfect state of bounty and good
* He lost his hand at the battle of Lepanto.
CHAP. XXIIIXXIV 573
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, touchd 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 distinctlyTis
Maria; said the postilion, observing I was listeningPoor
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 utterd 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
postillionit 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 againthey were
the same notes;yet were ten times sweeter: It is the evening
service to the Virgin, said the young manbut who has
taught her to play itor 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
consolationshe 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 Marias 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
574 VOL. IX
twisted a little fantastically on one sideshe 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 melan-
choly, 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 lookd wistfully for some time at me, and then at her
goatand then at meand then at her goat again, and so
on, alternately
Well, Maria, said I softlyWhat resemblance do
you find?
I do intreat the candid reader to believe me, that it was from
the humblest conviction of what a Beast man is,that I
askd 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 scatterdand 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 daysand nevernever attempt
again to commit mirth with man, woman, or child, the longest
day I had to live.
As for writing nonsense to themI believe, there was a
reservebut 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 lipsbut
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 walkd softly to my chaise.
What an excellent inn at Moulins!
CHAP. XXV 575
CHAP. XXV.
W
HEN 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
hourI 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 chap-
ters which are written in the world, or, for aught I know, may
be now writing in itthat 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 worldThat 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 calld as many blockheads, numsculs,
doddypoles, dunderheads, ninnyhammers, goosecaps, jolt-
heads, nicompoops, and sh - - t-a-bedsand other unsavory
appellations, as ever the cake-bakers of Lern, cast in the teeth
of King Gargantuas shepherdsAnd Ill 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 8th, &c.
So I dont take it amissAll I wish is, that it may
be a lesson to the world, to let people tell their stories their
own way.
The Eighteenth Chapter.
A
S Mrs. Bridget opend the door before the Corporal had
well given the rap, the interval betwixt that and my uncle
Tobys introduction into the parlour, was so short, that Mrs.
Wadman had but just time to get from behind the curtain
576 VOL. IX
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 marchd up abreast with her to the
sopha, and in three plain wordsthough not before he
was sat downnor after he was sat downbut as he
was sitting down, told her, he was in loveso 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 masterWhen 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
Tobys, as he falsely called it, and would often say, that could
his brother Toby to his processe have added but a pipe of
tobaccohe 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 condem-
nation 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-blushing, as she did itshe took up the gauntletor
CHAP. XXV 577
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 sosaid my uncle Toby:
and therefore when a person, continued Mrs. Wadman, is so
much at his ease as you areso happy, captain Shandy, in
yourself, your friends and your amusementsI 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 gulph as she
pleased.
As for childrensaid Mrs. Wadmanthough a princi-
pal end perhaps of the institution, and the natural wish, I sup-
pose, of every parentyet 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-acheswhat 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.
N
OW 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 cleanlinessThat 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 Tobys modest blood into his cheeksso feeling
578 VOL. IX
within himself that he had somehow or other got beyond his
depth, he stopt short; and without entering further either into
the pains or pleasures of matrimony, he laid his hand upon his
heart, and made an offer to take them as they were, and share
them along with her.
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 Jerichohe 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 worldin short, it workd not at all in her;
and the cause of that was, that there was something working
there beforeBabbler that I am! I have anticipated what it
was a dozen times; but there is fire still in the subjectallons.
CHAP. XXVI.
I
T 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 waynor does any body
wonder, if he goes on and asks about the Corporation, &c.
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 Drakes anatomy from one end to
the other. She had peeped into Wharton upon the brain, and
borrowed * Graaf upon the bones and muscles; but could make
nothing of it.
* This must be a mistake in Mr. Shandy; for Graaf wrote upon the pancreatick
juice, and the parts of generation.
CHAP. XXVI 579
She had reasond likewise from her own powerslaid
down theoremsdrawn consequences, and come to no con-
clusion.
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 restand 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 humanityhow 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 ctera, were so tenderly spoke
to, and so directed towards my uncle Tobys heart, that every
item of them sunk ten times deeper into it than the evils them-
selvesbut when Mrs. Wadman went round about by
Namur to get at my uncle Tobys groin; and engaged him to
attack the point of the advanced counterscarp, and ple mle
with the Dutch to take the counterguard of St. Roch sword in
handand 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 tentHeaven! Earth! Sea!all was lifted
upthe springs of nature rose above their levelsan angel of
mercy sat besides him on the sophahis heart glowd with
580 VOL. IX
fireand 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 waist-
band of my uncle Tobys red plush breeches, expecting naturally,
as the shortest reply to it, that my uncle Toby would lay his
fore-finger upon the placeIt fell out otherwisefor 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 Tobys
sensoriumand 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 Corporals aid, during his
long illnessit 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. Wad-
mans 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 beingif not,
twas her shadeshook her head, and with a finger wavering
across her eyesforbid her to explain the mistake.
Unhappy Mrs. Wadman!
For nothing can make this chapter go off with spirit but
an apostrophe to theebut 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 distresslet the chapter go to the devil;
provided any damnd critick in keeping will be but at the
trouble to take it with him.
CHAP. XXVIIXXVIII 58
CHAP. XXVII.
M
Y uncle Tobys Map is carried down into the kitchen.
CHAP. XXVIII.

A
ND here is the Maesand this is the Sambre; said
the Corporal, pointing with his right hand extended
a little towards the map, and his left upon Mrs. Bridgets shoul-
derbut not the shoulder next himand this, said he, is the
town of Namurand this the citadeland there lay the
Frenchand here lay his honour and myselfand in this
cursed trench, Mrs. Bridget, quoth the Corporal, taking her
by the hand, did he receive the wound which crushd him so
miserably hereIn pronouncing which he slightly pressd
the back of her hand towards the part he felt forand let
it fall.
We thought, Mr. Trim, it had been more in the middle
said Mrs. Bridget
That would have undone us for eversaid the Corporal.
And left my poor mistress undone toosaid Bridget.
The Corporal made no reply to the repartee, but by giving
Mrs. Bridget a kiss.
Comecomesaid Bridgetholding 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 protuberanceTis 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 wit-
nesses.
Upon my honour, said the Corporal, laying his hand
upon his heart, and blushing as he spoke with honest resent-
menttis a story, Mrs. Bridget, as false as hellNot, said
Bridget, interrupting him, that either I or my mistress care a
582 VOL. IX
halfpenny about it, whether tis so or noonly that when
one is married, one would chuse 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.
I
T was like the momentary contest in the moist eye-lids of an
April morning, Whether Bridget should laugh or cry.
She snatchd up a rolling-pintwas ten to one, she had
laughd
She laid it downshe cried; and had one single tear of
em but tasted of bitterness, full sorrowful would the Corporals
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 ofbut thou hast been set on, and deluded,
dear Bridget, as is often a womans case, to please others more
than themselves
Bridgets eyes poured down at the sensations the Corporal
excited.
Tell metell me then, my dear Bridget, continued the
Corporal, taking hold of her hand, which hung down dead by
her side,and giving a second kisswhose suspicion has
misled thee?
CHAP. XXIXXXXI 583
Bridget sobbd a sob or twothen opend her eyes
the Corporal wiped em with the bottom of her apronshe
then opend her heart and told him all.
CHAP. XXX.
M
Y 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 attacksand so had nothing to communicate
The Corporal, on his side, in taking Bridget, by it had gaind
considerable advantagesand consequently had much to
communicatebut what were the advantagesas well,
as what was the manner by which he had seizd 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 masters modesty for a single moment
Best of honest and gallant servants!But I have apos-
trophizd thee, Trim! once beforeand could I apotheosize
thee also (that is to say) with good companyI would do it
without ceremony in the very next page.
CHAP. XXXI.
N
OW 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. Wadmans
perfections one by one; and happening two or three times
584 VOL. IX
together, either by omitting some, or counting others twice over,
to puzzle himself sadly before he could get beyond his middle
fingerPrithee, Trim! said he, taking up his pipe again,
bring me a pen and ink: Trim brought paper also.
Take a full sheetTrim! 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 obeyedplaced the
paper directly before himtook a pen and dipd 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 characterI protest, added my uncle
Toby, looking up, as he protested it, towards the top of the
ceilingThat was I her brother, Trim, a thousand fold, she
could not make more constant or more tender enquiries after
my sufferingsthough now no more.
The Corporal made no reply to my uncle Tobys protestation,
but by a short coughhe dipd 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 itthe Corporal wrote down the word
HUMANITY thus.
Prithee, Corporal, said my uncle Toby, as soon as Trim had
done ithow often does Mrs. Bridget enquire after the
wound on the cap of thy knee, which thou receivedst 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 permitThat shews the
difference in the character of the mistress and maidhad the
fortune of war allotted the same mischance to me, Mrs. Wadman
would have enquired into every circumstance relating to it a
hundred timesShe would have enquired, an please your
honour, ten times as often about your honours groinThe
CHAP. XXXIXXXII 585
pain, Trim, is equally excruciating,and Compassion has as
much to do with the one as the other
God bless your honour! cried the Corporalwhat
has a womans compassion to do with a wound upon the cap
of a mans knee? had your honours 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 bodywhereas
the groin, your honour knows, is upon the very curtin of the
place.
My uncle Toby gave a long whistlebut in a note which
could scarce be heard across the table.
The Corporal had advanced too far to retirein 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 spiders
web
Let us go to my brother Shandys, said he.
CHAP. XXXII.
T
HERE will be just time, whilst my uncle Toby and Trim
are walking to my fathers, 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 mistresss 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 aboutbut 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 truckd it with the dairy-maid for
586 VOL. IX
something of about the same valueand though whisperd
in the hay-loft, FAME caught the notes with her brazen trumpet
and sounded them upon the house-topIn a word, not an old
woman in the village or five miles round, who did not under-
stand the difficulties of my uncle Tobys siege, and what were
the secret articles which had delayd 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 didhad 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 bynot 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 Tobys
(inclusive) was owing one way or other to the same unruly
appetite.
Yorick was just bringing my fathers hypothesis to some
temper, when my uncle Toby entering the room with marks of
infinite benevolence and forgiveness in his looks, my fathers
eloquence rekindled against the passionand as he was not
very nice in the choice of his words when he was wrothas
soon as my uncle Toby was seated by the fire, and had filled his
pipe, my father broke out in this manner.
CHAP. XXXIII.

T
HAT provision should be made for continuing the
race of so great, so exalted and godlike a Being as
manI am far from denyingbut 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 backwardsa passion, my dear,
continued my father, addressing himself to my mother, which
couples and equals wise men with fools, and makes us come out
CHAP. XXXIII 587
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 takenlike
hunger, or thirst, or sleeptis an affair neither good or
bador shameful or otherwise.Why then did the delicacy
of Diogenes and Plato so recalcitrate against it? and where-
fore, 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
thereofthe congredientsthe preparationsthe instru-
ments, 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 voiceand turning to my uncle Toby
you see, is gloriousand the weapons by which we do it are
honourableWe march with them upon our shoulders
We strut with them by our sidesWe gild themWe carve
themWe in-lay themWe enrich themNay, 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 epithetand 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 otherbecause as chance would
have it, it was the day on which he was married to my fathers
house-maidso one was a reckoning to the other. Therefore
when Obadiahs wife was brought to bedObadiah thanked
God
Now, said Obadiah, I shall have a calf: so Obadiah went
daily to visit his cow.
588 VOL. IX
Shell calve on Mondayon Tuesdayor Wednesday at the
farthest
The cow did not calvenoshell not calve till next week
the cow put it off terriblytill at the end of the sixth
week Obadiahs suspicions (like a good mans) fell upon the
Bull.
Now the parish being very large, my fathers Bull, to speak
the truth of him, was no way equal to the department; he had,
however, got himself, somehow or other, thrust into employ-
mentand 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 Bulls fault
But may not a cow be barren? replied my father, turning
to Doctor Slop.
It never happens: said Dr. Slop, but the mans wife may have
come before her time naturally enoughPrithee 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 weeksWheu u u
cried my father; beginning the sentence with an
exclamatory whistleand so, brother Toby, this poor Bull
of mine, who is as good a Bull as ever pssd, and might have
done for Europa herself in purer timeshad he but two legs
less, might have been driven into Doctors Commons and lost
his characterwhich 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 YorickAnd one of the best
of its kind, I ever heard.
The END of the NINTH VOLUME.
A
SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
T H R O U G H
F R A N C E A N D I TA L Y.
B Y
MR. Y O R I C K.
V O L. I.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DE HONDT,
in the Strand. MDCCLXVIII.
A
SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
&c. &c.

T
HEY order, said I, this matter better in France
You have been in France? said my gentleman, turning
quick upon me with the most civil triumph in the world.Strange!
quoth I, debating the matter with myself, That one and twenty miles
sailing, for tis absolutely no further from Dover to Calais, should
give a man these rightsIll look into them: so giving up the argu-
mentI went straight to my lodgings, put up half a dozen shirts
and a black pair of silk breechesthe coat I have on, said I, looking
at the sleeve, will dotook a place in the Dover stage; and the
packet sailing at nine the next morningby three I had got sat
down to my dinner upon a fricasseed chicken so incontestably in
France, that had I died that night of an indigestion, the whole
world could not have suspended the effects of the *Droits daub-
ainemy shirts, and black pair of silk breechesportmanteau and
all must have gone to the King of Franceeven the little picture
which I have so long worn, and so often have told thee, Eliza, I
would carry with me into my grave, would have been torn from my
neck.Ungenerous!to seize upon the wreck of an unwary pas-
senger, whom your subjects had beckond to their coastby
heaven! SIRE, it is not well done; and much does it grieve me, tis
the monarch of a people so civilized and courteous, and so
renownd for sentiment and fine feelings, that I have to reason
with
But I have scarce set foot in your dominions
* All the effects of strangers (Swiss and Scotch excepted) dying in France, are seized
by virtue of this law, tho the heir be upon the spotthe profit of these contingencies
being farmd, there is no redress.
592 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
CALAI S.
W
HEN I had finishd my dinner, and drank the King of Frances
health, to satisfy my mind that I bore him no spleen, but, on the
contrary, high honour for the humanity of his temperI rose up an
inch taller for the accommodation.
Nosaid Ithe Bourbon is by no means a cruel race: they may
be misled like other people; but there is a mildness in their blood. As
I acknowledged this, I felt a suffusion of a finer kind upon my
cheekmore warm and friendly to man, than what Burgundy (at
least of two livres a bottle, which was such as I had been drinking)
could have produced.
Just God! said I, kicking my portmanteau aside, what is there in
this worlds goods which should sharpen our spirits, and make so
many kind-hearted brethren of us, fall out so cruelly as we do by the
way?
When man is at peace with man, how much lighter than a feather
is the heaviest of metals in his hand! he pulls out his purse, and
holding it airily and uncompressd, looks round him, as if he sought
for an object to share it withIn doing this, I felt every vessel in my
frame dilatethe arteries beat all chearily together, and every power
which sustained life, performd it with so little friction, that twould
have confounded the most physical precieuse in France: with all her
materialism, she could scarce have called me a machine
Im confident, said I to myself, I should have overset her creed.
The accession of that idea, carried nature, at that time, as high as
she could goI was at peace with the world before, and this finishd
the treaty with myself
Now, was I a King of France, cried Iwhat a moment for an
orphan to have beggd his fathers portmanteau of me!
THE MONK.
CALAI S.
I
HAD scarce utterd the words, when a poor monk of the order of
St. Francis came into the room to beg something for his convent.
No man cares to have his virtues the sport of contingenciesor one
man may be generous, as another man is puissantsed non, quo ad
VOL. I 593
hancor be it as it mayfor there is no regular reasoning upon the
ebbs and flows of our humours; they may depend upon the same
causes, for ought I know, which influence the tides themselvestwould
oft be no discredit to us, to suppose it was so: Im sure at least for
myself, that in many a case I should be more highly satisfied, to have
it said by the world, I had had an affair with the moon, in which
there was neither sin nor shame, than have it pass altogether as my
own act and deed, wherein there was so much of both.
But be this as it may. The moment I cast my eyes upon him, I
was predetermined not to give him a single sous; and accordingly I
put my purse into my pocketbuttond it upset myself a little
more upon my centre, and advanced up gravely to him: there was
something, I fear, forbidding in my look: I have his figure this
moment before my eyes, and think there was that in it which
deserved better.
The monk, as I judged from the break in his tonsure, a few scat-
terd white hairs upon his temples, being all that remained of it,
might be about seventybut from his eyes, and that sort of fire
which was in them, which seemed more temperd by courtesy than
years, could be no more than sixtyTruth might lie betweenHe
was certainly sixty-five; and the general air of his countenance, not-
withstanding something seemd to have been planting wrinkles in it
before their time, agreed to the account.
It was one of those heads, which Guido has often paintedmild,
palepenetrating, free from all common-place ideas of fat con-
tented ignorance looking downwards upon the earthit lookd for-
wards; but lookd, as if it lookd at something beyond this world.
How one of his order came by it, heaven above, who let it fall upon a
monks shoulders, best knows: but it would have suited a Bramin,
and had I met it upon the plains of Indostan, I had reverenced it.
The rest of his outline may be given in a few strokes; one might
put it into the hands of any one to design, for twas neither elegant or
otherwise, but as character and expression made it so: it was a thin,
spare form, something above the common size, if it lost not the
distinction by a bend forwards in the figurebut it was the attitude
of Intreaty; and as it now stands presented to my imagination, it
gaind more than it lost by it.
When he had enterd the room three paces, he stood still; and
laying his left hand upon his breast, (a slender white staff with which
594 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
he journeyd being in his right)when I had got close up to him, he
introduced himself with the little story of the wants of his convent,
and the poverty of his orderand did it with so simple a graceand
such an air of deprecation was there in the whole cast of his look and
figureI was bewitchd not to have been struck with it
A better reason was, I had predetermined not to give him a
single sous.
THE MONK.
CALAI S.

T
IS very true, said I, replying to a cast upwards with his eyes,
with which he had concluded his addresstis very true
and heaven be their resource who have no other but the charity of the
world, the stock of which, I fear, is no way sufficient for the many
great claims which are hourly made upon it.
As I pronounced the words great claims, he gave a slight glance
with his eye downwards upon the sleeve of his tunickI felt the full
force of the appealI acknowledge it, said Ia coarse habit, and
that but once in three years, with meagre dietare no great matters;
and the true point of pity is, as they can be earnd in the world with
so little industry, that your order should wish to procure them by
pressing upon a fund which is the property of the lame, the blind,
the aged and the infirmthe captive who lies down counting over
and over again the days of his afflictions, languishes also for his share
of it; and had you been of the order of mercy, instead of the order of
St. Francis, poor as I am, continued I, pointing at my portmanteau,
full chearfully should it have been opend to you, for the ransom of
the unfortunateThe monk made me a bowbut of all others,
resumed I, the unfortunate of our own country, surely, have the first
rights; and I have left thousands in distress upon our own shore
The monk gave a cordial wave with his headas much as to say, No
doubt, there is misery enough in every corner of the world, as well as
within our conventBut we distinguish, said I, laying my hand
upon the sleeve of his tunick, in return for his appealwe dis-
tinguish, my good Father! betwixt those who wish only to eat the
bread of their own labourand those who eat the bread of other
peoples, and have no other plan in life, but to get through it in sloth
and ignorance, for the love of God.
VOL. I 595
The poor Franciscan made no reply: a hectic of a moment passd
across his cheek, but could not tarryNature seemed to have had
done with her resentments in him; he shewed nonebut letting his
staff fall within his arm, he pressd both his hands with resignation
upon his breast, and retired.
THE MONK.
CALAI S.
M
Y heart smote me the moment he shut the doorPsha! said I
with an air of carelessness, three several timesbut it would not
do: every ungracious syllable I had utterd, crouded back into my
imagination: I reflected, I had no right over the poor Franciscan, but
to deny him; and that the punishment of that was enough to the dis-
appointed without the addition of unkind languageI considerd his
grey hairshis courteous figure seemd to re-enter and gently ask me
what injury he had done me?and why I could use him thusI
would have given twenty livres for an advocateI have behaved very
ill; said I within myself; but I have only just set out upon my travels;
and shall learn better manners as I get along.
THE DESOBLIGEANT.
CALAI S.
W
HEN a man is discontented with himself, it has one advantage
however, that it puts him into an excellent frame of mind for
making a bargain. Now there being no travelling through France and
Italy without a chaiseand nature generally prompting us to the
thing we are fittest for, I walkd out into the coach yard to buy or
hire something of that kind to my purpose: an old *Desobligeant in
the furthest corner of the court, hit my fancy at first sight, so I
instantly got into it, and finding it in tolerable harmony with my
feelings, I ordered the waiter to call Monsieur Dessein the master
of the htelbut Monsieur Dessein being gone to vespers, and not
caring to face the Franciscan whom I saw on the opposite side of
* A chaise, so called in France, from its holding but one person.
596 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
the court, in conference with a lady just arrived, at the innI drew
the taffeta curtain betwixt us, and being determined to write my
journey, I took out my pen and ink, and wrote the preface to it in
the Desobligeant.
PREFACE
IN THE DESOBLIGEANT.
I
T must have been observed by many a peripatetic philosopher,
That nature has set up by her own unquestionable authority certain
boundaries and fences to circumscribe the discontent of man: she
has effected her purpose in the quietest and easiest manner by laying
him under almost insuperable obligations to work out his ease, and to
sustain his sufferings at home. It is there only that she has provided
him with the most suitable objects to partake of his happiness, and
bear a part of that burden which in all countries and ages, has ever
been too heavy for one pair of shoulders. Tis true we are endued
with an imperfect power of spreading our happiness sometimes
beyond her limits, but tis so ordered, that from the want of lan-
guages, connections, and dependencies, and from the difference in
education, customs and habits, we lie under so many impediments in
communicating our sensations out of our own sphere, as often
amount to a total impossibility.
It will always follow from hence, that the balance of sentimental
commerce is always against the expatriated adventurer: he must
buy what he has little occasion for at their own pricehis conver-
sation will seldom be taken in exchange for theirs without a large
discountand this, by the by, eternally driving him into the
hands of more equitable brokers for such conversation as he can
find, it requires no great spirit of divination to guess at his
party
This brings me to my point; and naturally leads me (if the see-saw
of this Desobligeant will but let me get on) into the efficient as well as
the final causes of travelling
Your idle people that leave their native country and go abroad for
some reason or reasons which may be derived from one of these
general causes
VOL. I 595
Infirmity of body,
Imbecility of mind, or
Inevitable necessity.
The first two include all those who travel by land or by water, labour-
ing with pride, curiosity, vanity or spleen, subdivided and combined
in infinitum.
The third class includes the whole army of peregrine martyrs;
more especially those travellers who set out upon their travels with
the benefit of the clergy, either as delinquents travelling under the
direction of governors recommended by the magistrateor young
gentlemen transported by the cruelty of parents and guardians, and
travelling under the direction of governors recommended by
Oxford, Aberdeen and Glasgow.
There is a fourth class, but their number is so small that they
would not deserve a distinction, was it not necessary in a work of this
nature to observe the greatest precision and nicety, to avoid a confu-
sion of character. And these men I speak of, are such as cross the seas
and sojourn in a land of strangers with a view of saving money for
various reasons and upon various pretences: but as they might also
save themselves and others a great deal of unnecessary trouble by
saving their money at homeand as their reasons for travelling are
the least complex of any other species of emigrants, I shall dis-
tinguish these gentlemen by the name of
Simple Travellers.
Thus the whole circle of travellers may be reduced to the follow-
ing Heads.
Idle Travellers,
Inquisitive Travellers,
Lying Travellers,
Proud Travellers,
Vain Travellers,
Splenetic Travellers.
Then follow the Travellers of Necessity.
The delinquent and felonious Traveller,
The unfortunate and innocent Traveller,
The simple Traveller,
And last of all (if you please) The
598 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
Sentimental Traveller (meaning thereby myself) who have travelld,
and of which I am now sitting down to give an accountas much out
of Necessity, and the besoin de Voyager, as any one in the class.
I am well aware, at the same time, as both my travels and observa-
tions will be altogether of a different cast from any of my fore-
runners; that I might have insisted upon a whole nitch entirely to
myselfbut I should break in upon the confines of the Vain Travel-
ler, in wishing to draw attention towards me, till I have some better
grounds for it, than the mere Novelty of my Vehicle.
It is sufficient for my reader, if he has been a traveller himself, that
with study and reflection hereupon he may be able to determine his
own place and rank in the catalogueit will be one step towards
knowing himself; as it is great odds, but he retains some tincture and
resemblance, of what he imbibed or carried out, to the present hour.
The man who first transplanted the grape of Burgundy to the
Cape of Good Hope (observe he was a Dutch man) never dreamt of
drinking the same wine at the Cape, that the same grape produced
upon the French mountainshe was too phlegmatic for thatbut
undoubtedly he expected to drink some sort of vinous liquor; but
whether good, bad, or indifferenthe knew enough of this world to
know, that it did not depend upon his choice, but that what is gener-
ally called chance was to decide his success: however, he hoped for
the best; and in these hopes, by an intemperate confidence in the
fortitude of his head, and the depth of his discretion, Mynheer might
possibly overset both in his new vineyard; and by discovering his
nakedness, become a laughing-stock to his people.
Even so it fares with the poor Traveller, sailing and posting
through the politer kingdoms of the globe in pursuit of knowledge
and improvements.
Knowledge and improvements are to be got by sailing and posting
for that purpose; but whether useful knowledge and real improve-
ments, is all a lotteryand even where the adventurer is successful,
the acquired stock must be used with caution and sobriety to turn to
any profitbut as the chances run prodigiously the other way both
as to the acquisition and application, I am of opinion, That a man
would act as wisely, if he could prevail upon himself, to live con-
tented without foreign knowledge or foreign improvements, espe-
cially if he lives in a country that has no absolute want of eitherand
VOL. I 599
indeed, much grief of heart has it oft and many a time cost me, when
I have observed how many a foul step the inquisitive Traveller has
measured to see sights and look into discoveries; all which, as Sancho
Pana said to Don Quixote, they might have seen dry-shod at home.
It is an age so full of light, that there is scarce a country or corner of
Europe whose beams are not crossed and interchanged with
othersKnowledge in most of its branches, and in most affairs, is
like music in an Italian street, whereof those may partake, who pay
nothingBut there is no nation under heavenand God is my
record, (before whose tribunal I must one day come and give an
account of this work)that I do not speak it vauntinglyBut there
is no nation under heaven abounding with more variety of learn-
ingwhere the sciences may be more fitly wood, or more surely
won than herewhere art is encouraged, and will so soon rise
highwhere Nature (take her all together) has so little to answer
forand, to close all, where there is more wit and variety of char-
acter to feed the mind withWhere then, my dear countrymen, are
you going
We are only looking at this chaise, said theyYour most obedi-
ent servant, said I, skipping out of it, and pulling off my hatWe
were wondering, said one of them, who, I found, was an inquisitive
travellerwhat could occasion its motion.Twas the agitation,
said I coolly, of writing a prefaceI never heard, said the other, who
was a simple traveller, of a preface wrote in a Desobligeant.It would
have been better, said I, in a Vis a Vis.
As an English man does not travel to see English men, I retired
to my room.
CALAI S.
I
Perceived that something darkend the passage more than myself,
as I steppd along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein,
the master of the htel, who had just returnd from vespers, and,
with his hat under his arm, was most complaisantly following me, to
put me in mind of my wants. I had wrote myself pretty well out of
conceit with the Desobligeant; and Mons. Dessein speaking of it, with
a shrug, as if it would no way suit me, it immediately struck my
600 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
fancy that it belongd to some innocent traveller, who, on his return
home, had left it to Mons. Desseins honour to make the most of.
Four months had elapsed since it had finishd its career of Europe in
the corner of Mons. Desseins coach-yard; and having sallied out
from thence but a vampt-up business at the first, though it had been
twice taken to pieces on Mount Sennis, it had not profited much by
its adventuresbut by none so little as the standing so many months
unpitied in the corner of Mons. Desseins coach-yard. Much indeed
was not to be said for itbut something mightand when a few
words will rescue misery out of her distress, I hate the man who can
be a churl of them.
Now was I the master of this htel, said I, laying the point of
my fore-finger on Mons. Desseins breast, I would inevitably make a
point of getting rid of this unfortunate Desobligeantit stands
swinging reproaches at you every time you pass by it
Mon Dieu! said Mons. DesseinI have no interestExcept the
interest, said I, which men of a certain turn of mind take, Mons.
Dessein, in their own sensationsIm persuaded, to a man who feels
for others as well as for himself, every rainy night, disguise it as you
will, must cast a damp upon your spiritsYou suffer, Mons. Des-
sein, as much as the machine
I have always observed, when there is as much sour as sweet in a
compliment, that an Englishman is eternally at a loss within himself,
whether to take it, or let it alone: a Frenchman never is: Mons.
Dessein made me a bow.
Cest bien vrai, said heBut in this case I should only exchange
one disquietude for another, and with loss: figure to yourself, my
dear Sir, that in giving you a chaise which would fall to pieces before
you had got half way to Parisfigure to yourself how much I should
suffer, in giving an ill impression of myself to a man of honour, and
lying at the mercy, as I must do, dun homme desprit.
The dose was made up exactly after my own prescription; so I
could not help taking itand returning Mons. Dessein his bow,
without more casuistry we walkd together towards his Remise, to
take a view of his magazine of chaises.
VOL. I 60
I N THE STREET.
CALAI S.
I
T must needs be a hostile kind of a world, when the buyer (if it be
but of a sorry post-chaise) cannot go forth with the seller thereof
into the street to terminate the difference betwixt them, but he instantly
falls into the same frame of mind and views his conventionist with
the same sort of eye, as if he was going along with him to Hyde-park
corner to fight a duel. For my own part, being but a poor swords-
man, and no way a match for Monsieur Dessein, I felt the rotation of
all the movements within me, to which the situation is incidentI
looked at Monsieur Dessein through and througheyd him as he
walked along in profilethen, en facethought he lookd like a
Jewthen a Turkdisliked his wigcursed him by my gods
wished him at the devil
And is all this to be lighted up in the heart for a beggarly
account of three or four louisdors, which is the most I can be over-
reachd in?Base passion! said I, turning myself about, as a man
naturally does upon a sudden reverse of sentimentbase, ungentle
passion! thy hand is against every man, and every mans hand against
theeheaven forbid! said she, raising her hand up to her forehead,
for I had turned full in front upon the lady whom I had seen in
conference with the monkshe had followed us unperceived
Heaven forbid indeed! said I, offering her my ownshe had a black
pair of silk gloves open only at the thumb and two fore-fingers, so
accepted it without reserveand I led her up to the door of the
Remise.
Monsieur Dessein had diabled the key above fifty times before he
found out he had come with a wrong one in his hand: we were as
impatient as himself to have it opend; and so attentive to the obs-
tacle, that I continued holding her hand almost without knowing it;
so that Monsieur Dessein left us together with her hand in mine, and
with our faces turned towards the door of the Remise, and said he
would be back in five minutes.
Now a colloquy of five minutes, in such a situation, is worth one
of as many ages, with your faces turned towards the street: in the
latter case, tis drawn from the objects and occurrences without
when your eyes are fixed upon a dead blankyou draw purely from
602 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
yourselves. A silence of a single moment upon Monsieur Desseins
leaving us, had been fatal to the situationshe had infallibly turned
aboutso I began the conversation instantly.
But what were the temptations, (as I write not to apologize for
the weaknesses of my heart in this tour,but to give an account of
them)shall be described with the same simplicity, with which I felt
them.
THE REMI SE DOOR.
CALAI S.
W
HEN I told the reader that I did not care to get out of the Des-
obligeant, because I saw the monk in close conference with a
lady just arrived at the innI told him the truth; but I did not tell him
the whole truth; for I was full as much restrained by the appearance
and figure of the lady he was talking to. Suspicion crossed my brain,
and said, he was telling her what had passed: something jarred upon it
within meI wished him at his convent.
When the heart flies out before the understanding, it saves the
judgment a world of painsI was certain she was of a better order of
beingshowever, I thought no more of her, but went on and wrote
my preface.
The impression returned, upon my encounter with her in the
street; a guarded frankness with which she gave me her hand,
shewed, I thought, her good education and her good sense; and as I
led her on, I felt a pleasurable ductility about her, which spread a
calmness over all my spirits
Good God! how a man might lead such a creature as this round
the world with him!
I had not yet seen her facetwas not material; for the drawing
was instantly set about, and long before we had got to the door of the
Remise, Fancy had finished the whole head, and pleased herself as
much with its fitting her goddess, as if she had dived into the TIBER
for itbut thou art a seduced, and a seducing slut; and albeit thou
cheatest us seven times a day with thy pictures and images, yet with
so many charms dost thou do it, and thou deckest out thy pictures in
the shapes of so many angels of light, tis a shame to break with thee.
VOL. I 603
When we had got to the door of the Remise, she withdrew her
hand from across her forehead, and let me see the originalit was a
face of about six and twentyof a clear transparent brown, simply
set off without rouge or powderit was not critically handsome, but
there was that in it, which in the frame of mind I was in, attached me
much more to itit was interesting; I fancied it wore the characters
of a widowd look, and in that state of its declension, which had
passed the two first paroxysms of sorrow, and was quietly beginning
to reconcile itself to its lossbut a thousand other distresses might
have traced the same lines; I wishd to know what they had been
and was ready to enquire, (had the same bon ton of conversation
permitted, as in the days of Esdras)What aileth thee? and why art
thou disquieted? and why is thy understanding troubled?In a word,
I felt benevolence for her; and resolved some way or other to throw in
my mite of courtesyif not of service.
Such were my temptationsand in this disposition to give way to
them, was I left alone with the lady with her hand in mine, and with
our faces both turned closer to the door of the Remise than what was
absolutely necessary.
THE REMI SE DOOR.
CALAI S.
T
HIS certainly, fair lady! said I, raising her hand up a little lightly
as I began, must be one of Fortunes whimsical doings: to take two
utter strangers by their handsof different sexes, and perhaps
from different corners of the globe, and in one moment place
them together in such a cordial situation, as Friendship herself
could scarce have atchieved for them, had she projected it for a
month
And your reflection upon it, shews how much, Monsieur, she
has embarrassed you by the adventure.
When the situation is, what we would wish, nothing is so ill-timed
as to hint at the circumstances which make it so: you thank Fortune,
continued sheyou had reasonthe heart knew it, and was satis-
fied; and who but an English philosopher would have sent notices of
it to the brain to reverse the judgment?
604 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
In saying this, she disengaged her hand with a look which I
thought a sufficient commentary upon the text.
It is a miserable picture which I am going to give of the weakness
of my heart, by owning, that it suffered a pain, which worthier
occasions could not have inflicted.I was mortified with the loss of
her hand, and the manner in which I had lost it carried neither oil
nor wine to the wound: I never felt the pain of a sheepish inferiority
so miserably in my life.
The triumphs of a true feminine heart are short upon these dis-
comfitures. In a very few seconds she laid her hand upon the cuff of
my coat, in order to finish her reply; so some way or other, God
knows how, I regained my situation.
She had nothing to add.
I forthwith began to model a different conversation for the lady,
thinking from the spirit as well as moral of this, that I had been
mistaken in her character; but upon turning her face towards me, the
spirit which had animated the reply was fledthe muscles relaxed,
and I beheld the same unprotected look of distress which first won
me to her interestmelancholy! to see such sprightliness the prey of
sorrow.I pitied her from my soul; and though it may seem ridicu-
lous enough to a torpid heart,I could have taken her into my arms,
and cherished her, though it was in the open street, without
blushing.
The pulsations of the arteries along my fingers pressing across
hers, told her what was passing within me: she looked downa
silence of some moments followed.
I fear, in this interval, I must have made some slight efforts
towards a closer compression of her hand, from a subtle sensation I
felt in the palm of my ownnot as if she was going to withdraw
hersbut, as if she thought about itand I had infallibly lost it a
second time, had not instinct more than reason directed me to the
last resource in these dangersto hold it loosely, and in a manner as
if I was every moment going to release it, of myself; so she let it
continue, till Monsieur Dessein returned with the key; and in the
mean time I set myself to consider how I should undo the ill impres-
sions which the poor monks story, in case he had told it her, must
have planted in her breast against me.
VOL. I 605
THE SNUFF- BOX.
CALAI S.
T
HE good old monk was within six paces of us, as the idea of him
crossd my mind; and was advancing towards us a little out of the
line, as if uncertain whether he should break in upon us or no.He
stoppd, however, as soon as he came up to us, with a world of
frankness; and having a horn snuff-box in his hand, he presented it
open to meYou shall taste minesaid I, pulling out my box
(which was a small tortoise one) and putting it into his handTis
most excellent, said the monk; Then do me the favour, I replied, to
accept of the box and all, and when you take a pinch out of it,
sometimes recollect it was the peace-offering of a man who once
used you unkindly, but not from his heart.
The poor monk blushd as red as scarlet. Mon Dieu! said he,
pressing his hands togetheryou never used me unkindly.I
should think, said the lady, he is not likely. I blushd in my turn; but
from what movements, I leave to the few who feel to analyse
Excuse me, Madame, replied II treated him most unkindly; and
from no provocationsTis impossible, said the lady.My God!
cried the monk, with a warmth of asseveration which seemed not to
belong to himthe fault was in me, and in the indiscretion of my
zealthe lady opposed it, and I joined with her in maintaining it was
impossible, that a spirit so regulated as his, could give offence to any.
I knew not that contention could be rendered so sweet and pleas-
urable a thing to the nerves as I then felt it.We remained silent,
without any sensation of that foolish pain which takes place, when in
such a circle you look for ten minutes in one anothers faces without
saying a word. Whilst this lasted, the monk rubbd his horn box
upon the sleeve of his tunick; and as soon as it had acquired a little
air of brightness by the frictionhe made a low bow, and said, twas
too late to say whether it was the weakness or goodness of our tem-
pers which had involved us in this contestbut be it as it wouldhe
beggd we might exchange boxesIn saying this, he presented his to
me with one hand, as he took mine from me in the other; and having
kissd itwith a stream of good nature in his eyes he put it into his
bosomand took his leave.
I guard this box, as I would the instrumental parts of my religion,
606 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
to help my mind on to something better: in truth, I seldom go abroad
without it; and oft and many a time have I called up by it the courte-
ous spirit of its owner to regulate my own, in the justlings of the
world; they had found full employment for his, as I learnt from his
story, till about the forty-fifth year of his age, when upon some
military services ill requited, and meeting at the same time with a
disappointment in the tenderest of passions, he abandond the sword
and the sex together, and took sanctuary, not so much in his convent
as in himself.
I feel a damp upon my spirits, as I am going to add, that in my last
return through Calais, upon inquiring after Father Lorenzo, I heard
he had been dead near three months, and was buried, not in his
convent, but, according to his desire, in a little cimetiery belonging
to it, about two leagues off: I had a strong desire to see where they
had laid himwhen, upon pulling out his little horn box, as I sat by
his grave, and plucking up a nettle or two at the head of it, which had
no business to grow there, they all struck together so forcibly upon
my affections, that I burst into a flood of tearsbut I am as weak as a
woman; and I beg the world not to smile, but pity me.
THE REMI SE DOOR.
CALAI S.
I
HAD never quitted the ladys hand all this time; and had held it so
long, that it would have been indecent to have let it go, without first
pressing it to my lips: the blood and spirits, which had sufferd a
revulsion from her, crouded back to her, as I did it.
Now the two travellers who had spoke to me in the coach-yard,
happening at that crisis to be passing by, and observing our com-
munications, naturally took it into their heads that we must be man
and wife at least; so stopping as soon as they came up to the door of
the Remise, the one of them, who was the inquisitive traveller, askd
us, if we set out for Paris the next morning?I could only answer for
myself, I said; and the lady added, she was for Amiens.We dined
there yesterday, said the simple travellerYou go directly through
the town, added the other, in your road to Paris. I was going to return
a thousand thanks for the intelligence, that Amiens was in the road to
VOL. I 607
Paris; but, upon pulling out my poor monks little horn box to take
a pinch of snuffI made them a quiet bow, and wishing them a good
passage to Doverthey left us alone
Now where would be the harm, said I to myself, if I was to beg
of this distressed lady to accept of half of my chaise?and what
mighty mischief could ensue?
Every dirty passion, and bad propensity in my nature, took the
alarm, as I stated the propositionIt will oblige you to have a third
horse, said AVARICE, which will put twenty livres out of your
pocket.You know not who she is, said CAUTIONor what scrapes
the affair may draw you into, whisperd COWARDICE
Depend upon it, Yorick! said DISCRETION, twill be said you
went off with a mistress, and came by assignation to Calais for that
purpose
You can never after, cried HYPOCRISY aloud, shew your face in
the worldor rise, quoth MEANNESS, in the churchor be any
thing in it, said PRIDE, but a lousy prebendary.
But tis a civil thing, said Iand as I generally act from the first
impulse, and therefore seldom listen to these cabals, which serve no
purpose, that I know of, but to encompass the heart with adamantI
turnd instantly about to the lady
But she had glided off unperceived, as the cause was pleading,
and had made ten or a dozen paces down the street, by the time I had
made the determination; so I set off after her with a long stride, to
make her the proposal with the best address I was master of; but
observing she walkd with her cheek half resting upon the palm of
her handwith the slow, short-measurd step of thoughtfulness, and
with her eyes, as she went step by step, fixd upon the ground, it
struck me, she was trying the same cause herself.God help her!
said I, she has some mother-in-law, or tartufish aunt, or nonsensical
old woman, to consult upon the occasion, as well as myself: so not
caring to interrupt the processe, and deeming it more gallant to take
her at discretion than by surprize, I faced about, and took a short
turn or two before the door of the Remise, whilst she walkd musing
on one side.
608 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
I N THE STREET.
CALAI S.
H
AVING, on first sight of the lady, settled the affair in my fancy,
that she was of the better order of beingsand then laid it down
as a second axiom, as indisputable as the first, That she was a widow,
and wore a character of distressI went no further; I got ground
enough for the situation which pleased meand had she remained
close beside my elbow till midnight, I should have held true to my
system, and considered her only under that general idea.
She had scarce got twenty paces distant from me, ere something
within me called out for a more particular inquiryit brought on
the idea of a further separationI might possibly never see her
morethe heart is for saving what it can; and I wanted the traces
thro which my wishes might find their way to her, in case I should
never rejoin her myself: in a word, I wishd to know her nameher
familysher condition; and as I knew the place to which she was
going, I wanted to know from whence she came: but there was no
coming at all this intelligence: a hundred little delicacies stood in the
way. I formd a score different plansThere was no such thing as a
mans asking her directlythe thing was impossible.
A little French debonaire captain, who came dancing down the
street, shewed me, it was the easiest thing in the world; for popping
in betwixt us, just as the lady was returning back to the door of the
Remise, he introduced himself to my acquaintance, and before he
had well got announced, beggd I would do him the honour to pres-
ent him to the ladyI had not been presented myselfso turning
about to her, he did it just as well by asking her, if she had come from
Paris?No: she was going that rout, she said.Vous netez pas de
Londre?She was not, she replied.Then Madame must have
come thro Flanders.Apparamment vous etez Flammande? said the
French captain.The lady answered, she was.Peutetre, de Lisle?
added heShe said, she was not of Lisle.Nor Arras?nor Cam-
bray?nor Ghent?nor Brussels? She answered, she was of
Brussels.
He had had the honour, he said, to be at the bombardment of it
last warthat it was finely situated, pour celaand full of noblesse
when the Imperialists were driven out by the French (the lady made
VOL. I 609
a slight curtsy)so giving her an account of the affair, and of the
share he had had in ithe beggd the honour to know her nameso
made his bow.
Et Madame a son Mari ?said he, looking back when he had
made two stepsand without staying for an answerdanced down
the street.
Had I served seven years apprenticeship to good breeding, I could
not have done as much.
THE REMI SE.
CALAI S.
A
S the little French captain left us, Mons. Dessein came up with the
key of the Remise in his hand, and forthwith let us into his magazine
of chaises.
The first object which caught my eye, as Mons. Dessein opend
the door of the Remise, was another old tatterd Desobligeant: and
notwithstanding it was the exact picture of that which had hit my
fancy so much in the coach-yard but an hour beforethe very sight
of it stirrd up a disagreeable sensation within me now; and I thought
twas a churlish beast into whose heart the idea could first enter, to
construct such a machine; nor had I much more charity for the man
who could think of using it.
I observed the lady was as little taken with it as myself: so Mons.
Dessein led us on to a couple of chaises which stood abreast, telling
us as he recommended them, that they had been purchased by my
Lord A. and B. to go the grand tour, but had gone no further than
Paris, so were in all respects as good as newThey were too good
so I passd on to a third, which stood behind, and forthwith began to
chaffer for the priceBut twill scarce hold two, said I, opening the
door and getting inHave the goodness, Madam, said Mons. Des-
sein, offering his arm, to step inThe lady hesitated half a second,
and steppd in; and the waiter that moment beckoning to speak to
Mons. Dessein, he shut the door of the chaise upon us, and left us.
60 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
THE REMI SE.
CALAI S.
C
EST bien comique, tis very droll, said the lady smiling, from the
reflection that this was the second time we had been left together
by a parcel of nonsensical contingenciescest bien comique, said she
There wants nothing, said I, to make it so, but the comick use
which the gallantry of a Frenchman would put it toto make love
the first moment, and an offer of his person the second.
Tis their fort: replied the lady.
It is supposed so at leastand how it has come to pass, continued
I, I know not; but they have certainly got the credit of understanding
more of love, and making it better than any other nation upon earth:
but for my own part I think them errant bunglers, and in truth the
worst set of marksmen that ever tried Cupids patience.
To think of making love by sentiments!
I should as soon think of making a genteel suit of cloaths out of
remnants:and to do itpopat first sight by declarationis
submitting the offer and themselves with it, to be sifted, with all
their pours and contres, by an unheated mind.
The lady attended as if she expected I should go on.
Consider then, madam, continued I, laying my hand upon hers
That grave people hate Love for the names sake
That selfish people hate it for their own
Hypocrites for heavens
And that all of us both old and young, being ten times worse
frightend than hurt by the very reportWhat a want of knowledge
in this branch of commerce a man betrays, whoever lets the word
come out of his lips, till an hour or two at least after the time, that his
silence upon it becomes tormenting. A course of small, quiet atten-
tions, not so pointed as to alarmnor so vague as to be misunder-
stood,with now and then a look of kindness, and little or nothing
said upon itleaves Nature for your mistress, and she fashions it to
her mind.
Then I solemnly declare, said the lady, blushingyou have been
making love to me all this while.
VOL. I 6
THE REMI SE.
CALAI S.
M
ONSIEUR Dessein came back to let us out of the chaise, and
acquaint the lady, the Count de Lher brother was just arrived
at the hotel. Though I had infinite good will for the lady, I cannot say,
that I rejoiced in my heart at the eventand could not help telling
her sofor it is fatal to a proposal, Madam, said I, that I was going
to make you
You need not tell me what the proposal was, said she, laying her
hand upon both mine, as she interrupted me.A man, my good Sir,
has seldom an offer of kindness to make to a woman, but she has a
presentiment of it some moments before
Nature arms her with it, said I, for immediate preservationBut
I think, said she, looking in my face, I had no evil to apprehendand
to deal frankly with you, had determined to accept it.If I had
(she stopped a moment)I believe your good will would have drawn
a story from me, which would have made pity the only dangerous
thing in the journey.
In saying this, she suffered me to kiss her hand twice, and with a
look of sensibility mixed with a concern she got out of the chaise
and bid adieu.
I N THE STREET.
CALAI S.
I
NEVER finished a twelve-guinea bargain so expeditiously in my
life: my time seemed heavy upon the loss of the lady, and knowing
every moment of it would be as two, till I put myself into
motionI ordered post horses directly, and walked towards the
hotel.
Lord! said I, hearing the town clock strike four, and recollecting
that I had been little more than a single hour in Calais
What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within this
little span of life by him who interests his heart in every thing, and
who, having eyes to see, what time and chance are perpetually
62 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
holding out to him as he journeyeth on his way, misses nothing he
can fairly lay his hands on.
If this wont turn out somethinganother willno matter
tis an assay upon human natureI get my labour for my painstis
enoughthe pleasure of the experiment has kept my senses, and the
best part of my blood awake, and laid the gross to sleep.
I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, Tis
all barrenand so it is; and so is all the world to him who will not
cultivate the fruits it offers. I declare, said I, clapping my hands
chearily together, that was I in a desart, I would find out wherewith
in it to call forth my affectionsIf I could not do better, I would
fasten them upon some sweet myrtle, or seek some melancholy
cypress to connect myself toI would court their shade, and greet
them kindly for their protectionI would cut my name upon them,
and swear they were the loveliest trees throughout the desert: if their
leaves witherd, I would teach myself to mourn, and when they
rejoiced, I would rejoice along with them.
The learned SMELFUNGUS travelled from Boulogne to Paris
from Paris to Romeand so onbut he set out with the spleen and
jaundice, and every object he passd by was discoloured or dis-
tortedHe wrote an account of them, but twas nothing but the
account of his miserable feelings.
I met Smelfungus in the grand portico of the Pantheonhe was
just coming out of itTis nothing but a huge cock-pit*, said heI
wish you had said nothing worse of the Venus of Medicis, replied
Ifor in passing through Florence, I had heard he had fallen foul
upon the goddess, and used her worse than a common strumpet,
without the least provocation in nature.
I poppd upon Smelfungus again at Turin, in his return home;
and a sad tale of sorrowful adventures had he to tell, wherein he
spoke of moving accidents by flood and field, and of the cannibals
which each other eat: the Anthropophagihe had been flead alive,
and be-devild, and used worse than St. Bartholomew, at every stage
he had come at
Ill tell it, cried Smelfungus, to the world. You had better tell it,
said I, to your physician.
Mundungus, with an immense fortune, made the whole tour;
* Vide Ss Travels.
VOL. I 63
going on from Rome to Naplesfrom Naples to Venicefrom Ven-
ice to Viennato Dresden, to Berlin, without one generous connec-
tion or pleasurable anecdote to tell of; but he had travelld straight on
looking neither to his right hand or his left, lest Love or Pity should
seduce him out of his road.
Peace be to them! if it is to be found; but heaven itself, was it
possible to get there with such tempers, would want objects to give
itevery gentle spirit would come flying upon the wings of Love to
hail their arrivalNothing would the souls of Smelfungus and
Mundungus hear of, but fresh anthems of joy, fresh raptures of love,
and fresh congratulations of their common felicityI heartily pity
them: they have brought up no faculties for this work; and was the
happiest mansion in heaven to be allotted to Smelfungus and Mund-
ungus, they would be so far from being happy, that the souls of
Smelfungus and Mundungus would do penance there to all eternity.
MONTRI UL.
I
HAD once lost my portmanteau from behind my chaise, and twice
got out in the rain, and one of the times up to the knees in dirt, to
help the postilion to tie it on, without being able to find out what was
wantingNor was it till I got to Montriul, upon the landlords
asking me if I wanted not a servant, that it occurred to me, that that
was the very thing.
A servant! That I do most sadly, quoth IBecause, Monsieur,
said the landlord, there is a clever young fellow, who would be very
proud of the honour to serve an EnglishmanBut why an English
one, more than any other?They are so generous, said the land-
lordIll be shot if this is not a livre out of my pocket, quoth I to
myself, this very nightBut they have wherewithal to be so, Mon-
sieur, added heSet down one livre more for that, quoth IIt was
but last night, said the landlord, qu un my Lord Anglois presentoit un
ecu a la fille de chambreTant pis, pour Madlle Janatone, said I.
Now Janatone being the landlords daughter, and the landlord
supposing I was young in French, took the liberty to inform me, I
should not have said tant pisbut, tant mieux. Tant mieux, toujours,
Monsieur, said he, when there is any thing to be gottant pis, when
64 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
there is nothing. It comes to the same thing, said I. Pardonnez moi
said the landlord.
I cannot take a fitter opportunity to observe once for all, that tant
pis and tant mieux being two of the great hinges in French conversa-
tion, a stranger would do well to set himself right in the use of them,
before he gets to Paris.
A prompt French Marquis at our ambassadors table demanded
of Mr. H, if he was Hthe poet? No, said Hmildly
Tant pis, replied the Marquis.
It is Hthe historian, said anotherTant mieux, said the Mar-
quis. And Mr. H, who is a man of an excellent heart, returnd
thanks for both.
When the landlord had set me right in this matter, he called in La
Fleur, which was the name of the young man he had spoke of
saying only first, That as for his talents, he would presume to say
nothingMonsieur was the best judge what would suit him; but for
the fidelity of La Fleur, he would stand responsible in all he was
worth.
The landlord deliverd this in a manner which instantly set my
mind to the business I was uponand La Fleur, who stood waiting
without, in that breathless expectation which every son of nature of
us have felt in our turns, came in.
MONTRI UL.
I
AM apt to be taken with all kinds of people at first sight; but never
more so, than when a poor devil comes to offer his service to so
poor a devil as myself; and as I know this weakness, I always suffer my
judgment to draw back something on that very accountand this
more or less, according to the mood I am in, and the caseand I may
add the gender too, of the person I am to govern.
When La Fleur enterd the room, after every discount I could
make for my soul, the genuine look and air of the fellow determined
the matter at once in his favour; so I hired him firstand then began
to inquire what he could do: But I shall find out his talents, quoth I,
as I want thembesides, a Frenchman can do every thing.
Now poor La Fleur could do nothing in the world but beat a
VOL. I 65
drum, and play a march or two upon the fife. I was determined to
make his talents do; and cant say my weakness was ever so insulted
by my wisdom, as in the attempt.
La Fleur had set out early in life, as gallantly as most Frenchmen
do, with serving for a few years; at the end of which, having satisfied
the sentiment, and found moreover, That the honour of beating a
drum was likely to be its own reward, as it opend no further track of
glory to himhe retired a ses terres, and lived comme il plaisoit a
Dieuthat is to say, upon nothing.
And so, quoth Wisdome, you have hired a drummer to attend
you in this tour of yours thro France and Italy! Psha! said I, and do
not one half of our gentry go with a hum-drum compagnon du voiage
the same round, and have the piper and the devil and all to pay
besides? When man can extricate himself with an equivoque in such
an unequal matchhe is not ill offBut you can do something else,
La Fleur? said IO quoui !he could make spatterdashes, and
play a little upon the fiddleBravo! said WisdomeWhy, I play a
bass myself, said Iwe shall do very well.You can shave, and dress
a wig a little, La Fleur?He had all the dispositions in the worldIt
is enough for heaven! said I, interrupting himand ought to be
enough for meSo supper coming in, and having a frisky English
spaniel on one side of my chair, and a French valet, with as much
hilarity in his countenance as ever nature painted in one, on the
otherI was satisfied to my hearts content with my empire; and if
monarchs knew what they would be at, they might be as satisfied as I
was.
MONTRI UL.
A
S La Fleur went the whole tour of France and Italy with me, and
will be often upon the stage, I must interest the reader a little
further in his behalf, by saying, that I had never less reason to repent
of the impulses which generally do determine me, than in regard to this
fellowhe was a faithful, affectionate, simple soul as ever trudged
after the heels of a philosopher; and notwithstanding his talents of
drum-beating and spatterdash-making, which, tho very good in
themselves, happend to be of no great service to me, yet was I
66 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
hourly recompenced by the festivity of his temperit supplied all
defectsI had a constant resource in his looks in all difficulties and
distresses of my ownI was going to have added, of his too; but La
Fleur was out of the reach of every thing; for whether twas hunger
or thirst, or cold or nakedness, or watchings, or whatever stripes of
ill luck La Fleur met with in our journeyings, there was no index in
his physiognomy to point them out byhe was eternally the same;
so that if I am a piece of a philosopher, which Satan now and then
puts it into my head I amit always mortifies the pride of the
conceit, by reflecting how much I owe to the complexional phil-
osophy of this poor fellow, for shaming me into one of a better kind.
With all this, La Fleur had a small cast of the coxcombbut he
seemed at first sight to be more a coxcomb of nature than of art; and
before I had been three days in Paris with himhe seemed to be no
coxcomb at all.
MONTRI UL.
T
HE next morning La Fleur entering upon his employment, I
delivered to him the key of my portmanteau with an inventory of
my half a dozen shirts and silk pair of breeches; and bid him fasten all
upon the chaiseget the horses put toand desire the landlord to
come in with his bill.
Cest un garon de bonne fortune, said the landlord, pointing
through the window to half a dozen wenches who had got round
about La Fleur, and were most kindly taking their leave of him, as
the postilion was leading out the horses. La Fleur kissed all their
hands round and round again, and thrice he wiped his eyes, and
thrice he promised he would bring them all pardons from Rome.
The young fellow, said the landlord, is beloved by all the town,
and there is scarce a corner in Montriul where the want of him will
not be felt: he has but one misfortune in the world, continued he,
He is always in love.I am heartily glad of it, said I,twill save
me the trouble every night of putting my breeches under my head.
In saying this, I was making not so much La Fleurs eloge, as my
own, having been in love with one princess or another almost all my
life, and I hope I shall go on so, till I die, being firmly persuaded, that
VOL. I 67
if ever I do a mean action, it must be in some interval betwixt one
passion and another: whilst this interregnum lasts, I always perceive
my heart locked upI can scarce find in it, to give Misery a six-
pence; and therefore I always get out of it as fast as I can, and the
moment I am rekindled, I am all generosity and good will again; and
would do any thing in the world either for, or with any one, if they
will but satisfy me there is no sin in it.
But in saying thissurely I am commending the passionnot
myself.
A FRAGMENT.
THE town of Abdera, notwithstanding Democritus lived there
trying all the powers of irony and laughter to reclaim it, was the
vilest and most profligate town in all Thrace. What for poisons,
conspiracies and assassinationslibels, pasquinades and tumults,
there was no going there by daytwas worse by night.
Now, when things were at the worst, it came to pass, that the
Andromeda of Euripides being represented at Abdera, the whole
orchestra was delighted with it: but of all the passages which
delighted them, nothing operated more upon their imaginations,
than the tender strokes of nature which the poet had wrought up in
that pathetic speech of Perseus,
O Cupid, prince of God and men, &c.
Every man almost spoke pure iambics the next day, and talkd of
nothing but Perseus his pathetic addressO Cupid! prince of God
and menin every street of Abdera, in every houseO Cupid!
Cupid!in every mouth, like the natural notes of some sweet mel-
ody which drops from it whether it will or nonothing but Cupid!
Cupid! prince of God and menThe fire caughtand the whole
city, like the heart of one man, opend itself to Love.
No pharmacopolist could sell one grain of heleborenot a single
armourer had a heart to forge one instrument of deathFriendship
and Virtue met together, and kissd each other in the streetthe
golden age returnd, and hung oer the town of Abderaevery
68 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
Abderite took his oaten pipe, and every Abderitish woman left her
purple web, and chastly sat her down and listend to the song
Twas only in the power, says the Fragment, of the God whose
empire extendeth from heaven to earth, and even to the depths of the
sea, to have done this.
MONTRI UL.
W
HEN all is ready, and every article is disputed and paid for in
the inn, unless you are a little sourd by the adventure, there is
always a matter to compound at the door, before you can get into your
chaise; and that is with the sons and daughters of poverty, who surround
you. Let no man say, let them go to the deviltis a cruel journey
to send a few miserables, and they have had sufferings enow without
it: I always think it better to take a few sous out in my hand; and I
would counsel every gentle traveller to do so likewise: he need not be
so exact in setting down his motives for giving themthey will be
registerd elsewhere.
For my own part, there is no man gives so little as I do; for few
that I know have so little to give: but as this was the first publick act
of my charity in France, I took the more notice of it.
A well-a-way! said I. I have but eight sous in the world, shewing
them in my hand, and there are eight poor men and eight poor
women for em.
A poor tatterd soul without a shirt on instantly withdrew his
claim, by retiring two steps out of the circle, and making a disqualify-
ing bow on his part. Had the whole parterre cried out, Place aux
dames, with one voice, it would not have conveyed the sentiment of a
deference for the sex with half the effect.
Just heaven! for what wise reasons hast thou orderd it, that beg-
gary and urbanity, which are at such variance in other countries,
should find a way to be at unity in this?
I insisted upon presenting him with a single sous, merely for his
politesse.
A poor little dwarfish brisk fellow, who stood over-against me in
the circle, putting something first under his arm, which had once
been a hat, took his snuff-box out of his pocket, and generously
VOL. I 69
offerd a pinch on both sides of him: it was a gift of consequence, and
modestly declinedThe poor little fellow pressd it upon them with
a nod of welcomenessPrenez enprenez, said he, looking another
way; so they each took a pinchPity thy box should ever want one!
said I to myself; so I put a couple of sous into ittaking a small
pinch out of his box, to enhance their value, as I did itHe felt the
weight of the second obligation more than that of the firsttwas
doing him an honourthe other was only doing him a charityand
he made me a bow down to the ground for it.
Here! said I to an old soldier with one hand, who had been
campaignd and worn out to death in the serviceheres a couple of
sous for theeVive le Roi ! said the old soldier.
I had then but three sous left: so I gave one, simply pour lamour de
Dieu, which was the footing on which it was beggdThe poor
woman had a dislocated hip; so it could not be well, upon any other
motive.
Mon cher et tres charitable MonsieurTheres no opposing this,
said I.
My Lord Angloisthe very sound was worth the moneyso I
gave my last sous for it. But in the eagerness of giving, I had over-
lookd a pauvre honteux, who had no one to ask a sous for him, and
who, I believed, would have perishd, ere he could have askd one for
himself: he stood by the chaise a little without the circle, and wiped a
tear from a face which I thought had seen better daysGood God!
said Iand I have not one single sous left to give himBut you have
a thousand! cried all the powers of nature, stirring within meso I
gave himno matter whatI am ashamed to say how much, now
and was ashamed to think, how little, then: so if the reader can form
any conjecture of my disposition, as these two fixed points are given
him, he may judge within a livre or two what was the precise sum.
I could afford nothing for the rest, but, Dieu vous benisseEt le bon
Dieu vous benisse encoresaid the old soldier, the dwarf, &c. The
pauvre honteux could say nothinghe pulld out a little hand-
kerchief, and wiped his face as he turned awayand I thought he
thankd me more than them all.
620 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
THE BI DET.
H
AVING settled all these little matters, I got into my post-chaise
with more ease than ever I got into a post-chaise in my life; and
La Fleur having got one large jack-boot on the far side of a little bidet*,
and another on this (for I count nothing of his legs)he canterd away
before me as happy and as perpendicular as a prince.
But what is happiness! what is grandeur in this painted scene of
life! A dead ass, before we had got a league, put a sudden stop to La
Fleurs careerhis bidet would not pass by ita contention arose
betwixt them, and the poor fellow was kickd out of his jack-boots
the very first kick.
La Fleur bore his fall like a French christian, saying neither more
or less upon it, than, Diable! so presently got up and came to the
charge again astride his bidet, beating him up to it as he would have
beat his drum.
The bidet flew from one side of the road to the other, then back
againthen this waythen that way, and in short every way but by
the dead ass.La Fleur insisted upon the thingand the bidet
threw him.
Whats the matter, La Fleur, said I, with this bidet of thine?
Monsieur, said he, cest un cheval le plus opinitre du monde
Nay, if he is a conceited beast, he must go his own way, replied Iso
La Fleur got off him, and giving him a good sound lash, the bidet
took me at my word, and away he scamperd back to Montriul.
Peste! said La Fleur.
It is not mal a propos to take notice here, that tho La Fleur availed
himself but of two different terms of exclamation in this
encounternamely, Diable! and Peste! that there are nevertheless
three, in the French language; like the positive, comparative, and
superlative, one or the other of which serve for every unexpected
throw of the dice in life.
Le Diable! which is the first, and positive degree, is generally used
upon ordinary emotions of the mind, where small things only fall out
contrary to your expectationssuch asthe throwing once
doubletsLa Fleurs being kickd off his horse, and so forth
cuckoldom, for the same reason, is alwaysLe Diable!
* Post horse.
VOL. I 62
But in cases where the cast has something provoking in it, as in
that of the bidets running away after, and leaving La Fleur aground
in jack-bootstis the second degree.
Tis then Peste!
And for the third
But here my heart is wrung with pity and fellow-feeling, when I
reflect what miseries must have been their lot, and how bitterly so
refined a people must have smarted, to have forced them upon the
use of it.
Grant me, O ye powers which touch the tongue with eloquence in
distress!whatever is my cast, Grant me but decent words to
exclaim in, and I will give my nature way.
But as these were not to be had in France, I resolved to take
every evil just as it befell me without any exclamation at all.
La Fleur, who had made no such covenant with himself, followed
the bidet with his eyes till it was got out of sightand then, you may
imagine, if you please, with what word he closed the whole affair.
As there was no hunting down a frightend horse in jack-boots,
there remained no alternative but taking La Fleur either behind the
chaise, or into it.
I preferred the latter, and in half an hour we got to the post-house
at Nampont.
NAMPONT.
THE DEAD ASS.

A
ND this, said he, putting the remains of a crust into his
walletand this, should have been thy portion, said he, hadst
thou been alive to have shared it with me. I thought by the accent, it
had been an apostrophe to his child; but twas to his ass, and to the very
ass we had seen dead in the road, which had occasioned La Fleurs
misadventure. The man seemed to lament it much; and it instantly
brought into my mind Sanchos lamentation for his; but he did it
with more true touches of nature.
The mourner was sitting upon a stone bench at the door, with the
asss pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from time to
timethen laid them downlookd at them and shook his head. He
622 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
then took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; held
it some time in his handthen laid it upon the bit of his asss
bridlelooked wistfully at the little arrangement he had madeand
then gave a sigh.
The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur
amongst the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I continued
sitting in the post-chaise, I could see and hear over their heads.
He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from
the furthest borders of Franconia; and had got so far on his return
home, when his ass died. Every one seemd desirous to know what
business could have taken so old and poor a man so far a journey
from his own home.
It had pleased heaven, he said, to bless him with three sons, the
finest lads in all Germany; but having in one week lost two of the
eldest of them by the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of
the same distemper, he was afraid of being bereft of them all; and
made a vow, if Heaven would not take him from him also, he would
go in gratitude to St. Iago in Spain.
When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stoppd to pay
nature her tributeand wept bitterly.
He said, Heaven had accepted the conditions; and that he had set
out from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been a patient
partner of his journeythat it had eat the same bread with him all
the way, and was unto him as a friend.
Every body who stood about, heard the poor fellow with con-
cernLa Fleur offered him money.The mourner said, he did
not want itit was not the value of the assbut the loss of him.
The ass, he said, he was assured loved himand upon this told
them a long story of a mischance upon their passage over the
Pyrenean mountains which had separated them from each other
three days; during which time the ass had sought him as much as he
had sought the ass, and that they had neither scarce eat or drank till
they met.
Thou hast one comfort, friend, said I, at least in the loss of thy
poor beast; Im sure thou hast been a merciful master to him.Alas!
said the mourner, I thought so, when he was alivebut now that he
is dead I think otherwise.I fear the weight of myself and my afflic-
tions together have been too much for himthey have shortened the
poor creatures days, and I fear I have them to answer for.Shame
VOL. I 623
on the world! said I to myselfDid we love each other, as this poor
soul but loved his asstwould be something.
NAMPONT.
THE POSTI LLION.
T
HE concern which the poor fellows story threw me into, required
some attention: the postillion paid not the least to it, but set off
upon the pav in a full gallop.
The thirstiest soul in the most sandy desert of Arabia could not
have wished more for a cup of cold water, than mine did for grave
and quiet movements; and I should have had an high opinion of the
postillion had he but stolen off with me in something like a pensive
pace.On the contrary, as the mourner finished his lamentation, the
fellow gave an unfeeling lash to each of his beasts, and set off clatter-
ing like a thousand devils.
I called to him as loud as I could, for heavens sake to go slower
and the louder I called the more unmercifully he galloped.The
deuce take him and his galloping toosaid Ihell go on tearing my
nerves to pieces till he has worked me into a foolish passion, and then
hell go slow, that I may enjoy the sweets of it.
The postillion managed the point to a miracle: by the time he had
got to the foot of a steep hill about half a league from Nampont,he
had put me out of temper with himand then with myself, for being
so.
My case then required a different treatment; and a good rattling
gallop would have been of real service to me.
Then, prithee get onget on, my good lad, said I.
The postillion pointed to the hillI then tried to return back to
the story of the poor German and his assbut I had broke the
clueand could no more get into it again, than the postillion could
into a trot.
The deuce go, said I, with it all ! Here am I sitting as candidly
disposed to make the best of the worst, as ever wight was, and all
runs counter.
There is one sweet lenitive at least for evils, which nature holds
out to us; so I took it kindly at her hands, and fell asleep; and the first
word which roused me was Amiens.
624 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
Bless me! said I, rubbing my eyesthis is the very town where
my poor lady is to come.
AMI ENS.
T
HE words were scarce out of my mouth, when the Count de L * * *s
post-chaise, with his sister in it, drove hastily by: she had just time
to make me a bow of recognitionand of that particular kind of it,
which told me she had not yet done with me. She was as good as her
look; for, before I had quite finished my supper, her brothers servant
came into the room with a billet, in which she said, she had taken the
liberty to charge me with a letter, which I was to present myself to
Madame R * * * the first morning I had nothing to do at Paris. There
was only added, she was sorry, but from what penchant she had not
considered, that she had been prevented telling me her storythat
she still owed it me; and if my rout should ever lay through Brussels,
and I had not by then forgot the name of Madame de L * * *that
Madame de L * * * would be glad to discharge her obligation.
Then I will meet thee, said I, fair spirit! at Brusselstis only
returning from Italy through Germany to Holland, by the rout of
Flanders, hometwill scarce be ten posts out of my way; but were
it ten thousand! with what a moral delight will it crown my journey,
in sharing in the sickening incidents of a tale of misery told to me by
such a sufferer? to see her weep! and though I cannot dry up the
fountain of her tears, what an exquisite sensation is there still left, in
wiping them away from off the cheeks of the first and fairest of
women, as Im sitting with my handkerchief in my hand in silence
the whole night besides her.
There was nothing wrong in the sentiment; and yet I instantly
reproached my heart with it in the bitterest and most reprobate of
expressions.
It had ever, as I told the reader, been one of the singular blessings
of my life, to be almost every hour of it miserably in love with some
one; and my last flame happening to be blown out by a whiff of
jealousy on the sudden turn of a corner, I had lighted it up afresh at
the pure taper of Eliza but about three months beforeswearing as I
did it, that it should last me through the whole journeyWhy
VOL. I 625
should I dissemble the matter? I had sworn to her eternal fidelity
she had a right to my whole heartto divide my affections was to
lessen themto expose them, was to risk them: where there is risk,
there may be lossand what wilt thou have, Yorick! to answer to a
heart so full of trust and confidenceso good, so gentle and
unreproaching?
I will not go to Brussels, replied I, interrupting myselfbut my
imagination went onI recalld her looks at that crisis of our separ-
ation when neither of us had power to say Adieu! I lookd at the
picture she had tied in a black ribband about my neckand blushd
as I lookd at itI would have given the world to have kissd it,but
was ashamedAnd shall this tender flower, said I, pressing it
between my handsshall it be smitten to its very rootand smitten,
Yorick! by thee, who hast promised to shelter it in thy breast?
Eternal fountain of happiness! said I, kneeling down upon the
groundbe thou my witnessand every pure spirit which tastes it,
be my witness also, That I would not travel to Brussels, unless Eliza
went along with me, did the road lead me towards heaven.
In transports of this kind, the heart, in spite of the understanding,
will always say too much.
THE LETTER.
AMI ENS.
F
ORTUNE had not smiled upon La Fleur; for he had been un-
successful in his feats of chivalryand not one thing had offerd
to signalize his zeal for my service from the time he had enterd into it,
which was almost four and twenty hours. The poor soul burnd with
impatience; and the Count de L * * *s servants coming with the let-
ter, being the first practicable occasion which offered, La Fleur had
laid hold of it; and in order to do honour to his master, had taken him
into a back parlour in the Auberge, and treated him with a cup or two
of the best wine in Picardy; and the Count de L * * *s servant in
return, and not to be behind hand in politeness with La Fleur, had
taken him back with him to the Counts htel. La Fleurs prevenancy
(for there was a passport in his very looks) soon set every servant in
the kitchen at ease with him; and as a Frenchman, whatever be his
626 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
talents, has no sort of prudery in shewing them, La Fleur, in less
than five minutes, had pulld out his fife, and leading off the dance
himself with the first note, set the fille de chambre, the maitre dhotel,
the cook, the scullion, and all the houshold, dogs and cats, besides
an old monkey, a-dancing: I suppose there never was a merrier
kitchen since the flood.
Madame de L * * *, in passing from her brothers apartments to her
own, hearing so much jollity below stairs, rung up her fille de chambre
to ask about it; and hearing it was the English gentlemans servant
who had set the whole house merry with his pipe, she orderd him
up.
As the poor fellow could not present himself empty, he had load-
end himself in going up stairs with a thousand compliments to
Madame de L * * *, on the part of his masteradded a long apoc-
rypha of inquiries after Madame de L * * *s healthtold her, that
Monsieur his master was au desespoire for her re-establishment from
the fatigues of her journeyand, to close all, that Monsieur had
received the letter which Madame had done him the honour
And he has done me the honour, said Madame de L * * *, interrupting
La Fleur, to send a billet in return.
Madame de L * * * had said this with such a tone of reliance upon
the fact, that La Fleur had not power to disappoint her expect-
ationshe trembled for my honourand possibly might not
altogether be unconcerned for his own, as a man capable of being
attachd to a master who could be a wanting en egards vis a vis dune
femme; so that when Madame de L * * * asked La Fleur if he had
brought a letterO quoui, said La Fleur: so laying down his hat
upon the ground, and taking hold of the flap of his right side pocket
with his left hand, he began to search for the letter with his right
then contrary-wiseDiable!then sought every pocketpocket by
pocket, round, not forgetting his fobPeste!then La Fleur emp-
tied them upon the floorpulled out a dirty cravata hand-
kerchiefa comba whip lasha night-capthen gave a peep
into his hatQuelle etourderie! He had left the letter upon the table
in the Aubergehe would run for it, and be back with it in three
minutes.
I had just finished my supper when La Fleur came in to give me
an account of his adventure: he told the whole story simply as it was;
and only added, that if Monsieur had forgot (par hazard) to answer
VOL. I 627
Madames letter, the arrangement gave him an opportunity to
recover the faux pasand if not, that things were only as they were.
Now I was not altogether sure of my etiquette, whether I ought to
have wrote or no; but if I hada devil himself could not have been
angry: twas but the officious zeal of a well-meaning creature for my
honour; and however he might have mistook the roador embar-
rassed me in so doinghis heart was in no faultI was under no
necessity to writeand what weighed more than allhe did not
look as if he had done amiss.
Tis all very well, La Fleur, said I.Twas sufficient. La Fleur
flew out of the room like lightening, and returnd with pen, ink, and
paper, in his hand; and coming up to the table, laid them close before
me, with such a delight in his countenance, that I could not help
taking up the pen.
I begun and begun again; and though I had nothing to say, and
that nothing might have been expressd in half a dozen lines, I made
half a dozen different beginnings, and could no way please myself.
In short, I was in no mood to write.
La Fleur steppd out and brought a little water in a glass to dilute
my inkthen fetchd sand and seal-waxIt was all one: I wrote,
and blotted, and tore off, and burnt, and wrote againLe Diable
lemporte! said I half to myselfI cannot write this self-same letter;
throwing the pen down despairingly as I said it.
As soon as I had cast down the pen, La Fleur advanced with the
most respectful carriage up to the table, and making a thousand
apologies for the liberty he was going to take, told me he had a letter
in his pocket wrote by a drummer in his regiment to a corporals
wife, which, he durst say, would suit the occasion.
I had a mind to let the poor fellow have his humourThen pri-
thee, said I, let me see it.
La Fleur instantly pulld out a little dirty pocket-book crammd
full of small letters and billet-doux in a sad condition, and laying it
upon the table, and then untying the string which held them all
together, run them over one by one, till he came to the letter in ques-
tionLa voila! said he, clapping his hands: so unfolding it first,
he laid it before me, and retired three steps from the table whilst I
read it.
628 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
THE LETTER.
MADAME,
J
E suis penetr de la douleur la plus vive, et reduit en mme temps
au desespoir par ce retour imprev du Corporal qui rend notre
entrevue de ce soir la chose du monde la plus impossible.
Mais vive la joie! et toute la mienne sera de penser a vous.
Lamour nest rien sans sentiment.
Et le sentiment est encore moins sans amour.
On dit quon ne doit jamais se desesperer.
On dit aussi que Monsieur le Corporal monte la garde Mercredi:
alors ce sera mon tour.
Chacun a son tour.
En attendantVive lamour! et vive la bagatelle!
Je suis, MADAME,
Avec toutes les sentiments les
plus respecteux et les plus
tendres tout a vous,
JAQUES ROQUE.
It was but changing the Corporal into the Countand saying
nothing about mounting guard on Wednesdayand the letter was
neither right or wrongso to gratify the poor fellow, who stood
trembling for my honour, his own, and the honour of his letter,I took
the cream gently off it, and whipping it up in my own wayI seald it
up and sent him with it to Madame de L * * *and the next morning
we pursued our journey to Paris.
PARI S.
W
HEN a man can contest the point by dint of equipage, and carry
all on floundering before him with half a dozen lackies and a
couple of cookstis very well in such a place as Parishe may drive
in at which end of a street he will.
A poor prince who is weak in cavalry, and whose whole infantry
does not exceed a single man, had best quit the field; and signalize
himself in the cabinet, if he can get up into itI say up into itfor
VOL. I 629
there is no descending perpendicular amongst em with a Me voici !
mes enfanshere I amwhatever many may think.
I own my first sensations, as soon as I was left solitary and alone in
my own chamber in the hotel, were far from being so flattering as I
had prefigured them. I walked up gravely to the window in my dusty
black coat, and looking through the glass saw all the world in yellow,
blue, and green, running at the ring of pleasure.The old with
broken lances, and in helmets which had lost their vizardsthe
young in armour bright which shone like gold, beplumed with each
gay feather of the eastallall tilting at it like fascinated knights in
tournaments of yore for fame and love.
Alas, poor Yorick! cried I, what art thou doing here? On the very
first onset of all this glittering clatter, thou art reduced to an atom
seekseek some winding alley, with a tourniquet at the end of it,
where chariot never rolled or flambeau shot its raysthere thou
mayest solace thy soul in converse sweet with some kind grisset of a
barbers wife, and get into such coteries!
May I perish! if I do, said I, pulling out the letter which I had to
present to Madame de R * * *.Ill wait upon this lady, the very first
thing I do. So I called La Fleur to go seek me a barber directlyand
come back and brush my coat.
THE WIG.
PARI S.
W
HEN the barber came, he absolutely refused to have any thing
to do with my wig: twas either above or below his art: I had
nothing to do, but to take one ready made of his own recommen-
dation.
But I fear, friend! said I, this buckle wont stand.You may
immerge it, replied he, into the ocean, and it will stand
What a great scale is every thing upon in this city! thought I
The utmost stretch of an English periwig-makers ideas could have
gone no further than to have dipped it into a pail of waterWhat
difference! tis like time to eternity.
I confess I do hate all cold conceptions, as I do the puny ideas
which engender them; and am generally so struck with the great
works of nature, that for my own part, if I could help it, I never
630 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
would make a comparison less than a mountain at least. All that can
be said against the French sublime in this instance of it, is thisthat
the grandeur is more in the word; and less in the thing. No doubt the
ocean fills the mind with vast ideas; but Paris being so far inland, it
was not likely I should run post a hundred miles out of it, to try the
experimentthe Parisian barber meant nothing.
The pail of water standing besides the great deep, makes certainly
but a sorry figure in speechbut twill be saidit has one advan-
tagetis in the next room, and the truth of the buckle may be tried
in it without more ado, in a single moment.
In honest truth, and upon a more candid revision of the matter,
The French expression professes more than it performs.
I think I can see the precise and distinguishing marks of national
characters more in these nonsensical minuti, than in the most
important matters of state; where great men of all nations talk and
stalk so much alike, that I would not give nine-pence to chuse
amongst them.
I was so long in getting from under my barbers hands, that it was
too late to think of going with my letter to Madame R * * * that night:
but when a man is once dressed at all points for going out, his
reflections turn to little account, so taking down the name of the
Hotel de Modene where I lodged, I walked forth without any
determination where to goI shall consider of that, said I, as I walk
along.
THE PULSE.
PARI S.
H
AIL ye small sweet courtesies of life, for smooth do ye make the
road of it! like grace and beauty which beget inclinations to love
at first sight; tis ye who open this door and let the stranger in.
Pray, Madame, said I, have the goodness to tell me which way I
must turn to go to the Opera comique:Most willingly, Monsieur,
said she, laying aside her work
I had given a cast with my eye into half a dozen shops as I came
along in search of a face not likely to be disordered by such an
interruption; till at last, this hitting my fancy, I had walked in.
VOL. I 63
She was working a pair of ruffles as she sat in a low chair on the far
side of the shop facing the door
Tres volentieres; most willingly, said she, laying her work down
upon a chair next her, and rising up from the low chair she was
sitting in, with so chearful a movement and so chearful a look, that
had I been laying out fifty louis dors with her, I should have said
This woman is grateful.
You must turn, Monsieur, said she, going with me to the door of
the shop, and pointing the way down the street I was to takeyou
must turn first to your left handmais prenez guardethere are two
turns; and be so good as to take the secondthen go down a little
way and youll see a church, and when you are past it, give yourself
the trouble to turn directly to the right, and that will lead you to the
foot of the pont neuf, which you must crossand there, any one will
do himself the pleasure to shew you
She repeated her instructions three times over to me with the
same good naturd patience the third time as the first;and if tones
and manners have a meaning, which certainly they have, unless to
hearts which shut them outshe seemd really interested, that I
should not lose myself.
I will not suppose it was the womans beauty, notwithstanding she
was the handsomest grisset, I think, I ever saw, which had much to
do with the sense I had of her courtesy; only I remember, when I told
her how much I was obliged to her, that I looked very full in her
eyes,and that I repeated my thanks as often as she had done her
instructions.
I had not got ten paces from the door, before I found I had forgot
every tittle of what she had saidso looking back, and seeing her
still standing in the door of the shop as if to look whether I went
right or notI returned back, to ask her whether the first turn was
to my right or leftfor that I had absolutely forgot.Is it possible!
said she, half laughing.Tis very possible, replied I, when a man is
thinking more of a woman, than of her good advice.
As this was the real truthshe took it, as every woman takes a
matter of right, with a slight courtesy.
Attendez! said she, laying her hand upon my arm to detain me,
whilst she called a lad out of the back-shop to get ready a parcel of
gloves. I am just going to send him, said she, with a packet into that
quarter, and if you will have the complaisance to step in, it will be
632 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
ready in a moment, and he shall attend you to the place.So I
walkd in with her to the far side of the shop, and taking up the ruffle
in my hand which she laid upon the chair, as if I had a mind to sit,
she sat down herself in her low chair, and I instantly sat myself down
besides her.
He will be ready, Monsieur, said she, in a momentAnd in that
moment, replied I, most willingly would I say something very civil to
you for all these courtesies. Any one may do a casual act of good
nature, but a continuation of them shews it is a part of the tempera-
ture; and certainly, added I, if it is the same blood which comes from
the heart, which descends to the extremes (touching her wrist) I am
sure you must have one of the best pulses of any woman in the
worldFeel it, said she, holding out her arm. So laying down my
hat, I took hold of her fingers in one hand, and applied the two fore-
fingers of my other to the artery
Would to heaven! my dear Eugenius, thou hadst passed by,
and beheld me sitting in my black coat, and in my lack-a-day-sical
manner, counting the throbs of it, one by one, with as much true
devotion as if I had been watching the critical ebb or flow of her
feverHow wouldst thou have laughd and moralized upon my
new profession?and thou shouldst have laughd and moralized
onTrust me, my dear Eugenius, I should have said, there are
worse occupations in this world than feeling a womans pulse.But
a Grissets! thou wouldst have saidand in an open shop!
Yorick
So much the better: for when my views are direct, Eugenius, I
care not if all the world saw me feel it.
THE HUSBAND.
PARI S.
I
HAD counted twenty pulsations, and was going on fast towards the
fortieth, when her husband coming unexpected from a back parlour
into the shop, put me a little out in my reckoningTwas no body
but her husband, she saidso I began a fresh scoreMonsieur is so
good, quoth she, as he passd by us, as to give himself the trouble of
feeling my pulseThe husband took off his hat, and making me a
VOL. I 633
bow, said, I did him too much honourand having said that, he put
on his hat and walkd out.
Good God! said I to myself, as he went outand can this man be
the husband of this woman?
Let it not torment the few who know what must have been the
grounds of this exclamation, if I explain it to those who do not.
In London a shopkeeper and a shopkeepers wife seem to be one
bone and one flesh: in the several endowments of mind and body,
sometimes the one, sometimes the other has it, so as in general to be
upon a par, and to tally with each other as nearly as man and wife
need to do.
In Paris, there are scarce two orders of beings more different: for
the legislative and executive powers of the shop not resting in the
husband, he seldom comes therein some dark and dismal room
behind, he sits commerceless in his thrum night-cap, the same rough
son of Nature that Nature left him.
The genius of a people where nothing but the monarchy is salique,
having ceded this department, with sundry others, totally to the
womenby a continual higgling with customers of all ranks and
sizes from morning to night, like so many rough pebbles shook long
together in a bag, by amicable collisions, they have worn down their
asperities and sharp angles, and not only become round and smooth,
but will receive, some of them, a polish like a brilliantMonsieur le
Mari is little better than the stone under your foot
Surelysurely man! it is not good for thee to sit alone
thou wast made for social intercourse and gentle greetings, and
this improvement of our natures from it, I appeal to, as my
evidence.
And how does it beat, Monsieur? said she.With all the benig-
nity, said I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expectedShe was
going to say something civil in returnbut the lad came into the
shop with the glovesA propos, said I; I want a couple of pair
myself.
634 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
THE GLOVES.
PARI S.
T
HE beautiful Grisset rose up when I said this, and going behind
the counter, reachd down a parcel and untied it: I advanced to the
side over-against her: they were all too large. The beautiful Grisset
measured them one by one across my handIt would not alter the
dimensionsShe beggd I would try a single pair, which seemed to
be the leastShe held it openmy hand slippd into it at onceIt
will not do, said I, shaking my head a littleNo, said she, doing the
same thing.
There are certain combined looks of simple subtletywhere
whim, and sense, and seriousness, and nonsense, are so blended, that
all the languages of Babel set loose together could not express
themthey are communicated and caught so instantaneously, that
you can scarce say which party is the infecter. I leave it to your men
of words to swell pages about itit is enough in the present to say
again, the gloves would not do; so folding our hands within our
arms, we both lolld upon the counterit was narrow, and there was
just room for the parcel to lay between us.
The beautiful Grisset lookd sometimes at the gloves, then side-
ways to the window, then at the glovesand then at me. I was not
disposed to break silenceI followd her example: so I lookd at the
gloves, then to the window, then at the gloves, and then at herand
so on alternately.
I found I lost considerably in every attackshe had a quick black
eye, and shot through two such long and silken eye-lashes with such
penetration, that she lookd into my very heart and reinsIt may
seem strange, but I could actually feel she did
It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me,
and putting them into my pocket.
I was sensible the beautiful Grisset had not askd above a single
livre above the priceI wishd she had askd a livre more, and was
puzzling my brains how to bring the matter aboutDo you think,
my dear Sir, said she, mistaking my embarrassment, that I could ask
a sous too much of a strangerand of a stranger whose politeness,
more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour to lay himself
at my mercy?Men croyez capable?Faith! not I, said I; and if you
VOL. I 635
were, you are welcomeSo counting the money into her hand, and
with a lower bow than one generally makes to a shopkeepers wife, I
went out, and her lad with his parcel followed me.
THE TRANSLATION.
PARI S.
T
HERE was no body in the box I was let into but a kindly old French
officer. I love the character, not only because I honour the man
whose manners are softened by a profession which makes bad men
worse; but that I once knew onefor he is no moreand why
should I not rescue one page from violation by writing his name in it,
and telling the world it was Captain Tobias Shandy, the dearest of
my flock and friends, whose philanthropy I never think of at this
long distance from his deathbut my eyes gush out with tears. For
his sake, I have a predilection for the whole corps of veterans; and so
I strode over the two back rows of benches, and placed myself beside
him.
The old officer was reading attentively a small pamphlet, it might
be the book of the opera, with a large pair of spectacles. As soon as
I sat down, he took his spectacles off, and putting them into a
shagreen case, returnd them and the book into his pocket together.
I half rose up, and made him a bow.
Translate this into any civilized language in the worldthe sense
is this:
Heres a poor stranger come in to the boxhe seems as if he
knew no body; and is never likely, was he to be seven years in Paris, if
every man he comes near keeps his spectacles upon his nosetis
shutting the door of conversation absolutely in his faceand using
him worse than a German.
The French officer might as well have said it all aloud; and if he
had, I should in course have put the bow I made him into French too,
and told him, I was sensible of his attention, and returnd him a
thousand thanks for it.
There is not a secret so aiding to the progress of sociality, as to get
master of this short hand, and be quick in rendering the several turns
of looks and limbs, with all their inflections and delineations, into
636 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
plain words. For my own part, by long habitude, I do it so mechanic-
ally, that when I walk the streets of London, I go translating all the
way; and have more than once stood behind in the circle, where not
three words have been said, and have brought off twenty different
dialogues with me, which I could have fairly wrote down and sworn to.
I was going one evening to Martinis concert at Milan, and was
just entering the door of the hall, when the Marquesina di F * * * was
coming out in a sort of a hurryshe was almost upon me before I
saw her; so I gave a spring to one side to let her passShe had done
the same, and on the same side too; so we ran our heads together: she
instantly got to the other side to get out: I was just as unfortunate as
she had been; for I had sprung to that side, and opposed her passage
againWe both flew together to the other side, and then backand
so onit was ridiculous; we both blushd intolerably; so I did at last
the thing I should have done at firstI stood stock still, and the
Marquesina had no more difficulty. I had no power to go into the
room, till I had made her so much reparation as to wait and follow
her with my eye to the end of the passageShe lookd back twice,
and walkd along it rather side-ways, as if she would make room for
any one coming up stairs to pass herNo, said Ithats a vile
translation: the Marquesina has a right to the best apology I can
make her; and that opening is left for me to do it inso I ran and
beggd pardon for the embarrassment I had given her, saying it was
my intention to have made her way. She answered, she was guided by
the same intention towards meso we reciprocally thankd each
other. She was at the top of the stairs; and seeing no chichesbeo near
her, I beggd to hand her to her coachso we went down the stairs,
stopping at every third step to talk of the concert and the adven-
tureUpon my word, Madame, said I when I had handed her in, I
made six different efforts to let you go outAnd I made six efforts,
replied she, to let you enterI wish to heaven you would make a
seventh, said IWith all my heart, said she, making roomLife is
too short to be long about the forms of itso I instantly steppd in,
and she carried me home with herAnd what became of the con-
cert, St. Cecilia, who, I suppose, was at it, knows more than I.
I will only add, that the connection which arose out of that trans-
lation, gave me more pleasure than any one I had the honour to make
in Italy.
VOL. I 637
THE DWARF.
PARI S.
I
HAD never heard the remark made by any one in my life, except
by one; and who that was, will probably come out in this chapter;
so that being pretty much unprepossessed, there must have been
grounds for what struck me the moment I cast my eyes over the
parterreand that was, the unaccountable sport of nature in form-
ing such numbers of dwarfsNo doubt, she sports at certain times
in almost every corner of the world; but in Paris, there is no end to
her amusementsThe goddess seems almost as merry as she is wise.
As I carried my idea out of the opera comique with me, I measured
every body I saw walking in the streets by itMelancholy appli-
cation! especially where the size was extremely littlethe face extremely
darkthe eyes quickthe nose longthe teeth whitethe jaw pro-
minentto see so many miserables, by force of accidents driven out of
their own proper class into the very verge of another, which it gives
me pain to write downevery third man a pigmy!some by ricketty
heads and hump backsothers by bandy legsa third set arrested
by the hand of Nature in the sixth and seventh years of their
growtha fourth, in their perfect and natural state, like dwarf
apple-trees; from the first rudiments and stamina of their existence,
never meant to grow higher.
A medical traveller might say, tis owing to undue bandagesa
splenetic one, to want of airand an inquisitive traveller, to fortify
the system, may measure the height of their housesthe narrowness
of their streets, and in how few feet square in the sixth and seventh
stories such numbers of the Bourgoisie eat and sleep together; but I
remember, Mr. Shandy the elder, who accounted for nothing like
any body else, in speaking one evening of these matters, averred, that
children, like other animals, might be increased almost to any size,
provided they came right into the world; but the misery was, the
citizens of Paris were so coopd up, that they had not actually room
enough to get themI do not call it getting any thing, said hetis
getting nothingNay, continued he, rising in his argument, tis get-
ting worse than nothing, when all you have got, after twenty or five
and twenty years of the tenderest care and most nutritious aliment
bestowed upon it, shall not at last be as high as my leg. Now,
638 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
Mr. Shandy being very short, there could be nothing more said
upon it.
As this is not a work of reasoning, I leave the solution as I found it,
and content myself with the truth only of the remark, which is
verified in every lane and by-lane of Paris. I was walking down that
which leads from the Carousal to the Palais Royal, and observing a
little boy in some distress at the side of the gutter, which ran down
the middle of it, I took hold of his hand, and helpd him over. Upon
turning up his face to look at him after, I perceived he was about
fortyNever mind, said I; some good body will do as much for me
when I am ninety.
I feel some little principles within me, which incline me to be
merciful towards this poor blighted part of my species, who have
neither size or strength to get on in the worldI cannot bear to see
one of them trod upon; and had scarce got seated beside my old
French officer, ere the disgust was exercised, by seeing the very thing
happen under the box we sat in.
At the end of the orchestra, and betwixt that and the first side-
box, there is a small esplanade left, where, when the house is full,
numbers of all ranks take sanctuary. Though you stand, as in the
parterre, you pay the same price as in the orchestra. A poor
defenceless being of this order had got thrust some how or other
into this luckless placethe night was hot, and he was surrounded
by beings two feet and a half higher than himself. The dwarf
suffered inexpressibly on all sides; but the thing which incom-
moded him most, was a tall corpulent German, near seven feet
high, who stood directly betwixt him and all possibility of his see-
ing either the stage or the actors. The poor dwarf did all he could to
get a peep at what was going forwards, by seeking for some little
opening betwixt the Germans arm and his body, trying first one
side, then the other; but the German stood square in the most
unaccommodating posture that can be imaginedthe dwarf might
as well have been placed at the bottom of the deepest draw-well in
Paris; so he civilly reachd up his hand to the Germans sleeve, and
told him his distressThe German turnd his head back, lookd
down upon him as Goliah did upon Davidand unfeelingly
resumed his posture.
I was just then taking a pinch of snuff out of my monks little horn
boxAnd how would thy meek and courteous spirit, my dear monk!
VOL. I 639
so temperd to bear and forbear!how sweetly would it have lent an
ear to this poor souls complaint!
The old French officer seeing me lift up my eyes with an emotion,
as I made the apostrophe, took the liberty to ask me what was the
matterI told him the story in three words; and added, how
inhuman it was.
By this time the dwarf was driven to extremes, and in his first
transports, which are generally unreasonable, had told the German
he would cut off his long queue with his knifeThe German lookd
back coolly, and told him he was welcome if he could reach it.
An injury sharpened by an insult, be it to who it will, makes every
man of sentiment a party: I could have leaped out of the box to have
redressed it.The old French officer did it with much less confu-
sion; for leaning a little over, and nodding to a centinel, and pointing
at the same time with his finger to the distressthe centinel made
his way up to it.There was no occasion to tell the grievancethe
thing told itself; so thrusting back the German instantly with his
muskethe took the poor dwarf by the hand, and placed him before
him.This is noble! said I, clapping my hands togetherAnd yet
you would not permit this, said the old officer, in England.
In England, dear Sir, said I, we sit all at our ease.
The old French officer would have set me at unity with myself, in
case I had been at variance,by saying it was a bon motand as a bon
mot is always worth something at Paris, he offered me a pinch of
snuff.
THE ROSE.
PARI S.
I
T was now my turn to ask the old French officer What was the
matter? for a cry of Haussez les mains, Monsieur lAbbe, re-echoed
from a dozen different parts of the parterre, was as unintelligible to
me, as my apostrophe to the monk had been to him.
He told me, it was some poor Abbe in one of the upper loges, who
he supposed had got planted perdu behind a couple of grissets in
order to see the opera, and that the parterre espying him, were
insisting upon his holding up both his hands during the representa-
tion.And can it be supposed, said I, that an ecclesiastick would
640 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
pick the Grissets pockets? The old French officer smiled, and whis-
pering in my ear, opend a door of knowledge which I had no idea
of
Good God! said I, turning pale with astonishmentis it possible,
that a people so smit with sentiment should at the same time be so
unclean, and so unlike themselvesQuelle grossierte! added I.
The French officer told me, it was an illiberal sarcasm at the
church, which had begun in the theatre about the time the Tartuffe
was given in it, by Molierebut, like other remains of Gothic man-
ners, was decliningEvery nation, continued he, have their refine-
ments and grossiertes, in which they take the lead, and lose it of one
another by turnsthat he had been in most countries, but never in
one where he found not some delicacies, which others seemed to
want. Le POUR, et le CONTRE se trouvent en chaque nation; there is a
balance, said he, of good and bad every where; and nothing but the
knowing it is so can emancipate one half of the world from the
prepossessions which it holds against the otherthat the advantage
of travel, as it regarded the savoir vivre, was by seeing a great deal
both of men and manners; it taught us mutual toleration; and
mutual toleration, concluded he, making me a bow, taught us mutual
love.
The old French officer delivered this with an air of such candour
and good sense, as coincided with my first favourable impressions of
his characterI thought I loved the man; but I fear I mistook the
objecttwas my own way of thinkingthe difference was, I could
not have expressed it half so well.
It is alike troublesome to both the rider and his beastif the latter
goes pricking up his ears, and starting all the way at every object
which he never saw beforeI have as little torment of this kind as
any creature alive; and yet I honestly confess, that many a thing gave
me pain, and that I blushd at many a word the first monthwhich I
found inconsequent and perfectly innocent the second.
Madame de Rambouliet, after an acquaintance of about six weeks
with her, had done me the honour to take me in her coach about two
leagues out of townOf all women, Madame de Rambouliet is the
most correct; and I never wish to see one of more virtues and purity
of heartIn our return back, Madame de Rambouliet desired me to
pull the cordI askd her if she wanted any thingRien que pisser,
said Madame de Rambouliet
VOL. I 64
Grieve not, gentle traveller, to let Madame de Rambouliet p - - ss
onAnd, ye fair mystic nymphs! go each one pluck your rose, and
scatter them in your pathfor Madame de Rambouliet did no
moreI handed Madame de Rambouliet out of the coach; and had I
been the priest of the chaste CASTALIA, I could not have served at
her fountain with a more respectful decorum.
END OF VOL. I.
A
SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
T H R O U G H
F R A N C E A N D I TA L Y.
B Y
MR. Y O R I C K.
V O L. I I.
L O N D O N:
Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DE HONDT,
in the Strand. MDCCLXVIII.
THE FI LLE DE CHAMBRE.
PARI S.
W
HAT the old French officer had deliverd upon travelling, bring-
ing Poloniuss advice to his son upon the same subject into my
headand that bringing in Hamlet; and Hamlet, the rest of Shakespears
works, I stoppd at the Quai de Conti in my return home, to purchase
the whole set.
The bookseller said he had not a set in the worldComment! said
I; taking one up out of a set which lay upon the counter betwixt
us.He said, they were sent him only to be got bound, and were
to be sent back to Versailles in the morning to the Count de B * * * *.
And does the Count de B * * * *, said I, read Shakespear? Cest un
Esprit fort; replied the bookseller.He loves English books; and
what is more to his honour, Monsieur, he loves the English too. You
speak this so civilly, said I, that tis enough to oblige an Englishman
to lay out a Louis dor or two at your shopthe bookseller made a
bow, and was going to say something, when a young decent girl of
about twenty, who by her air and dress, seemed to be fille de chambre
to some devout woman of fashion, came into the shop and asked for
Les Egarments du Cur & de lEsprit: the bookseller gave her the
book directly; she pulled out a little green sattin purse run round
with a ribband of the same colour, and putting her finger and thumb
into it, she took out the money, and paid for it. As I had nothing
more to stay me in the shop, we both walked out at the door together.
And what have you to do, my dear, said I, with The Wander-
ings of the Heart, who scarce know yet you have one? nor till love has
first told you it, or some faithless shepherd has made it ache, canst
thou ever be sure it is so.Le Dieu men guard! said the girl.With
reason, said Ifor if it is a good one, tis pity it should be stolen: tis
a little treasure to thee, and gives a better air to your face, than if it
was dressd out with pearls.
The young girl listened with a submissive attention, holding her
sattin purse by its ribband in her hand all the timeTis a very small
646 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
one, said I, taking hold of the bottom of itshe held it towards me
and there is very little in it, my dear, said I; but be but as good as
thou art handsome, and heaven will fill it: I had a parcel of crowns in
my hand to pay for Shakespear; and as she had let go the purse
intirely, I put a single one in; and tying up the ribband in a bow-knot,
returned it to her.
The young girl made me more a humble courtesy than a low
onetwas one of those quiet, thankful sinkings where the spirit
bows itself downthe body does no more than tell it. I never gave a
girl a crown in my life which gave me half the pleasure.
My advice, my dear, would not have been worth a pin to you, said
I, if I had not given this along with it: but now, when you see the
crown, youll remember itso dont, my dear, lay it out in ribbands.
Upon my word, Sir, said the girl, earnestly, I am incapablein
saying which, as is usual in little bargains of honour, she gave me her
handEn verite, Monsieur, je mettrai cet argent apart, said she.
When a virtuous convention is made betwixt man and woman, it
sanctifies their most private walks: so notwithstanding it was dusky,
yet as both our roads lay the same way, we made no scruple of
walking along the Quai de Conti together.
She made me a second courtesy in setting off, and before we got
twenty yards from the door, as if she had not done enough before,
she made a sort of a little stop to tell me again,she thankd me.
It was a small tribute, I told her, which I could not avoid paying to
virtue, and would not be mistaken in the person I had been render-
ing it to for the worldbut I see innocence, my dear, in your face
and foul befal the man who ever lays a snare in its way!
The girl seemd affected some way or other with what I saidshe
gave a low sighI found I was not impowered to enquire at all after
itso said nothing more till I got to the corner of the Rue de Nevers,
where we were to part.
But is this the way, my dear, said I, to the hotel de Modene? she
told me it wasor, that I might go by the Rue de Guineygaude,
which was the next turn.Then Ill go, my dear, by the Rue de
Guineygaude, said I, for two reasons; first I shall please myself, and
next I shall give you the protection of my company as far on your
way as I can. The girl was sensible I was civiland said, she wishd
the hotel de Modene was in the Rue de St. PierreYou live there?
said I.She told me she was fille de chambre to Madame R * * * *
VOL. II 647
Good God! said I, tis the very lady for whom I have brought a letter
from AmiensThe girl told me that Madame R * * * *, she believed
expected a stranger with a letter, and was impatient to see himso I
desired the girl to present my compliments to Madame R * * * *, and
say I would certainly wait upon her in the morning.
We stood still at the corner of the Rue de Nevers whilst this
passdWe then stoppd a moment whilst she disposed of her
Egarments de Cur, &c. more commodiously than carrying them in
her handthey were two volumes; so I held the second for her
whilst she put the first into her pocket; and then she held her pocket,
and I put in the other after it.
Tis sweet to feel by what fine-spun threads our affections are
drawn together.
We set off a-fresh, and as she took her third step, the girl put her
hand within my armI was just bidding herbut she did it of
herself with that undeliberating simplicity, which shewd it was out
of her head that she had never seen me before. For my own part, I
felt the conviction of consanguinity so strongly, that I could not help
turning half round to look in her face, and see if I could trace out any
thing in it of a family likenessTut! said I, are we not all relations?
When we arrived at the turning up of the Rue de Guineygaude, I
stoppd to bid her adieu for good an all: the girl would thank me
again for my company and kindnessShe bid me adieu twiceI
repeated it as often; and so cordial was the parting between us, that
had it happend any where else, Im not sure but I should have signed
it with a kiss of charity, as warm and holy as an apostle.
But in Paris, as none kiss each other but the menI did, what
amounted to the same thing
I bid God bless her.
THE PASSPORT.
PARI S.
W
HEN I got home to my hotel, La Fleur told me I had been
enquired after by the Lieutenant de PoliceThe duce take it!
said II know the reason. It is time the reader should know it, for in
the order of things in which it happened, it was omitted; not that it was
648 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
out of my head; but that had I told it then, it might have been forgot
nowand now is the time I want it.
I had left London with so much precipitation, that it never enterd
my mind that we were at war with France; and had reachd Dover,
and lookd through my glass at the hills beyond Boulogne, before the
idea presented itself; and with this in its train, that there was no
getting there without a passport. Go but to the end of a street, I have
a mortal aversion for returning back no wiser than I set out; and as
this was one of the greatest efforts I had ever made for knowledge, I
could less bear the thoughts of it: so hearing the Count de * * * * had
hired the packet, I beggd he would take me in his suite. The Count
had some little knowledge of me, so made little or no difficulty
only said, his inclination to serve me could reach no further than
Calais; as he was to return by way of Brussels to Paris: however,
when I had once passd there, I might get to Paris without interrup-
tion; but that in Paris I must make friends and shift for myself.Let
me get to Paris, Monsieur le Count, said Iand I shall do very well.
So I embarkd, and never thought more of the matter.
When La Fleur told me the Lieutenant de Police had been enquir-
ing after methe thing instantly recurredand by the time La
Fleur had well told me, the master of the hotel came into my room to
tell me the same thing, with this addition to it, that my passport had
been particularly askd after: the master of the hotel concluded with
saying, He hoped I had one.Not I, faith! said I.
The master of the hotel retired three steps from me, as from an
infected person, as I declared thisand poor La Fleur advanced
three steps towards me, and with that sort of movement which a
good soul makes to succour a distressd onethe fellow won my
heart by it; and from that single trait, I knew his character as per-
fectly, and could rely upon it as firmly, as if he had served me with
fidelity for seven years.
Mon seignior! cried the master of the hotelbut recollecting
himself as he made the exclamation, he instantly changed the tone of
itIf Monsieur, said he, has not a passport (apparament) in all likeli-
hood he has friends in Paris who can procure him one.Not that I
know of, quoth I, with an air of indifference.Then certes replied
he, youll be sent to the Bastile or the Chatelet, au moins. Poo! said I,
the king of France is a good natured soulhell hurt no body.Cela
nempeche pas, said heyou will certainly be sent to the Bastile
VOL. II 649
to-morrow morning.But Ive taken your lodgings for a month,
answerd I, and Ill not quit them a day before the time for all the
kings of France in the world. La Fleur whisperd in my ear, That no
body could oppose the king of France.
Pardi ! said my host, ces Messieurs Anglois sont des gens tres extra-
ordinairesand having both said and sworn ithe went out.
THE PASSPORT.
The Hotel at Paris.
I
COULD not find in my heart to torture La Fleurs with a serious
look upon the subject of my embarrassment, which was the reason
I had treated it so cavalierly: and to shew him how light it lay upon my
mind, I dropt the subject entirely; and whilst he waited upon me at
supper, talkd to him with more than usual gaiety about Paris, and of
the opera comique.La Fleur had been there himself, and had fol-
lowed me through the streets as far as the booksellers shop; but
seeing me come out with the young fille de chambre, and that we
walkd down the Quai de Conti together, La Fleur deemd it
unnecessary to follow me a step furtherso making his own reflec-
tions upon it, he took a shorter cutand got to the hotel in time
to be informd of the affair of the Police against my arrival.
As soon as the honest creature had taken away, and gone down to
sup himself, I then began to think a little seriously about my situ-
ation.
And here, I know, Eugenius, thou wilt smile at the remem-
brance of a short dialogue which passd betwixt us the moment I was
going to set outI must tell it here.
Eugenius, knowing that I was as little subject to be overburthend
with money as thought, had drawn me aside to interrogate me how
much I had taken care for; upon telling him the exact sum, Eugenius
shook his head, and said it would not do; so pulld out his purse in
order to empty it into mine.Ive enough in conscience, Eugenius,
said I.Indeed, Yorick, you have not, replied EugeniusI know
France and Italy better than you.But you dont consider,
Eugenius, said I, refusing his offer, that before I have been three days
in Paris, I shall take care to say or do something or other for which I
650 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
shall get clappd up into the Bastile, and that I shall live there a
couple of months entirely at the king of Frances expence.I beg
pardon, said Eugenius, drily: really, I had forgot that resource.
Now the event I treated gaily came seriously to my door.
Is it folly, or nonchalance, or philosophy, or pertinacityor what
is it in me, that, after all, when La Fleur had gone down stairs, and I
was quite alone, that I could not bring down my mind to think of it
otherwise than I had then spoken of it to Eugenius?
And as for the Bastile! the terror is in the wordMake the most
of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a
towerand a tower is but another word for a house you cant get out
ofMercy on the gouty! for they are in it twice a yearbut with
nine livres a day, and pen and ink and paper and patience, albeit a
man cant get out, he may do very well withinat least for a month
or six weeks; at the end of which, if he is a harmless fellow his
innocence appears, and he comes out a better and wiser man than he
went in.
I had some occasion (I forget what) to step into the court-yard, as I
settled this account; and remember I walkd down stairs in no small
triumph with the conceit of my reasoningBeshrew the sombre pen-
cil ! said I vauntinglyfor I envy not its powers, which paints the
evils of life with so hard and deadly a colouring. The mind sits
terrified at the objects she has magnified herself, and blackened:
reduce them to their proper size and hue she overlooks themTis
true, said I, correcting the propositionthe Bastile is not an evil to
be despisedbut strip it of its towersfill up the foss
unbarricade the doorscall it simply a confinement, and suppose
tis some tyrant of a distemperand not of a man which holds you
in itthe evil half vanishes, and you bear the other half without
complaint.
I was interrupted in the hey-day of this soliloquy, with a voice
which I took to be of a child, which complained it could not get
out.I lookd up and down the passage, and seeing neither man,
woman, or child, I went out without further attention.
In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words
repeated twice over; and looking up, I saw it was a starling hung
in a little cage.I cant get outI cant get out, said the
starling.
I stood looking at the bird: and to every person who came through
VOL. II 65
the passage it ran fluttering to the side towards which they
approachd it, with the same lamentation of its captivityI cant
get out, said the starlingGod help thee! said I, but Ill let thee
out, cost what it will; so I turnd about the cage to get to the door; it
was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire, there was no
getting it open without pulling the cage to piecesI took both
hands to it.
The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance,
and thrusting his head through the trellis, pressd his breast against
it, as if impatientI fear, poor creature! said I, I cannot set thee at
libertyNo, said the starlingI cant get outI cant get out,
said the starling.
I vow, I never had my affections more tenderly awakened; or do I
remember an incident in my life, where the dissipated spirits, to
which my reason had been a bubble, were so suddenly calld home.
Mechanical as the notes were, yet so true in tune to nature were they
chanted, that in one moment they overthrew all my systematic
reasonings upon the Bastile; and I heavily walkd up stairs, unsaying
every word I had said in going down them.
Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still slavery! said Istill thou art a
bitter draught; and though thousands in all ages have been made to
drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account.Tis thou,
thrice sweet and gracious goddess, addressing myself to LIBERTY,
whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful, and
ever wilt be so, till NATURE herself shall changeno tint of words
can spot thy snowy mantle, or chymic power turn thy sceptre into
ironwith thee to smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is
happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled
Gracious heaven! cried I, kneeling down upon the last step but one
in my ascentgrant me but health, thou great Bestower of it, and
give me but this fair goddess as my companionand shower down
thy mitres, if it seems good unto thy divine providence, upon those
heads which are aching for them.
652 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
THE CAPTI VE.
PARI S.
T
HE bird in his cage pursued me into my room; I sat down close
to my table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure
to myself the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and
so I gave full scope to my imagination.
I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow creatures born
to no inheritance but slavery; but finding, however affecting the pic-
ture was, that I could not bring it near me, and that the multitude of
sad groups in it did but distract me
I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his
dungeon, I then lookd through the twilight of his grated door to
take his picture.
I beheld his body half wasted away with long expectation and
confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the heart it was which
arises from hope deferrd. Upon looking nearer I saw him pale and
feverish: in thirty years the western breeze had not once fannd his
bloodhe had seen no sun, no moon in all that timenor had
the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his latticehis
children
But here my heart began to bleedand I was forced to go on
with another part of the portrait.
He was sitting upon the ground upon a little straw, in the fur-
thest corner of his dungeon, which was alternately his chair and
bed: a little calender of small sticks were laid at the head notchd
all over with the dismal days and nights he had passd therehe
had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he
was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I dark-
ened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the
door, then cast it downshook his head, and went on with his
work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turnd his
body to lay his little stick upon the bundleHe gave a deep sigh
I saw the iron enter into his soulI burst into tearsI could not
sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawnI
startled up from my chair, and calling La Fleur, I bid him bespeak
me a remise, and have it ready at the door of the hotel by nine in
the morning.
VOL. II 653
Ill go directly, said I, myself to Monsieur Le Duke de
Choiseul.
La Fleur would have put me to bed; but not willing he should see
any thing upon my cheek, which would cost the honest fellow a heart
acheI told him I would go to bed by myselfand bid him go do
the same.
THE STARLI NG.
ROAD TO VERSAI LLES.
I
GOT into my remise the hour I proposed: La Fleur got up behind,
and I bid the coachman make the best of his way to Versailles.
As there was nothing in this road, or rather nothing which I look
for in travelling, I cannot fill up the blank better than with a short
history of this self-same bird, which became the subject of the last
chapter.
Whilst the Honourable Mr. * * * * was waiting for a wind at Dover it
had been caught upon the cliffs before it could well fly, by an English
lad who was his groom; who not caring to destroy it, had taken it in
his breast into the packetand by course of feeding it, and taking it
once under his protection, in a day or two grew fond of it, and got it
safe along with him to Paris.
At Paris the lad had laid out a livre in a little cage for the
starling, and as he had little to do better the five months his master
stayd there, he taught it in his mothers tongue the four simple
words(and no more)to which I ownd myself so much its
debtor.
Upon his masters going on for Italythe lad had given it to the
master of the hotelBut his little song for liberty, being in an
unknown language at Paristhe bird had little or no store set by
himso La Fleur bought both him and his cage for me for a bottle
of Burgundy.
In my return from Italy I brought him with me to the country in
whose language he had learnd his notesand telling the story of
him to Lord ALord A beggd the bird of mein a week Lord A
gave him to Lord BLord B made a present of him to Lord Cand
Lord Cs gentleman sold him to Lord D for a shillingLord D
654 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
gave him to Lord Eand so onhalf round the alphabetFrom
that rank he passd into the lower house, and passd the hands of as
many commonersBut as all these wanted to get inand my bird
wanted to get outhe had almost as little store set by him in
London as in Paris.
It is impossible but many of my readers must have heard of
him; and if any by mere chance have ever seen himI beg leave to
inform them, that that bird was my birdor some vile copy set up to
represent him.
I have nothing further to add upon him, but that from that time
to this, I have borne this poor starling as the crest to my arms.
Thus:
And let the heralds officers twist his neck about if they dare.
VOL. II 655
THE ADDRESS.
VERSAI LLES.
I
SHOULD not like to have my enemy take a view of my mind, when
I am going to ask protection of any man: for which reason I generally
endeavour to protect myself; but this going to Monsieur Le Duc de
C * * * * * was an act of compulsionhad it been an act of choice, I
should have done it, I suppose, like other people.
How many mean plans of dirty address, as I went along, did my
servile heart form! I deserved the Bastile for every one of them.
Then nothing would serve me, when I got within sight of Ver-
sailles, but putting words and sentences together, and conceiving
attitudes and tones to wreath myself into Monsieur Le Duc de
C * * * * *s good gracesThis will dosaid IJust as well,
retorted I again, as a coat carried up to him by an adventurous taylor,
without taking his measureFool ! continued Isee Monsieur Le
Ducs face firstobserve what character is written in it; take notice
in what posture he stands to hear youmark the turns and expres-
sions of his body and limbsAnd for the tonethe first sound
which comes from his lips will give it you; and from all these
together youll compound an address at once upon the spot, which
cannot disgust the Dukethe ingredients are his own, and most
likely to go down.
Well ! said I, I wish it well overCoward again! as if man to man
was not equal, throughout the whole surface of the globe; and if in
the fieldwhy not face to face in the cabinet too? And trust me,
Yorick, whenever it is not so, man is false to himself; and betrays his
own succours ten times, where nature does it once. Go to the Duc de
C * * * * * with the Bastile in thy looksMy life for it, thou wilt be sent
back to Paris in half an hour, with an escort.
I believe so, said IThen Ill go to the Duke, by heaven! with all
the gaity and debonairness in the world.
And there you are wrong again, replied IA heart at ease,
Yorick, flies into no extremestis ever on its center.Well ! well !
cried I, as the coachman turnd in at the gatesI find I shall do very
well: and by the time he had wheeld round the court, and brought
me up to the door, I found myself so much the better for my own
lecture, that I neither ascended the steps like a victim to justice, who
656 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
was to part with life upon the topmost,nor did I mount them with
a skip and a couple of strides, as I do when I fly up, Eliza! to thee, to
meet it.
As I enterd the door of the saloon, I was met by a person who
possibly might be the maitre dhotel, but had more the air of one of
the under secretaries, who told me the Duc de C * * * * * was busyI
am utterly ignorant, said I, of the forms of obtaining an audience,
being an absolute stranger, and what is worse in the present con-
juncture of affairs, being an Englishman too.He replied, that
did not increase the difficulty.I made him a slight bow, and told
him, I had something of importance to say to Monsieur Le Duc. The
secretary lookd towards the stairs, as if he was about to leave me to
carry up this account to some oneBut I must not mislead you, said
Ifor what I have to say is of no manner of importance to Monsieur
Le Duc de C * * * * *but of great importance to myself.Cest une
autre affaire, replied heNot at all, said I, to a man of gal-
lantry.But pray, good sir, continued I, when can a stranger hope to
have accesse? In not less than two hours, said he, looking at his watch.
The number of equipages in the court-yard seemd to justify the
calculation, that I could have no nearer a prospectand as walking
backwards and forwards in the saloon, without a soul to commune
with, was for the time as bad as being in the Bastile itself, I instantly
went back to my remise, and bid the coachman drive me to the cordon
bleu, which was the nearest hotel.
I think there is a fatality in itI seldom go to the place I set out
for.
LE PATI SSER.
VERSAI LLES.
B
EFORE I had got half-way down the street, I changed my mind:
as I am at Versailles, thought I, I might as well take a view of the
town; so I pulld the cord, and ordered the coachman to drive round
some of the principal streetsI suppose the town is not very large, said
I.The coachman beggd pardon for setting me right, and told me
it was very superb, and that numbers of the first dukes and mar-
quises and counts had hotelsThe Count de B * * * *, of whom the
VOL. II 657
bookseller at the Quai de Conti had spoke so handsomely the night
before, came instantly into my mind.And why should I not go,
thought I, to the Count de B * * * *, who has so high an idea of English
books, and Englishmenand tell him my story? so I changed my
mind a second timeIn truth it was the third; for I had intended
that day for Madame de R * * * * in the Rue St. Pierre, and had
devoutly sent her word by her fille de chambre that I would assuredly
wait upon herbut I am governd by circumstancesI cannot gov-
ern them: so seeing a man standing with a basket on the other side of
the street, as if he had something to sell, I bid La Fleur go up to him
and enquire for the Counts hotel.
La Fleur returnd a little pale; and told me it was a Chevalier de
St. Louis selling patsIt is impossible, La Fleur! said I.La Fleur
could no more account for the phenomenon than myself; but per-
sisted in his story: he had seen the croix set in gold, with its red
ribband, he said, tied to his button-holeand had lookd into the
basket and seen the pats which the Chevalier was selling; so could
not be mistaken in that.
Such a reverse in mans life awakens a better principle than curios-
ity: I could not help looking for some time at him as I sat in the
remisethe more I lookd at himhis croix and his basket, the
stronger they wove themselves into my brainI got out of the remise
and went towards him.
He was begirt with a clean linen apron which fell below his knees,
and with a sort of a bib went half way up his breast; upon the top of
this, but a little below the hem, hung his croix. His basket of little
pats was coverd over with a white damask napkin; another of the
same kind was spread at the bottom; and there was a look of propret
and neatness throughout, that one might have bought his pats of
him, as much from appetite as sentiment.
He made an offer of them to neither; but stood still with them at
the corner of a hotel, for those to buy who chose it, without
solicitation.
He was about forty-eightof a sedate look, something approach-
ing to gravity. I did not wonder.I went up rather to the basket than
him, and having lifted up the napkin and taken one of his pats into
my handI beggd he would explain the appearance which affected
me.
He told me in a few words, that the best part of his life had passd
658 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
in the service, in which, after spending a small patrimony, he had
obtaind a company and the croix with it; but that at the conclusion
of the last peace, his regiment being reformed, and the whole corps,
with those of some other regiments, left without any provisionhe
found himself in a wide world without friends, without a livreand
indeed, said he, without any thing but this(pointing, as he said it,
to his croix)The poor chevalier won my pity, and he finishd the
scene, with winning my esteem too.
The king, he said, was the most generous of princes, but his
generosity could neither relieve or reward every one, and it was only
his misfortune to be amongst the number. He had a little wife, he
said, whom he loved, who did the patisserie; and added, he felt no
dishonour in defending her and himself from want in this way
unless Providence had offerd him a better.
It would be wicked to with-hold a pleasure from the good, in
passing over what happend to this poor Chevalier of St. Louis about
nine months after.
It seems he usually took his stand near the iron gates which lead
up to the palace, and as his croix had caught the eye of numbers,
numbers had made the same enquiry which I had doneHe had
told them the same story, and always with so much modesty and
good sense, that it had reachd at last the kings earswho hearing
the Chevalier had been a gallant officer, and respected by the whole
regiment as a man of honour and integrityhe broke up his little
trade by a pension of fifteen hundred livres a year.
As I have told this to please the reader, I beg he will allow me to
relate another out of its order, to please myselfthe two stories
reflect light upon each other,and tis a pity they should be parted.
THE SWORD.
RENNES.
W
HEN states and empires have their periods of declension, and
feel in their turns what distress and poverty isI stop not to tell
the causes which gradually brought the house dE * * * * in Britany into
decay. The Marquis dE * * * * had fought up against his condition
with great firmness; wishing to preserve, and still shew to the world
VOL. II 659
some little fragments of what his ancestors had beentheir indiscre-
tions had put it out of his power. There was enough left for the little
exigencies of obscurityBut he had two boys who lookd up to him
for lighthe thought they deserved it. He had tried his swordit
could not open the waythe mounting was too expensiveand
simple conomy was not a match for itthere was no resource but
commerce.
In any other province in France, save Britany, this was smiting the
root for ever of the little tree his pride and affection wishd to see re-
blossomBut in Britany, there being a provision for this, he availd
himself of it; and taking an occasion when the states were assembled
at Rennes, the Marquis, attended with his two boys, enterd the
court; and having pleaded the right of an ancient law of the duchy,
which, though seldom claimd, he said, was no less in force; he took
his sword from his sideHeresaid hetake it; and be trusty
guardians of it, till better times put me in condition to reclaim it.
The president accepted the Marquiss swordhe stayd a few
minutes to see it deposited in the archives of his houseand
departed.
The Marquis and his whole family embarked the next day for
Martinico, and in about nineteen or twenty years of successful appli-
cation to business, with some unlookd for bequests from distant
branches of his housereturnd home to reclaim his nobility and to
support it.
It was an incident of good fortune which will never happen to any
traveller, but a sentimental one, that I should be at Rennes at the very
time of this solemn requisition: I call it solemnit was so to me.
The Marquis enterd the court with his whole family: he sup-
ported his ladyhis eldest son supported his sister, and his youngest
was at the other extreme of the line next his motherhe put his
handkerchief to his face twice
There was a dead silence. When the Marquis had approachd
within six paces of the tribunal, he gave the Marchioness to his
youngest son, and advancing three steps before his familyhe
reclaimd his sword. His sword was given him, and the moment he
got it into his hand he drew it almost out of the scabbardtwas the
shining face of a friend he had once given uphe lookd attentively
along it, beginning at the hilt, as if to see whether it was the same
when observing a little rust which it had contracted near the point,
660 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
he brought it near his eye, and bending his head down over itI
think I saw a tear fall upon the place: I could not be deceived by what
followed.
I shall find, said he, some other way, to get it off.
When the Marquis had said this, he returnd his sword into its
scabbard, made a bow to the guardians of itand, with his wife and
daughter and his two sons following him, walkd out.
O! how I envied him his feelings!
THE PASSPORT.
VERSAI LLES.
I
FOUND no difficulty in getting admittance to Monsieur Le Count
de B * * * *. The set of Shakespears was laid upon the table, and he
was tumbling them over. I walkd up close to the table, and giving
first such a look at the books as to make him conceive I knew what
they wereI told him I had come without any one to present
me, knowing I should meet with a friend in his apartment who, I
trusted, would do it for meit is my countryman the great Shake-
spear, said I, pointing to his workset ayez la bont, mon cher ami,
apostrophizing his spirit, added I, de me faire cet honneur la.
The Count smild at the singularity of the introduction; and see-
ing I lookd a little pale and sickly, insisted upon my taking an arm-
chair: so I sat down; and to save him conjectures upon a visit so out
of all rule, I told him simply of the incident in the booksellers shop,
and how that had impelld me rather to go to him with the story of a
little embarrassment I was under, than to any other man in France
And what is your embarrassment? let me hear it, said the Count. So I
told him the story just as I have told it the reader
And the master of my hotel, said I, as I concluded it, will needs
have it, Monsieur le Count, that I shall be sent to the Bastilebut I
have no apprehensions, continued Ifor in falling into the hands of
the most polishd people in the world, and being conscious I was a
true man, and not come to spy the nakedness of the land, I scarce
thought I laid at their mercy.It does not suit the gallantry of the
French, Monsieur le Count, said I, to shew it against invalids.
An animated blush came into the Count de B * * * *s cheeks, as I
VOL. II 66
spoke thisNe craignez rienDont fear, said heIndeed I dont,
replied I againbesides, continued I a little sportinglyI have
come laughing all the way from London to Paris, and I do not think
Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul is such an enemy to mirth, as to send
me back crying for my pains.
My application to you, Monsieur le Compte de B * * * *
(making him a low bow) is to desire he will not.
The Count heard me with great good nature, or I had not said half
as muchand once or twice saidCest bien dit. So I rested my
cause thereand determined to say no more about it.
The Count led the discourse: we talkd of indifferent things;of
books and politicks, and menand then of womenGod bless them
all ! said I, after much discourse about themthere is not a man
upon earth who loves them so much as I do: after all the foibles I
have seen, and all the satires I have read against them, still I love
them; being firmly persuaded that a man who has not a sort of an
affection for the whole sex, is incapable of ever loving a single one as
he ought.
Hh bien! Monsieur lAnglois, said the Count, gailyYou are not
come to spy the nakedness of the landI believe youni encore, I
dare say, that of our womenBut permit me to conjectureif, par
hazard, they fell in your waythat the prospect would not affect
you.
I have something within me which cannot bear the shock of the
least indecent insinuation: in the sportability of chit-chat I have
often endeavoured to conquer it, and with infinite pain have haz-
arded a thousand things to a dozen of the sex togetherthe least of
which I could not venture to a single one, to gain heaven.
Excuse me, Monsieur Le Count, said Ias for the nakedness of
your land, if I saw it, I should cast my eyes over it with tears in
themand for that of your women (blushing at the idea he had
excited in me) I am so evangelical in this, and have such a fellow-
feeling for what ever is weak about them, that I would cover it with a
garment, if I knew how to throw it onBut I could wish, continued
I, to spy the nakedness of their hearts, and through the different
disguises of customs, climates, and religion, find out what is good in
them, to fashion my own byand therefore am I come.
It is for this reason, Monsieur le Compte, continued I, that I have
not seen the Palais royalnor the Luxembourgnor the Faade of
662 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
the Louvrenor have attempted to swell the catalogues we have of
pictures, statues, and churchesI conceive every fair being as a
temple, and would rather enter in, and see the original drawings and
loose sketches hung up in it, than the transfiguration of Raphael
itself.
The thirst of this, continued I, as impatient as that which inflames
the breast of the connoisseur, has led me from my own home into
Franceand from France will lead me through Italytis a quiet
journey of the heart in pursuit of NATURE, and those affections
which rise out of her, which make us love each otherand the
world, better than we do.
The Count said a great many civil things to me upon the occasion;
and added very politely how much he stood obliged to Shakespear
for making me known to himbut, a-propos, said heShakespear is
full of great thingsHe forgot a small punctillio of announcing your
nameit puts you under a necessity of doing it yourself.
THE PASSPORT.
VERSAI LLES.
T
HERE is not a more perplexing affair in life to me, than to set
about telling any one who I amfor there is scarce any body I
cannot give a better account of than of myself; and I have often wishd
I could do it in a single wordand have an end of it. It was the only
time and occasion in my life, I could accomplish this to any purpose
for Shakespear lying upon the table, and recollecting I was in his books,
I took up Hamlet, and turning immediately to the grave-diggers
scene in the fifth act, I layd my finger upon YORICK, and advancing
the book to the Count, with my finger all the way over the name
Me, Voici ! said I.
Now whether the idea of poor Yoricks skull was put out of the
Counts mind, by the reality of my own, or by what magic he could
drop a period of seven or eight hundred years, makes nothing in this
accounttis certain the French conceive better than they com-
bineI wonder at nothing in this world, and the less at this; inas-
much as one of the first of our own church, for whose candour and
paternal sentiments I have the highest veneration, fell into the same
VOL. II 663
mistake in the very same case.He could not bear, he said, to look
into sermons wrote by the king of Denmarks jester.Good, my
lord! said Ibut there are two Yoricks. The Yorick your lordship
thinks of, has been dead and buried eight hundred years ago; he
flourishd in Horwendilluss courtthe other Yorick is myself, who
have flourishd my lord in no courtHe shook his headGood
God! said I, you might as well confound Alexander the Great, with
Alexander the Copper-smith, my lordTwas all one, he
replied
If Alexander king of Macedon could have translated your
lordship, said IIm sure your Lordship would not have said so.
The poor Count de B * * * * fell but into the same error
Et, Monsieur, est il Yorick? cried the Count.Je le suis, said I.
Vous?Moimoi qui ai lhonneur de vous parler, Monsieur le
CompteMon Dieu! said he, embracing meVous etes Yorick.
The Count instantly put the Shakespear into his pocketand left
me alone in his room.
THE PASSPORT.
VERSAI LLES.
I
COULD not conceive why the Count de B * * * * had gone so abruptly
out of the room, any more than I could conceive why he had put
the Shakespear into his pocketMysteries which must explain them-
selves, are not worth the loss of time, which a conjecture about them
takes up: twas better to read Shakespear; so taking up Much Ado about
Nothing, I transported myself instantly from the chair I sat in to
Messina in Sicily, and got so busy with Don Pedro and Benedick and
Beatrice, that I thought not of Versailles, the Count, or the Passport.
Sweet pliability of mans spirit, that can at once surrender itself to
illusions, which cheat expectation and sorrow of their weary
moments!longlong since had ye numberd out my days, had I
not trod so great a part of them upon this enchanted ground: when
my way is too rough for my feet, or too steep for my strength, I get
off it, to some smooth velvet path which fancy has scattered over
with rose-buds of delights; and having taken a few turns in it, come
back strengthend and refreshdWhen evils press sore upon me,
664 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
and there is no retreat from them in this world, then I take a new
courseI leave itand as I have a clearer idea of the elysian fields
than I have of heaven, I force myself, like Eneas, into themI see
him meet the pensive shade of his forsaken Didoand wish to rec-
ognize itI see the injured spirit wave her head, and turn off silent
from the author of her miseries and dishonoursI lose the feelings
for myself in hersand in those affections which were wont to make
me mourn for her when I was at school.
Surely this is not walking in a vain shadownor does man disquiet
himself in vain, by ithe oftener does so in trusting the issue of his
commotions to reason only.I can safely say for myself, I was never
able to conquer any one single bad sensation in my heart so
decisively, as by beating up as fast as I could for some kindly and
gentle sensation, to fight it upon its own ground.
When I had got to the end of the third act, the Count de B * * * *
entered with my Passport in his hand. Mons. le Duc de C * * * * *, said
the Count, is as good a prophet, I dare say, as he is a statesmanUn
homme qui rit, said the duke, ne sera jamais dangereuz.Had it been
for any one but the kings jester, added the Count, I could not have
got it these two hours.Pardonnez moi, Mons. Le Compte, said II
am not the kings jester.But you are Yorick?Yes.Et vous plai-
santez?I answered, Indeed I did jestbut was not paid for it
twas entirely at my own expence.
We have no jester at court, Mons. Le Compte, said I, the last we
had was in the licentious reign of Charles the IIdsince which time
our manners have been so gradually refining, that our court at pres-
ent is so full of patriots, who wish for nothing but the honours and
wealth of their countryand our ladies are all so chaste, so spotless,
so good, so devoutthere is nothing for a jester to make a jest of
Voila un persiflage! cried the Count.
THE PASSPORT.
VERSAI LLES.
A
S the Passport was directed to all lieutenant governors, governors,
and commandants of cities, generals of armies, justiciaries, and
all officers of justice, to let Mr. Yorick, the kings jester, and his
VOL. II 665
baggage, travel quietly alongI own the triumph of obtaining the
Passport was not a little tarnishd by the figure I cut in itBut there
is nothing unmixt in this world; and some of the gravest of our
divines have carried it so far as to affirm, that enjoyment itself was
attended even with a sighand that the greatest they knew of, ter-
minated in a general way, in little better than a convulsion.
I remember the grave and learned Bevoriskius, in his commentary
upon the generations from Adam, very naturally breaks off in the
middle of a note to give an account to the world of a couple of
sparrows upon the out-edge of his window, which had incommoded
him all the time he wrote, and at last had entirely taken him off from
his genealogy.
Tis strange! writes Bevoriskius; but the facts are certain, for I
have had the curiosity to mark them down one by one with my pen
but the cock-sparrow during the little time that I could have finished
the other half this note, has actually interrupted me with the
reiteration of his caresses three and twenty times and a half.
How merciful, adds Bevoriskius, is heaven to his creatures!
Ill fated Yorick! that the gravest of thy brethren should be able to
write that to the world, which stains thy face with crimson, to copy
in even thy study.
But this is nothing to my travelsSo I twicetwice beg pardon
for it.
CHARACTER.
VERSAI LLES.
A
ND how do you find the French? said the Count de B * * * *, after
he had given me the Passport.
The reader may suppose that after so obliging a proof of courtesy,
I could not be at a loss to say something handsome to the enquiry.
Mais passe, pour celaSpeak frankly, said he; do you find all the
urbanity in the French which the world give us the honour of ?I
had found every thing, I said, which confirmed itVraiment, said
the count.Les Franois sont polis.To an excess, replied I.
The count took notice of the word excesse; and would have it I
meant more than I said. I defended myself a long time as well as I
666 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
could against ithe insisted I had a reserve, and that I would speak
my opinion frankly.
I believe, Mons. Le Compte, said I, that man has a certain com-
pass, as well as an instrument; and that the social and other calls have
occasion by turns for every key in him; so that if you begin a note too
high or too low, there must be a want either in the upper or under
part, to fill up the system of harmony.The Count de B * * * * did not
understand music, so desired me to explain it some other way. A
polishd nation, my dear Count, said I, makes every one its debtor;
and besides, urbanity itself, like the fair sex, has so many charms, it
goes against the heart to say it can do ill; and yet, I believe, there is
but a certain line of perfection, that man, take him altogether, is
empowerd to arrive atif he gets beyond, he rather exchanges
qualities, than gets them. I must not presume to say, how far this
has affected the French in the subject we are speaking ofbut
should it ever be the case of the English, in the progress of their
refinements, to arrive at the same polish which distinguishes the
French, if we did not lose the politesse de cur, which inclines men
more to humane actions, than courteous oneswe should at least lose
that distinct variety and originality of character, which distinguishes
them, not only from each other, but from all the world besides.
I had a few king Williams shillings as smooth as glass in my
pocket; and foreseeing they would be of use in the illustration of my
hypothesis, I had got them into my hand, when I had proceeded so
far
See, Mons. Le Compte, said I, rising up, and laying them before
him upon the tableby jingling and rubbing one against another for
seventy years together in one bodys pocket or anothers, they are
become so much alike, you can scarce distinguish one shilling from
another.
The English, like antient medals, kept more apart, and passing but
few peoples hands, preserve the first sharpnesses which the fine hand
of nature has given themthey are not so pleasant to feelbut in
return, the legend is so visible, that at the first look you see whose
image and superscription they bear.But the French, Mons. Le
Compte, added I, wishing to soften what I had said, have so many
excellencies, they can the better spare thisthey are a loyal, a gal-
lant, a generous, an ingenious, and good temperd people as is under
heavenif they have a faultthey are too serious.
VOL. II 667
Mon Dieu! cried the Count, rising out of his chair.
Mais vous plaisantez, said he, correcting his exclamation.I laid
my hand upon my breast, and with earnest gravity assured him, it
was my most settled opinion.
The Count said he was mortified, he could not stay to hear my
reasons, being engaged to go that moment to dine with the Duc de
C * * * * *.
But if it is not too far to come to Versailles to eat your soup with
me, I beg, before you leave France, I may have the pleasure of know-
ing you retract your opinionor, in what manner you support it.
But if you do support it, Mons. Anglois, said he, you must do it with
all your powers, because you have the whole world against you.I
promised the Count I would do myself the honour of dining with
him before I set out for Italyso took my leave.
THE TEMPTATION.
PARI S.
W
HEN I alighted at the hotel, the porter told me a young woman
with a band-box had been that moment enquiring for me.I
do not know, said the porter, whether she is gone away or no. I took the
key of my chamber of him, and went up stairs; and when I had got
within ten steps of the top of the landing before my door, I met her
coming easily down.
It was the fair fille de chambre I had walked along the Quai de
Conti with: Madame de R * * * * had sent her upon some commissions
to a merchande de modes within a step or two of the hotel de Modene;
and as I had faild in waiting upon her, had bid her enquire if I had
left Paris; and if so, whether I had not left a letter addressd to her.
As the fair fille de chambre was so near my door she turned back,
and went into the room with me for a moment or two whilst I wrote a
card.
It was a fine still evening in the latter end of the month of May
the crimson window curtains (which were of the same colour of
those of the bed) were drawn closethe sun was setting and
reflected through them so warm a tint into the fair fille de chambres
faceI thought she blushdthe idea of it made me blush myself
668 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
we were quite alone; and that super-induced a second blush before
the first could get off.
There is a sort of a pleasing half guilty blush, where the blood is
more in fault than the mantis sent impetuous from the heart, and
virtue flies after itnot to call it back, but to make the sensation of it
more delicious to the nervestis associated.
But Ill not describe it.I felt something at first within me which
was not in strict unison with the lesson of virtue I had given her the
night beforeI sought five minutes for a cardI knew I had not
one.I took up a penI laid it down againmy hand trembled
the devil was in me.
I know as well as any one, he is an adversary, whom if we resist, he
will fly from usbut I seldom resist him at all; from a terror, that
though I may conquer, I may still get a hurt in the combatso I give
up the triumph, for security; and instead of thinking to make him fly,
I generally fly myself.
The fair fille de chambre came close up to the bureau where I was
looking for a cardtook up first the pen I cast down, then offered to
hold me the ink: she offerd it so sweetly, I was going to accept it
but I durst notI have nothing, my dear, said I, to write upon.
Write it, said she, simply, upon any thing.
I was just going to cry out, Then I will write it, fair girl ! upon thy
lips.
If I do, said I, I shall perishso I took her by the hand, and led
her to the door, and beggd she would not forget the lesson I had
given herShe said, Indeed she would notand as she utterd it
with some earnestness, she turned about, and gave me both her
hands, closed together, into mineit was impossible not to compress
them in that situationI wishd to let them go; and all the time I
held them, I kept arguing within myself against itand still I held
them on.In two minutes I found I had all the battle to fight over
againand I felt my legs and every limb about me tremble at the
idea.
The foot of the bed was within a yard and a half of the place where
we were standingI had still hold of her handsand how it hap-
pened I can give no account, but I neither askd hernor drew
hernor did I think of the bedbut so it did happen, we both sat
down.
Ill just shew you, said the fair fille de chambre, the little purse I
VOL. II 669
have been making to-day to hold your crown. So she put her hand
into her right pocket, which was next me, and felt for it for some
timethen into the leftShe had lost it.I never bore expect-
ation more quietlyit was in her right pocket at lastshe pulled it
out; it was of green taffeta, lined with a little bit of white quilted
sattin, and just big enough to hold the crownshe put it into my
handit was pretty; and I held it ten minutes with the back of my
hand resting upon her laplooking sometimes at the purse, some-
times on one side of it.
A stitch or two had broke out in the gathers of my stockthe fair
fille de chambre, without saying a word, took out her little hussive,
threaded a small needle, and sewd it upI foresaw it would hazard
the glory of the day; and as she passed her hand in silence across and
across my neck in the manuvre, I felt the laurels shake which fancy
had wreathd about my head.
A strap had given way in her walk, and the buckle of her shoe was
just falling offSee, said the fille de chambre, holding up her footI
could not for my soul but fasten the buckle in return, and putting in
the strapand lifting up the other foot with it, when I had done, to
see both were rightin doing it too suddenlyit unavoidably threw
the fair fille de chambre off her centerand then
THE CONQUEST.
Y
ESand thenYe whose clay-cold heads and luke-warm hearts
can argue down or mask your passionstell me, what trespass is
it that man should have them? or how his spirit stands answerable, to
the father of spirits, but for his conduct under them?
If nature has so wove her web of kindness, that some threads of
love and desire are entangled with the piecemust the whole web be
rent in drawing them out?Whip me such stoics, great governor of
nature! said I to myselfWherever thy providence shall place me for
the trials of my virtuewhatever is my dangerwhatever is my
situationlet me feel the movements which rise out of it, and which
belong to me as a manand if I govern them as a good oneI will
trust the issues to thy justice, for thou hast made usand not we
ourselves.
670 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
As I finishd my address, I raised the fair fille de chambre up by the
hand, and led her out of the roomshe stood by me till I lockd the
door and put the key in my pocketand thenthe victory being
quite decisiveand not till then, I pressd my lips to her cheek, and,
taking her by the hand again, led her safe to the gate of the hotel.
THE MYSTERY.
PARI S.
I
F a man knows the heart, he will know it was impossible to go back
instantly to my chamberit was touching a cold key with a flat third
to it, upon the close of a piece of musick, which had calld forth my
affectionstherefore, when I let go the hand of the fille de chambre, I
remaind at the gate of the hotel for some time, looking at every one
who passd by, and forming conjectures upon them, till my attention
got fixd upon a single object which confounded all kind of reasoning
upon him.
It was a tall figure of a philosophic serious, adust look, which
passd and repassd sedately along the street, making a turn of about
sixty paces on each side of the gate of the hotelthe man was about
fifty-twohad a small cane under his armwas dressd in a dark
drab-colourd coat, waistcoat, and breeches, which seemd to have
seen some years servicethey were still clean, and there was a little
air of frugal propret throughout him. By his pulling off his hat, and
his attitude of accosting a good many in his way, I saw he was asking
charity; so I got a sous or two out of my pocket ready to give him, as
he took me in his turnhe passd by me without asking any thing
and yet did not go five steps further before he askd charity of a little
womanI was much more likely to have given of the twoHe had
scarce done with the woman, when he pulld off his hat to another
who was coming the same way.An ancient gentleman came
slowlyand, after him, a young smart oneHe let them both pass,
and askd nothing: I stood observing him half an hour, in which time
he had made a dozen turns backwards and forwards, and found that
he invariably pursued the same plan.
There were two things very singular in this, which set my brain to
work, and to no purposethe first was, why the man should only tell
VOL. II 67
his story to the sexand secondlywhat kind of story it was, and
what species of eloquence it could be, which softend the hearts of
the women, which he knew twas to no purpose to practise upon the
men.
There were two other circumstances which entangled this mys-
terythe one was, he told every woman what he had to say in her
ear, and in a way which had much more the air of a secret than a peti-
tionthe other was, it was always successfulhe never stoppd a
woman, but she pulld out her purse, and immediately gave him
something.
I could form no system to explain the phenomenon.
I had got a riddle to amuse me for the rest of the evening, so I
walkd up stairs to my chamber.
THE CASE OF CONSCI ENCE.
PARI S.
I
WAS immediately followed up by the master of the hotel, who came
into my room to tell me I must provide lodgings elsewhere.How
so, friend? said I.He answerd, I had had a young woman lockd up
with me two hours that evening in my bed-chamber, and twas
against the rules of his house.Very well, said I, well all part
friends thenfor the girl is no worseand I am no worseand you
will be just as I found you.It was enough, he said, to overthrow
the credit of his hotel.Voyez vous, Monsieur, said he, pointing to
the foot of the bed we had been sitting upon.I own it had some-
thing of the appearance of an evidence; but my pride not suffering
me to enter into any detail of the case, I exhorted him to let his soul
sleep in peace, as I resolved to let mine do that night, and that I
would discharge what I owed him at breakfast.
I should not have minded, Monsieur, said he, if you had had
twenty girlsTis a score more, replied I, interrupting him, than I
ever reckond uponProvided, added he, it had been but in a morn-
ing.And does the difference of the time of the day at Paris make
a difference in the sin?It made a difference, he said, in the
scandal.I like a good distinction in my heart; and cannot say I
was intolerably out of temper with the man.I own it is necessary,
672 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
re-assumed the master of the hotel, that a stranger at Paris should
have the opportunities presented to him of buying lace and silk
stockings and ruffles, et tout celaand tis nothing if a woman
comes with a band box.O my conscience, said I, she had one;
but I never lookd into it.Then, Monsieur, said he, has bought
nothing.Not one earthly thing, replied I.Because, said he, I
could recommend one to you who would use you en conscience.
But I must see her this night, said I.He made me a low bow and
walkd down.
Now shall I triumph over this maitre dhotel, cried Iand what
then?Then I shall let him see I know he is a dirty fellow.And
what then?What then!I was too near myself to say it was for the
sake of others.I had no good answer leftthere was more of
spleen than principle in my project, and I was sick of it before the
execution.
In a few minutes the Grisset came in with her box of laceIll buy
nothing however, said I, within myself.
The Grisset would shew me every thingI was hard to please:
she would not seem to see it; she opend her little magazine, laid all
her laces one after another before meunfolded and folded them up
again one by one with the most patient sweetnessI might buyor
notshe would let me have every thing at my own pricethe poor
creature seemd anxious to get a penny; and laid herself out to win
me, and not so much in a manner which seemd artful, as in one I felt
simple and caressing.
If there is not a fund of honest cullibility in man, so much the
worsemy heart relented, and I gave up my second resolution as
quietly as the firstWhy should I chastise one for the trespass of
another? if thou art tributary to this tyrant of an host, thought I,
looking up in her face, so much harder is thy bread.
If I had not had more than four Louis dors in my purse, there was
no such thing as rising up and shewing her the door, till I had first
laid three of them out in a pair of ruffles.
The master of the hotel will share the profit with herno
matterthen I have only paid as many a poor soul has paid before
me for an act he could not do, or think of.
VOL. II 673
THE RI DDLE.
PARI S.
W
HEN La Fleur came up to wait upon me at supper, he told me
how sorry the master of the hotel was for his affront to me in
bidding me change my lodgings.
A man who values a good nights rest will not lay down with
enmity in his heart if he can help itSo I bid La Fleur tell the
master of the hotel, that I was sorry on my side for the occasion I had
given himand you may tell him, if you will, La Fleur, added I, that
if the young woman should call again, I shall not see her.
This was a sacrifice not to him, but myself, having resolved, after
so narrow an escape, to run no more risks, but to leave Paris, if it was
possible, with all the virtue I enterd in.
Cest deroger noblesse, Monsieur, said La Fleur, making me a bow
down to the ground as he said itEt encore Monsieur, said he, may
change his sentimentsand if (par hazard) he should like to amuse
himselfI find no amusement in it, said I, interrupting him
Mon Dieu! said La Fleurand took away.
In an hours time he came to put me to bed, and was more than
commonly officioussomething hung upon his lips to say to me, or
ask me, which he could not get off: I could not conceive what it was;
and indeed gave myself little trouble to find it out, as I had another
riddle so much more interesting upon my mind, which was that of
the mans asking charity before the door of the hotelI would have
given any thing to have got to the bottom of it; and that, not out of
curiositytis so low a principle of enquiry, in general, I would not
purchase the gratification of it with a two-sous piecebut a secret, I
thought, which so soon and so certainly softend the heart of every
woman you came near, was a secret at least equal to the philosophers
stone: had I had both the Indies, I would have given up one to have
been master of it.
I tossd and turnd it almost all night long in my brains to no
manner of purpose; and when I awoke in the morning, I found my
spirit as much troubled with my dreams, as ever the king of Babylon
had been with his; and I will not hesitate to affirm, it would have
puzzled all the wise men of Paris, as much as those of Chaldea, to
have given its interpretation.
674 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
LE DI MANCHE.
PARI S.
I
T was Sunday; and when La Fleur came in, in the morning, with my
coffee and role and butter, he had got himself so gallantly arrayd, I
scarce knew him.
I had covenanted at Montriul to give him a new hat with a silver
button and loop, and four Louis dors pour sadoniser, when we got to
Paris; and the poor fellow, to do him justice, had done wonders with
it.
He had bought a bright, clean, good scarlet coat and a pair of
breeches of the sameThey were not a crown worse, he said, for the
wearingI wishd him hangd for telling methey lookd so fresh,
that tho I knew the thing could not be done, yet I would rather have
imposed upon my fancy with thinking I had bought them new for
the fellow, than that they had come out of the Rue de friperie.
This is a nicety which makes not the heart sore at Paris.
He had purchased moreover a handsome blue sattin waistcoat,
fancifully enough embroideredthis was indeed something the
worse for the services it had done, but twas clean scourdthe gold
had been touchd up, and upon the whole was rather showy than
otherwiseand as the blue was not violent, it suited with the coat
and breeches very well: he had squeezd out of the money, moreover,
a new bag and a solitaire; and had insisted with the fripier, upon a
gold pair of garters to his breeches kneesHe had purchased muslin
ruffles, bien brodes, with four livres of his own moneyand a pair of
white silk stockings for five moreand, to top all, nature had given
him a handsome figure, without costing him a sous.
He enterd the room thus set off, with his hair dressd in the first
stile, and with a handsome bouquet in his breastin a word, there
was that look of festivity in every thing about him, which at once put
me in mind it was Sundayand by combining both together, it
instantly struck me, that the favour he wishd to ask of me the night
before, was to spend the day, as every body in Paris spent it, besides. I
had scarce made the conjecture, when La Fleur, with infinite humil-
ity, but with a look of trust, as if I should not refuse him, beggd I
would grant him the day, pour faire le galant vis vis de sa maitresse.
Now it was the very thing I intended to do myself vis vis Mad-
ame de R * * * *I had retaind the remise on purpose for it, and it
VOL. II 675
would not have mortified my vanity to have had a servant so well
dressd as La Fleur was to have got up behind it: I never could have
worse spared him.
But we must feel, not argue in these embarrassmentsthe sons
and daughters of service part with liberty, but not with Nature in
their contracts; they are flesh and blood, and have their little vanities
and wishes in the midst of the house of bondage, as well as their
task-mastersno doubt, they have set their self-denials at a price
and their expectations are so unreasonable, that I would often disap-
point them, but that their condition puts it so much in my power to
do it.
Behold!Behold, I am thy servantdisarms me at once of the
powers of a master
Thou shalt go, La Fleur! said I.
And what mistress, La Fleur, said I, canst thou have pickd up
in so little a time at Paris? La Fleur laid his hand upon his breast, and
said twas a petite demoiselle at Monsieur Le Compte de B * * * *s.La
Fleur had a heart made for society; and, to speak the truth of him let
as few occasions slip him as his masterso that some how or other;
but howheaven knowshe had connected himself with the
demoiselle upon the landing of the stair-case, during the time I was
taken up with my Passport; and as there was time enough for me to
win the Count to my interest, La Fleur had contrived to make it do
to win the maid to histhe family, it seems, was to be at Paris that
day, and he had made a party with her, and two or three more of the
Counts houshold, upon the boulevards.
Happy people! that once a week at least are sure to lay down all
your cares together; and dance and sing and sport away the weights of
grievance, which bow down the spirit of other nations to the earth.
THE FRAGMENT.
PARI S.
L
A Fleur had left me something to amuse myself with for the day
more than I had bargaind for, or could have enterd either into his
head or mine.
He had brought the little print of butter upon a currant leaf; and
676 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
as the morning was warm, and he had a good step to bring it, he had
beggd a sheet of waste paper to put betwixt the currant leaf and his
handAs that was plate sufficient, I bad him lay it upon the table as
it was, and as I resolved to stay within all day I ordered him to call
upon the traiteur to bespeak my dinner, and leave me to breakfast by
myself.
When I had finishd the butter, I threw the currant leaf out of the
window, and was going to do the same by the waste paperbut
stopping to read a line first, and that drawing me on to a second and
thirdI thought it better worth; so I shut the window, and drawing a
chair up to it, I sat down to read it.
It was in the old French of Rabelaiss time, and for ought I know
might have been wrote by himit was moreover in a Gothic letter,
and that so faded and gone off by damps and length of time, it cost
me infinite trouble to make any thing of itI threw it down; and
then wrote a letter to Eugeniusthen I took it up again, and
embroiled my patience with it afreshand then to cure that, I wrote
a letter to Eliza.Still it kept hold of me; and the difficulty of
understanding it increased but the desire.
I got my dinner; and after I had enlightened my mind with a bottle
of Burgundy, I at it againand after two or three hours poring upon
it, with almost as deep attention as ever Gruter or Jacob Spon did
upon a nonsensical inscription, I thought I made sense of it; but to
make sure of it, the best way, I imagined, was to turn it into English,
and see how it would look thenso I went on leisurely, as a trifling
man does, sometimes writing a sentencethen taking a turn or
twoand then looking how the world went, out of the window; so
that it was nine oclock at night before I had done itI then begun
and read it as follows.
THE FRAGMENT.
PARI S.
Now as the notarys wife disputed the point with the notary
with too much heatI wish, said the notary, throwing down the
parchment, that there was another notary here only to set down and
attest all this
VOL. II 677
And what would you do then, Monsieur? said she, rising hastily
upthe notarys wife was a little fume of a woman, and the notary
thought it well to avoid a hurricane by a mild replyI would go,
answerd he, to bed.You may go to the devil, answerd the
notarys wife.
Now there happening to be but one bed in the house, the other
two rooms being unfurnishd, as is the custom at Paris, and the
notary not caring to lie in the same bed with a woman who had but
that moment sent him pell-mell to the devil, went forth with his hat
and cane and short cloak, the night being very windy, and walkd out
ill at ease towards the pont neuf.
Of all the bridges which ever were built, the whole world who
have passd over the pont neuf, must own, that it is the noblestthe
finestthe grandestthe lightestthe longestthe broadest that
ever conjoind land and land together upon the face of the terraqueous
globe
By this, it seems, as if the author of the fragment
had not been a Frenchman.
The worst fault which divines and the doctors of the Sorbonne
can allege against it, is, that if there is but a cap-full of wind in or
about Paris, tis more blasphemously sacre Dieud there than in any
other aperture of the whole cityand with reason, good and cogent
Messieurs; for it comes against you without crying garde deau, and
with such unpremeditable puffs, that of the few who cross it with
their hats on, not one in fifty but hazards two livres and a half, which
is its full worth.
The poor notary, just as he was passing by the sentry, instinctively
clappd his cane to the side of it, but in raising it up the point of his
cane catching hold of the loop of the sentinels hat hoisted it over the
spikes of the ballustrade clear into the Seine
Tis an ill wind, said a boatsman, who catchd it, which blows no
body any good.
The sentry being a gascon incontinently twirld up his whiskers,
and levelld his harquebuss.
Harquebusses in those days went off with matches; and an old
womans paper lanthorn at the end of the bridge happening to be
blown out, she had borrowd the sentrys match to light itit gave a
moments time for the gascons blood to run cool, and turn the
678 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
accident better to his advantageTis an ill wind, said he, catching
off the notarys castor, and legitimating the capture with the boat-
mans adage.
The poor notary crossd the bridge, and passing along the rue de
Dauphine into the fauxbourgs of St. Germain, lamented himself as
he walkd along in this manner:
Luckless man! that I am, said the notary, to be the sport of hurri-
canes all my daysto be born to have the storm of ill language
levelld against me and my profession wherever I goto be forced
into marriage by the thunder of the church to a tempest of a
womanto be driven forth out of my house by domestic winds, and
despoild of my castor by pontific onesto be here, bare-headed, in
a windy night at the mercy of the ebbs and flows of accidents
where am I to lay my head?miserable man! what wind in the two-
and-thirty points of the whole compass can blow unto thee, as it does
to the rest of thy fellow creatures, good!
As the notary was passing on by a dark passage, complaining in
this sort, a voice calld out to a girl, to bid her run for the next
notarynow the notary being the next, and availing himself of his
situation, walkd up the passage to the door, and passing through an
old sort of a saloon, was usherd into a large chamber dismantled of
every thing but a long military pikea breast platea rusty old
sword, and bandoleer, hung up equi-distant in four different places
against the wall.
An old personage, who had heretofore been a gentleman, and
unless decay of fortune taints the blood along with it was a gentle-
man at that time, lay supporting his head upon his hand in his bed; a
little table with a taper burning was set close beside it, and close by
the table was placed a chairthe notary sat him down in it; and
pulling out his ink-horn and a sheet or two of paper which he had in
his pocket, he placed them before him, and dipping his pen in his
ink, and leaning his breast over the table, he disposed every thing to
make the gentlemans last will and testament.
Alas! Monsieur le Notaire, said the gentleman, raising himself up
a little, I have nothing to bequeath which will pay the expence of
bequeathing, except the history of myself, which, I could not die in
peace unless I left it as a legacy to the world; the profits arising out of
it, I bequeath to you for the pains of taking it from meit is a story
so uncommon, it must be read by all mankindit will make the
VOL. II 679
fortunes of your housethe notary dippd his pen into his ink-
hornAlmighty director of every event in my life! said the old
gentleman, looking up earnestly and raising his hands towards
heaventhou whose hand has led me on through such a labyrinth of
strange passages down into this scene of desolation, assist the decay-
ing memory of an old, infirm, and broken-hearted mandirect my
tongue, by the spirit of thy eternal truth, that this stranger may set
down naught but what is written in that BOOK, from whose records,
said he, clasping his hands together, I am to be condemnd or acquit-
ted!the notary held up the point of his pen betwixt the taper
and his eye
It is a story, Monsieur le Notaire, said the gentleman, which
will rouse up every affection in natureit will kill the humane, and
touch the heart of cruelty herself with pity
The notary was inflamed with a desire to begin, and put his pen
a third time into his ink-hornand the old gentleman turning a
little more towards the notary, began to dictate his story in these
words
And where is the rest of it, La Fleur? said I, as he just then
enterd the room.
THE FRAGMENT
AND THE *BOUQUET.
PARI S.
W
HEN La Fleur came up close to the table, and was made to
comprehend what I wanted, he told me there were only two
other sheets of it which he had wrapt round the stalks of a bouquet to
keep it together, which he had presented to the demoiselle upon the
boulevardsThen, prithee, La Fleur, said I, step back to her to the
Count de B * * * *s hotel, and see if you canst getThere is no doubt
of it, said La Fleurand away he flew.
In a very little time the poor fellow came back quite out of breath,
with deeper marks of disappointment in his looks than could arise
from the simple irreparability of the fragmentJuste ciel ! in less
* Nosegay.
680 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
than two minutes that the poor fellow had taken his last tender
farewel of herhis faithless mistress had given his gage damour to
one of the Counts footmenthe footman to a young sempstress
and the sempstress to a fiddler, with my fragment at the end of it
Our misfortunes were involved togetherI gave a sighand La
Fleur echod it back again to my ear
How perfidious! cried La FleurHow unlucky! said I.
I should not have been mortified, Monsieur, quoth La Fleur, if
she had lost itNor I, La Fleur, said I, had I found it.
Whether I did or no, will be seen hereafter.
THE ACT OF CHARI TY.
PARI S.
T
HE man who either disdains or fears to walk up a dark entry may
be an excellent good man, and fit for a hundred things; but he will
not do to make a good sentimental traveller. I count little of the many
things I see pass at broad noon day, in large and open streets.
Nature is shy, and hates to act before spectators; but in such an
unobserved corner, you sometimes see a single short scene of hers
worth all the sentiments of a dozen French plays compounded
togetherand yet they are absolutely fine;and whenever I have a
more brilliant affair upon my hands than common, as they suit a
preacher just as well as a hero, I generally make my sermon out of
emand for the textCapadosia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and
Pamphiliais as good as any one in the Bible.
There is a long dark passage issuing out from the opera comique
into a narrow street; tis trod by a few who humbly wait for a fiacre*,
or wish to get off quietly ofoot when the opera is done. At the end of
it, towards the theatre, tis lighted by a small candle, the light of
which is almost lost before you get half-way down, but near the
doortis more for ornament than use: you see it as a fixd star of
the least magnitude; it burnsbut does little good to the world, that
we know of.
In returning along this passage, I discernd, as I approachd
* Hackney-coach.
VOL. II 68
within five or six paces of the door, two ladies standing arm in arm,
with their backs against the wall, waiting, as I imagined, for a
fiacreas they were next the door, I thought they had a prior right;
so edged myself up within a yard or little more of them, and quietly
took my standI was in black, and scarce seen.
The lady next me was a tall lean figure of a woman of about thirty-
six; the other of the same size and make, of about forty; there was no
mark of wife or widow in any one part of either of themthey
seemd to be two upright vestal sisters, unsappd by caresses,
unbroke in upon by tender salutations: I could have wishd to have
made them happytheir happiness was destind, that night, to come
from another quarter.
A low voice, with a good turn of expression, and sweet cadence at
the end of it, beggd for a twelve-sous piece betwixt them, for the
love of heaven. I thought it singular, that a beggar should fix the
quota of an almsand that the sum should be twelve times as much
as what is usually given in the dark. They both seemed astonishd at
it as much as myself.Twelve sous! said onea twelve-sous piece!
said the otherand made no reply.
The poor man said, He knew not how to ask less of ladies of their
rank; and bowd down his head to the ground.
Poo! said theywe have no money.
The beggar remained silent for a moment or two, and renewd his
supplication.
Do not, my fair young ladies, said he, stop your good ears against
meUpon my word, honest man! said the younger, we have no
changeThen God bless you, said the poor man, and multiply
those joys which you can give to others without change!I
observed the elder sister put her hand into her pocketIll see,
said she, if I have a sous.A sous! give twelve, said the suppli-
cant; Nature has been bountiful to you, be bountiful to a poor
man.
I would, friend, with all my heart, said the younger, if I had it.
My fair charitable! said he, addressing himself to the elderWhat
is it but your goodness and humanity which makes your bright eyes
so sweet, that they outshine the morning even in this dark passage?
and what was it which made the Marquis de Santerre and his brother
say so much of you both as they just passd by?
The two ladies seemed much affected; and impulsively at the same
682 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
time they both put their hands into their pocket, and each took out a
twelve-sous piece.
The contest betwixt them and the poor supplicant was no more
it was continued betwixt themselves, which of the two should give
the twelve-sous piece in charityand to end the dispute, they both
gave it together, and the man went away.
THE RI DDLE EXPLAI NED.
PARI S.
I
Steppd hastily after him: it was the very man whose success in
asking charity of the women before the door of the hotel had so
puzzled meand I found at once his secret, or at least the basis of
ittwas flattery.
Delicious essence! how refreshing art thou to nature! how strongly
are all its powers and all its weaknesses on thy side! how sweetly dost
thou mix with the blood, and help it through the most difficult and
tortuous passages to the heart!
The poor man, as he was not straightend for time, had given it
here in a larger dose: tis certain he had a way of bringing it into less
form, for the many sudden cases he had to do with in the streets; but
how he contrived to correct, sweeten, concentre, and qualify itI
vex not my spirit with the inquiryit is enough, the beggar gaind
two twelve-sous piecesand they can best tell the rest, who have
gaind much greater matters by it.
PARI S.
W
E get forwards in the world not so much by doing services, as
receiving them: you take a withering twig, and put it in the
ground; and then you water it, because you have planted it.
Mons. Le Compte de B * * * *, merely because he had done me one
kindness in the affair of my passport, would go on and do me
another, the few days he was at Paris, in making me known to a few
people of rank; and they were to present me to others, and so on.
VOL. II 683
I had got master of my secret, just in time to turn these honours to
some little account; otherwise, as is commonly the case, I should
have dind or suppd a single time or two round, and then by translat-
ing French looks and attitudes into plain English, I should presently
have seen, that I had got hold of the couvert* of some more entertain-
ing guest; and in course, should have resigned all my places one after
another, merely upon the principle that I could not keep them.As
it was, things did not go much amiss.
I had the honour of being introduced to the old Marquis de B * * * *:
in days of yore he had signalizd himself by some small feats of
chivalry in the Cour damour, and had dressd himself out to the idea
of tilts and tournaments ever sincethe Marquis de B * * * * wishd to
have it thought the affair was somewhere else than in his brain. He
could like to take a trip to England, and askd much of the English
ladies. Stay where you are, I beseech you, Mons. le Marquis, said
ILes Messrs. Anglois can scarce get a kind look from them as it
is.The Marquis invited me to supper.
Mons. P * * * * the farmer-general was just as inquisitive about our
taxes.They were very considerable, he heardIf we knew but how
to collect them, said I, making him a low bow.
I could never have been invited to Mons. P * * * *s concerts upon
any other terms.
I had been misrepresented to Madame de Q * * * as an esprit
Madame de Q * * * was an esprit herself; she burnt with impatience to
see me, and hear me talk. I had not taken my seat, before I saw she
did not care a sous whether I had any wit or noI was let in, to be
convinced she had.I call heaven to witness I never once opend the
door of my lips.
Madame de Q * * * vowd to every creature she met, She had never
had a more improving conversation with a man in her life.
There are three epochas in the empire of a French-womanShe
is coquettethen deistthen devte: the empire during these is
never lostshe only changes her subjects: when thirty-five years
and more have unpeopled her dominions of the slaves of love, she re-
peoples it with slaves of infidelityand then with the slaves of the
Church.
Madame de V * * * was vibrating betwixt the first of these epochas:
* Plate, napkin, knife, fork, and spoon.
684 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
the colour of the rose was shading fast awayshe ought to have been
a deist five years before the time I had the honour to pay my first
visit.
She placed me upon the same sopha with her, for the sake of
disputing the point of religion more closely.In short, Madame de
V * * * told me she believed nothing.
I told Madame de V * * * it might be her principle; but I was sure it
could not be her interest to level the outworks, without which I could
not conceive how such a citadel as hers could be defendedthat
there was not a more dangerous thing in the world, than for a beauty
to be a deistthat it was a debt I owed my creed, not to conceal it
from herthat I had not been five minutes sat upon the sopha
besides her, but I had begun to form designsand what is it, but the
sentiments of religion, and the persuasion they had existed in her
breast, which could have checkd them as they rose up.
We are not adamant, said I, taking hold of her handand there is
need of all restraints, till age in her own time steals in and lays them
on usbut, my dear lady, said I, kissing her handtis tootoo
soon
I declare I had the credit all over Paris of unperverting Madame
de V * * *.She affirmed to Mons. D * * * and the Abbe M * * *, that in
one half hour I had said more for revealed religion, than all their
Encyclopedia had said against itI was listed directly into Madame
de V * * *s Coterieand she put off the epocha of deism for two
years.
I remember it was in this Coterie, in the middle of a discourse, in
which I was shewing the necessity of a first cause, that the young
Count de Faineant took me by the hand to the furthest corner of the
room, to tell me my solitaire was pinnd too strait about my neckIt
should be plus badinant, said the Count, looking down upon his
ownbut a word, Mons. Yorick, to the wise
And from the wise, Mons. Le Compte, replied I, making him a
bowis enough.
The Count de Faineant embraced me with more ardour than ever
I was embraced by mortal man.
For three weeks together, I was of every mans opinion I met.
Pardi ! ce Mons. Yorick a autant desprit que nous autres.Il raisonne
bien, said another.Cest un bon enfant, said a third.And at this
price I could have eaten and drank and been merry all the days of my
VOL. II 685
life at Paris; but twas a dishonest reckoningI grew ashamed of it
it was the gain of a slaveevery sentiment of honour revolted
against itthe higher I got, the more was I forced upon my beggarly
systemthe better the Coteriethe more children of ArtI lan-
guishd for those of Nature: and one night, after a most vile prostitu-
tion of myself to half a dozen different people, I grew sickwent to
bedorderd La Fleur to get me horses in the morning to set out for
Italy.
MARIA.
MOULI NES.
I
NEVER felt what the distress of plenty was in any one shape till
nowto travel it through the Bourbonnois, the sweetest part of
Francein the hey-day of the vintage, when Nature is pouring her
abundance into every ones lap, and every eye is lifted upa journey
through each step of which music beats time to Labour, and all her
children are rejoicing as they carry in their clustersto pass through
this with my affections flying out, and kindling at every group before
meand every one of em was pregnant with adventures.
Just heaven!it would fill up twenty volumesand alas! I have
but a few small pages left of this to croud it intoand half of these
must be taken up with the poor Maria my friend, Mr. Shandy, met
with near Moulines.
The story he had told of that disorderd maid affectd me not a
little in the reading; but when I got within the neighbourhood where
she lived, it returned so strong into my mind, that I could not resist
an impulse which prompted me to go half a league out of the road to
the village where her parents dwelt to enquire after her.
Tis going, I own, like the Knight of the Woeful Countenance, in
quest of melancholy adventuresbut I know not how it is, but I am
never so perfectly conscious of the existence of a soul within me, as
when I am entangled in them.
The old mother came to the door, her looks told me the story
before she opend her mouthShe had lost her husband; he had
died, she said, of anguish, for the loss of Marias senses about a
month before.She had feared at first, she added, that it would have
686 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
plunderd her poor girl of what little understanding was leftbut,
on the contrary, it had brought her more to herselfstill she could
not resther poor daughter, she said, crying, was wandering
somewhere about the road
Why does my pulse beat languid as I write this? and what made
La Fleur, whose heart seemd only to be tuned to joy, to pass the
back of his hand twice across his eyes, as the woman stood and told
it? I beckond to the postilion to turn back into the road.
When we had got within half a league of Moulines, at a little
opening in the road leading to a thicket, I discovered poor Maria
sitting under a poplarshe was sitting with her elbow in her lap, and
her head leaning on one side within her handa small brook ran at
the foot of the tree.
I bid the postilion go on with the chaise to Moulinesand La
Fleur to bespeak my supperand that I would walk after him.
She was dressd in white, and much as my friend described her,
except that her hair hung loose, which before was twisted within a
silk net.She had, superadded likewise to her jacket, a pale green
ribband which fell across her shoulder to the waist; at the end of
which hung her pipe.Her goat had been as faithless as her lover;
and she had got a little dog in lieu of him, which she had kept tied by
a string to her girdle; as I lookd at her dog, she drew him towards
her with the string.Thou shalt not leave me, Sylvio, said she. I
lookd in Marias eyes, and saw she was thinking more of her father
than of her lover or her little goat; for as she utterd them the tears
trickled down her cheeks.
I sat down close by her; and Maria let me wipe them away as they
fell with my handkerchief.I then steepd it in my ownand then
in hersand then in mineand then I wiped hers againand as I
did it, I felt such undescribable emotions within me, as I am sure
could not be accounted for from any combinations of matter and
motion.
I am positive I have a soul; nor can all the books with which
materialists have pesterd the world ever convince me of the
contrary.
VOL. II 687
MARIA.
W
HEN Maria had come a little to herself, I askd her if she remem-
berd a pale thin person of a man who had sat down betwixt her
and her goat about two years before? She said, she was unsettled much
at that time, but rememberd it upon two accountsthat ill as she was
she saw the person pitied her; and next, that her goat had stolen his
handkerchief, and she had beat him for the theftshe had washd it,
she said, in the brook, and kept it ever since in her pocket to restore
it to him in case she should ever see him again, which, she added, he
had half promised her. As she told me this, she took the handkerchief
out of her pocket to let me see it; she had folded it up neatly in a
couple of vine leaves, tied round with a tendrilon opening it, I saw
an S markd in one of the corners.
She had since that, she told me, strayd as far as Rome, and walkd
round St. Peters onceand returnd backthat she found her
way alone across the Apennineshad travelld over all Lombardy
without moneyand through the flinty roads of Savoy without
shoeshow she had borne it, and how she had got supported, she
could not tellbut God tempers the wind, said Maria, to the shorn
lamb.
Shorn indeed! and to the quick, said I; and wast thou in my own
land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it and shelter thee:
thou shouldst eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cupI
would be kind to thy Sylvioin all thy weaknesses and wanderings I
would seek after thee and bring thee backwhen the sun went down
I would say my prayers, and when I had done thou shouldst play thy
evening song upon thy pipe, nor would the incense of my sacrifice be
worse accepted for entering heaven along with that of a broken heart.
Nature melted within me, as I utterd this; and Maria observing,
as I took out my handkerchief, that it was steepd too much already
to be of use, would needs go wash it in the stream.And where will
you dry it, Maria? said IIll dry it in my bosom, said shetwill do
me good.
And is your heart still so warm, Maria? said I.
I touchd upon the string on which hung all her sorrowsshe
lookd with wistful disorder for some time in my face; and then,
without saying any thing, took her pipe, and playd her service to the
688 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
VirginThe string I had touchd ceased to vibratein a moment or
two Maria returned to herselflet her pipe falland rose up.
And where are you going, Maria? said I.She said to Moulines.
Let us go, said I, together.Maria put her arm within mine, and
lengthening the string, to let the dog followin that order we
entered Moulines.
MARIA.
MOULI NES.
T
HO I hate salutations and greetings in the market-place, yet when
we got into the middle of this, I stoppd to take my last look and
last farewel of Maria.
Maria, tho not tall, was nevertheless of the first order of fine
formsaffliction had touchd her looks with something that was
scarce earthlystill she was feminineand so much was there about
her of all that the heart wishes, or the eye looks for in woman, that
could the traces be ever worn out of her brain, and those of Elizas
out of mine, she should not only eat of my bread and drink of my own
cup, but Maria should lay in my bosom, and be unto me as a
daughter.
Adieu, poor luckless maiden!imbibe the oil and wine which the
compassion of a stranger, as he journieth on his way, now pours into
thy woundsthe being who has twice bruised thee can only bind
them up for ever.
THE BOURBONNOI S.
T
HERE was nothing from which I had painted out for myself so
joyous a riot of the affections, as in this journey in the vintage,
through this part of France; but pressing through this gate of sorrow
to it, my sufferings had totally unfitted me: in every scene of festivity
I saw Maria in the back-ground of the piece, sitting pensive under
her poplar; and I had got almost to Lyons before I was able to cast a
shade across her
VOL. II 689
Dear sensibility! source inexhausted of all thats precious in our
joys, or costly in our sorrows! thou chainest thy martyr down upon
his bed of strawand tis thou who lifts him up to HEAVEN
eternal fountain of our feelings!tis here I trace theeand this is
thy divinity which stirs within menot that, in some sad and
sickening moments, my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at
destructionmere pomp of words!but that I feel some generous
joys and generous cares beyond myselfall comes from thee,
greatgreat SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of
our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy
creation.Touchd with thee, Eugenius draws my curtain when I
languishhears my tale of symptoms, and blames the weather for
the disorder of his nerves. Thou givst a portion of it sometimes to
the roughest peasant who traverses the bleakest mountainshe finds
the lacerated lamb of anothers flockThis moment I behold him
leaning with his head against his crook, with piteous inclination
looking down upon itOh! had I come one moment sooner!it
bleeds to deathhis gentle heart bleeds with it
Peace to thee, generous swain!I see thou walkest off with
anguishbut thy joys shall balance itfor happy is thy cottage
and happy is the sharer of itand happy are the lambs which sport
about you.
THE SUPPER.
A
SHOE coming loose from the fore-foot of the thill-horse, at the
beginning of the ascent of mount Taurira, the postilion dis-
mounted, twisted the shoe off, and put it in his pocket; as the ascent
was of five or six miles, and that horse our main dependence, I made a
point of having the shoe fastend on again, as well as we could; but the
postilion had thrown away the nails, and the hammer in the chaise-box,
being of no great use without them, I submitted to go on.
He had not mounted half a mile higher, when coming to a flinty
piece of road, the poor devil lost a second shoe, and from off his
other fore-foot; I then got out of the chaise in good earnest; and
seeing a house about a quarter of a mile to the left-hand, with a great
deal to do, I prevailed upon the postilion to turn up to it. The look of
690 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
the house, and of every thing about it, as we drew nearer, soon
reconciled me to the disaster.It was a little farm-house surrounded
with about twenty acres of vineyard, about as much cornand close
to the house, on one side, was a potagerie of an acre and a half, full of
every thing which could make plenty in a French peasants house
and on the other side was a little wood which furnished wherewithal
to dress it. It was about eight in the evening when I got to the
houseso I left the postilion to manage his point as he couldand
for mine, I walkd directly into the house.
The family consisted of an old grey-headed man and his wife,
with five or six sons and sons-in-law and their several wives, and a
joyous genealogy out of em.
They were all sitting down together to their lentil-soup; a large
wheaten loaf was in the middle of the table; and a flaggon of wine at
each end of it promised joy thro the stages of the repasttwas a
feast of love.
The old man rose up to meet me, and with a respectful cordiality
would have me sit down at the table; my heart was sat down the
moment I enterd the room; so I sat down at once like a son of the
family; and to invest myself in the character as speedily as I could, I
instantly borrowed the old mans knife, and taking up the loaf cut
myself a hearty luncheon; and as I did it I saw a testimony in every
eye, not only of an honest welcome, but of a welcome mixd with
thanks that I had not seemd to doubt it.
Was it this; or tell me, Nature, what else it was which made this
morsel so sweetand to what magick I owe it, that the draught I
took of their flaggon was so delicious with it, that they remain upon
my palate to this hour?
If the supper was to my tastethe grace which followd it was
much more so.
THE GRACE.
W
HEN supper was over, the old man gave a knock upon the table
with the haft of his knifeto bid them prepare for the dance:
the moment the signal was given, the women and girls ran all together
into a back apartment to tye up their hairand the young men to the
VOL. II 69
door to wash their faces, and change their sabots; and in three min-
utes every soul was ready upon a little esplanade before the house to
beginThe old man and his wife came out last, and, placing me
betwixt them, sat down upon a sopha of turf by the door.
The old man had some fifty years ago been no mean performer
upon the vielleand at the age he was then of, touchd it well
enough for the purpose. His wife sung now-and-then a little to the
tunethen intermittedand joined her old man again as their
children and grand-children danced before them.
It was not till the middle of the second dance, when, from some
pauses in the movement wherein they all seemed to look up, I fancied
I could distinguish an elevation of spirit different from that which is
the cause or the effect of simple jollity.In a word, I thought I
beheld Religion mixing in the dancebut as I had never seen her so
engaged, I should have lookd upon it now, as one of the illusions of
an imagination which is eternally misleading me, had not the old
man, as soon as the dance ended, said, that this was their constant
way; and that all his life long he had made it a rule, after supper was
over, to call out his family to dance and rejoice; believing, he said,
that a chearful and contented mind was the best sort of thanks to
heaven that an illiterate peasant could pay
Or a learned prelate either, said I.
THE CASE OF DELI CACY.
W
HEN you have gained the top of mount Taurira, you run
presently down to Lyonsadieu then to all rapid movements!
Tis a journey of caution; and it fares better with sentiments, not to be
in a hurry with them; so I contracted with a Voiturin to take his time
with a couple of mules, and convey me in my own chaise safe to Turin
through Savoy.
Poor, patient, quiet, honest people! fear not; your poverty, the
treasury of your simple virtues, will not be envied you by the world,
nor will your vallies be invaded by it.Nature! in the midst of thy
disorders, thou art still friendly to the scantiness thou hast created
with all thy great works about thee, little hast thou left to give, either
to the scithe or to the sicklebut to that little, thou grantest
692 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
safety and protection; and sweet are the dwellings which stand so
shelterd.
Let the way-worn traveller vent his complaints upon the sudden
turns and dangers of your roadsyour rocksyour precipicesthe
difficulties of getting upthe horrors of getting downmountains
impracticableand cataracts, which roll down great stones from
their summits, and block his road up.The peasants had been all
day at work in removing a fragment of this kind between St. Michael
and Madane; and by the time my Voiturin got to the place, it wanted
full two hours of compleating before a passage could any how be
gaind: there was nothing but to wait with patiencetwas a wet and
tempestuous night; so that by the delay, and that together, the Voi-
turin found himself obliged to take up five miles short of his stage at
a little decent kind of an inn by the road side.
I forthwith took possession of my bed-chambergot a good
fireorderd supper; and was thanking heaven it was no worse
when a voiture arrived with a lady in it and her servant-maid.
As there was no other bed-chamber in the house, the hostess,
without much nicety, led them into mine, telling them, as she ush-
erd them in, that there was no body in it but an English gentle-
manthat there were two good beds in it, and a closet within the
room which held anotherthe accent in which she spoke of this
third bed did not say much for ithowever, she said, there were
three beds, and but three peopleand she durst say, the gentleman
would do any thing to accommodate matters.I left not the lady a
moment to make a conjecture about itso instantly made a declar-
ation I would do any thing in my power.
As this did not amount to an absolute surrender of my bed-
chamber, I still felt myself so much the proprietor, as to have a right
to do the honours of itso I desired the lady to sit downpressed
her into the warmest seatcalld for more wooddesired the host-
ess to enlarge the plan of the supper, and to favour us with the very
best wine.
The lady had scarce warmd herself five minutes at the fire, before
she began to turn her head back, and give a look at the beds; and the
oftener she cast her eyes that way, the more they returnd per-
plexdI felt for herand for myself; for in a few minutes, what by
her looks, and the case itself, I found myself as much embarrassed as
it was possible the lady could be herself.
VOL. II 693
That the beds we were to lay in were in one and the same room,
was enough simply by itself to have excited all thisbut the position
of them, for they stood parallel, and so very close to each other as
only to allow space for a small wicker chair betwixt them, renderd
the affair still more oppressive to usthey were fixed up moreover
near the fire, and the projection of the chimney on one side, and a
large beam which crossd the room on the other, formd a kind of
recess for them that was no way favourable to the nicety of our sensa-
tionsif any thing could have added to it, it was, that the two beds
were both of em so very small, as to cut us off from every idea of the
lady and the maid lying together; which in either of them, could it
have been feasible, my lying besides them, tho a thing not to be
wishd, yet there was nothing in it so terrible which the imagination
might not have passd over without torment.
As for the little room within, it offerd little or no consolation to
us; twas a damp cold closet, with a half dismantled window shutter,
and with a window which had neither glass or oil paper in it to keep
out the tempest of the night. I did not endeavour to stifle my cough
when the lady gave a peep into it; so it reduced the case in course to
this alternativethat the lady should sacrifice her health to her feel-
ings, and take up with the closet herself, and abandon the bed next
mine to her maidor that the girl should take the closet, &c. &c.
The lady was a Piedmontese of about thirty, with a glow of health
in her cheeks.The maid was a Lyonoise of twenty, and as brisk and
lively a French girl as ever moved.There were difficulties every
wayand the obstacle of the stone in the road, which brought us
into the distress, great as it appeared whilst the peasants were remov-
ing it, was but a pebble to what lay in our ways nowI have only to
add, that it did not lessen the weight which hung upon our spirits,
that we were both too delicate to communicate what we felt to each
other upon the occasion.
We sat down to supper; and had we not had more generous wine
to it than a little inn in Savoy could have furnishd, our tongues had
been tied up, till necessity herself had set them at libertybut the
lady having a few bottles of Burgundy in her voiture sent down her
Fille de Chambre for a couple of them; so that by the time supper
was over, and we were left alone, we felt ourselves inspired with a
strength of mind sufficient to talk, at least, without reserve upon our
situation. We turnd it every way, and debated and considered it in
694 A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
all kind of lights in the course of a two hours negociation; at the end
of which the articles were settled finally betwixt us, and stipulated
for in form and manner of a treaty of peaceand I believe with as
much religion and good faith on both sides, as in any treaty which as
yet had the honour of being handed down to posterity.
They were as follows:
First. As the right of the bed-chamber is in Monsieurand he
thinking the bed next to the fire to be the warmest, he insists upon
the concession on the ladys side of taking up with it.
Granted, on the part of Madame; with a proviso, That as the
curtains of that bed are of a flimsy transparent cotton, and appear
likewise too scanty to draw close, that the Fille de Chambre, shall
fasten up the opening, either by corking pins, or needle and thread,
in such manner as shall be deemed a sufficient barrier on the side of
Monsieur.
2dly. It is required on the part of Madame, that Monsieur shall lay
the whole night through in his robe de chambre.
Rejected: inasmuch as Monsieur is not worth a robe de chambre;
he having nothing in his portmanteau but six shirts and a black silk
pair of breeches.
The mentioning the silk pair of breeches made an entire change of
the articlefor the breeches were accepted as an equivalent for the
robe de chambre, and so it was stipulated and agreed upon that I
should lay in my black silk breeches all night.
3dly. It was insisted upon, and stipulated for by the lady, that
after Monsieur was got to bed, and the candle and fire extin-
guished, that Monsieur should not speak one single word the whole
night.
Granted; provided Monsieurs saying his prayers might not be
deemd an infraction of the treaty.
There was but one point forgot in this treaty, and that was the
manner in which the lady and myself should be obliged to undress
and get to bedthere was but one way of doing it, and that I leave to
the reader to devise; protesting as I do it, that if it is not the most
delicate in nature, tis the fault of his own imaginationagainst
which this is not my first complaint.
Now when we were got to bed, whether it was the novelty of the
situation, or what it was, I know not; but so it was, I could not shut
my eyes; I tried this side and that, and turnd and turnd again, till a
VOL. II 695
full hour after midnight; when Nature and patience both wearing
outO my God! said I
You have broke the treaty, Monsieur, said the lady, who had no
more slept than myself.I beggd a thousand pardonsbut insisted
it was no more than an ejaculationshe maintaind twas an entire
infraction of the treatyI maintaind it was provided for in the
clause of the third article.
The lady would by no means give up her point, tho she weakened
her barrier by it; for in the warmth of the dispute, I could hear two or
three corking pins fall out of the curtain to the ground.
Upon my word and honour, Madame, said Istretching my arm
out of bed, by way of asseveration
(I was going to have added, that I would not have trespassd
against the remotest idea of decorum for the world)
But the Fille de Chambre hearing there were words between us,
and fearing that hostilities would ensue in course, had crept silently
out of her closet, and it being totally dark, had stolen so close to our
beds, that she had got herself into the narrow passage which separ-
ated them, and had advancd so far up as to be in a line betwixt her
mistress and me
So that when I stretchd out my hand, I caught hold of the Fille de
Chambres
END OF VOL. II.
L A U R E N C E S T E R N E
T h e L i f e a n d O p i n i o n s o f T r i s t r a m S h a n d y ,
G e n t l e m a n A S e n t i m e n t a l J o u r n e y
T h r o u g h F r a n c e a n d I t a l y