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CBjc Jltbrtsnp HE LIFE
*■ OPINIONS of

TRISTRAM SHANDY

Gentleman. ^ fa fa fa fa By

LAURENCE STERNE

Edited by GEORGE SAINTSBURY

with

Illustrations by E. J. WHEELER

In three Volumes.

Volume the third.

London J. M. DENT fc? CO.
Aldine House, 29 & 30 Bedford Street
Philadelphia : J. B. LIPPINCOTT
COMPANY mdccccFirst Edition, June 1S94
Second Edition, December 4897
Third Edition, January 1900THE WORKS OF LAURENCE STERNE

EDITED BY

GEORGE SAINTSBURY

IN SIX VOLUMES
VOL. III.

TRISTRAM SHANDY

VOL. III.<823,

$>t
|<\00
>M

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

She took them from her curls, and put them

gravely one by one into my hat. Frontispiece

" I protest, Madam, I can see nothing what-
ever in your eye" . . . Page 154

I sprung out of the chaise to help her „ 212THE

LIFE AND OPINIONS

of

TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gent.

BOOK VI.—continued.

Chapter %iiu

LE Fever got up to the Imperial army just time
enough to try what metal his sword was made
of, at the defeat of the Turks before Belgrade ;
but a series of unmerited mischances had pursued him
from that moment, and trod close upon his heels for
four years together after; he had withstood these
bufferings to the last, till sickness overtook him at
Marseilles, from whence he wrote my uncle Toby
word, he had lost his time, his services, his health,

and, in short, every thing but his sword;-and was

waiting for the first ship to return back to him.

As this letter came to hand about six weeks before
Susannah's accident, Le Fever was hourly expected;
and was uppermost in my uncle Toby's mind all the
hi.	a2

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

time my father was giving him and Yorick a descrip-
tion 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 forebore mentioning Le Fever's name,

-till the character, by Yorick's interposition, ending

unexpectedly, in one, who should be gentle-tempered,
and generous, and good, it impressed the image of
Le Fever, and his interest, upon my uncle Toby so
forcibly, he rose instantly off his chair; and laying
down his pipe, in order to take hold of both my father's

hands-1 beg, brother Shandy, said my uncle Toby,

I may recommend poor Le Fever s son to you-

I beseech you do, added Yorick-He has a good

heart, said my uncle Toby—:—And a brave one too,
an' please your honour, said the corporal.

-The best hearts, Trim, are ever the bravest, re-
plied my uncle Toby.-And the greatest cowards,

an' please your honour, in our regiment, were the greatest

rascals in it.-There was serjeant Kumber, and

ensign-

-We'll talk of them, said my father, another

time.

-«3RSs9-

Cftapttr j;tk

WHAT a jovial and a merry world would this
be, may it please your worships, but for that
inextricable labyrinth of debts, cares, woes,
want, grief, discontent, melancholy, large jointures,
impositions, and lies!

Doctor Slop, like a son of a w-, as my father

called him for it,—to exalt himself,—debased me to
death,—and made ten thousand times more of Susannah's
accident, than there was any grounds for; so that in aOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

3

week's time, or less, it was in every body's mouth,
That poor Master Shandy * * * * *
******* entirely.——
And Fame, who loves to double every thing,—in three
days more, had sworn, positively she saw it,—and all
the world, as usual, gave credit to her evidence-

" That the nursery window had not only * *
* * ***** * *

*	* * .-but that * * * *

** ***** **

*	* * * 's also."

Could the world have been sued like a body-
corporate,—my father had brought an action upon
the case, and trounced it sufficiently; but to fall foul

of individuals about it-as every soul who had

mentioned the affair, did it with the greatest pity

imaginable;-'twas like flying in the very face of

his best friends:-And yet to acquiesce under the

report, in silence—was to acknowledge it openly,—
at least in the opinion of one half of the world; and
to make a bustle again, in contradicting it,—was to
confirm it as strongly in the opinion of the other
half.-

-Was ever poor devil of a country gentleman so

hampered ? said my father.

I would shew him publickly, said my uncle Toby9 at
the market cross.

-'Twill have no effect, said my father.

SD&apier

-I'll put him, however, into breeches, said my

father,—let the world say what it will.4

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

C&apter j;bn

THERE are a thousand resolutions, Sir, both in
church and state, as well as in matters, Madam,
of a more private concern;—which, though
they have carried all the appearance in the world of
being taken, and entered upon in a hasty, hare-brained,
and unadvised manner, were, notwithstanding this (and
could you or I have got into the cabinet, or stood behind
the curtain, we should have found it was so), weighed,

poized, and perpended-argued upon-canvassed

through-entered into, and examined on all sides

with so much coolness, that the goddess of coolness
herself (I do not take upon me to prove her existence)
could neither have wished it, or done it better.

Of the number of these was my father's resolution
of putting me into breeches ; which, though determined
at once,—in a kind of huff, and a defiance of all man-
kind, had, nevertheless, been pro*d and conn d, and
judicially talked over betwixt him and my mother about
a month before, in two several beds of justice, which my
father had held for that purpose. I shall explain the
nature of these beds of justice in my next chapter; and
in the chapter following that, you shall step with me,
Madam, behind the curtain, only to hear in what kind
of manner my father and my mother debated between
themselves, this affair of the breeches,—from which
you may form an idea, how they debated all lesser
matters.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

5

THE ancient Goths of Germany, who (the learned
Cluverius is positive) were first seated in the
country between the Vistula and the Oder, and
who afterwards incorporated the Her cult, the Buglans,
and some other Vandallick clans to 'em—had all of
them a wise custom of debating every thing of import-
ance to their state, twice; that is,—once drunk, and

once sober:-Drunk—that their councils might not

want vigour ;-and sober—that they might not want

discretion.

Now my father being entirely a water-drinker,—
was a long time gravelled almost to death, in turning
this as much to his advantage, as he did every other
thing which the ancients did or said; and it was not
till the seventh year of his marriage, after a thousand
fruitless experiments and devices, that he hit upon an

expedient which answered the purpose;-and that

was, when any difficult and momentous point was to be
settled in the family, which required great sobriety, and

great spirit too, in its determination,-he fixed and

set apart the first Sunday night in the month, and the
Saturday night which immediately preceded it, to argue
it over, in bed, with my mother: By which contrivance,

if you consider, Sir, with yourself, * * *
*********

*********
* * * * * * * * *
*****

These my father, humorously 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.6

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

It must not be made a secret of to the world, that
this answers full as well in literary discussions, as either
in military or conjugal; but it is not every author that
can try the experiment as the Goths and Vandals did

it-or, if he can, may it be always for his body's

health ; and to do it, as my father did it,—am I sure
it would be always for his soul's.

My way is this:-

In all nice and ticklish discussions—(of which,
heaven knows, there are but too many in my book),—
where I find I cannot take a step without the danger
of having either their worships or their reverences upon

my back-1 write one-halifull,—and t'other fasting ;

-or write it all full,-—and correct it fasting;-

or write it fasting,—and correct it full, for they all

come to the same thing:-So that with a less

variation from my father's plan, than my father's from

the Gothick-1 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 irreconcile-

able effects, flow uniformly from the wise and wonder-
ful mechanism of nature,—of which,—be her's the

honour.-All that we can do, is to turn and work

the machine to the improvement and better manufactory
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.-1 count not the number of my scars,—nor

does my fancy go forth into dark entries and bye-corners

to antedate my stabs.-In a word, my pen takes its

course; and I write on as much from the fulness of my
heart, as my stomach.-

But when, an' please your honours, I indite fasting,

'tis a different history.-1 pay the world all possible

attention and respect,—and have as great a shareOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

7

whilst it lasts) of that under-strapping virtue of

iscretion 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 under-
stand it.

Chapter jtottn

WE should begin, said my father, turning himself
half round in bed, and shifting his pillow a
little towards my mother's, as he opened the

debate-We should begin to think, Mrs Shandy, of

putting this boy into breeches.-

We should so,—said my mother.-We defer it,

my dear, quoth my father, shamefully.-

I think we do, Mr Shandy,—said my mother.

-Not but the child looks extremely well, said

my father, in his vests and tunicks.-

-He does look very well in them,—replied my

mother.-

-And for that reason it would be almost a sin,

added my father, to take him out of 'em.-

-It would so,—said my mother:-But indeed

he is growing a very tall lad,—rejoined my father.

-He is very tall for his age, indeed,—said my

mother.'-

-1 can not (making two syllables of it) imagine,

quoth my father, who the deuce he takes after.-

I cannot conceive, for my life,—said my mother.-

Humph !-said my father.

(The dialogue ceased for a moment.)

-1 am very short myself,—continued my father

gravely.8

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

You are very short, Mr Shandy,—said my mother.
Humph! quoth my father to himself, a second time:
in muttering which, he plucked his pillow a little
further from my mother's,—and turning about again,
there was an end of the debate for three minutes and
a half.

-When he gets these breeches made, cried my

father in a higher tone, he'll look like a beast in 'em.
He will be very awkward in them at first, replied

my mother.-

-And 'twill be lucky, if that's the worst on't,

added my father.

It will be very lucky, answered my mother.
I suppose, replied my father,—making some pause

first,—he'll be exactly like other people's children.-

Exactly, said my mother.-

-Though I shall be sorry for that, added my

father : and so the debate stopp'd again.

-They should be of leather, said my father,

turning him about again.—

They will last him, said my mother, the longest.
But he can have no linings to 'em, replied my

father.-

He cannot, said my mother.

'Twere better to have them of fustian, quoth my
father.

Nothing can be better, quoth my mother.--

-Except dimity,—replied my father :-'Tis

best of all,—replied my mother.

-One must not give him his death, however,—

interrupted my father.

By no means, said my mother:-and so the

dialogue stood still again.

I am resolved, however, quoth my father, breaking
silence the fourth time, he shall have no pockets in
them.-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

9

-There is no occasion for any, said my

mother.-

I mean in his coat and waistcoat,—cried my father.

-1 mean so too,—replied my mother.

-Though if he gets a gig or top-Poor souls!

it is a crown and a sceptre to them,—they should

have where to secure it.-

Order it as you please, Mr Shandy, replied my

mother.-

-But don't you think it right ? added my father,

pressing the point home to her.

Perfectly, said my mother, if it pleases you, Mr

Shandy,-

-There's for you! cried my father, losing temper

-Pleases me!-You never will distinguish, Mrs

Shandy, nor shall I ever teach you to do it, betwixt a

point of pleasure and a point of convenience.-This

was on the Sunday night:-and further this chapter

sayeth not.

C&apter

AFTER my father had debated the affair of the
J^ breeches with my mother,—he consulted Al-
bertus 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 express9 De re
Vestiaria Veierum,—it was Rubenius9 s business to
have given my father some lights.—On the contrary,
my father might as well have thought of extracting
the seven cardinal virtues out of a long beard,—as of
extracting a single word out of Rubenius upon the
subject.

Upon every other aiticle of ancient dress, RubeniusIO

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

was very communicative to my father;—gave him a
full and satisfactory account of

The Toga, or loose gown.

The Chlamys.

The EphocL

The Tunica, or Jacket.

The Synthesis.

The Paenula.

The Lacema, with its Cucullus.

The Paludamentum.

The Praetexta.

The Sagum, or soldier's jerkin.

The Trabea: of which, according to Suetonius,
there were three kinds.—

-But what are all these to the breeches ? said

my father.

Rubenius threw him down upon the counter all
kinds of shoes which had been in fashion with the

Romans.-

There was,

The open shoe.

The close shoe.

The slip shoe.

The wooden shoe.

The soc.

The buskin.

And The military shoe with hobnails in it, which
Juvenal takes notice of.

There were, The clogs.

The pattins.

The pantoufles.

The brogues.

The sandals, with latchets to them.

There was, The felt shoe.

The linen shoe.

The laced shoe.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

II

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, latchets, ribbands, 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 fabrics,-

some plain,—some striped,—others diapered through-
out the whole contexture of the wool, with silk and

gold-That linen did not begin to be in common use

till towards the declension of the empire, when the
Egyptians coming to settle amongst them, brought it
into vogue.

-That persons of quality and fortune distinguished

themselves by the fineness and whiteness of their
clothes; which colour (next to purple, which was ap-
propriated to the great offices) they most affected, and

wore on their birth-days and public rejoicings.--

That it appeared from the best historians of those times,
that they frequently sent their clothes to the fuller, to

be clean'd and whitened:-but that the inferior

people, to avoid that expence, generally wore brown
clothes, and of a something coarser texture,—till to-
wards the beginning of Augustus's reign, when the
slave dressed like his master, and almost every dis-
tinction 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, Bayjius, Budaus, Salmasius9 Lipsius,
La%ius, Isaac Casaubon, and Joseph Scaliger, all dif-
fered from each other,—and he from them: That
some took it to be the button,—some the coat itself,12

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

—others only the colour of it:—That the great Bayjius,
in his Wardrobe of the Ancients, chap. 12—honestly
said, he knew not what it was,—whether a tibula,—a
stud,—a button,—a loop,—a buckle,—or clasps and

keepers.—-

-My father lost the horse, but not the saddle

-They are hooks and eyes, said my father-and

with hooks and eyes he ordered my breeches to be
made.

Chapter w.

WE are now going to enter upon a new scene of

events.-

-Leave we then the breeches in the

taylor's hands, with my father standing over him with
his cane, reading him as he sat at work a lecture upon
the 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

dishonours.-

Leave we poor Le Fever to recover, and get home

from Marseilles as he can.-And last of all,—because

the hardest of all-

Let us leave, if possible, myself:-But 'tis

impossible,—I must go along with you to the end of
the work.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

*3

Chapter

IF the reader has not a clear conception of the rood
and the half of ground which lay at the bottom of
my uncle Toby's kitchen-garden, and which was the
scene of so many of his delicious hours,—the fault is
not in me,—but in his imagination;—for I am sure I
gave him so minute a description, I was almost ashamed
of it.

When Fate was looking forwards one afternoon,
into the great transactions of future times,—and re-
collected for what purposes this little plot, by a decree
fast bound down in iron, had been destined,—she gave
a nod to Nature,—'twas enough—Nature threw half
a spade full of her kindliest compost upon it, with just
so much clay in it, as to retain the forms of angles and
indentings,—and so little of it too, as not to cling to the
spade, and render works of so much glory, nasty in
foul weather.

My uncle Toby came down, as the reader has been
informed, with plans along with him, of almost every
fortified town in Italy and Flanders ; so let the Duke
of Marlborough, or the allies, have set down before
what town they pleased, my uncle Toby was prepared
for them.

His way, which was the simplest one in the world,
was this; as soon as ever a town was invested—(but
sooner when the design was known) to take the plan
of it (let it be what town it would), and enlarge it
upon a scale to the exact size of his bowling-green;
upon the surface of which, by means of a large role of
packthread, and a number of small piquets driven into
the ground, at the several angles and redans, he trans-
ferred the lines from his paper; then taking the profile
of the place, with its works, to determine the depths14

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

and slopes of the ditches,—the talus of the glacis, and
the precise height of the several banquets, parapets, &c.

—he set the corporal to work-and sweetly went it

on:-The nature of the soil,—the nature of the

work itself,—and above all, the good-nature of my
uncle 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.-1 beg I may not be interrupted in my

story, by being told, That the Jirst 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 in-

croaching upon his kitchen-garden, for the sake of
enlarging his works on the bowling-green, and for that
reason generally ran his first and second parallels
betwixt two rows of his cabbages and his cauliflowers ;
the conveniences and inconveniences of which will be
considered at large in the history of my uncle Toby's
and the corporal's campaigns, of which, this I'm now
writing is but a sketch, and will be finished, if I con-
jecture right, in three pages (but there is no guessing)

-The campaigns themselves will take up as many

books ; and therefore I apprehend it would be hanging
too great a weight of one kind of matter in so flimsy
a performance as this, to rhapsodize them, as I once

intended, into the body of the work-surely they

had better be printed apart,-we'll consider the

affair-so take the following sketch of them in the

mean time.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

15

C&apter ypiU

WHEN the town, with its works, was finished,
my uncle Toby and the corporal began to run
their first parallel-not at random, or any-
how-but from the same points and distances the

allies had begun to run theirs; and regulating their
approaches and attacks, by the accounts my uncle Toby
received from the daily papers,—they went on, during
the whole siege, step by step with the allies.

When the duke of Marlborough made a 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 practic-
able breach had been made by the duke of Marlborough,
in the main body of the place,—to have stood behind
the horn-beam hedge, and observed the spirit with
which my uncle Toby, with Trim behind him, sallied

forth ;-the one with the Gazette in his hand,—the

other with a spade on his shoulder to execute the

contents.-What an honest triumph in my uncle

Toby's looks as he marched up to the ramparts! What
intense pleasure swimming in his eye as he stood over
the corporal, reading the paragraph ten times over to
him, as he was at work, lest, peradventure, he should
make the breach an inch too wide,—or leave it an inch

too narrow.-But when the chamade was beat, and

the corporal helped my uncle up it, and followed with
the colours in his hand, to fix them upon the rampartsi6

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

—Heaven ! Earth ! Sea!-but what avails apos-
trophes I-with all your elements, wet or dry, ye

never compounded so intoxicating a draught.

In this track of happiness for many years, without
one interruption to it, except now and then when the
wind continued to blow due west for a week or ten
days together, which detained the Flanders mail, and
kept them so long in torture,—but still 'twas the torture

of the happy-In this track, I say, did my uncle

Toby and Trim move for many years, every year of
which, and sometimes every month, from the invention
of either the one or the other of them, adding some
new conceit or quirk of improvement to their opera-
tions, which always opened fresh springs of delight in
carrying them on.

The first year's campaign was carried on from
beginning to end, in the plain and simple method I've
related.

In the second year, in which my uncle Toby took
Liege and Ruremond, he thought he might afford the
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 con-
verted afterwards into orgues, as the better thing; and
during the winter of the same year, my uncle Toby,
instead of a new suit of clothes, which he always had
at Christmas, treated himself with a handsome sentry-
box, to stand at the corner of the bowling-green,
betwixt which point and the foot of the glacis,
there was left a little kind of an esplanade for him
and the corporal to confer and hold councils of war
upon.

-The sentry-box was in case of rain.

All these were painted white three times over theOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

17

ensuing spring, which enabled my uncle Toby to take
the field with great splendour.

My father would often say to Torick, 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 satires
upon the parade and prancing manner in which Lewis
XIV. from the beginning of the war, but particularly

that very year, had taken the field-But 'tis not my

brother Toby*s nature, kind soul! my father would add,
to insult any one.

-But let us go on.

C&aptsr ppiif,

I MUST observe, that although in the first year's
campaign, the word town is often mentioned,—
yet there was no town at that time within the
polygon; that addition was not made till the summer
following the spring in which the bridges and sentry-
box were painted, which was the third year of my
uncle Toby s campaigns,—when upon his taking Amberg,
Bonn, and Rhinberg, and Huy and Limb ourg> one after
another, a thought came into the corporal's head, that
to talk of taking so many towns, without one town to
shew for it,—was a very nonsensical way of going to
work, and so proposed to my uncle Toby9 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*
111.	Bi8

the life and opinions

The one was, to have the town built exactly in
the style of those of which it was most likely to be

the representative:-with grated windows, and the

gable ends of the houses, facing the streets, &c. &c.—
as those in Ghent and Bruges, and the rest of the towns
in Brabant and Flanders.

The other was, not to have the houses run up
together, as the corporal proposed, but to have every
house independent, to hook on, or off, so as 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 summer-

the town was a perfect Proteus-It was JLanden, 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 Gomorah, as my uncle Toby*s town did.

In the fourth year, my uncle Toby thinking a town
looked foolishly without a church, added a very fine

one with a steeple.-Trim was for having bells in

it;-my uncle Toby said, the metal 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 Toby9s sentry-box ; and in a
short time, these led the way for a train of somewhat
larger,—and so on—(as must always be the case in
hobby-horsical affairs) from pieces of half an inch bore,
till it came at last to my father's jack boots.

The next year, which was that in which Lisle was
besieged, and at the close of which both Ghent and
Bruges fell into our hands,—my uncle Toby was sadlyOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

19

put to it for proper ammunition;-1 say proper

ammunition-because his great artillery would not

bear powder ; and 'twas well for the Shandy family

they would not-F or so full were the papers, from

the beginning to the end of the siege, of the incessant

firings kept up by the besiegers,-and so heated was

my uncle Toby's imagination with the accounts of them,
that he had infallibly shot away all his estate.

Something therefore was wanting as a succedaneum,
especially in one or two of the more violent paroxysms
of the siege, to keep up something like a continual firing

in the imagination,-and this something, the corporal,

whose principal strength lay in invention, supplied by
an entire new system of battering of his own,—without
which, this had been objected to by military critics, to
the end of the world, as one of the great desiderata of
my uncle Toby's apparatus.

This will not be explained the worse, for setting off,
as I generally do, at a little distance from the subject.

Chapter wib.

WITH two or three other trinkets, small in
themselves, but of great regard, which poor
Tom, the corporal's unfortunate brother, had
sent him over, with the account of his marriage with

the Jew's widow-there was

A Montero-C2i$ and two Turkish tobacco-pipes.

The Montero-cap I shall describe by and bye.-

The Turkish tobacco-pipes had nothing particular in
them, they were fitted up and ornamented as usual, with
flexible tubes of Morocco leather and gold wire, and
mounted at their ends, the one of them with ivory,
—the other with black ebony, tipp'd with silver.20

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

My father, who saw all things in lights different
from the rest of the world, would say to the corporal,
that he ought to look upon these two presents more as

tokens of his brother's nicety, than his affection.-

Tom did not care, Trim, he would say, to put on the

cap, or to smoke 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, dyed in grain, and mounted all round with fur,
except about four inches in the front, which was faced
with a light blue, slightly embroidered,—and seemed to
have been the property of a 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 culinary, pro-
vided the corporal was sure he was in the right,—it
was either his oath,—his wager,—or his gift.

-'Twas his gift in the present case.

I'll be bound, said the corporal, speaking to himself,
to give away my Montero-cap to the first beggar who
comes to the door, if I do not manage this matter to
his honour's satisfaction.

The completion was no further off, than the very
next morning; which was that of the storm of the
counterscarp betwixt the Lower Deule, to the right,
and the gate St Andrew,—and on the left, between St
Magdalen s and the river.

As this was the most memorable attack in the whole
war,—the most gallant and obstinate on both sides,—
and I must add the most bloody too, for it cost the
allies themselves that morning above eleven hundredOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

21

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 con-
sidered he should want shaving, and that it would be
very inconvenient doing it with his sword on,—so took

it off:-In assaying to put on his regimental coat

and waistcoat, my uncle Toby found the same objection
in his wig,—so that went off too:—So that what with
one thing and what with another, as always falls out
when a man is in the most haste,—'twas ten o'clock,
which was half an hour later than his usual time, before
my uncle Toby sallied out.

C&apter

MY uncle Toby had scarce turned the corner of his
yew hedge, which separated his kitchen-garden
from his bowling-green, when he perceived

the corporal had begun the attack without him.-

Let me stop and give you a picture of the corporal's
apparatus; and of the corporal himself in the height of
his 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,-22

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

nor can any combination of all that is grotesque and
whimsical in her works produce its equal.

The corporal-

-Tread lightly on his ashes, ye men of genius,

-for he was your kinsman :

Weed his grave clean, ye men of goodness,—for he
was your brother.—Oh corporal! had I thee, but
now,—now, that I am able to give thee a dinner and
protection,—how would I cherish thee! thou should'st
wear thy Montero-cap every hour of the day, and
every day of the week,—and when it was worn out, I

would purchase thee a couple like it:-But alas!

alas! alas! now that I can do this in spite of their
reverences—the occasion is lost—for thou art gone ;—
thy genius fled up to the stars from whence it came;
—and that warm heart of thine, with all its generous
and open vessels, compressed into a clod of the valley /

-But what-what is this, to that future and

dreaded page, where I look towards the velvet pall,
decorated with the military ensigns of thy master—the

first—the foremost of created beings;-where, I

shall see thee, faithful servant! laying his sword and
scabbard with a trembling hand across his coffin, and
then returning pale as ashes to the door, to take his
mourning horse by the bridle, to follow his hearse, as

he directed thee;-where—all my father's systems

shall be baffled by his sorrows; and, in spite of his
philosophy, I shall behold him, as he inspects the
lackered plate, twice taking his spectacles from off his
nose, to wipe away the dew which nature has shed

upon them-When I see him cast in the rosemary

with an air of disconsolation, which cries through my

ears,-O Toby ! in what corner of the world shall

I seek thy fellow ?

-Gracious powers ! which erst have opened the

lips of the dumb in his distress, and made the tongueOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

23

of the stammerer speak plain-when I shall arrive

at this dreaded page, deal not with me, then, with a
stinted hand.

©Japter yjriiL

THE corporal, who the night before had resolved
in his mind to supply the grand desideratum, of
keeping up something like an incessant firing
upon the enemy during the heat of the attack,—had no
further idea in his fancy at that time, than a con-
trivance of smoking tobacco against the town, out of
one of my uncle Toby's six field-pieces, which were
planted on each side of his sentry-box ; the means of
effecting which 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 tagg'd by the same number of tin-
pipes fitted to the touch-holes, and sealed with clay
next the cannon, and then tied hermetically with
waxed silk at their several insertions into the Morocco
tube,—he should be able to fire the six field-pieces all

together, and with the same ease as to fire one.-

-Let no man say from what taggs and jaggs

hints may not be cut out for the advancement of human
knowledge. Let no man, who has read my father's
first and second beds of justice, ever rise up and say
again, from collision of what kinds of bodies light may
or may not be struck out, to carry the arts and sciences

up to perfection.-Heaven! thou knowest how I

love them ;--thou knowest the secrets of my heart,24

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

and that I would this moment give my shirt-Thou

art a fool, Shandy, says Eugenius, for thou hast but a

dozen in the world,—and 'twill break thy set.-

No matter for that, Eugenius; I would give the
shirt off my back to be burned into tinder, were it only
to satisfy one feverish enquirer, how many sparks at
one good stroke, a good flint and steel could strike into

the tail of it.-Think ye not that in striking these in,

—he might, peradventure, strike something out P 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.

GD&apter pjctotj*

THE corporal had slipped out about ten minutes
before my uncle Toby, in order to fix his
apparatus, and just give the enemy a shot or
two before my uncle Toby came.

He had drawn the six field-pieces for this end, all
close up together in front of my uncle Toby's sentry-
box, leaving only an interval of about a yard and a half
betwixt the three, on the right and left, for the con-
venience 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,—andOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

25

the ebony pipe tipp'd with silver, which appertained
to the battery on the left, betwixt the finger and thumb

of the other-and with his right knee fixed firm

upon the ground, as if in the front rank of his platoon,
was the corporal, with his Montero-cap upon his head,
furiously playing off his two cross batteries at the same
time against the counter-guard, which faced the counter-
scarp, where the attack was to be made that morning.
His first intention, as I said, was no more than giving
the enemy a single puff or two ;—but the pleasure of the
puffs, as well as the pujfing, 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.

Chapter

MY uncle Toby took the ivory pipe out of the
corporal's hand,—looked at it for half a
minute, and returned it.

In less than two minutes, my uncle Toby took the
pipe from the corporal again, and raised it half way

to his mouth-then hastily gave it back a second

time.

The corporal redoubled the attack,-my uncle

Toby smiled,-then looked grave,-then smiled for

a moment,--then looked serious for a long time;

-Give me hold of the ivory pipe, Trim, said my

uncle Toby-my uncle Toby put it to his lips,-

drew it back directly,-gave a peep over the horn-
beam hedge;-never did my uncle Toby's mouth

water so much for a pipe in his life.-My uncle26

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Toby retired into the sentry-box with the pipe in his

hand.-

-Dear uncle Toby / don't go into the sentry-box

with the pipe,—there's no trusting a man's self with
such a thing in such a corner.

—GrfSRSs®—

Chapter wip

I BEG the reader will assist me here, to wheel off

my uncle Toby's ordnance behind the scenes,-

to remove his sentry-box, and clear the theatre, if
possible, of horn-works and half moons, and get the rest

of his military apparatus out of the way ;-that done,

my dear friend Garrick, we'll snuff the candles bright,
—sweep the stage with a new broom,—draw up the
curtain, and exhibit my uncle Toby dressed in a new
character, throughout which the world can have no
idea how he will act: and yet, if pity be a-kin to love,
—r-and bravery no alien to it, you have seen enough of
my uncle Toby in these, to trace these family likenesses,
betwixt the two passions (in case there is one) to your
heart's content.

Vain science! thou assistest us in no case of this
kind—and thou puzzlest us in every one.

There was, Madam, in my uncle Toby, a singleness
of heart which misled him so far out of the little
serpentine tracks in which things of this nature usually
go on; you can—you can have no conception of it:
with this, there was a plainness and simplicity of
thinking, with such an unmistrusting ignorance of the

plies and foldings of the heart of woman ;-and so

naked and defenceless did he stand before you, (when
a siege was out of his head,) that you might have stood
behind any one of your serpentine walks, and shot myOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

27

uncle Toby ten times in a day, through his liver, if nine
times in a day, Madam, had not served your purpose.

With all this, Madam,—and what confounded every
thing as much on the other hand, my uncle Toby had
that unparalleled modesty of nature I once told you of,
and which, by the bye, stood eternal sentry upon his

feelings, that you might as soon-But where am I

going ? these reflections crowd in upon me ten pages at
least too soon, and take up that time, which I ought to
bestow upon facts.

GDJ)apter wf.

OF the few legitimate sons of Adam whose breasts
never felt what the sting of love was,—(main-
taining first, all mysogynists to be bastards)—
the greatest heroes of ancient and modern story have
carried off amongst them nine parts in ten of the honour;
and I wish for their sakes I had the key of my study,
out of my draw-well, only for five minutes, to tell you
their names—recollect them I cannot—so be content to

accept of these, for the present, in their stead.-

There was the great king Aldrovandus, and Bos-
phorus, and Cappadocius9 and Dardanus, and Pontus,

and Asms,-to say nothing of the iron-hearted

Charles the Xllth, whom the Countess of K***** her-
self could make nothing of.-There was Babylonicus>

and Mediterraneusj and Polixenes, and Persicusy and
Prusicus, not one of whom (except Cappadocius and
Pontus, who were both a little suspected) ever once

bowed down his breast to the goddess-The truth

is, they had all of them something else to do—and so
had my uncle Toby—till Fate—till Fate I say, envying
his name the glory of being handed down to posterity28

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

with Aldrovandus's and the rest,—she basely patched
up the peace of Utrecht.

-Believe me, Sirs, 'twas the worst deed she did

that year.

dD&apter wpL

A MONGST the many ill consequences of the treaty
JY of Utrecht, it was within a point of giving my
uncle Toby a surfeit of sieges; and though he
recovered his appetite afterwards, yet Calais itself left
not a deeper scar in Mary's heart, than Utrecht upon my
uncle Toby*s. To the end of his life he never could
hear Utrecht mentioned upon any account whatever,—
or so much as read an article of news extracted out of
the Utrecht Gazette, without fetching a sigh, as if his
heart would break in twain.

My father, who was a great motive-monger, and
consequently a very dangerous person for a man to sit
by, either laughing or crying,—for he generally knew
your motive for doing both, much better than you knew
it yourself—would always console my uncle Toby upon
these occasions, in a way, which 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,—by God's
blessing we shall have another war break out again some
of these days; and when it does,—the belligerent
powers, if they would hang themselves, cannot keep us

out of play.-1 defy 'em, my dear Toby, he would

add, to take countries without taking towns,-or

towns without sieges.

My uncle Toby never took this back-stroke of my

father's at his hobby-horse kindly.-He thought the

stroke ungenerous; and the more so, because in strikingOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

29

the horse he hit the rider too, and in the most dis-
honourable 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:-1 repeat the observa-
tion, and a fact which contradicts it again.—He was
not eloquent,—it was not easy to my uncle Toby to
make long harangues,—and he hated florid ones; but
there were occasions where the stream overflowed the
man, and ran so counter to its usual course, that in
some parts my uncle Toby> for a time, was at least

equal to Tertullus-but in others, in my own opinion,

infinitely above him.

My father was so highly pleased with one of these
apologetical orations of my uncle Toby's, which he had
delivered one evening before him and Torick, that he
wrote it down before he went to bed.

I have had the good fortune to meet with it amongst
my father's papers, with here and there an insertion of
his own, betwixt two crooks, thus [ ], and is
endorsed,

MY BROTHER TOBY'S JUSTIFICATION OF HIS OWN
PRINCIPLES AND CONDUCT IN WISHING TO
CONTINUE THE WAR.

I may safely say, I have read over this apologetical
oration of my uncle Toby's a hundred times, and think
it so fine a model of defence,—and 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.3°

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter vwiU

MY UNCLE TOBY'S APOLOGETICAL ORATION.

I AM not insensible, brother Shandy, that when a
man whose profession is arms, wishes, as I have
done, for war,—it has an ill aspect to the world ;

-and that, how just and right soever his motives

and intentions may be,—he stands in an uneasy posture
in vindicating himself from private views in doing it.

For this cause, if a soldier is a prudent man, which
he may be without being a jot the less brave, he will
be sure not to utter his wish in the hearing of an
enemy; for say what he will, an enemy will not

believe him.-He will be cautious of doing it even

to a friend,—lest he may suffer in his esteem :-But

if his heart is overcharged, and a secret sigh for arms
must have its vent, he will reserve it for the ear of a
brother, who knows his character to the bottom, and
what his true notions, dispositions, and principles of
honour are: What, I hope, I have been in all these,
brother Shandy, would be unbecoming in me to say:

-much worse, I know, have I been than I ought,—

and something worse, perhaps, than I think: But such
as I am, you, my dear brother Shandy, who have
sucked the same breasts with me,—and with whom
I have been brought up from my cradle,—and from
whose knowledge, from the first hours of our boyish
pastimes, down to this, I have concealed no one action

of my life, and scarce a thought in it-Such as I am,

brother, you must by this time know me, with all my
vices, and with all my weaknesses too, whether of my
age, my temper, my passions, or my understanding.

Tell me then, my dear brother Shandy, upon which
of them it is, that when I condemned the peace of
Utrecht, and grieved the war was not carried on withOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

31

vigour a little longer, you should think your brother
did it upon unworthy views; or that in wishing for
war, he should be bad enough to wish more of his
fellow-creatures slain,—more slaves made, and more
families driven from their peaceful habitations, merely

for his own pleasure:-Tell me, brother Shandy,

upon what one deed of mine do you ground it? \The
devil a deed do I know of, dear Toby, but one for a
hundred pounds, which I lent thee to carry on these cursed
sieges

If, when I was a school-boy, I could not hear a
drum beat, but my heart beat with it—was it my

fault ?-Did I plant the propensity there ?-Did

I sound the alarm within, or Nature ?

When Guy, Earl of Warwick, and Parismus and
Paris menus, and Valentine and Orson, and the Seven
Champions of England, were handed around the school,
—were they not all purchased with my own pocket-
money ? Was that selfish, brother Shandy P When we
read over the siege of Troy, which lasted ten years and

eight months,-though with such a train of artillery

as we had at Namur, the town might have been carried
in a week—was I not as much concerned for the
destruction of the Greeks and Trojans as any boy of
the whole school ? Had I not three strokes of a ferula
given me, two on my right hand, and one on my left,
for calling Helena a bitch for it ? Did any one of you
shed more tears for Hector P 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 gather32

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

laurels,—and 'tis another to scatter cypress.-[Who

told thee, my dear Toby, that cypress was used by the
antients on mournful occasions

-'Tis one thing, brother Shandy, for a soldier to

hazard his own life—to leap first down into the trench,

where he is sure to be cut in pieces:-'Tis one

thing, from public spirit and a thirst of glory, to enter
the breach the first man,—To stand in the foremost
rank, and march bravely on with drums and trumpets,

and colours flying about his ears:-'Tis one thing, I

say, brother Shandy, to do this,—and 'tis another thing
to reflect on the miseries of war;—to view the desola-
tions of whole countries, and consider the intolerable
fatigues and hardships which the soldier himself, the
instrument who works them, is forced (for sixpence a
day, if he can get it) to undergo.

Need I be told, dear Torick, as I was by you, in
Le Fever's funeral sermon, That so soft and gentle a
creature, born to love, to mercy, and kindness, as man is,

tvas not shapedfor this P-But why did you not add,

Torick,—if not by nature—that he is so by necessity ?

-For what is war ? what is it, Torick, when fought

as ours has been, upon principles of liberty, and upon
principles of honour-what is it, but the getting to-
gether of quiet and harmless people, with their swords
in their hands, to keep the ambitious and the turbulent
within bounds ? And heaven is my witness, brother
Shandy, that the pleasure I have taken in these things,
—and that infinite delight, in particular, which has
attended my sieges in my bowling-green, has arose
v/ithin me, and I hope in the corporal too, from tlje
consciousness we both had, that in carrying them on,
we were answering the great ends of our creation.

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

33

Chapter pppffj.

I TOLD the Christian reader-1 say Christian

-hoping he is one-and if he is not, I

am sorry for it-and only beg he will consider

the matter with himself, and not lay the blame entirely

upon this book-»-

I told him, Sir-for in good truth, when a man

is telling a story in the strange way I do mine, he is
obliged continually to be going backwards and forwards

to keep all tight together in the reader's fancy-

which, for my own part, if I did not take heed to
do more than at first, there is so much unfixed and
equivocal matter starting up, with so many breaks and
gaps in it,—and so little service do the stars afford,
which, nevertheless, I hang up in some of the darkest
passages, knowing that the world is apt to lose its way,
with all the lights the sun itself at hoon-day can give it

-and now you see, I am lost myself!-

-But 'tis my father's fault; and whenever my

brains come to be dissected, you will perceive, without
spectacles, that he has left a large uneven thread, as
you sometimes see in an unsaleable piece of cambrick,
running along the whole length of the web, and so un-
to wardly, 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.-

Qjuanto 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.

lii.

C34

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter jtppfb

1TOLD the Christian reader in the beginning of
the chapter which preceded my uncle Toby's
apologetical oration,—though in a different trope
from what I should 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 con-
federating powers.

There is an indignant way in which a man some-
times dismounts his horse, which as good as says to
him, " I'll go afoot, Sir, all the days of my life, before
I would ride a single mile upon your back again."
Now my uncle Toby could not be said to dismount his
horse in this manner; for in strictness of language, he

could not be said to dismount his horse at all-his

horse rather flung him-and somewhat viciously,

which made my uncle Toby take it ten times more
unkindly. Let this matter be settled by state-jockies

as they like.-It created, I say, a sort of shyness

betwixt my uncle Toby and his hobby-horse.-He

had no occasion for him from the month of March to
November, which was the summer after the articles
were signed, except it was now and then to take a short
ride out, just to see that the fortifications and harbour
of Dunkirk were demolished, according to stipulation.

The French were so backwards all that summer in
setting about that affair, and Monsieur Tugghe, the
Deputy from the magistrates of Dunkirk, presented so
many affecting petitions to the queen,—beseeching her
majesty to cause only her thunder-bolts to fall upon
the martial works, which might have incurred her
displeasure,—but to spare—to spare the mole, for the
mole's sake; which, in its naked situation, could be noOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

35

more than an object of pity-and the queen (who

was but a woman) being of a pitiful disposition,-—and
her ministers also, they not wishing in their hearts to

have the town dismantled, for these private reasons, *

* * * * * # * * *

* * # * * #_

*********

* * * ; so that the whole went heavily on
with my uncle Toby ; insomuch, that it was not within
three full months, after he and the corporal had con-
structed the town, and put it in a condition to be
destroyed, that the several commandants, commissaries,
deputies, negociators, and intendants, would permit him
to set about it.-Fatal interval of inactivity!

The corporal was for beginning the demolition, by
making a breach in the ramparts, or main fortifications

of the town-No,—that will never do, corporal,

said my uncle Toby, for in going that way to work with
the town, the English garrison will not be safe in it an

hour; because if the French are treacherous-They

are as treacherous as devils, an' please your honour,

said the corporal-It gives me concern always when

I hear it, Trim, said my uncle Toby,—for they don't
want personal bravery; and if a breach is made in the
ramparts, they may enter it, and make themselves

masters of the place when they please:-Let them

enter it, said the corporal, lifting up his pioneer's spade
in both his hands, as if he was going to lay about him
with it,—let them enter, an' please your honour, if they

dare.-In cases like this, corporal, said my uncle

Toby, slipping his right hand down to the middle of
his cane, and holding it afterwards truncheon-wise

with his fore-finger extended,-'tis no part of the

consideration of a commandant, what the enemy dare,
—or what they dare not do; he must act with36

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

prudence. We will begin with the outworks both
towards the sea and the land, and particularly with
fort Louis, the most distant of them all, and demolish
it first,—and the rest, one by one, both on our right

and left, as we retreat towards the town;-then

we'll demolish the mole,—next fill up the harbour,—
then retire into the citadel, and blow it up into the air:
and having done that, corporal, we'll embark for
England.-We are there, quoth the corporal, recol-
lecting himself-Very true, said my uncle Toby—

looking at the church.

C&apt** wyto*

A DELUSIVE, delicious consultation or two of
this kind, betwixt my uncle Toby and Trim,
upon the demolition of Dunkirk,—for a
moment rallied back the ideas of those pleasures,

which were slipping from under him :-still—still

all went on heavily-the magic left the mind the

weaker—Stillness, with Silence at her back, entered
the solitary parlour, and drew their gauzy mantle over

my uncle Toby's head;-and Listlessness, with her

lax fibre and undirected eye, sat quietly down beside

him in his arm-chair.-No longer jimberg and

Rhinberg, and Limb ourg, and Huy, and Bonn, in one
year,—and the prospect of Landen, and Trerebach, and
Drusen, and Dendermond, the next,—hurried on the
blood:—No longer did saps, and mines, and blinds,
and gabions, and palisadoes, keep out this fair enemy

of man's repose :-No more could my uncle Toby,

after passing the French lines, as he eat his egg at
supper, from thence break into the heart of France,—
cross over the Oyes, and with all Picardie open behindOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

37

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 B as tile, and awake with it streaming in
his head.

-Softer visions,—gentler vibrations stole sweetly

in upon his slumbers;—the trumpet of war fell out of
his hands,—he took up the lute, sweet instrument! of

all others the most delicate! the most difficult!-

how wilt thou touch it, my dear uncle Toby ?

GD&apter jjcjrtik

NOW, because I have once or twice said, in my
inconsiderate way of talking, That I was con-
fident the following memoirs of my uncle Toby's
courtship of widow Wadman,, whenever I got time to
write them, would turn out one of the most complete
systems, both of the elementary and practical part
of love and love-making, that ever was addressed to

the world-are you to imagine from thence, that

I shall set out with a description of what love is P
whether part God and part Devil, as Plotinus will have
it-

-Or by a more critical equation, and supposing

the whole of love to be as ten-to determine with

Ficinus, " How many parts of it—the one,—and how
many the other; "—or whether it is all of it one great
Devil, from head to tail, as Plato has taken upon him
to pronounce ; concerning which conceit of his, I shall
not offer my opinion:—but my opinion of Plato is
this; that he appears, from this instance, to have been
a man of much the same temper and way of reasoning
with doctor Baynyard, who being a great enemy to38

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

blisters, as imagining that half a dozen of 'em at once,
would draw a man as surely to his grave, as a herse
and six—rashly concluded, that the Devil himself
was nothing in the world, but one great bouncing
Canthari [dt] s.-

I have nothing to say to people who allow them-
selves this monstrous liberty in arguing, but what
Nazianzen cried out (that is, polemically) to Phila-
grius-

"rEuye! " 0 rare ! 'tis jine reasoning, Sir, indeed!
—" or/ cfiiXotiocfrels h UdOeffi99—and most nobly do you
aim at truth, when you philosophize about it in your
moods and passions.

Nor is it to be imagined, for the same reason, I

should stop to inquire, whether love is a disease,-

or embroil myself with Rhasis and Dioscorides9 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 Aatius, who always begun with a

cooling clyster of hempseed and bruised cucumbers ;—
and followed on with thin potations of water-lillies and
purslane—to which he added a pinch of snuff, of the
herb Hanea ;—and where Aatius durst venture it,—
his topaz-ring.

-The other, that of Gordoniusy who (in his cap.

15. de Amore) directs they should be thrashed, "ad
putorem usque"-till they stink again.

These are disquisitions, which my father, who had
laid in a great stock of knowledge of this kind, will be
very busy with in the progress of my uncle Toby9s affairs :
T must anticipate thus much, That from his theories of
love, (with which, by the way, he contrived to crucify
my uncle Toby9s mind, almost as much as his amours
themselves)—he took a single step into practice;—and
by means of a camphorated cerecloth, which he foundOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

39

means to impose upon the taylor for buckram, whilst
he was making my uncle Toby a new pair of breeches,
he produced Gordonius9 s effect upon my uncle Toby
without the disgrace.

What changes this produced, will be read in its
proper place: all that is needful to be added to the

anecdote, is this-That whatever effect it had upon

my uncle Toby,-it had a vile effect upon the house ;

-and if my uncle Toby had not smoaked it down as

he did, it might have had a vile effect upon my father
too.

CD&apter pjcptoU*

-jj ^WILL come out of itself by and bye.-

2 All I contend for is, that I am not obliged
to set out with a definition of what Jove is;
and so long as I can go on with my story intelligibly,
with the help of the word itself, without any other idea
to it, than what I have in common with the rest of the
world, why should I differ from it a moment before

the time ?-When I can get on no further,-and

find myself entangled on all sides of this mystic labyrinth,
—my Opinion will then come in, in course,—and lead
me out.

At present, I hope I shall be sufficiently understood,
in telling the reader, my uncle Toby fell in love :

—Not that the phrase is at all to my liking : for to
say a man is fallen in love,—or that he is deeply in
love,—or up to the ears in love,—and sometimes even
over head and ears in it,—carries an idiomatical kind of
implication, that love is a thing below a man:—this is
recurring again to Plato s opinion, which, with all his
divinityship,—I hold to be damnable and heretical:—-
and so much for that.40

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Let love therefore be what it will,—my uncle Toby
fell into it.

-And possibly, gentle reader, with such a tempta-
tion—so wouldst thou: For never did thy eyes behold,
or thy concupiscence covet any thing in this world, more
concupiscible than widow Wadman.

Chapter

TO conceive this right,—call for pen and ink—

here's paper ready to your hand.-Sit down,

Sir, paint her to your own mind-as like

your mistress as you can-as unlike your wife as

your conscience will let you—'tis all one to me—
please but your own fancy in it.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.42	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

--Was ever any thing in Nature so sweet!—.

so exquisite!

-Then, dear Sir, how could my uncle Toby

resist it ?

Thrice happy book! thou wilt have one page, at least,
within thy covers, which Malice will not blacken, and
which Ignorance cannot misrepresent.

CD&apter

AS 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 Toby9s amours
a fortnight before their existence.

I have an article of news to tell you, Mr Shandy,

quoth my mother, which will surprise you greatly.-

Now my father was then holding one of his second
beds of justice, and was musing within himself about
the hardships of matrimony, as my mother broke

silence.-

«-My brother Toby, quoth she, is going to be

married to Mrs Wadman"

-Then he will never, quoth my father, be able to

lie diagonally in his bed again as long as he lives.

It was a consuming vexation to my father, that my
mother never asked the meaning of a thing she did not
understand.

-That she is not a woman of science, my father

would say—is her misfortune—but she might ask a
question.—

My mother never did.--In short, she went out ofOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

43

the world at last without knowing whether it turned

round, or stood still.-My father had officiously told

her above a thousand times which way it was,—but she
always forgot.

For these reasons, a discourse seldom went on much
further betwixt them, than a proposition,—a reply, and
a rejoinder; at the end of which, it generally took
breath for a few minutes (as in the affair of the breeches),
and then went on again.

If he marries, 'twill be the worse for us,—quoth my
mother.

Not a cherry-stone, said my father,—he may as well
batter away his means upon that, as any thing else.

-To be sure, said my mother: so here ended

the proposition,—the reply,—and the rejoinder, I told
you of.

It will be some amusement to him, too,-said my

father.

A very great one, answered my mother, if he should
have children.-

-Lord have mercy upon me,—said my father to

himself- *******

*********

*********
*********
******44

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter

1AM now beginning to get fairly into my work;
and by the help of a vegetable diet, with a few of
the cold seeds, I make no doubt but I shall be
able to go on with my uncle Toby's story, and my own,
in a tolerable strait line. Now,



Inv, T. S.

Scul. T, 5.

These were the four lines I moved in through my
first, second, third, and fourth volumes.*—In the fifth

* Alluding to the first edition.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

45

volume I have been very good,-the precise line I

have described in it being this:

A B

By which it appears, that except at the curve, marked
A, where I took a trip to Navarre,—and the indented
curve B, which is the short airing when I was there
with the Lady Baussiere and her page,—I have not
taken the least frisk of a digression, till John de la
Casse's devils led me the round you see marked D.—
for as for c c c c c they are nothing but parentheses, and
the common ins and outs incident to the lives of the
greatest ministers of state; and when compared with
what men have done,—or with my own transgressions
at the letters A B D—they vanish into nothing.

In this last volume I have done better still—for
from the end of Le Fever's episode, to the beginning
of my uncle Toby's campaigns,-—I have scarce stepped
a yard out of my way.

If I mend at this rate, it is not impossible-by the

good leave of his grace of Benevento*s devils-but

I may arrive hereafter at the excellency of going on
even thus:

which is a line drawn as straight as I could draw it, by
a writing-master's ruler (borrowed for that purpose),
turning neither to the right hand or to the left.

This right line, — the ^ath-way for Christians to
walk in ! say divines-46 LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

-The emblem of moral rectitude! says Cicero-

-The best line / say cabbage planters-is the

shortest line, says Archimedes, which can be drawn from
one given point to another.-

I wish your ladyships would lay this matter to heart,
in your next birth-day suits !

-What a journey 1

Pray can you tell me,—that is, without anger, before

I write my chapter upon straight lines-by what

mistake-who told them so-or how it has come

to pass, that your men of wit and genius have all along
confounded this line, with the line of gravitation ?

BOOK VII.

Chapter U

NO-1 think, I said, I would write two volumes

every year, provided the vile cough which then
tormented me, and which to this hour I dread
worse than the devil, would but give me leave—and
in another place—(but where, I can't recollect now)
speaking of my book as a machine, and laying my pen
and ruler down cross-wise upon the table, in order to
gain the greater credit to it—I swore it should be kept
a going at that rate these forty years, if it pleased but
the fountain of life to bless me so long with health and
good spirits.

Now as for my spirits, little have I to lay to their
charge—nay so very little (unless the mounting me
upon a long stick and playing the fool with me nine-
teen hours out of the twenty-four, be accusations) that
on the contrary, I have much—much to thank 'em for:
cheerily have ye made me tread the path of life with
all the burthens of it (except its cares) upon my back;
in no one moment of my existence, that I remember,
have ye once deserted me, or tinged the objects which
came in my way, either with sable, or with a sickly
green; in dangers ye gilded my horizon with hope,
and when Death himself knocked at my door—ye

4743

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

bad him come again; and in so gay a tone of careless
indifference, did ye do it, that he doubted of his com-
mission-

"—There must certainly be some mistake in this
matter," quoth he.

Now there is nothing in this world I abominate

worse, than to be interrupted in a story-and I was

that moment telling Eugenius a most tawdry one in my
way, of a nun who fancied herself a shell-fish, and of
a monk damn'd for eating a muscle, and was 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 finished my story-

But there is no living, Eugenius, replied I, at this
rate; for as this son of a whore has found out my
lodgings-

—You call him rightly, said Eugenius,—for by sin,

we are told, he enter'd the world-1 care not which

way he enter'd, quoth I, provided he be not in such a
hurry to take me out with him—for I have forty volumes
to write, and forty thousand things to say and do which no
body in the world will say and do for me, except thyself;
and as thou seest he has got me by the throat (for Eugenius
could scarce hear me speak across the table), and that I
am no match for him in the open field, had I not better,
whilst these few scatter'd spirits remain, and these two
spider legs of mine (holding one of them up to him)
are able to support me—had I not better, Eugenius, fly
for my life ? 'Tis my advice, my dear Tristram, said
Eugenius—Then by heaven! I will lead him a dance

he little thinks of-for I will gallop, quoth I,

without looking once behind me, to the banks of the
Garonne; and if I hear him clattering at my heels
-I'll scamper away to mount Vesuvius-fromOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

49

thence to Joppa, and from Joppa to the world's end;
where, if he follows me, I pray God he may break

his neck-

—He runs more risk there, said Eugenius, than thou.
Eugenius9 s wit and affection brought blood into the
cheek from whence it had been some months banish'd

-'twas a vile moment to bid adieu in; he led me

to my chaise-AUons / said I; the postboy gave a

crack with his whip-off I went like a cannon, and

in half a dozen bounds got into Dover.

Chapter iu

NOW hang it! quoth I, as I look'd towards the
French coast—a man should know something
of his own country too, before he goes abroad

-and I never gave a peep into Rochester church, or

took notice of the dock of Chatham, or visited St Thomas

at Canterbury, though they all three laid in my way-

—But mine, indeed, is a particular case-

So without arguing the matter further with Thomas
o9 Becket, or any one else—I skip'd into the boat, and
in five minutes we got under sail, and scudded away
like the wind.

Pray, captain, quoth I, as I was going down into
the cabin, is a man never overtaken by Death in this
passage ?

Why, there is not time for a man to be sick in it,

replied he-What a cursed lyar! for I am sick as a

horse, quoth I, already-what a brain !-upside

down !-hey-day! the cells are broke loose one

into another, and the blood, and the lymph, and the
nervous juices, with the fix'd and volatile salts, are all

jumbled into one mass-good G—! every thing

III.	D5o

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

turns round in it like a thousand whirlpools-I'd

give a shilling to know if I shan't write the clearer for
it-

Sick! sick! sick! sick!-

—When shall we get to land ? captain—they have

hearts like stones-O I am deadly sick!-reach

me that thing, boy-'tis the most discomfiting sick-
ness-1 wish I was at the bottom—Madam! how

is it with you ? Undone! undone! un-O ! un-
done ! sir-What the first time ?-No, 'tis the

second, third, sixth, tenth time, sir,-hey-day !—

what a trampling over head! — hollo ! cabin boy!
what's the matter ?—

The wind chopp'd about! s'Death !—then I shall
meet him full in the face.

What luck!—'tis chopp'd about again, master-

O the devil chop it--—-

Captain, quoth she, for heaven's sake, let us get
ashore.

C&apier ttj.

IT is a great inconvenience to a man in a haste, that
there are three distinct roads between Calais and
Paris, in behalf of which there is so much to be
said by the several deputies from the towns which lie
along them, that half a day is easily lost in settling
which you'll take.

First, the road by Lisle and Arras, which is the
most about—.—but most interesting, and instructing.
The second, that by Amiens, which you may go, if

you would see Chantilly-

And that by Beauvais, which you may go, if you will.
For this reason a great many chuse to go by
Beauva'ts.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

51

Chapter i\u

"\| 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
amiss—that a man cannot go quietly through a town
and let it alone, when it does not meddle with him,
but that he must be turning about and drawing his pen
at every kennel he crosses over, merely o' my con-
science for the sake of drawing it; because, if we may
judge from what has been wrote of these things, by all
who have wrote and gallop'd—or who have gallop'd and
wrote, which is a different way still; or who, for more
expedition than the rest, have wrote galloping, which

is the way I do at present-from the great Addison,

who did it with his satchel of school books hanging at
his a—, and galling his beast's crupper at every stroke
—there is not a gallopper of us all who might not have
gone on ambling quietly in his own ground (in case he
had any), and have wrote all he had to write, dry shod,
as well as not.

For my own part, as heaven is my judge, and to
which I shall ever make my last appeal—I know no
more of Calais (except the little my barber told me of
it as he was whetting his razor), than I do this moment
of Grand Cairo ; for it was dusky in the evening when
I landed, and dark as pitch in the morning when I set
out, and yet by merely knowing what is what, and by
drawing this from that in one part of the town, and by
spelling and putting this and that together in another
—I would lay any travelling odds, that I this moment
write a chapter upon Calais as long as my arm; and
with so distinct and satisfactory a detail of every item,
which is worth a stranger's curiosity in the town—
that you would take me for the town-clerk of Calais
itself—and where, sir, would be the wonder ? was not52

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Democritus, who laughed ten times more than I—•
town-clerk of AbderaP and was not (I forget his
name) who had more discretion than us both, town-

clerk of Ephesus P-it should be penn'd moreover,

sir, with so much knowledge and good sense, and

truth, and precision-

—Nay—if you don't believe me, you may read the
chapter for your pains.

to.

CALAIS, Calatium, Caluslum, Calesium.

This town, if we may trust its archives, the
authority of which I see no reason to call in
question in this place—was once no more than a small
village belonging to one of the first Counts de Guignes ;
and as it boasts at present of no less than fourteen
thousand inhabitants, exclusive of four hundred and
twenty distinct families in the basse ville, or suburbs

-it must have grown up by little and little, I

suppose, to 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 conjecture of 'em—
for as there are fourteen thousand inhabitants in the
town, if the church holds them all it must be consider-
ably large—and if it will not—'tis a very great pity
they have not another—it is built in form of a cross,
and dedicated to the Virgin Mary ; the steeple, which
has a spire to it, is placed in the middle of the church,
and stands upon four pillars elegant and light enough,
but sufficiently strong at the same time—it is decorated
with eleven altars, most of which are rather fine thanOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

53

beautiful. The great altar is a masterpiece in its kind;
'tis of white marble, and, as I was told, near sixty feet
high—had it been much higher, it had been as high
as mount Calvary itself—therefore, I suppose it must
be high enough in all conscience.

There was nothing struck me more than the great
Square ; tho' I cannot say 'tis either well paved or
well built; but 'tis in the heart of the town, and most
of the streets, especially those in that quarter, all
terminate in it; could there have been a fountain in all
Calais, which it seems there cannot, as such an object
would have been a great ornament, it is not to be
doubted, but that the inhabitants would have had it in
the very centre of this square,—not that it is properly
a square,—because 'tis forty feet longer from east to
west, than from north to south; so that the French
in general have more reason on their side in calling
them Places than Squares, which, strictly speaking, to
be sure, they are not.

The town-house seems to be but a sorry building,
and not to be kept in the best repair ; otherwise it had
been a second great ornament to this place; it answers
however its destination, and serves very well for the
reception of the magistrates, who assemble in it from
time to time; so that 'tis presumable, justice is regularly
distributed.

I have heard much of it, but there is nothing at all
curious in the Courgain ; 'tis a distinct quarter of the
town, inhabited solely by sailors and fishermen; it
consists of a number of small streets, neatly built and
mostly of brick; 'tis extremely populous, but as that
may be accounted for, from the principles of their diet,

—there is nothing curious in that neither.-A

traveller may see it to satisfy himself—he must not
omit however taking notice of La Tour de Guet, upon
any account; 'tis so called from its particular destination,54

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 Boulogne,
to the present war, wherein many reparations were
made, have cost (as I learned afterwards from an
engineer in Gas cony)—above a hundred millions of
livres. It is very remarkable, that at the Tete de
Gravelenes, and where the town is naturally the weakest,
they have expended the most money; so that the out-
works stretch a great way into the campaign, and con-
sequently 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 entrance
which it gave our ancestors, upon all occasions, into
France: it was not without its inconveniences also;
being no less troublesome to the English in those times,
than Dunkirk has been to us, in ours; so that it was
deservedly looked upon as the key to both kingdoms,
which no doubt is the reason that there have arisen so
many contentions who should keep it: of these, the
siege of Calais, or rather the blockade (for it was shut
up both by land and sea), was the most memorable, as
it withstood the efforts of Edward the Third a whole
year, and was not terminated at last but by famine and
extreme misery; the gallantry of Eustace de St Pierre,
who first offered himself a victim for his fellow-citizens,
has rank'd his name with heroes. As it will not take
up above fifty pages, it would be injustice to the reader,OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

55

not to give him a minute account of that romantic trans-
action, as well as of the siege itself, in Rapin's own
words:

Chapter ton

-Q UT courage! gentle reader !-1 scorn it

|) -'tis enough to have thee in my power

-but to make use of the advantage

which the fortune of the pen has now gained over thee,

would be too much-No-! by that all-powerful

fire which warms the visionary brain, and lights the
spirits through unwordly tracts! ere I would force a
helpless creature upon this hard service, and make thee
pay, poor soul! for fifty pages, which I have no right to

sell thee,-naked as I am, I would browse upon the

mountains, and smile that the north wind brought me
neither my tent or my supper.

—So put on, my brave boy! and make the best of
thy way to Boulogne.

GD&apter bit*

BOULOGNE !-hah !-so we are all

got together-debtors and sinners before

heaven; a jolly set of us—but I can't stay
and quaff it off with you—I'm pursued myself like a
hundred devils, and shall be overtaken, before I can

well change horses:-for heaven's sake, make haste

-'Tis for high-treason, quoth a very little man,

whispering as low as he could to a very tall man, that

stood next him-Or else for murder; quoth the tall

man-Well thrown, Size-ace / quoth I. No; quoth

a third, the gentleman has been committing-.56

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Ah ! ma chere jille / said I, as she tripp'd by from
her matins—you look as rosy as the morning (for the
sun was rising, and it made the compliment the more
gracious)—No; it can't be that, quoth a fourth——
(she made a curt'sy to me—I kiss'd my hand) 'tis
debt, continued he: 'Tis certainly for debt; quoth a
fifth; I would not pay that gentleman's debts, quoth
Acey for a thousand pounds; nor would I, quoth Size,
for six times the sum—Well thrown, Size-ace, again !
quoth I;—but I have no debt but the debt of Nature,
and I want but patience of her, and I will pay her

every farthing I owe her-How can you be so

hard-hearted, Madam, to arrest a poor traveller going
along without molestation to any one upon his lawful
occasions ? do stop that death-looking, long-striding
scoundrel of a scare-sinner, who is posting after me

-he never would have followed me but for you-

if it be but for a stage or two, just to give me start of

him, I beseech you, madam-do, dear lady-

-Now, in troth, 'tis a great pity, quoth mine

Irish host, that all this good courtship should be lost;
for the young gentlewoman has been after going out of

hearing of it all along.-

-Simpleton ! quoth I.

-So you have nothing else in Boulogne worth

seeing ?

—By Jasus! there is the finest Seminary for the

Humanities-

—There cannot be a finer ; quoth I.

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

57

CD5apter totij*

WHEN the precipitancy of a man's wishes
hurries on his ideas ninety times faster than
the vehicle he rides in—woe be to truth!
and woe be to the vehicle and its tackling (let 'em be
made of what stuff you will) upon which he breathes
forth the disappointment of his soul!

As I never give general characters either of men or
things in choler, " the most haste the worst speed" was
all the reflection I made upon the affair, the first time it
happen'd;—the second, third, fourth, and fifth time, I
confined it respectively to those times, and accordingly
blamed only the second, third, fourth, and fifth post-
boy for it, without carrying my reflections further ; but
the event continuing to befal me from the fifth, to the
sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth time, and with-
out one exception, I then could not avoid making a
national reflection of it, which I do in these words;

That something is always wrong in a French post-
chaise, upon first setting out.

Or the proposition may stand thus:

A French postilion has always to alight before he has
got three hundred yards out of town.

What's wrong now?-Diable!--a rope's

broke !-a knot has slipt!-a staple's drawn !

-a bolt's to whittle!-a tag, a rag, a jag, a

strap, a buckle, or a buckle's tongue, want altering.

Now true as all this is, I never think myself im-
powered to excommunicate thereupon either the post-

chaise, or its driver-nor do I take it into my head

to swear by the living G—, I would rather go a-foot

ten thousand times-or that I will be damn'd, if

ever I get into another-but I take the matter coolly

before me, and consider, that some tag, or rag, or jag,53

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

or bolt, or buckle, or buckle's tongue, will ever be a
wanting, or want altering, travel where I will—so I
never chaff, but take the good and the bad as they fall

in my road, and get on -Do so, my lad ! said I;

he had lost five minutes already, in alighting in order
to get at a luncheon of black bread, which he had
cramm'd into the chaise-pocket, and was remounted,

and going leisurely on, to relish it the better-Get

on, my lad, said I, briskly—but in the most persuasive
tone imaginable, for I jingled a four-and-twenty sous
piece against the glass, taking care to hold the flat side
towards him, as he looked back: the dog grinn'd
intelligence from his right ear to his left, and behind
his sooty muzzle discovered such a pearly row of teeth,
that Sovereignty would have pawn'd her jewels for
them,-

T , . f What masticators !—

Just heaven! | Whatbread!_

and so as he finished the last mouthful of it, we entered
the town of Montreuil,

Chapter tj;.

THERE is not a town in all France, which, in
my opinion, looks better in the map, than

Montreuil;-1 own, it does not look so

well in the book of post-roads; but when you come
to see it—to be sure it looks most pitifully.

There is one.thing, however, in it at present very
handsome; and that is, the inn-keeper's daughter:
She has been eighteen months at Amiens, and six at
Paris, in going through her classes; so knits, and
sews, and dances, and does the little coquetries very
well.-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

59

—A slut! in running them over within these five
minutes that I have stood looking at her, she has let
fall at least a dozen loops in a white thread stocking

-yes, yes—I see, you cunning gipsy!—'tis long

and taper—you need not pin it to your knee—and that

'tis your own—and fits you exactly.-

-That Nature should have told this creature a

word about a statue s thumb !

—But as this sample is worth all their thumbs-

besides, I have her thumbs and fingers in at the bargain,
if they can be any guide to me,—and as Janatone
withal (for that is her name) stands so well for a

drawing-may I never draw more, or rather may I

draw like a draught-horse, by main strength all the
days of my life,—if I do not draw her in all her pro-
portions, and with as determined 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 drawing of the fagade of the
abbey of Saint Austreberte which has been transported
from Artois hither—every thing is just I suppose as the
masons and carpenters left them,—and if the belief in
Christ continues so long, will be so these fifty years to
come—so your worships and reverences may all measure

them at your leisures-but he who measures thee,

Janatone, must do it now—thou carriest the principles
of change within thy frame; and considering the
chances of a transitory life, I would not answer for
thee a moment; ere twice twelve months are passed
and gone, thou mayest grow out like a pumpkin, and

lose thy shapes-or thou mayest go off like a flower,

and lose thy beauty—nay, thou mayest go off like a
hussy—and lose thyself.—-I would not answer for my

aunt Dinah, was she alive-'faith, scarce for her

picture--were it but painted by Reynolds—6o

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

But if I go on with my drawing, after naming that

son of Apollo, I'll be shot-

So you must e'en be content with the original; which,
if the evening is fine in passing thro' Montreuil> you
will see at your chaise-door, as you change horses: but
unless you have as bad a reason for haste as I have—you

had better stop :-She has a little of the devote : but

that, sir, is a terce to a nine in your favour-

—L— help me! I could not count a single point: so
had been piqued and repiqued, and capotted to the devil.

Chapter

ALL which being considered, and that Death more-
L over might be much nearer me than I imagined

-1 wish I was at Abbeville, quoth I, were it

only to see how they card and spin--so off we set.

# de Montreull a Nampont-poste et demi

de Nampont a Bernay---poste

de Bernay a Nouvion---poste

de Nouvion a Abbeville - poste

-but the carders and spinners were all gone to bed.

Chapter jcn

WHAT a vast advantage is travelling! only it
heats one; but there is a remedy for that,
which you may pick out of the next chapter.

* Vid. Book of French post roads, page 36, edition of 1762.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

CD&apter jcij*

WAS I in a condition to stipulate with Death,
as I am this moment with my apothecary,

how and where I will take his clyster-1

should certainly declare against submitting to it before
my friends; and therefore I never seriously think upon
the mode and manner of this great catastrophe, which
generally takes up and torments my thoughts as much
as the catastrophe itself; but I constantly draw the
curtain across it with this wish, that the Disposer of
all things may so order it, that it happen not to me in

my own house-but rather in some decent inn-

at home, I know it,-the concern of my friends, and

the last services of wiping my brows, and smoothing
my pillow, which the quivering hand of pale affection
shall pay me, will so crucify my soul, that I shall die
of a distemper which my physician is not aware of:
but in an inn, the few cold offices I wanted, would be
purchased with a few guineas, and paid me with an

undisturbed, but punctual attention-but mark.

This inn should not be the inn at Abbeville-if there

was not another inn in the universe, I would strike that
inn out of the capitulation: so

Let the horses be in the chaise exactly by four in
the morning-Yes, by four, Sir,-or by Gene-
vieve / I'll raise a clatter in the house shall wake the
dead.

C&apter jtliU

" IV H AKE them like unto a wheel," is a bitter
IV1 sarcasm> as aU fche learned know, against the
grand tour, and that restless spirit for making
it, which David prophetically foresaw would haunt the62

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

children of men in the latter days; and therefore, as
thinketh the great bishop Hall, 'tis one of the severest
imprecations which David ever utter'd against the
enemies of the Lord—and, as if he had said, " I wish
them no worse luck than always to be rolling about"
—So much motion, continues he (for he was very
corpulent)—is so much unquietness; and so much of
rest, by the same analogy, is so much of heaven.

Now, I (being very thin) think differently; and
that so much of motion, is so much of life, and so

much of joy-and that to stand still, or get on but

slowly, is death and the devil-

Hollo ! Ho!-the whole world's asleep!-

bring out the horses-grease the wheels-tie on

the mail-and drive a nail into that moulding-

I'll not lose a moment-

Now the wheel we are talking of, and whereinto
(but not nvhereonto, for that would make an Ixion's
wheel of it) he curseth his enemies, according to the
bishop's habit of body, should certainly be a post-
chaise wheel, whether they were set up in Palestine

at that time or not-and my wheel, for the contrary

reasons, must as certainly be a cart-wheel groaning
round its revolution once in an age; and of which
sort, were I to turn commentator, I should make no
scruple to affirm, they had great store in that hilly
country.

I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever
I dare tell my dear Jenny) for their " \upi6iA0v arrb

rou *2ojf/,aroc9 ttg rb xaXojg cfaiXofrofaliv"-Qheir]

"getting out of the body, in order to think well" No
man thinks right, whilst he is in it; blinded as he
must be, with his congenial humours, and drawn
differently aside, as the bishop and myself have

been, with too lax or too tense a fibre-Reason

is, half of it, Sense ; and the measure of heaven itselfOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

63

is but the measure of our present appetites and con-
coctions-

-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.

-C2SSS-

CD&apter jib#

-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 cautious-
ness of one of those little souls from which Lessius (lib.
13, de moribus divinis, cap. 24) hath made his estimate,
wherein he setteth forth, That one Dutch mile, cubically
multiplied, will allow room enough, and to spare, for
eight hundred thousand millions, which he supposes to
be as great a number of souls (counting from the fall
of Adam) as can possibly be damn'd to the end of the
world.

From what he has made this second estimate-

unless from the parental goodness of God—I don't
know—I am much more at a loss what could be in
Franciscus Ribbera9s head, who pretends that no less a
space than one of two hundred Italian miles multiplied
into itself, will be sufficient to hold the like number

-he certainly must have gone upon some of the old

Roman souls, of which he had read, without reflecting
how much, by a gradual and most tabid decline, in the
course of eighteen hundred years, they must unavoidably
have shrunk so as to have come, when he wrote, almost
to nothing.

In Lessius9s time, who seems the cooler man, they
were as little as can be imagined-

-We find them less now-64

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

And next winter we shall find them less again; so
that if we go on from little to less, and from less to
nothing, I hesitate not one moment to affirm, that in
half a century, at this rate, we shall have no souls at
all; which being the period beyond which I doubt
likewise of the existence of the Christian faith, 'twill
be one advantage that both of 'em will be exactly worn
out together.

Blessed Jupiter/ and blessed every other heathen
god and goddess! for now ye will all come into play

again, and with Priapus at your tails-what jovial

times!-but where am I ? and into what a delicious

riot of things am I rushing? I-1 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.

—

C&apt**

-—u So hating, I say, to make mysteries of

nothing "-1 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 music—the chimes being
greatly out of order—(as in truth they were through
all France).

And so making all possible speed, from

Ailly au clochers, I got to Hixcourt,

from Hixcourt, I got to Pequignay, and
from Pequignay, I got to Amiens,

concerning which town I have nothing to inform you,OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

65

but what I have informed you once before-and

that was—that Janatone went there to school.

CD&apt**

IN the whole catalogue of those whiffling vexations
which come puffing across a man's canvass, there
is not one of a more teasing and tormenting nature,
than this particular one which I am going to describe

-and for which (unless you travel with an avance-

courier, which numbers do in order to prevent it)-

there is no help : and it is this.

That be you in never so kindly a propensity to sleep

-tho' you are passing perhaps through the finest

country—upon the best roads, and in the easiest

carriage for doing it in the world-nay, was you sure

you could sleep fifty miles straight forwards, without
once opening your eyes—nay, what is more, was you
as demonstratively satisfied as you can be of any truth
in Euclid, that you should upon all accounts be full as

well asleep as awake-nay, perhaps better-Yet

the incessant returns of paying for the horses at every

stage,-with the necessity thereupon of putting your

hand into your pocket, and counting out from thence
three livres fifteen sous (sous by sous), puts an end
to so much of the project, that you cannot execute
above six miles of it (or supposing it is a post and a

half, that is but nine)-were it to save your soul

from destruction.

—I'll be even with 'em, quoth I, for I'll put the
precise sum into a piece of paper, and hold it ready in
my hand all the way: " Now I shall have nothing to
do," said I (composing myself to rest), "but to drop
this gently into the post-boy's hat, and not say a

III.	E66

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

word."-Then there wants two sous more to drink

-or there is a twelve sous piece of Louis XIV.

which will not pass—or a livre and some odd Hards to
be brought over from the last stage, which Monsieur
had forgot; which altercations (as a man cannot dis-
pute very well asleep) rouse him : still is sweet sleep
retrievable; and still might the flesh weigh down the
spirit, and recover itself of these blows—but then, by-
heaven ! you have paid but for a single post—whereas
'tis a post and a half; and this obliges you to pull out
your book of post-roads, the print of which is so very
small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you
will or no: Then Monsieur le Cure offers you a

pinch of snuff-or a poor soldier shews you his leg

-or a shaveling his box-or the priestess of the

cistern will water your wheels-they do not want it

-but she swears by her priesthood (throwing it back)

that they do:-then you have all these points to

argue, or consider over in your mind; in doing of
which, the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened

-you may get 'em to sleep again as you can.

It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes, or

I had pass'd clean by the stables of Chantilly-

-But the postilion first affirming, and then per-
sisting in it to my face, that there was no mark upon the
two sous piece, I open'd my eyes to be convinced—and
seeing the mark upon it as plain as my nose—I leap'd
out of the chaise in a passion, and so saw every thing at

Chantilly in spite.-1 tried it but for three posts and

a half, but believe 'tis the best principle in the world
to travel speedily upon; for as few objects look very
inviting in that mood—you have little or nothing to
stop you; by which means it was that I passed through
St Dennis, without turning my head so much as on one

side towards the Abby-

——Richness of their treasury ! stuff and nonsense [OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

67

-bating their jewels, which are all false, I would

not give three sous for any one thing in it, but Jaidas's

lantern-nor for that either, only as it grows dark,

it might be of use.

C&apXtx

CRACK, crack-crack, crack-crack, crack

-so this is Paris ! quoth I (continuing in

the same mood)—and this is Paris /-

humph!-Paris / cried I, repeating the name the

third time-

The first, the finest, the most brilliant-

The streets however are nasty.

But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells-

crack, crack-crack, crack-what a fuss thou

makest!—as if it concerned the good people to be
informed, that a man with pale face and clad in black,
had the honour to be driven into Paris at nine o'clock
at night, by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin,

turned up with red calamanco—crack, crack-crack,

crack-crack, crack,-1 wish thy whip-

-But 'tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack—

crack on.

Ha !--and no one gives the wall!-but in the

School of Urbanity herself, if the walls are besh-t—
how can you do otherwise ?

And prithee when do they light the lamps ? What ?

—never in the summer months !-Ho ! 'tis the time

of sallads.-O rare ! sallad and soup—soup and

sallad—sallad and soup, encore-

-'Tis too much for sinners.

Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can
that unconscionable coachman talk so much bawdy to
that lean horse ? don't you see, friend, the streets are68

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

so villainously narrow, that there is not room in all
Paris to turn a wheelbarrow ? In the grandest city of
the whole world, it would not have been amiss, if they
had been left a thought wider; nay, were it only so
much in every single street, as that a man might know
(was it only for satisfaction) on which side of it he
was walking.

One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight
—nine—ten.—Ten cook's shops! and twice the number
of barbers ! and all within three minutes driving! one
would think that all the cooks in the world, on some
great merry-meeting with the barbers, by joint consent
had said—Come, let us all go live at Paris : the French

love good eating-they are all gourmands-we

shall rank high; if their god is their belly--their

cooks must be gentlemen : and forasmuch as the peri-
wig maketh the man, and the periwig-maker maketh the
periwig—ergo, would the barbers say, we shall rank
higher still—we shall be above you all—we shall
be * Capitouls at least—pardi 1 we shall all wear
swords-

—And so, one would swear (that is, by candle
light,—but there is no depending upon it) they con-
tinue to do, to this day.

THE French are certainly misunderstood :-but

whether the fault is theirs, in not sufficiently
explaining themselves; or speaking with that
exact limitation and precision which one would expect
on a point of such importance, and which, moreover,
is so likely to be contested by us-or whether the

* Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, &c. &c. &c.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

69

fault may not be altogether on our side, in not under-
standing their language always so critically as to know

" what they would be at"-1 shall not decide ; but

'tis evident to me, when they affirm, " That they 'who
have seen Paris, have seen every thing " they must mean
to speak of those who have seen it by day-light.

As for candle-light—I give it up-1 have said

before, there was no depending upon it—and I repeat
it again; but not because the lights and shades are too
sharp—or the tints confounded—or that there is neither
beauty or keeping, &c. ... for that's not truth—but
it is an uncertain light in this respect, That in all the
five hundred grand Hotels, which they number up to
you in Paris—and the five hundred good things, at a
modest computation (for 'tis only allowing one good
thing to a H6tel), which by candle-light are best to be
seen, felt, heard, and understood (which, by the bye, is a

quotation from Lilly)-the devil a one of us out of

fifty, can get our heads fairly thrust in amongst them.

This is no part of the French computation: 'tis
simply this,

That by the last survey taken in the year one
thousand seven hundred and sixteen, since which time
there have been considerable augmentations, Paris doth
contain nine hundred streets; (viz.)

In the quarter called the City—there are fifty-three

streets.

In St James of the Shambles, fifty-five streets.

In St Oportune> thirty-four streets.

In the quarter of the Louvre, twenty-five streets.
In the Palace Royal, or St Honorius, forty-nine

streets.

In Mont. Martyr, forty-one streets.

In St Eustace, twenty-nine streets.

In the Halles, twenty-seven streets.

In St Dennis, fifty-five streets.7o

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

In St Martin, fifty-four streets.

In St Paul, or the Mortellerie, twenty-seven streets.

The Grevey thirty-eight streets.

In St Avoy, or the Verrerie, nineteen streets.

In the Marais, or the Temple, fifty-two streets.

In St Antony*s, sixty-eight streets.

In the Place Maubert, eighty-one streets.

In St Bennet, sixty streets.

In St Andrews de Arcs, fifty-one streets.

In the quarter of the Luxembourg, sixty-two streets.

And in that of St Germain, fifty-five streets, into any

of which you may walk; and that when you have seen

them with all that belongs to them, fairly by day-light

—their gates, their bridges, their squares, their statues

---and have crusaded it moreover, through all their

parish-churches, by no means omitting St Roche and

Sulpice---and to crown all, have taken a walk to the

four palaces, which you may see, either with or without
the statues and pictures, just as you chuse—

-Then you will have seen-

-but, 'tis what no one needeth to tell you, for

you will read of it yourself upon the portico of the
Louvre, in these words,

* EARTH NO SUCH FOLKS ! -NO FOLKS E'ER SUCH A

TOWN

AS PARIS IS !-SING, DERRY, DERRY, DOWN.

The French have a gay way of treating every thing
that is Great; and that is all can be said upon it.

* Non orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullara
—--—--ulla parem.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

71

IN mentioning the word gay (as in the close of the
last chapter) it puts one (/.*. an author) in mind of

the word spleen-especially if he has any thing

to say upon it: not that by any analysis—or that from
any table of interest or genealogy, there appears much
more ground of alliance betwixt them, than betwixt
light and darkness, or any two of the most unfriendly

opposites in nature-only 'tis an undercraft of authors

to keep up a good understanding amongst words, as
politicians do amongst men—not knowing how near
they may be under a necessity of placing them to each

other-which point being now gain'd, and that I

may place mine exactly to my mind, I write it down
here—

SPLEEN.

This, upon leaving Chantilly, I declared to be the
best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; but
I gave it only as matter of opinion. I still continue in
the same sentiments—only I had not then experience
enough of its working to add this, that though you do
get on at a tearing rate, yet you get on but uneasily to
yourself at the same time; for which reason I here quit
it entirely, and for ever, and 'tis heartily at any one's
service—it has spoiled me the digestion of a good supper,
and brought on a bilious diarrhoea, which has brought me

back again to my first principle on which I set out-

and with which I shall now scamper it away to the
banks of the Garonne—

-No;-1 cannot stop a moment to give you

the character of the people—their genius-their72

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

manners—their customs—their laws-their religion—•

their government—their manufactures—their commerce
—their finances, with all the resources and hidden springs
which sustain them : qualified as I may be, by spending
three days and two nights amongst them, and during all
that time making these things the entire subject of my

enquiries and reflections-

Still—still I must away-the roads are paved—•

the posts are short—the days are long—'tis no more
than noon—I shall be at Fontainbleau before the
king-

—Was he going there ? not that I know-

CD&apter yjc,

NOW I hate to hear a person, especially if he be a
traveller, complain that we do not get on so fast
in France as we do in England; whereas we
get on much faster, consideratis considerandis ; thereby
always meaning, that if you weigh their vehicles with
the mountains of baggage which you lay both before
and behind upon them—and then consider their puny
horses, with the very little they give them—'tis a
wonder they get on at all: their suffering is most
unchristian, and 'tis evident thereupon to me, that a
French post-horse would not know what in the world
to do, was it not for the two words ****** and
****** which there is as much sustenance, as if
you gave him a peck of corn: now as these words
cost nothing, I long from my soul to tell the reader
what they are; but here is the question—they must
be told him plainly, and with the most distinct articula-
tion, or it will answer no end—and yet to do it in
that plain way—though their reverences may laugh atOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

73

it in the bed-chamber—full well I wot, they will abuse
it in the parlour: for which cause, I have been volv-
ing and revolving in my fancy some time, but to no
purpose, by what clean device or facette contrivance 1
might so modulate them, that whilst I satisfy that ear
which the reader chuses to lend me—I might not dis-
satisfy the other which he keeps to himself.

-My ink burns my finger to try-and when

I have-'twill have a worse consequence-it will

burn (I fear) my paper.

-No;-1 dare not-

But if you wish to know how the abbess of Andouillets
and a novice of her convent got over the difficulty (only
first wishing myself all imaginable success)—I'll tell you
without the least scruple.

C&apter wi.

THE abbess of Andouillets, which, if you look into
the large set of provincial maps now publishing
at Paris, you will find situated amongst the hills
which divide Burgundy from Savoy, being in danger of
an Anchylosis or stiff joint (the sinovia of her knee
becoming hard by long matins), and having tried every

remedy-first, prayers and thanksgiving; then

invocations to all the saints in heaven promiscuously

-then particularly to every saint who had ever had

a stiff leg before her-then touching it with all the

reliques of the convent, principally with the thigh-bone
of the man of Lystra9 who had been impotent from his

youth-then wrapping it up in her veil when she went

to bed—then cross-wise her rosary—then bringing in to
her aid the secular arm, and anointing it with oils and
hot fat of animals-then treating it with emollient74

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

and resolving fomentations-then with poultices

of marsh-mallows, mallows, bonus Henricus, white
lillies and fenugreek—then taking the woods, I mean
the smoak of 'em, holding her scapulary across her lap

-then decoctions of wild chicory, water-cresses,

chervil, sweet cecily and cochlearia-and nothing all

this while answering, was prevailed on at last to try the

hot baths of Bourbon-so having first obtain'd leave

of the visitor-general to take care of her existence—•
she ordered all to be got ready for her journey: a novice
of the convent of about seventeen, who had been troubled
with a whitloe in her middle finger, by sticking it
constantly into the abbess's cast poultices, &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 sun
—the gardener of the convent being chosen muleteer,
led out the two old mules, to clip the hair from the
rump-ends of their tails, whilst a couple of lay-sisters
were busied, the one in darning the lining, and the
other in sewing on the shreds of yellow binding, which

the teeth of time had unravelled-the under-gardener

dress'd the muleteer's hat in hot wine-lees-and a

taylor sat musically at it, in a shed over-against the
convent, in assorting four dozen of bells for the harness,
whistling to each bell, as he tied it on with a thong.-

-The carpenter and the smith of Andouillets held

a council of wheels; and by seven, the morning after,
all look'd spruce, and was ready at the gate of the
convent for the hot-baths of Bourbon—two rows of
the unfortunate stood ready there an hour before.

The abbess of Andouillets, supported by Margarita
the novice, advanced slowly to the calesh, both cladOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

75

in white, with their black rosaries hanging at their
breasts-

-There was a simple solemnity in the contrast:

they entered the calesh ; and nuns in the same uniform,
sweet emblem of innocence, each occupied a window,
and as the abbess and Margarita look'd up—each (the
sciatical poor nun excepted)—each stream'd out the end
of her veil in the air—then kiss'd the lilly hand which
let it go: the good abbess and Margarita laid their
hands saint-wise upon their breasts—look'd up to heaven
—then to them—and look'd " God bless you, dear
sisters."

I declare I am interested in this story, and wish I
had been there.

The gardener, whom I shall now call the muleteer,
was a little, hearty, broad-set, good-natured, chattering,
toping kind of a fellow, who troubled his head very
little with the hows and whens of life; so had mort-
gaged a month of his conventical wages in a borrachio,
or leathern cask of wine, which he had disposed behind
the calesh, with a large russet-coloured riding-coat over
it, to guard it from the sun; and as the weather was
hot, and he not a niggard of his labours, walking ten
times more than he rode—he found more occasions
than those of nature, to fall back to the rear of his
carriage ; till by frequent coming and going, it had so
happen'd, that all his wine had leak'd out at the legal
vent of the borrachio, before one half of the journey
was finish'd.

Man is a creature born to habitudes. The day had
been sultry—the evening was delicious—the wine was
generous—the Burgundian hill on which it grew was
steep—a little tempting bush over the door of a cool
cottage at the foot of it, hung vibrating in full harmony
with the passions—a gentle air rustled distinctly through
the leaves—"Come—come, thirsty muleteer—come in."76

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

—The muleteer was a son of Adam ; I need not say
a word more. He gave the mules, each of 'em, a
sound lash, and looking in the abbess's and Margarita!s
faces (as he did it)—as much as to say " here I am "
—he gave a second good crack—as much as to say to

his mules, " get on "-so slinking behind, he enter'd

the little inn at the foot of the hill.

The muleteer, as I told you, was a little, joyous,
chirping fellow, who thought not of to-morrow, nor
of what had gone before, or what was to follow it,
provided he got but his scantling of Burgundy, and a
little chit-chat along with it; so entering into a long
conversation, as how he was chief gardener to the con-
vent of Andouillets, &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 devotions—and 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 leg—she might as well be lame of both—
&c. &c. &c.—He so contrived his story, as absolutely
to forget the heroine of it—and with her the little
novice, and what was a more ticklish point to be forgot
than both—the two mules; who being creatures that
take advantage of the world, inasmuch as their parents
took it of them—and they not being in a condition to
return the obligation downwards (as men and women
and beasts are)—they do it side-ways, and long-ways,
and back-ways — and up hill, and down hill, and

which way they can.-Philosophers, with all their

ethicks, have never considered this rightly—how should
the poor muleteer, then in his cups, consider it at all ?
he did not in the least—'tis time we do; let us leave
him then in the vortex of his element, the happiest
and most thoughtless of mortal men-and for aOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

77

moment let us look after the mules, the abbess, and
Margarita.

By virtue of the muleteer's two last strokes the
mules had gone quietly on, following their own con-
sciences up the hill, till they had conquer'd about one
half of it; when the elder of them, a shrewd crafty
old devil, at the turn of an angle, giving a side glance,
and no muleteer behind them-

By my fig! said she, swearing, I'll go no further

-And if I do, replied the other, they shall make a

drum of my hide.-

And so with one consent they stopp'd thus-

->&%&—

C&apter wif.

-Get on with you, said the abbess.

-Wh----ysh-ysh-cried Margarita.

Sh---a-shu - u-shu - - u—sh - - aw-

shaw'd the abbess.

-Whu—v— w-whew — w—w — whuv'd

Margarita, pursing up her sweet lips betwixt a hoot and
a whistle.

Thump—thump—thump—obstreperated the abbess
of Andouillets with the end of her gold-headed cane
against the bottom of the calesh-

The old mule let a f—

CD&ap tzx ppiiu

WE are ruin'd and undone, my child, said the

abbess to Margarita,-we shall be here

all night-we shall be plunder'd-we

shall be ravish'd-78

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

-We shall be ravish'd, said Margarita, as sure

as a gun.

Sand a Maria / cried the abbess (forgetting the 0 /)
—why was I govern'd by this wicked stiff joint ? why
did I leave the convent of Andouillets P and why didst
thou not suffer thy servant to go unpolluted to her
tomb ?

O my finger ! my finger ! cried the novice, catching
fire at the word servant—why was I not content to
put it here, or there, any where rather than be in this
strait ?

Strait! said the abbess.

Strait-said the novice; for terror had struck

their understandings-the one knew not what she

said-the other what she answer'd.

O my virginity ! virginity ! cried the abbess.

-inity !-inity ! said the novice, sobbing.

Chapter

MY dear mother, quoth the novice, coming a little

to herself,-there are two certain words,

which I have been told will force any horse,
or ass, or mule, to go up a hill whether he will or no;
be he never so obstinate or ill-willed, the moment he
hears them utter'd, he obeys. They are words magic !
cried the abbess in the utmost horror—No ; replied
Margarita calmly—but they are words sinful—What
are they ? quoth the abbess, interrupting her: They
are sinful in the first degree, answered Margarita,—
they are mortal—and if we are ravish'd and die un-
absolved of them, we shall both-but you may

pronounce them to me, quoth the abbess of Andouillets
-They cannot, my dear mother, said the novice,OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

79

be pronounced at all ; they will make all the blood in
one's body fly up into one's face—But you may whisper
them fh 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 unemployed-no agent in nature,

by some monitory shivering, creeping along the artery
which led to his heart, to rouse the muleteer from his

banquet?-no sweet ministrelsy to bring back the

fair idea of the abbess and Margarita, with their black
rosaries!

Rouse! rouse!-but 'tis too late—the horrid

words are pronounced this moment-

-and how to tell them—Ye, who can speak of

every thing existing, with unpolluted lips—instruct me
-guide me-

CJapter wb.

ALL sins whatever, quoth the abbess, turning casuist
L in the distress they were under, are held by the
confessor of our convent to be either mortal or
venial: there is no further division. Now a venial sin
being the slightest and least of all sins—being halved—
by taking either only the half of it, and leaving the rest
—or, by taking it all, and amicably halving it betwixt
yourself and another person—in course becomes diluted
into no sin at all.

Now I see no sin in saying, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou,
a hundred times together; nor is there any turpitude in
pronouncing the syllable ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, were it
from our matins to our vespers: Therefore, my dear
daughter, continued the abbess of Andoulllets—I will
say bou, and thou shalt say ger; and then alternately, as
there is no more sin in fou than in bou—Thou shalt say8o

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

fou—and I will come in (like fa, sol, la, re, mi, ut, at
our complines) with ter. And accordingly the abbess,
giving the pitch note, set off thus:

Abbess, ) Bou - - bou - - bou - -

Margarita, J-ger, - - ger, - - ger.

Margarita, ) Fou - - fou - - fou - -
Abbess, j-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 still—God preserve me; said the abbess—
They do not understand us, cried Margarita—But the
Devil does, said the abbess of Andouillets.

CD&apttx wtot

WHAT a tract of country have I run!—how
many degrees nearer to the warm sun am I
advanced, and how many fair and goodly
cities have I seen, during the time you have been read-
ing, and reflecting, Madam, upon this story! There's
Fontainbleau, and Sens, and Joigny, and Auxerre,
and Dijon the capital of Burgundy, and Challon, and
Macon the capital of the Maconese, and a score more

upon the road to Lyons-and now I have run them

over-1 might as well talk to you of so many market

towns in the moon, as tell you one word about them:OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

8l

it will be this chapter at the least, if not both this and

the next entirely lost, do what I will-

—Why, 'tis a strange story ! Tristram.

--Alas ! Madam,

had it been upon some melancholy lecture of the cross
—the peace of meekness, or the contentment of resigna-
tion-1 had not been incommoded: or had I thought

of writing it upon the purer abstractions of the soul, and
that food of wisdom and holiness and contemplation,
upon which the spirit of man (when separated from the

body) is to subsist for ever-You would have come

with a better appetite from it-

-1 wish I never had wrote it: but as I never

blot any thing out-let us use some honest means to

get it out of our heads directly.

-Pray reach me my fool's cap-1 fear you sit

upon it, Madam-'tis under the cushion-I'll put

it on-

Blesa me! you have had it upon your head this half

hour.-There then let it stay, with a

Fa-ra diddle di
and a fa-ri diddle d
and a high-dum—dye-dum
fiddle - - - dumb - c.

And now, Madam, we may venture, I hope, a little to
go on.

Chapter pjcbtj*

-All you need say of Fontainbleau (in case you

are ask'd) is, that it stands about forty miles (south
something) from Paris, in the middle of a large forest

-That there is something great in it-That the

king goes there once every two or three years, with his
whole court, for the pleasure of the chase—and that,

III.	F82

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

during that carnival of sporting, any English gentle-
man 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 I

As for Sens-you may dispatch—in a word

--iC 'Tis an archiepiscopal see."

-For Joigny—the less, I think, one says of it

the better.

But for Auxerre—I could go on for ever: for in
my grand tour through Europe, in which, after all, my
father (not caring to trust me with any one) attended
me himself, with my uncle Toby, and Trim, and
Obadiah, and indeed most of the family, except my
mother, who being taken up with a project of knitting
my father a pair of large worsted breeches—(the thing
is common sense)—and she not caring to be put out of
her way, she staid at home, at Shandy Hall, to keep
things right during the expedition; in which, I say,
my father stopping us two days at Auxerre, and his
researches being ever of such a nature, that they would

have found fruit even in a desert-he has left me

enough to say upon Auxerre : in short, wherever my

father went-but 'twas more remarkably so, in this

journey through France and Italy, than in any other

stages of his life-his road seemed to lie so much on

one side of that, wherein all other travellers have gone
before him—he saw kings and courts and silks of all

colours, in such strange lights-and his remarks and

reasonings upon the characters, the manners, and cus-
toms of the countries we pass'd over, were so opposite
to those of all other mortal men, particularly thoseOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

83

of my uncle Toby and Trim—(to say nothing of my-
self)—and to crown all—the occurrences and scrapes
which we were perpetually meeting and getting into, in
consequence of his systems and opiniatry—they were
of so odd, so mix'd and tragi-comical a contexture—
That the whole put together, it appears of so different
a shade and tint from any tour of Europe, which was
ever executed—that I will venture to pronounce—the
fault must be mine and mine only—if it be not read by
all travellers and travel-readers, till travelling is no
more,—or which comes to the same point—till the
world, finally, takes it into its head to stand still.-

-But this rich bale is not to be open'd now;

except a small thread or two of it, merely to unravel
the mystery of my father's stay at Auxerre.

-As I have mentioned it—'tis too slight to be

kept suspended; and when 'tis wove in, there is an
end of it.

We'll go, brother Toby, said my father, whilst
dinner is coddling—to the abby of Saint Germain, if it
be only to see these bodies, of which Monsieur Sequier

has given such a recommendation.-I'll go see any

body, quoth my uncle Toby ; for he was all compliance

through every step of the journey-Defend me!

said my father—they are all mummies-Then one

need not shave ; quoth my uncle Toby-Shave ! no

—cried my father—'twill be more like relations to
go with our beards on—So out we sallied, the corporal
lending his master his arm, and bringing up the rear, to
the abby of Saint Germain,

Every thing is very fine, and very .rich, and very
superb, and very magnificent, said my father, addressing
himself to the sacristan, who was a younger brother of
the order of Benedictines—but our curiosity has led us
to see the bodies, of which Monsieur Sequier has given
the world so exact a description.—The sacristan made84

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

a bow, and lighting a torch first, which he had always
in the vestry ready for the purpose; he led us into

the tomb of St Heribald-This, said the sacristan,

laying his hand upon the tomb, was a renowned prince
of the house of Bavaria, who under the successive
reigns of Charlemagne, Louis le Debonnair, and Charles
the Bald, bore a great sway in the government, and had
a principal hand in bringing every thing into order and
discipline-

Then he has been as great, said my uncle, in the

field, as in the cabinet-1 dare say he has been

a gallant soldier-He was a monk—said the sac-
ristan.

My uncle Toby and Trim sought comfort in each
other's faces—but found it not: my father clapped
both his hands upon his cod-piece, which was a way
he had when any thing hugely tickled him : for though
he hated a monk and the very smell of a monk worse

than all the devils in hell-yet the shot hitting my

uncle Toby and Trim so much harder than him, 'twas
a relative triumph; and put him into the gayest humour
in the world.

-And pray what do you call this gentleman ?

quoth my father, rather sportingly: This tomb, said
the young Benedictine, looking downwards, contains
the bones of Saint Maxima, who came from Ravenna
on purpose to touch the body--

-Of Saint Maximus, said my father, popping

in with his saint before him,—they were two of the
greatest saints in the whole martyrology, added my

father-Excuse me, said the sacristan-

'twas to touch the bones of Saint Germain, the builder

of the abby-And what did she get by it ? said my

uncle Toby-What does any woman get by it ? said

my father-Martyrdome ; replied the young Bene-
dictine, making a bow down to the ground, and utteringOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

85

the word with so humble, but decisive a cadence, it
disarmed my father for a moment. 'Tis supposed,
continued the Benedictine, that St Maxima has lain in
this tomb four hundred years, and two hundred before

her canonization-'Tis but a slow rise, brother Toby,

quoth my father, in this self-same army of martyrs.

-A desperate slow one, an' please your honour,

said Trim, unless one could purchase-1 should

rather sell out entirely, quoth my uncle Toby-1 am

pretty much of your opinion, brother Toby, said my
father.

-Poor St Maxima ! said my uncle Toby low to

himself, as we turn'd from her tomb: She was one of
the fairest and most beautiful ladies either of Italy or

France, continued the sacristan-But who the duce

has got lain down here, besides her ? quoth my father,
pointing with his cane to a large tomb as we walked
on-It is Saint Optat, Sir, answered the sacris-
tan-And properly is Saint Optat plac'd 1 said

my father: And what is Saint Optat*s story ? con-
tinued he. Saint Optat, replied the sacristan, was a
bishop-

-1 thought so, by heaven! cried my father, in-
terrupting him-Saint Optat /-how should Saint

Optat fail ? so snatching out his pocket-book, and the
young Benedictine holding him the torch as he wrote,
he set it down as a new prop to his system of Christian
names, and I will be bold to say, so disinterested was
he in the search of truth, that had he found a treasure
in Saint Optat*s tomb, it would not have made him half
so rich: 'Twas as successful a short visit as ever was
paid to the dead; and so highly was his fancy pleas'd
with all that had passed in it,—that he determined at
once to stay another day in Auxerre.

—I'll see the rest of these good gentry to-morrow,
said my father, as we cross'd over the square—And86

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

while you are paying that visit, brother Shandy, quoth
my uncle Toby—the corporal and I will mount the
ramparts.

Chapter ppbttj*

-'KTOW this is the most puzzled skein of all

-for in this last chapter, as far at least

as it has help'd me through Auxerre, I
have been getting forwards in two different journies
together, and with the same dash of the pen—for I
have got entirely out of Auxerre in this journey which
I am writing now, and I am got half way out of Auxerre

in that which I shall write hereafter-There is but

a certain degree of perfection in every thing; and by
pushing at something beyond that, I have brought my-
self 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 dinner-and I am this

moment also entering Lyons with my post-chaise broke
into a thousand pieces—and I am moreover this
moment in a handsome pavillion built by Pringello,*
upon the banks of the Garonne, which Mons. Sligniac
has lent me, and where I now sit rhapsodising all these
affairs.

-Let me collect myself, and pursue my journey.

* 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. 129,
small edit.

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

87

Chapter wty,

I AM glad of it, said I, settling the account with

myself, as I walk'd into Lyons-my chaise

being all laid higgledy-piggledy with my baggage

in a cart, which was moving slowly before me-1

am heartily glad, said I, that 'tis all broke to pieces;
for now I can go directly by water to Avignon, which
will carry me on a hundred and twenty miles of my

journey, and not cost me seven livres-and from

thence, continued I, bringing forwards the account, I
can hire a couple of mules—or asses, if I like, (for
nobody knows me) and cross the plains of Languedoc

for almost nothing-1 shall gain four hundred livres

by the misfortune clear into my purse: and pleasure!
worth—worth double the money by it. With what
velocity, continued I, clapping my two hands together,
shall I fly down the rapid 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 Cote roti, as I
shoot by the foot of them ! and what a fresh spring in
the blood! to behold upon the banks advancing and
retiring, the castles of romance, whence courteous

knights have whilome rescued the distress'd-and

see vertiginous, the rocks, the mountains, the cataracts,
and all the hurry which Nature is in with all her great
works about her.

As I went on thus, methought my chaise, the wreck
of which look'd stately enough at the first, insensibly
grew less and less in its size; the freshness of the
painting was no more—the gilding lost its lustre—and
the whole affair appeared so poor in my eyes—so
sorry!—so contemptible! and, in a word, so much88

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

worse than the abbess of Andouillets' itself—that I was
just opening my mouth to give it to the devil—when a
pert vamping chaise-undertaker, stepping nimbly across
the street, demanded if Monsieur would have his chaise

refitted-No, no, said I, shaking my head sideways

—Would Monsieur chuse to sell it? rejoined the
undertaker—With all my soul, said I—the iron work
is worth forty livres—and the glasses worth forty more
—and the leather you may take to live on.

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 befal 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 pass'd-'Tis enough, Tristram, and I

am satisfied, saidst thou, whispering these words in

rr.Tr Mr **** ** **** **# ****** ._**** ** **

my wd.19	9

-any other man would have sunk down to the

center-

-Every thing is good for something, quoth I.

-I'll go into Wales for six weeks, and drink

goat's whey—and I'll gain seven years longer life for
the accident. For which reason I think myself inex-
cusable, for blaming fortune so often as I have done,
for pelting me all my life long, like an ungracious
duchess, as I call'd her, with so many small evils:
surely, if I have any cause to be angry with her, 'tis
that she has not sent me great ones—a score of good
cursed, bouncing losses, would have been as good as a
pension to me.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

89

-One of a hundred a year, or so, is all I wish—

I would not be at the plague of paying land-tax for a
larger.

C&apter wj:.

TO those who call vexations, vexations, as
knowing what they are, there could not be a
greater, than to be the best part of a day at
Lyons, the most opulent and flourishing city in France,
enriched with the most fragments of antiquity—and not
be able to see it. To be withheld upon any account,
must be a vexation; but to be withheld by a vexation
-must certainly be, what philosophy justly calls

VEXATION

upon

VEXATION.

I had got my two dishes of milk coffee (which by
the bye is excellently good for a consumption, but you
must boil the milk and coffee together—otherwise 'tis
only coffee and milk)—and as it was no more than
eight in the morning, and the boat did not go off till
noon, I had time to see enough of Lyons to tire the
patience of all the friends I had in the world with it.
I will take a walk to the cathedral, said I, looking at
my list, and see the wonderful mechanism of this great

clock of Lippius of Basil, in the first place-

Now, of all things in the world, I understand the

least of mechanism-1 have neither genius, or taste,

or fancy—and have a brain so entirely unapt for every
thing of that kind, that I solemnly declare I was never
yet able to comprehend the principles of motion of a9°

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

squirrel cage, or a common knife-grinder's wheel—tho'
I have many an hour of my life look'd up with great
devotion at the one—and stood by with as much
patience as any christian ever could do, at the
other-

I'll go see the surprising movements of this great
clock, said I, the very first thing I do: and then I will
pay a visit to the great library of the Jesuits, and pro-
cure, if possible, a sight of the thirty volumes of the
general history of China, wrote (not in the Tartarean,
but) in the Chinese language, and in the Chinese char-
acter too.

Now I almost know as little of the Chinese language,
as I do of the mechanism of Lippius's clock-work; so,
why these should have jostled themselves into the two

first articles of my list-1 leave to the curious as a

problem of Nature. I own it looks like one of her
ladyship's obliquities; and they who court her, are
interested in finding out her humour as much as I.

When these curiosities are seen, quoth I, half
addressing myself to my valet de place, who stood be-
hind me-'twill be no hurt if we go to the church of

St Irenaus, and see the pillar to which Christ was tied

-and after that, the house where Pontius Pilate

lived-'Twas at the next town, said the valet de

place—at Vienne ; I am glad of it, said I, rising
briskly from my chair, and walking across the room

with strides twice as long as my usual pace-" for so

much the sooner shall I be at the Tomb of the two
lovers."

What was the cause of this movement, and why I

took such long strides in uttering this-1 might leave

to the curious too; but as no principle of clock-work

is concerned in it-'twill be as well for the reader if

I explain it myself.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

91

Chapter %wu

O. there is a sweet sera in the life of man,
when (the brain being tender and fibrillous, and

more like pap than any thing else)-a story

read of two fond lovers, separated from each other by
cruel parents, and by still more cruel destiny-

Amandus taken captive by the Turks, and carried to
the emperor of Morocco's court, where the princess of
Morocco falling in love with him, keeps him twenty

years in prison for the love of his Amanda.-

She—(Amanda) all the time wandering barefoot,
and with dishevell'd hair, o'er rocks and mountains,

enquiring for Amandus /-Amandus 1 Amandus /—

making every hill and valley to echo back his name-

Amandus ! Amandus J
at every town and city, sitting down forlorn at the gate

--Has Amandus !—has my Amandus enter'd ?-

till,-going round, and round, and round the world

-chance unexpected bringing them at the same

moment of the night, though by different ways, to the
gate of Lyons, their native city, and each in well-
known accents calling out aloud,

they fly into each other's arms, and both drop down
dead for joy.

There is a soft aera in every gentle mortal's life,
where such a story affords more pabulum to the brain,

Amandus-He

Amanda-She-

each ignorant of the other's course,

He-east

She-west

Is Amandus
Is my Amanda92

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

than all the Frusts, and Crusts, and Rusts of antiquity,
which travellers can cook up for it.

-'Twas all that stuck on the right side of the

cullender in my own, of what Spon and others, in
their accounts of Lyons, had strained into it; and
finding, moreover, in some Itinerary, but in what God

knows-That sacred to the fidelity of Amandus and

Amanda, a tomb was built without the gates, where, to
this hour, lovers called upon them to attest their truths

-1 never could get into a scrape of that kind in

my life, but this tomb of the lovers would, somehow or

other, come in at the close-nay such a kind of

empire had it establish'd over me, that I could seldom
think or speak of Lyons—and sometimes not so much
as see even a Lyons-waistcoat, but this remnant of
antiquity would present itself to my fancy; and I have

often said in my wild way of running on-tho' I

fear with some irreverence-" I thought this shrine

(neglected as it was) as valuable as that of Mecca, and
so little short, except in wealth, of the Santa Casa
itself, that some time or other, I would go a pilgrimage
(though I had no other business at Lyons) on purpose
to pay it a visit."

In my list, therefore, of Videnda at Lyons, this, tho'
last,—was not, you see, least; so taking a dozen or
two of longer strides than usual across my room, just
whilst it passed my brain, I walked down calmly into
the Basse Cour, in order to sally forth; and having
called for my bill—as it was uncertain whether I
should return to my inn, I had paid it-had more-
over given the maid ten sous, and was just receiving
the dernier compliments of Monsieur Le Blanc, for a

pleasant voyage down the Rhone-when I was

stopped at the gate-

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY,

93

C&apter rwiu

_I VWAS by a poor ass, who had just turned

J[ in with a couple of large panniers upon
his back, to collect eleemosynary turnip-
tops and cabbage-leaves; and stood dubious, with his
two fore-feet on the inside of the threshold, and with
his two hinder feet towards the street, as not knowing
very well whether he was to go in or no.

Now, 'tis an animal (be in what hurry I may) I

cannot bear to strike-there is a patient endurance

of sufferings, wrote so unaffectedly in his looks and
carriage, which pleads so mightily for him, that it
always disarms me; and to that degree, that I do not
like to speak unkindly to him: on the contrary, meet
him where I will—whether in town or country—in
cart or under panniers—whether in liberty or bondage

-1 have ever something civil to say to him on my

part; and as one word begets another (if he has as

little to do as I)-1 generally fall into conversation

with him; and surely never is my imagination so busy
as in framing his responses from the etchings of his
countenance—and where those carry me not deep

enough-in flying from my own heart into his, and

seeing what is natural for an ass to think—as well as
a man, upon the occasion. In truth, it is the only
creature of all the classes of beings below me, with

whom I can do this : for parrots, jackdaws, &c.-

I never exchange a word with them-nor with the

apes, &c., for pretty near the same reason; they act
by rote, as the others speak by it, and equally make me
silent: nay my dog and my cat, though I value them

both-(and for my dog he would speak if he could)

—yet somehow or other, they neither of them possess
the talents for conversation-1 can make nothing of94

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

a discourse with them, beyond the proposition, the reply,
and rejoinder, which terminated my father's and my

mother's conversations, in his beds of justice-and

those utter'd-there's an end of the dialogue-

—But with an ass, I can commune for ever.

Come, Honesty / said I,-seeing it was impractic-
able to pass betwixt him and the gate-art thou for

coming in, or going out ?

The ass twisted his head round to look up the
street-

Well—replied I—we'll wait a minute for thy driver :

-He turned his head thoughtful about, and

looked wistfully the opposite way-

I understand thee perfectly, answered I-If thou

takest a wrong step in this affair, he will cudgel thee

to death-Well! a minute is but a minute, and if it

saves a fellow-creature a drubbing, it shall not be set
down as ill spent.

He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this
discourse went on, and in the little peevish contentions
of nature betwixt hunger and unsavouriness, had dropt
it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and pick'd it

up again-God help thee, Jack! said I, thou hast

a bitter breakfast on't—and many a bitter day's labour,

—and many a bitter blow, I fear, for its wages-'tis

all—all bitterness to thee, whatever life is to others.

-And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of it,

is as bitter, I dare say, as soot—(for he had cast aside
the stem) and thou hast not a friend perhaps in all this

world, that will give thee a macaroon.-In saying

this, I pull'd out a paper of 'em, which I had just
purchased, and gave him one—and at this moment that
I am telling it, my heart smites me, that there was
more of pleasantry in the conceit, of seeing how an ass

would eat a macaroon-than of benevolence in giving

him one, which presided in the act.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

95

When the ass had eaten his macaroon, 1 press'd

him to come in-the poor beast was heavy loaded

-his legs seem'd to tremble under him-he hung

rather backwards, and as I pull'd at his halter, it broke

short in my hand-he look'd up pensive in my face

—"Don't thrash me with it—but if you will, you

may"-If I do, said I, I'll be d-d.

The word was but one-half of it pronounced, like
the abbess of Andouillets'—(so there was no sin in it)
—when a person coming in, let fall a thundering bas-
tinado upon the poor devil's crupper, which put an
end to the ceremony.

Out upon it /

cried I-but the interjection was equivocal-and,

I think, wrong placed too—for the end of an osier
which had started out from the contexture of the ass's
pannier, had caught hold of my breeches pocket, as he
rush'd by me, and rent it in the most disastrous direc-
tion you can imagine-so that the

Out upon it I 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.

Chapter miih

WHEN all was set to rights, I came down stairs
again into the basse cour with my valet de
place, in order to sally out towards the tomb
of the two lovers, &c.—and was a second time stopp'd96

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

at the gate-not by the ass—but by the person who

struck him; and who, by that time, had taken posses-
sion (as is not uncommon after a defeat) of the very
spot of ground where the ass stood.

It was a commissary sent to me from the post-office,
with a rescript in his hand for the payment of some six
livres odd sous.

Upon what account ? said I.-'Tis upon the part

of the king, replied the commissary, heaving up both

his shoulders-

-My good friend, quoth I-as sure as I am

I—and you are you-

-And who are you ? said he.-Don't

puzzle me; said I.

Chapter jwb*

-But it is an indubitable verity, continued I,

addressing myself to the commissary, changing only

the form of my asseveration-that I owe the king

of France nothing but my good-will; for he is a very
honest man, and I wish him all health and pastime in

the world-

Pardonnez moi—replied the commissary, you are
indebted to him six livres four sous, for the next post
from hence to St Fons, in your route to Avignon—
which being a post royal, you pay double for the
horses and postillion—otherwise 'twould have amounted

to no more than three livres two sous-

-But I don't go by land; said I.

-You may if you please; replied the commis-
sary-

Your most obedient servant-said I, making him

a low bow-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

97

The commissary, with all the sincerity of grave good

breeding—made me one, as low again.-1 never was

more disconcerted with a bow in my life.

-The devil take the serious character of these

people! quoth I—(aside) they understand no more of

irony than this-

The comparison was standing close by with his
panniers—but something seal'd up my lips—I could not
pronounce the name—

Sir, said I, collecting myself—it is not my intention

to take post-

—But you may—said he, persisting in his first reply

—you may take post if you 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 i
cried I-

I travel by water—I am going down the Rhone this
very afternoon—my baggage is in the boat—apd I have

actually paid nine livres for my passage-—

C'est tout egal—'tis all one ; said he.

Bon Dieu / what, pay for the way I go! and for
the way I do not go!

-C'est tout egal; replied the commissary-

-The devil it is! said I—but I will go to ten

thousand Bastiles first-

0 England! England! thou land of liberty, and
climate of good sense, thou tenderest of mothers—and
gentlest of nurses, cried I, kneeling upon one knee, as
I was beginning my apostrophe.

When the director of Madam Le Blanc s conscience
coming in at that instant, and seeing a person in black,
with a face as pale as ashes, at his devotions—looking
III.	G98

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

still paler by the contrast and distress of his drapery—

ask'd, if I stood in want of the aids of the church-

I go by water—said I—and here's another will be
for making me pay for going by oju

Chapter wto.

AS I perceived the commissary of the post-office
would have his six livres four sous, I had nothing
else for it, but to say some smart thing upon the
occasion, worth the money:

And so I set off thus:-

-And pray, Mr Commissary, by what law of

courtesy is a defenceless stranger to be used just the
reverse from what you use a Frenchman in this matter ?

By no means ; said he.

Excuse me ; said I—for you have begun, Sir, with
first tearing off my breeches—and now you want my
pocket——

Whereas—had you first taken my pocket, as you do
with your own people—and then left me bare a—'d
after—I had been a beast to have complain'd—

As it is-

-'Tis contrary to the law of nature.

-'Tis contrary to reason.

-'Tis contrary to the gospel.

But not to this-said he—putting a printed paper

into my hand,

Par le Roy.

-—'Tis a pithy prolegomenon, quoth I—and

so read on - -- - - - -OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

99

-By all which it appears, quoth I, having read it

over, a little too rapidly, that if a man sets out in a
post-chaise from Paris—he must go on travelling in
one, all the days of his life—or pay for it.—Excuse
me, said the commissary, the spirit of the ordinance is
this—That if you set out with an intention of running
post from Paris to Avignon, &c., you shall not change
that intention or mode of travelling, without first satis-
fying the fermiers for two posts further than the place
you repent at—and 'tis founded, continued he, upon
this, that the revenues are not to fall short through
your fickleness-

-O by heavens! cried I—if fickleness is taxable

in France—we have nothing to do but to make the best
peace with you we can-

and so the peace was made;

-And if it is a bad one—as Tristram Shandy

laid the corner-stone of it—nobody but Tristram Shandy
ought to be hanged.

-om&-

C&apter

THOUGH I was sensible I had said as many clever
things to the commissary as came to six livres
four sous, yet I was determined to note down the
imposition amongst my remarks before I retired from
the place; so putting my hand into my coat-pocket for
my remarks—(which, by the bye, may be a caution to
travellers to take a little more care of their remarks for

the future) "my remarks were stolen"-Never

did sorry traveller make such a pother and racketiqo

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

about his remarks as I did about mine, upon the
occasion.

Heaven! earth! sea! fire! cried I, calling in

every thing to my aid but what I should-My

remarks are stolen ! — what shall I do ?-Mr.

Commissary! pray did I drop any remarks, as I stood

besides you ?-

You dropp'd a good many very singular ones ; replied

he-Pugh ! said I, those were but a few, not worth

above six livres two sous—but these are a large parcel

-He shook his head-Monsieur Le Blanc!

Madam Le Blanc ! did you see any papers of mine ?—
you maid of the house! run up stairs—Frangois / run

up after her-

—I must have my remarks-they were the best

remarks, cried I, that ever were made—the wisest—the
wittiest—What shall I do?—which way shall I turn
myself ?

Sancho Panga, when he lost his ass's furniture, did
not exclaim more bitterly.

GD&apter wftoiU

WHEN the first transport was over, and the
registers of the brain were beginning to get
a little out of the confusion into which this
jumble of cross accidents had cast them—it then
presently occurr'd to me, that I had left my remarks
in the pocket of the chaise—and that in selling my
chaise, I had sold my remarks along with it, to the
chaise-vamper.	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 thinkOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

IOI

it was into that-*********, said I—and so my

remarks through France, which were as full of wit, as
an egg is full of meat, and as well worth four hundred
guineas, as the said egg is worth a penny—have I been
selling here to a chaise-vamper—for four Louis d'Ors
•—and giving him a post-chaise (by heaven) worth six
into the bargain; had it been to Dodsley, or Becket, or any
creditable bookseller, who was either leaving off business,
and wanted a post-chaise—or who was beginning it
—and wanted my remarks, and two or three guineas

along with them—I could have borne it-but to a

chaise-vamper!—shew me to him this moment, Francois,
—said I—The valet de place put on his hat, and led
the way—and I pull'd off mine, as I pass'd the com-
missary, and followed him.

Chapter

WHEN we arrived at the chaise-vamper's house,
both the house and the shop were shut up ; it
was the eighth of September, the nativity of the
blessed Virgin Mary, mother of God—

-Tantarra-ra-tan-tivi-the whole world was

gone out a May-poling—frisking here—capering there

-nobody cared a button for me or my remarks; so

I sat me down upon a bench by the door, philosophating
upon my condition: by a better fate than usually attends
me, I had not waited half an hour, when the mistress
came in to take the papilliotes from off her hair, before

she went to the May-poles-

The French women, by the bye, love May-poles, a

la folie—that is, as much as their matins-give 'em

but a May-pole, whether in May, June, July, or
September—they never count the times-down it102

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

goes-'tis meat, drink, washing, and lodging to 'em

-and had we but the policy, an' please your

worships (as wood is a little scarce in- France), to

send them but plenty of May-poles-

The women would set them up; and when they
had done, they would dance round them (and the
men for company) till they were all blind.

The wife of the chaise-vamper stepp'd in, I told

you, to take the papilliotes from off her hair-the

toilet stands still for no man-so she jerk'd off her

cap, to begin with them as she open'd the door, in

doing which, one of them fell upon the ground-1

instantly saw it was my own writing-

O Seigneur! cried I—you have got all my remarks

upon your head, Madam !-J* en wis bien mortifiee>

said she——'tis well, thinks I, they have stuck there
—for could they have gone deeper, they would have
made such confusion in a French woman's noddle—
She had better have gone with it unfrizled, to the day
of eternity.

Tene%—said she—so without any idea of the nature
of my suffering, she took them from her curls, and put

them gravely one by one into my hat-one was

twisted this way-another twisted that-ey! by

my faith; and when they are published, quoth I,-

They will be worse twisted still.

A ND now for Lippius's clock! said I, with the air
of a man, who had got thro' all his difficulties

-nothing can prevent us seeing that, and the

Chinese history, &c., except the time, said Francois-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

for 'tis almost eleven—Then we must speed the faster,
said I, striding it away to the cathedral.

I cannot say, in my heart, that it gave me any con-
cern in being told by one of the minor canons, as I
was entering the west door,—That Lippius*s great
clock was all out of joints, and had not gone for some

years-It will give me the more time, thought I, to

peruse the Chinese history; and besides I shall be able
to give the world a better account of the clock in its
decay, than I could have done in its flourishing con-
dition——

-And so away I posted to the college of the

Jesuits.

Now it is with the project of getting a peep at the
history of China in Chinese characters—as with many
others I could mention, which strike the fancy only at
a distance; for as I came nearer and nearer to the
point—my blood cool'd—the freak gradually went off,
till at length I would not have given a cherrystone to

have it gratified—-The truth was, my time was

short, and my heart was at the Tomb of the Lovers

-1 wish to God, said I, as I got the rapper in my

hand, that the key of the library may be but lost; it
fell out as well-

For all the Jesuits had got the cholic—and to that
degree, as never was known in the memory of the
oldest practitioner.

AS I knew the geography of the Tomb of the
j^\ Lovers, as well as if I had lived twenty years
in Lyons, namely, that it was upon the turning
of my right hand, just without the gate, leading to the
Fauxbourg de Vaise-1 dispatched Francois to the104	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

boat, that I might pay the homage I so long ow'd it,
without a witness of my weakness—>1 walk'd with all

imaginable joy towards the place-^-when I saw the

gate which intercepted the tomb, my heart glowed

within me-

--Tender and faithful spirits! cried I, addressing

myself to Amandus and Amanda—long—long have I

tarried to drop this tear upon your tomb-—I come

-1 come-

When I came—there was no tomb to drop it upon.
What would I have given for my uncle Toby, to
have whistled Lillo bullero!

NO matter how, or in what mood—but I flew from
the tomb of the lovers—or rather I did not fly
from it—(for there was no such thing existing)
and just got time enough to the boat to save my
passage;—and ere I had sailed a hundred yards, the
Rhone and the Saon met together, and carried me
down merrily betwixt them.

But I have described this voyage down the Rhone,

before I made it-

-So now I am at Avignon, and as there is nothing

to see but the old house, in which the duke of Ormond
resided, and nothing to stop me but a short remark
upon the place, in three minutes you will see me cross-
ing the bridge upon a mule, with Francois upon a horse
with my portmanteau behind him, and the owner of
both, striding the way before us, with a long gun upon
his shoulder, and a sword under his arm, lest perad-
venture we should run away with his cattle. Had you
seen my breeches in entering Avignon,-ThoughOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

you'd have seen them better, I think, as I mounted—
you would not have thought the precaution amiss, or
found in your heart to have taken it in dudgeon; for
my own part, I took it most kindly; and determined
to make him a present of them, when we got to the
end of our journey, for the trouble they had put him
to, of arming himself at all points against them.

Before I go further, let me get rid of my remark
upon Avignon, which is this: That I think it wrong,
merely because a man's hat has been blown off his
head by chance the first night he comes to Avignon,

-that he should therefore say, " Avignon is more

subject to high winds than any town in all France:"
for which reason I laid no stress upon the accident till
I had enquired of the master of the inn about it, who
telling me seriously it was so-and hearing, more-
over, the windiness of Avignon spoke of ip the country

about as a proverb--I set it down, merely to ask

the learned what can be the cause-the consequence

I saw—for they are all Dukes, Marquisses, and Counts,

there-the duce a Baron, in all Avignon-so that

there is scarce any talking to them on a windy day.

Prithee, friend, said I, take hold of my mule for a
moment-for I wanted to pull off one of my jack-
boots, which hurt my heel—-the man was standing
quite idle at the door of the inn, and as I had taken it
into my head, he was someway concerned about the
house or stable, I put the bridle into his hand—so
begun with the 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--106	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter jrltj*

1HAD now the whole south of France, from the
banks of the Rhone to those of the Garonne, to
traverse upon my mule at my own leisure—at my

own leisure-for I had left Death, the Lord knows

-and He only—how far behind me-"I have

followed many a man thro' France, quoth he—but
never at this mettlesome rate."——Still he followed,

-and still I fled him-but I fled him chearfully

--still he pursued-but, like one who pursued

his prey without hope-as he lagg'd, every step he

lost, soften'd his looks--why should I fly him at

this rate ?

So notwithstanding all the commissary of the post-
office had sajd, I changed the mode of my travelling
once more; and, after so precipitate and rattling a
course as I had run, I flattered my fancy with thinking
of my mule, and that I should traverse the rich plains of
Languedoc upon his back, as slowly as foot could fall.

There is nothing more pleasing to a traveller--or

more terrible to travel-writers, than a large rich plain;
especially if it is without great rivers or bridges; and
presents nothing to the eye, but one unvaried picture
of plenty: for after they have once told you, that 'tis
delicious ! or delightful! (as the case happens)—that
the soil was grateful, and that nature pours out all her
abundance, &c. . . . they have then a large plain upon
their hands, which they know not what to do with—
and which is of little or no use to them but to carry
them to some town; and that town, perhaps of little
more, but a new place to start from to the next plain
-and so on.

—This is most terrible work; judge if I don't
manage my plains better.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

I HAD not gone above two leagues and a half,
before the man with his gun began to look at
his priming.

I had three several times loiter'd terribly behind;
half a mile at least every time; once, in deep con-
ference with a drum-maker, who was making drums
for the fairs of Baucaira and Tarascone—I did not
understand the principles-

The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd

-for meeting a couple of Franciscans straitened more

for time than myself, and not being able to get to the

bottom of what I was about-1 had turn'd back with

them-

The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a
hand-basket of Provence figs for four sous; this would
have been transacted at once; but for a case of con-
science at the close of it; for when the figs were paid
for, it turn'd out, that there were two dozen of eggs
cover'd over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the
basket—as I had no intention of buying eggs—I made
no sort of claim of them—as for the space they had
occupied—what signified it ? I had figs enow for my
money-

—But it was my intention to have the basket—it was
the gossip's intention to keep it, without which, she

could do nothing with her eggs-and unless I had

the basket, I could do as little with my figs, which
were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the
side: this brought on a short contention, which
terminated in sundry proposals, what we should both
do-

-How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy

you, or the Devil himself, had he not been there108	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

(which I am persuaded he was), to form the least
probable conjecture: You will read the whole of it

-not this year, for I am hastening to the story

of my uncle Toby's amours—but you will read it in the
collection of those which have arose out of the journey
across this plain—and which, therefore, I call my

PLAIN STORIES.

How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of
other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a
track—the world must judge—but the traces of it,
which are now all set o' vibrating together this moment,
tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my
life; for as I had made no convention with my man
with the gun, as to time—by stopping and talking to
every soul I met, who was not in a full trot—joining
all parties before me—waiting for every soul behind—
hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads
—arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars

-not passing by a woman in a mulberry-tree witbn

out commending her legs, and tempting her into

conversation with a pinch of snuff-In short, by

seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever,
which chance held out to me in this journey—I turned
my plain into a city—I was always in company, and
with great variety too; and as my mule loved society
as much as myself, and had some proposals always on
his part to offer to every beast he met—I am confident
we could have passed through Pall-Mall, or St James's-
Street for a month together, with fewer adventures—
and seen less of human nature.

O ! there is that sprightly frankness, which at once
unpins every plait of a Languedocian s dress—that what-
ever is beneath it, it looks so like the simplicity whichOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

poets sing of in better days—I will delude my fancy,
and believe it is so.

'Twas in the road betwixt Nismes and Lunel\ where
there is the best Muscatto wine in all France, and
which by the bye belongs to the honest canons of
Montpellier—and foul befal the man who has drank
it at their table, who grudges them a drop of it.

-The sun was set—they had done their work;

the nymphs had tied up their hair afresh—and the

swains were preparing for a carousal-my mule made

a dead point-'Tis the life and tabourin, said I-

I'm frighten'd to death, quoth he-They are running

at the ring of pleasure, said I, giving him a prick-

By saint Boogar, and all the saints at the backside of
the door of purgatory, said he—(making the same
resolution with the abbesse of Andouillets) I'll not go

a step further-'Tis very well, sir, said I-1

never will argue a point with one of your family, as
long as I live 5 so leaping off his back, and kicking off
one boot into this ditch, and t'other into that—I'll take
a dance, said I—so stay you here.

A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the
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 if to offer them—And a cavalier ye shall
have ; said I, taking hold of both of them.

Hadst thou, Nannette, been array'd like a dutchesse!

-But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!

Nannette cared not for it.

We could not have done without you, said she, letting
go one hand, with self-taught politeness, leading me up
with the other.

A lame youth, whom Apollo had recompensed with
a pipe, and to which he had added a tabourin of hisIIO LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

own accord, ran sweetly over the prelude, as he sat upon

the bank-Tie me up this tress instantly, said

Nannette, putting a piece of string into my hand—It

taught me to forget I was a stranger-The whole

knot fell down-We had been seven years acquainted.

The youth struck the note upon the tabourin—his

pipe followed, and off we bounded-" the duce take

that slit! "

The sister of the youth, who had stolen her voice

from heaven, sung alternately with her brother-

'twas a Gascoigne roundelay.

VIVA LA JOIA !

FIDON LA TRISTESSA!

The nymphs join'd in unison, and their swains an

octave below them-

I would have given a crown to have it sew'd up—
Nannette would not have given a sous—Viva la joia I
was in her lips—Viva la joia ! was in her eyes. A
transient spark of amity shot across the space betwixt

us-She look'd amiable!-Why could I not live,

and end my days thus ? Just Disposer of our joys and
sorrows, cried I, why could not a man sit down in the

lap of content here-and dance, and sing, and say his

prayers, and go to heaven with this nut-brown maid ?
Capriciously did she bend her head on one side, and

dance up insidious--Then 'tis time to dance off, quoth

I; so changing only partners and tunes, I danced it

away from Lunel to Montpellier-from thence to

Pesgnas, Beziers-1 danced it along through Nar-

bonne, Careas son, and Castle Naudairy, till at last I
danced myself into PerdrilWs pavillion, where pulling
out a paper of black lines, that I might go on straight
forwards, without digression or parenthesis, in my uncle

Toby's amours-

I begun thus-BOOK VIII.

Chapter u

BUT softly-for in these sportive plains,

and under this genial sun, where at this
instant all flesh is running out piping,
fiddling, and dancing to the vintage, and every step
that's taken, the judgment is surprised by the imagi-
nation, I defy, notwithstanding all that has been said
upon straight lines * in sundry pages of my book—I
defy the best cabbage planter that ever existed, whether
he plants backwards or forwards, it makes little differ-
ence in the account (except that he will have more to
answer for in the one case than in the other)—I defy
him to go on coolly, critically, and canonically, planting
his cabbages one by one, in straight lines, and stoical
distances, especially if slits in petticoats are unsew'd up
—without ever and anon straddling out, or sidling into

some bastardly digression-In Freeze-land\ Fog-land,

and some other lands I wot of—it may be done-

But in this clear climate of fantasy and perspiration,
where every idea, sensible and insensible, gets vent—in
this land, my dear Eugenius—in this fertile land of
chivalry and romance, where I now sit, unskrewing my
ink-horn to write my uncle Toby's amours, and with all

* Vid. pp. 44-46.

in112

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

the meanders of Julia's track in quest of her Diego, in
full view of my study window—if thou comest not and

takest me by the hand-

What a work it is likely to turn out 1
Let us begin it.

—W$3—

C&apter ti*

IT is with love as with cuckoldom-

But now I am talking of beginning a book,
and have long had a thing upon my mind to be
imparted to the reader, which, if not imparted now,
can never be imparted to him as long as I live (whereas
the comparison may be imparted to him any hour in the

day)-I'll just mention it, and begin in good earnest.

The thing is this.

That of all the several ways of beginning a book
which are now in practice throughout the known world,

I am confident my own way of doing it is the best-

I'm sure it is the most religious-for I begin with

writing the first sentence-and trusting to Almighty

God for the second.

'Twould cure an author for ever of the fuss and folly
of opening his street-door, and calling in his neighbours
and friends, and kinsfolk, with the devil and all his
imps, with their hammers and engines, &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

up-catching the idea, even sometimes before it

half way reaches me-

I believe in my conscience I intercept many a thought
which heaven intended for another man.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

Pope and his Portrait* are fools to me-no

martyr is ever so full of faith or fire-1 wish I

could say of good works too-but I have no

Zeal or Anger-or

Anger or Zeal-

And till gods and men agree together to call it by the

same name-the errantest Tartuffe, in science—

in politics—or in religion, shall never kindle a spark
within me, or have a worse word, or a more unkind
greeting, than what he will read in the next chapter.

CD&apttx iiu

-Bon jour !-good morrow!-so you have

got your cloak on betimes!-but 'tis a cold morning,

and you judge the matter rightly-'tis better to be

well mounted, than go o' foot-and obstructions in

the glands are dangerous-And how goes it with thy

concubine—thy wife,—and thy little ones o' both sides ?
and when did you hear from the old gentleman and

lady—your sister, aunt, uncle, and cousins-1 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 blood—give such a vile purge—puke—poultice—

plaister — night-draught — clyster—blister ?-And

why so many grains of calomel ? santa Maria! and
such a dose of opium ! periclitating, pardi! the whole

family of ye, from head to tail-By my great-aunt

Dinah's old black velvet mask! I think there was no
occasion for it.

Now this being a little bald about the chin, by

* Vid. Pope's Portrait.

iii.	hii4

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

frequently putting off and on, before she was got with
child by the coachman—not one of our family would
wear it after. To cover the mask afresh, was more

than the mask was worth-and to wear a mask

which was bald, or which could be half seen through,

was as bad as having no mask at all-

This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that in
all our numerous family, for these four generations, we
count no more than one archbishop, a Welch judge, some

three or four aldermen, and a single mountebank-

In the sixteenth century, we boast of no less than a
dozen alchymists.

C&apt** tto*

" IT is with Love as with Cuckoldom"-the

[ suffering party is at least the third, but generally
the last in the house who knows any thing about
the matter: this comes, as all the world knows, from
having half a dozen words for one thing; and so long,
as what in this vessel of the human frame, is Love—

may be Hatred, in that-Sentiment half a yard

higher-and Nonsense-no, Madam,—

not there-1 mean at the part I am now pointing to

with my forefinger-how can we help ourselves ?

Of all mortal, and immortal men too, if you please,
who ever soliloquized upon this mystic subject, my
uncle Toby was the worst fitted, to have push'd his
researches, thro' such a contention of feelings ; and he
had infallibly let them all run on, as we do worse

matters, to see what they would turn out-had not

Bridget's pre-notification of them to Susannah, and
Susannah's repeated manifestoes thereupon to all the
world, made it necessary for my uncle Toby to look
into the affair.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

"S

Chapter to*

WHY weavers, gardeners, and gladiators—or a
man with a pined leg (proceeding from some
ailment in the foot)—should ever have had
some tender nymph breaking her heart in secret for
them, are points well and duly settled and accounted
for, by ancient and modern physiologists.

A water-drinker, provided he is a profess'd one,
and does it without fraud or covin, is precisely in the
same predicament: not that, at first sight, there is any
consequence, or show of logic in it, " That a rill of
cold water dribbling through my inward parts, should
light up a torch in my Jenny9s—"

-The proposition does not strike one; on the

contrary, it seems to run opposite to the natural work-
ings of causes and effects-

But it shews the weakness and imbecility of human
reason.

-" And in perfect good health with it ?"

—The most perfect,—Madam, that friendship her-
self could wish me-

" And drink nothing!—nothing but water ?"
—Impetuous fluid! the moment thou pressest

against the flood-gates of the brain-see 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
following the stream, turns straws and bulrushes into

masts and bowsprits-And Desire, with vest held

up to the knee in one hand, snatches at them, as they

swim by her with the other-

O ye water-drinkers ! is it then by this delusive
fountain, that ye have so often governed and turn'dII6	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

this world about like a mill-wheel—grinding the faces
of the impotent—bepowdering their ribs—bepeppering
their noses, and changing sometimes even the very

frame and face of nature-

If I was you, quoth Torich, I would drink more
water, Eugenius—And, if I was you, Torich, 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.

Chapter tot.

1WISH my uncle Toby had been a water-drinker;
for then the thing had been accounted for, That
the first moment Widow Wadman saw him, she
felt something stirring within her in his favour—
Something!—something.

—Something perhaps more than friendship—less
than love—something—no matter what—no matter
where—I would not give a single hair off my mule's
tail, and be obliged to pluck it off myself (indeed the
villain has not many to spare, and is not a little vicious
into the bargain), to be let by your worships into the
secret-

But the truth is, my uncle Toby was not a water-
drinker; he drank it neither pure nor mix'd, or any
how, or any where, except fortuitously upon some
advanced posts, where better liquor was not to be had

•-or during the time he was under cure ; when the

surgeon telling him it would extend the fibres, and

bring them sooner into contact-my uncle Toby

drank it for quietness sake.

Now as all the world knows, that no effect in natureOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

117

can be produced without a cause, and as it is as well
known, that my uncle Toby was neither a weaver—a

gardener, or a gladiator-unless as a captain, you

will needs have him one—but then he was only a
captain of foot—and besides, the whole is an equi-
vocation-There is nothing left for us to suppose,

but that my uncle Toby's leg-but that will avail us

little in the present hypothesis, unless it had proceeded
from some ailment in the foot—whereas his leg was not
emaciated from any disorder in his foot—for my uncle
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 father's house in
town; but it was plump and muscular, and in all other
respects as good and promising a leg as the other.

I declare, I do not recollect any one opinion or
passage of my life, where my understanding was more
at a loss to make ends meet, and torture the chapter I
had been writing, to the service of the chapter follow-
ing it, than in the present case: one would think I
took a pleasure in running into difficulties of this kind,
merely to make fresh experiments of getting out of 'em

-Inconsiderate soul that thou art! What! are not

the unavoidable distresses with which, as an author and

a man, thou art hemm'd in on every side of thee-

are they, Tristram, not sufficient, but thou must en-
tangle 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*
still—still unsold, and art almost at thy wit's ends,
how to get them off thy hands ?

To this hour art thou not tormented with the vile
asthma that thou gattest in skating against the wind in
Flanders P and is it but two months ago, that in a fit
of laughter, on seeing a cardinal make water like a
* Alluding to the first edition.Il8	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

quirister (with both hands) thou brakest a vessel in
thy lungs, whereby, in two hours, thou lost as many
quarts of blood; and hadst thou lost as much more,

did not the faculty tell thee-it would have

amounted to a gallon ?-

CD&apter Mf*

-But for heaven's sake, let us not talk of quarts

or gallons-let us take the story straight before us;

it is so nice and intricate a one, it will scarce bear the
transposition of a single tittle; and, somehow or other,
you have got me thrust almost into the middle of it—
—I beg we may take more care.

<!D|) apter totti.

MY uncle Toby and the corporal had posted down
with so much heat and precipitation, to take
possession of the spot of ground we have so
often spoke of, in order to open their campaign as
early as the rest of the allies; that they had forgot one
of the most necessary articles of the whole affair; it
was neither a pioneer's spade, a pickax, or a shovel—

—It was a bed to lie on: so that as Shandy-Hall
was at that time unfurnished; and the little inn where
poor Le Fever died, not yet built; my uncle Toby was
constrained to accept of a bed at Mrs Wadman s, for a
night or two, till corporal Trim (who to the character
of an excellent valet, groom, cook, sempster, surgeon,
and engineer, superadded that of an excellent uphol-
sterer too), with the help of a carpenter and a couple
of taylors, constructed one in my uncle Toby's house.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

ii9

A daughter of E<ve, for such was widow fVadmany
and 'tis all the character I intend to give of her—

—" That she was a perfect woman—" had better
be fifty leagues off—or in her warm bed—or playing
with a case-knife—or any thing you please—than make
a man the object of her attention, when the house and
all the furniture is her own.

There is nothing in it out of doors and in broad
day-light, where a woman has a power, physically
speaking, of viewing a man in more lights than one—*•
but here, for her soul, she can see him in no light with-
out mixing something of her own goods and chattels
along with him-till by reiterated acts of such com-
bination, he gets foisted into her inventory—-

—And then good night.

But this is not matter of System ; for I have de-
livered that above-nor is it matter of Breviary

-for I make no man's creed but my own-nor

matter of Fact-at least that I know of; but 'tis

matter copulative and introductory to what follows.

(ID&apter tj%

I DO not speak it with regard to the coarseness or
cleanness of them—or the strength of their gussets

-but pray do not night-shifts differ from day-

shifts as much in this particular, as in any thing else in
the world ; That they so far exceed the others in length,
that when you are laid down in them, they fall almost
as much below the feet, as the day-shifts fall short of
them ?

Widow Wadman's night-shifts (as was the mode I
suppose in King William s and Queen Anne's reigns)
were cut however after this fashion ; and if the fashion120

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 gained after another,
in the many bleak and decemberly nights of a seven years
widowhood, things had insensibly come to this pass,
and for the two last years had got establish'd into one
of the ordinances of the bed-chamber—That as soon
as Mrs Wadman was put to bed, and had got her legs
stretched down to the bottom of it, of which she always
gave Bridget notice—Bridget, with all suitable decorum,
having first open'd the bed-cloaths at the feet, took hold
of the half-ell of cloth we are speaking of, and having
gently, and with both her hands, drawn it downwards
to its furthest extension, and then contracted it again
side-long by four or five even plaits, she took a large
corking pin out of her sleeve, and with the point
directed towards her, pinn'd the plaits all fast together
a little above the hem; which done, she tuck'd all in
tight at the feet, and wish'd her mistress a good night.

This was constant, and without any other variation
than this; that on shivering and tempestuous nights,
when Bridget untuck'd the feet of the bed, &c., to do

this-she consulted no thermometer but that of her

own passions ; and so performed it standing—kneeling
—or squatting, according to the different degrees of
faith, hope, and charity, she was in, and bore towards
her mistress that night. In every other respect, the
etiquette was sacred, and might have vied with the most
mechanical one of the most inflexible bed-chamber in
Christendom.

The first night, as soon as the corporal had con-
ducted my uncle Toby up stairs, which was about ten
--Mrs Wadman threw herself into her arm-chair,OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

121

and crossing her left knee with her right, which
formed a resting-place for her elbow, she reclin'd her
cheek upon the palm of her hand, and leaning forwards,
ruminated till midnight upon both sides of the question.

The second night she went to her bureau, and having
ordered Bridget to bring her up a couple of fresh
candles and leave them upon the table, she took out
her marriage-settlement, and read it over with great
devotion: and the third night (which was the last of
my uncle Toby's stay) when Bridget had pull'd down
the 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 kick'd

in her situation-for supposing ******

* * * to be the sun in its meridian, it was a north-east

kick-she kick'd the pin out of her fingers-the

etiquette which hung upon it, down down it fell to
the ground, and was shiver'd into a thousand atoms.

From all which it was plain that widow Wadman
was in love with my uncle Toby.

Cfcapter

MY uncle Toby's head at that time was full of
other matters, so that it was not till the
demolition of Dunkirk, when all the other
civilities of Europe were settled, that he found leisure
to return this.

This made an armistice (that is, speaking with regard
to my uncle Toby—but with respect to Mrs Wadman9
a vacancy)—of almost eleven years. But in all cases
of this nature, as it is the second blow, happen at what
distance of time it will, which makes the fray-1122

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 cock'd-and a

cock'd old hat, about which your reverences have so

often been at odds with one another-but there is a

difference here in the nature of things-

And let me tell you, gentry, a wide one too.

CJapter pi.

NOW as widow Wadman did love my uncle Toby

-and my uncle Toby did not love widow

Wadman, there was nothing for widow Wadman

to do, but to go on and love my uncle Toby--or let

it alone.

Widow Wadman would do neither the one or the
other.

-Gracious heaven!-but I forget I am a little

of her temper myself; for whenever it so falls out,
which it sometimes does about the equinoxes, that an
earthly goddess is so much this, and that, and t'other,

that I cannot eat my breakfast for her-and that she

careth not three halfpence whether I eat my breakfast
or no-

-Curse on her ! and so I send her to Tartary, and

from Tartary to Terra del Fuogo, and so on to the
devil: in short, there is not an infernal nitch where I
do not take her divinityship and stick it.

But as the heart is tender, and the passions in these
tides ebb and flow ten times in a minute, I instantly bring
her back again; and as I do all things in extremes, I
place her in the very centre of the milky-way——OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

I23

Brightest of stars! thou wilt shed thy influence upon

some one-

-The duce take her and her influence too-

for at that word I lose all patience-much good may

it do him!-By all that is hirsute and gashly! I

cry, taking off my furr'd cap, and twisting it round my

finger-1 would not give sixpence for a dozen

such!

-But 'tis an excellent cap too (putting it upon

my head, and pressing it close to my ears)—and warm
—and soft; especially if you stroke it the right way—

but alas! that will never be my luck-(so here my

philosophy is ship wreck'd again).

-No 5 I shall never have a finger in the pye (so

here I break my metaphor)-

Crust and Crumb
Inside and out

Top and bottom-1 detest it, I hate it, I re-
pudiate it-I'm sick at the sight of it-—r-

'Tis all pepper,

garlick,

staragen,

salt, and

devil's dung-by the great arch-cook of

cooks, who does nothing, I think, from morning to
night, but sit down by the fire-side and invent inflam-
matory dishes for us, I would not touch it for the

world-

-0 Tristram ! Tristram / cried Jenny.

0 Jenny ! Jenny / replied I, and so went on with
the twelfth chapter.124

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter jzii♦

-" Not touch it for the world," did I say-

Lord, how I have heated my imagination with this
metaphor!

C&apter pttj*

WHICH shews, let your reverences and wor-
ships say what you will of it (for as for

thinking-all who do think—think pretty

much alike both upon it and other matters)-Love

is certainly, at least alphabetically speaking, one of the
most

A gitating
B ewitching
C onfounded

D evilish affairs of life-the most

E xtravagant
F utilitous
G alligaskinish
H andy-dandyish

I racundulous (there is no K to it) and
L yrical of all human passions: at the same time,

the most
M isgiving
N innyhammering
O bstipating
P ragmatical
S tridulous

R idiculous—though by the bye the R should have
gone first—But in short 'tis of such a nature, as my
father once told my uncle Toby upon the close of aOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.	125

long dissertation upon the subject-" You can scarce,"

said he, " combine two ideas together upon it, brother

Toby, without an hypallage "-What's that ? cried

my uncle Toby.

The cart before the horse, replied my father-

-And what is he to do there ? cried my uncle

Toby-

Nothing, quoth my father, but to get in—:—or let it
alone.

Now widow Wadman, as I told you before, would
do neither the one or the other.

She stood however ready harnessed and caparisoned
at all points, to watch accidents.

Chapter jrfto.

THE Fates, who certainly all foreknew of these
amours of widow Wadman and my uncle
Toby, had, from the first creation of matter and
motion (and with more courtesy than they usually do
things of this kind), established such a chain of causes
and effects hanging so fast to one another, that it was
scarce possible for my uncle Toby to have dwelt in
any other house in the world, or to have occupied
any other garden in Christendom, but the very house
and garden which join'd and laid parallel to Mrs
Wadman's; this, with the advantage of a thickset
arbour in Mrs Wadman*s garden, but planted in the
hedge-row of my uncle Toby's, put all the occasions
into her hands which Love-militancy wanted; she
could observe my uncle Toby's motions, and was
mistress likewise of bis councils of war; and as his126

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

unsuspecting heart had given leave to the corporal,
through the mediation of Bridget, to make her a
wicker-gate of communication to enlarge her walks, it
enabled her to carry on her approaches to the very-
door of the sentry-box; and sometimes out of grati-
tude, to make an attack, and endeavour to blow my

uncle Toby up in the very sentry-box itself.

■ -

C&apter

IT is a great pity-but 'tis certain from every

day's observation of man, that he may be set on
fire like a candle, at either end—provided there is
a sufficient wick standing out; if there is not—there's
an end of the affair ; and if there is—by lighting it at
the bottom, as the flame in that case has the misfortune
generally to put out itself—there's an end of the affair
again.

For my part, could I always have the ordering of it
which way I would be burnt myself—for I cannot
bear the thoughts of being burnt like a beast—I would
oblige a housewife constantly to light me at the top; for
then I should burn down decently to the socket; that
is, from my head to my heart, from my heart to my
liver, from my liver to my bowels, and so on by the
meseraick veins and arteries, through all the turns and
lateral insertions of the intestines and their tunicles to

the blind gut-

-1 beseech you, doctor Slop, quoth my uncle

Toby, interrupting him as he mentioned the blind gut,
in a discourse with my father the night my mother was

brought to bed of me-1 beseech you, quoth my

uncle Toby, to tell me which is the blind gut; for, oldOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

127

as I am, I vow I do not know to this day where it
lies.

The blind gut, answered doctor Slop, lies betwixt
the I lion and Colon-

In a man ? said my father.

-'Tis precisely the same, cried doctor Slop, in a

woman.-

That's more than I know; quoth my father.

Chapter ptou

-And so to make sure of both systems, Mrs

IVadman predetermined to light my uncle Toby neither
at this end or that; but, like a prodigal's candle, to
light him, if possible, at both ends at once.

Now, through all the lumber rooms of military
furniture, including both of horse and foot, from the
great arsenal of Venice to the Tower of London
(exclusive), if Mrs Wadman had been rummaging for
seven years together, and with Bridget to help her, she
could not have found any one blind or mantelet so fit for
her purpose, as that which the expediency of my uncle
Toby's affairs had fix'd up ready to her hands.

I believe I have not told you-but I don't know

--possibly I have-be it as it will, 'tis one of the

number of those many things, which a man had better
do over again, than dispute about it—That whatever
town or fortress the corporal was at work upon, during
the course of their campaign, my uncle Toby always
took care, on the inside of his sentry-box, which was
towards his left hand, to have a plan of the place,
fasten'd up with two or three pins at the top, but loose
at the bottom, for the conveniency of holding it up to
the eye, &c. ... as occasions required; so that when128

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 out-stretched neck meeting it half way,—to
advance it towards her; on which my uncle Toby9s

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

Wadman9s next stroke of generalship-which was,

to take my uncle Toby9s tobacco-pipe out of his hand
as soon as she possibly could; which, under one pre-
tence or other, but generally that of pointing more
distinctly at some redoubt or breastwork in the map,
she would effect before my uncle Toby (poor soul!)
had well march'd above half a dozen toises with it.

—It obliged my uncle Toby to make use of his
forefinger.

The difference it made in the attack was this; That
in going upon it, as in the first case, with the end of
her forefinger against the end of my uncle Toby9s
tobacco-pipe, she might have travelled with it, along
the lines, from Dan to Beersheba> had my uncle Toby9s
lines reach'd so far, without any effect: For as there
was no arterial or vital heat in the end of the tobacco-

pipe, it could excite no sentiment-it could neither

give fire by pulsation-or receive it by sympathy-

'twas nothing but smoke.

Whereas, in following my uncle Toby's forefinger
with hers, close thro' all the little turns and indent-

ings of his works-pressing sometimes against the

side of it-then treading upon its nail-thenOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

129

tripping it up-then touching it here-then there,

and so on-it set something at least in motion.

This, tho* slight skirmishing, and at a distance from
the main body, yet drew on the rest; for here, the
map usually falling with the back of it, close to the side
of the sentry-box, my uncle Toby, in the simplicity of
his soul, would lay his hand flat upon it, in order to
go on with his explanation; and Mrs Wadman, by a
manoeuvre as quick as thought, would as certainly place
her's close beside it; this at once opened a communica-
tion, large enough for any sentiment to pass or repass,
which a person skill'd in the elementary and practical
part of love-making, has occasion for-

By bringing up her forefinger parallel (as before) to

my uncle Toby*s-it unavoidably brought the thumb

into action-and the forefinger and thumb being

once engaged, as naturally brought in the whole hand.
Thine, dear uncle Toby / was never now in its right

place-Mrs Wadman had it ever to take up, or, with

the gentlest pushings, protrusions, and equivocal com-
pressions, that a hand to be removed is capable of

receiving-to get it press'd a hair breadth of one

side out of her way.

Whilst this was doing, how could she forget to
make him sensible, that it was her leg (and no one's
else) at the bottom of the sentry-box, which slightly

press'd against the calf of his-So that my uncle

Toby being thus attacked and sore push'd on both his

wings-was it a wonder, if now and then, it put his

centre into disorder ?-

-The duce take it! said my uncle Toby.

in.

1130	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter pijif.

THESE attacks of Mrs Wadman, you will readily
conceive to be of different kinds ; varying from
each other, like the attacks which history is full
of, and from the same reasons. A general looker-on

would scarce allow them to be attacks at all-or if

he did, would confound them all together-but I

write not to them : it will be time enough to be a little
more exact in my descriptions of them, as I come up
to them, which will not be for some chapters; having
nothing more to add in this, but that in a bundle of
original papers and drawings which my father took
care to roll up by themselves, there is a plan of Bouchain
in perfect preservation (and shall be kept so, whilst
I have power to preserve any thing), upon the lower
corner of which, on the right hand side, there is still
remaining the marks of a snuffy finger and thumb,
which there is all the reason in the world to imagine,
were Mrs Wadmari s,• for the opposite side of the
margin, which I suppose to have been my uncle Toby's,
is absolutely clean : This seems an authenticated record
of one of these attacks; for there are vestigia of the
two punctures partly grown up, but still visible on the
opposite corner of the map, which are unquestionably
the very holes, through which it has been pricked up

in the sentry-box-

By all that is priestly! I value this precious relick,
with its stigmata and pricks, more than all the relicks of

the Romish church-always excepting, when I am

writing upon these matters, the pricks which entered
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.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

Chapter jrtilO#

I THINK, an' please your honour, quoth Trim, the

fortifications are quite destroyed-and the bason

is upon a level with the mole-1 think so too ;

replied my uncle Toby with a sigh half suppress'd-

but step into the parlour, Trim, for the stipulation-

it lies upon the table.

It has lain there these six weeks, replied the corporal,
till this very morning that the old woman kindled the
fire with it—

-Then, said my uncle, Toby, there is no further

occasion for our services. The more, an' please your
honour, the pity, said the corporal; in uttering which
he cast his spade into the wheel-barrow, which was
beside him, with an air the most expressive of discon-
solation that can be imagined, and was heavily turning
about to look for his pickax, his pioneer's shovel, his
picquets, and other little military stores, in order to

carry them off the field-when a heigh-ho! from

the sentry-box, which being made of thin slit deal,
reverberated the sound more sorrowfully to his ear,
forbad him.

-No ; said the corporal to himself, I'll do it

before his honour rises to-morrow morning; so taking
his spade out of the wheel-barrow again, with a little
earth in it, as if to level something at the foot of the

glacis-but with a real intent to approach nearer to

his master, in order to divert him-he loosen'd a

sod or two-pared their edges with his spade, and

having given them a gentle blow or two with the back
of it, he sat himself down close by my uncle Toby's
feet, and began as follows.i32

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter

IT was a thousand pities-though I believe, an'

please your honour, I am going to say but a

foolish kind of a thing for a soldier-

A soldier, cried my uncle Toby, interrupting the
corporal, is no more exempt from saying a foolish
thing, Trim, than a man of letters—■—But not so often,

an' please your honour, replied the corporal-My

uncle Toby gave a nod.

It was a thousand pities then, said the corporal,
casting his eye upon Dunkirk, and the mole, as Servius
Sulptciusy in returning out of Asia (when he sailed
from JEgina towards Megara), did upon Corinth and
Pyreus-

—" It was a thousand pities, an' please your honour,

to destroy these works-and a thousand pities to

have let them stood."-

-Thou art right, Trim, in both cases; said my

uncle Toby,-This, continued the corporal, is the

reason, that from the beginning of their demolition to

the end-1 have never once whistled, or sung, or

laugh'd, or cry'd, or talk'd of past done deeds, or told
your honour one story good or bad—:—

-Thou hast many excellencies, Trim, said my

uncle Toby9 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 giave 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 myOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

*33

uncle Toby, on that score: But prithee what is this
story ? thou hast excited my curiosity.

I'll tell it your honour, quoth the corporal, directly
—Provided, said my uncle Toby, looking earnestly

towards Dunkirk and the mole again-provided it is

not a merry one; to such, Trim, a man should ever
bring one half of the entertainment along with him ;
and the disposition I am in at present would wrong

both thee, Trim, and thy story-It is not a merry

one by any means, replied the corporal—Nor would I
have it altogether a grave one, added my uncle Toby

-It is neither the one nor the other, replied the

corporal, but will suit your honour exactly-Then

I'll thank thee for it with all my heart, cried my uncle
Toby ; so prithee begin it, Trim.

The corporal made his reverence; and though it is
not so easy a matter as the world imagines, to pull

off a lank Montero-cap with grace-or a whit less

difficult, in my conceptions, when a man is sitting
squat upon the ground, to make a bow so teeming with
respect as the corporal was wont; yet by suffering the
palm of his right hand, which was towards his master,
to slip backwards upon the grass, a little beyond his

body, in order to allow it the greater sweep-and

by an unforced compression, at the same time, of his
cap with the thumb and the two forefingers of his left, by
which the diameter of the cap became reduced, so that
it might be said, rather to be insensibly squeez'd—

than pull'd off with a flatus-the corporal acquitted

himself of both in a better manner than the posture of
his affairs promised; and having hemmed twice, to
find in what key his story would best go, and best suit
his master's humour,—he exchanged a single look of
kindness with him, and set off thus.*3 4

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS
SEVEN CASTLES.

THERE was a certain king of Bo - - he-

As the corporal was entering the confines of
Bohemia, my uncle Toby obliged him to halt
for a single moment; he had set out bare-headed,
having, since he pull'd off his Montero-cap in the
latter end of the last chapter, left it lying beside him
on the ground.

-The eye of Goodness espieth all things-so

that before the corporal had well got through the first
five words of his story, had my uncle Toby twice
touch'd his Montero-caip with the end of his cane,

interrogatively-as much as to say, Why don't you

put it on, Trim P 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 tarnish'd and fray'd moreover in
some of the principal leaves and boldest parts of the
pattern, he lay'd it down again between his two feet,
in order to moralize upon the subject.

-'Tis every word of it but too true, cried my

uncle Toby, that thou art about to observe-

" Nothing in this worlds Trimy is made to last for
ever"

-But when tokens, dear Tom9 of thy love and

remembrance wear out, said Trim, what shall we say ?

There is no occasion, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby,
to say any thing else; and was a man to puzzle his
brains till Doom's day, I believe, Trim, it would be
impossible.

The corporal, perceiving my uncle Toby was in the
right, and that it would be in vain for the wit of man
to think of extracting a purer moral from his cap,OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

I35

without further attempting it, he put it on; and pass-
ing his hand across his forehead to rub out a pensive
wrinkle, which the text and the doctrine between them
had engender'd, he return'd, with the same look and
tone of voice, to his story of the king of Bohemia and
his seven castles.

THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS
SEVEN CASTLES, CONTINUED.

THERE was a certain king of Bohemia, but in
whose reign, except his own, I am not able to

inform your honour-

I do not desire it of thee, Trim, by any means,
cried my uncle Toby.

-It was a little before the time, an' please your

honour, when giants were beginning to leave off breed-
ing :—but in what year of our Lord that was-

I would not give a halfpenny to know, said my
uncle Toby,

-Only, an' please your honour, it makes a story

look the better in the face-

-'Tis thy own, Trim, so ornament it after thy

own fashion; and take any date, continued my uncle
Toby, looking pleasantly upon him—take any date in
the whole world thou chusest, and put it to—thou art

heartily welcome-

The corporal bowed; for of every century, and of
every year of that century, from the first creation of the
world down to Noah's flood; and from Noah's flood to
the birth of Abraham ; through all the pilgrimages of
the patriarchs, to the departure of the Israelites out of

Egypt-and throughout all the Dynasties, Olympiads,

Urbeconditas, and other memorable epochas of the
different nations of the world, down to the coming of136

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Christ, and from thence to the very moment in which

the corporal was telling his story-had my uncle

Toby subjected this vast empire of time and all its
abysses at his feet; but as MODesTY scarce touches with
a finger what liberality offers her with both hands
open—the corporal contented himself with the very
worst year of the whole bunch; which, to prevent
your honours of the Majority and Minority from
tearing the very flesh off your bones in contestation,
4 Whether that year is not always the last cast-year of

the last cast-almanack'-1 tell you plainly it was ;

but from a different reason than you wot of-

--It was the year next him-which being the

year of our Lord seventeen hundred and twelve, when
the Duke of Ormond was playing the devil in Flanders

-the corporal took it, and set out with it afresh on

his expedition to Bohemia.

THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS
SEVEN CASTLES, CONTINUED.

IN the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred

and twelve, there was, an' please your honour-

-To tell thee truly, Trim, quoth my uncle

Toby, any other date would have pleased me much
better, not only on account of the sad stain upon our
history that year, in marching off our troops, and
refusing to cover the siege of Quesnoi, though Fagel
was carrying on the works with such incredible vigour
—but likewise on the score, Trim, of thy own story;
because if there are—and which, from what thou hast
dropt, I partly suspect to be the fact—if there are giants
in it-

There is but one, an' please your honour-

-'Tis as bad as twenty, replied my uncle TobyOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

137

-thou should'st have carried him back some seven

or eight hundred years out of harm's way, both of
critics and other people: and therefore I would advise

thee, if ever thou tellest it again-

-If I live, an' please your honour, but once to get

through it, I will never tell it again, quoth Trim, either

to man, woman, or child-Poo—poo! said my

uncle Toby—but with accents of such sweet encourage-
ment did he utter it, that the corporal went on with
his story with more alacrity than ever.

THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS
SEVEN CASTLES, CONTINUED.

THERE was, an' please your honour, said the
corporal, raising his voice and rubbing the
palms of his two hands cheerily together as he

begun, a certain king of Bohemia-

. -Leave out the date entirely, Trim, quoth my

uncle Toby, leaning forwards, and laying his hand gently
upon the corporal's shoulder to temper the interruption
—leave it out entirely, Trim ; a story passes very well
without these niceties, unless one is pretty sure of 'em

--Sure of 'em! said the corporal, shaking his

head-

Right; answered my uncle Toby, it is not easy,
Trim, for one, bred up as thou and I have been to
arms, who seldom looks further forward than to the
end of his musket, or backwards beyond his knapsack,

to know much about this matter-God bless your

honour! said the corporal, won by the manner of my
uncle Toby s reasoning, as much as by the reasoning
itself, he has something else to do ; if not on action, or
a march, or upon duty in his garrison—he has his firelock,
an' please your honour, to furbish—his accoutrementsTHE LIFE AND OPINIONS

to take care of—his regimentals to mend—himself to
shave and keep clean, so as to appear always like what he
is upon the parade; what business, added the corporal
triumphantly, has a soldier, an' please your honour, to
know any thing at all of geography P

-Thou would'st have said chronology, Trim, said

my uncle Toby ; for as for geography, 'tis of absolute
use to him ; he must be acquainted intimately with every
country and its boundaries where his profession carries
him; he should know every town and city, and village
and hamlet, with the canals, the roads, and hollow ways
which lead up to them; there is not a river or a rivulet
he passes, Trim, but he should be able at first sight to
tell thee what is its name—in what mountains it takes
its rise—what is its course—how far it is navigable—
where fordable—where not; he should know the fertility
of every valley, as well as the hind who ploughs it; and
be able to describe, or, if it is required, to give thee an
exact map of all the plains and defiles, the forts, the
acclivities, the woods and morasses, thro' and by which
his army is to march; he should know their produce,
their plants, their minerals, their waters, their animals,
their seasons, their climates, their heats and cold, their
inhabitants, their customs, their language, their policy,
and even their religion.

Is it else to be conceived, corporal, continued my
uncle Toby, rising up in his sentry-box, as he began to
warm in this part of his discourse—how Marlborough
could have marched his army from the banks of the
Maes to Belburg ; from Belburg to Kerpenord—(here
the corporal could sit no longer) from Kerpenord, Trim,
to Kalsaken ; from Kalsaken to Neivdorf ; from New-
dorf to Landenbourg ; from JLandenbourg to Mildenheim ;
from Mildenheim to Elchingen; from Elchingen to
Gingen ; from Gingen to B aimerch off en ; from B aimer-
choffcn to Skellenburg, where he broke in upon theOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

139

enemy's works ; forced his passage over the Danube ;
cross'd the Lech—push'd on his troops into the heart
of the empire, marching at the head of them through
Fribourg, Hokenwert, and Schonevelt, to the plains of

Blenheim and Hochstet P-Great as he was, corporal,

he could not have advanced a step, or made one single

day's march without the aids of Geography.-As for

Chronology, I own, Trim, continued my uncle Toby,
sitting down again coolly in his sentry-box, that of all
others, it seems a science which the soldier might best
spare, was it not for the lights which that science must
one day give him, in determining the invention of
powder; the furious execution of which, renversing
every thing like thunder before it, has become a new
sera to us of military improvements, changing so totally
the nature of attacks and defences both by sea and land,
and awakening so much art and skill in doing it, that
the world cannot be too exact in ascertaining the precise
time of its discovery, or too inquisitive in knowing
what great man was the discoverer, and what occasions
gave birth to it.

I am far from controverting, continued my uncle
Toby, what historians agree in, that in the year of our
Lord 1380, under the reign of Wencelaus, son of
Charles the Fourth——a certain priest, whose name
was Schwartz, shew'd the use of powder to the
Venetians, in their wars against the Genoese; but 'tis
certain he was not the first; because if we are to
believe Don Pedro, the bishop of Leon—How came
priests and bishops, an' please your honour, to trouble
their heads so much about gun-powder ? God knows,

said my uncle Toby-his providence brings good out

of every thing—and he avers, in his chronicle of King
Alphonsus, who reduced Toledo, That in the year 1343,
which was full thirty-seven years before that time, the
secret of powder was well known, and employed with140	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

success, both by Moors and Christians, not only in
their sea-combats, at that period, but in many of their
most memorable sieges in Spain and Barbary—And all
the world knows, that Friar Bacon had wrote expressly
about it, and had generously given the world a receipt to
make it by, above a hundred and fifty years before even
Schwartz, was born—And that the Chinese, added my
uncle Tohy, embarrass 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 somehow or other deceived, said my

uncle Toby, in this matter, as is plain to me from the
present miserable state of military architecture amongst
them; which consists of nothing more than a fosse
with a brick wall without flanks—and for what they
gave us as a bastion at each angle of it, 'tis so bar-
barously constructed, that it looks for all the world

-Like one of my seven castles, an'

please your honour, quoth Trim.

My uncle Toby, tho' in the utmost distress for a
comparison, most courteously refused Trim s offer—till
Trim telling him, he had half a dozen more in Bohemia,

which he knew not how to get off his hands-my

uncle Toby was so touch'd with the pleasantry of heart

of the corporal-that he discontinued his dissertation

upon gun-powder-and begged the corporal forth-
with to go on with his story of the King of Bohemia
and his seven castles.

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

141

THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS
SEVEN CASTLES, CONTINUED.

THIS unfortunate King of Bohemia, said Trim,

-Was he unfortunate, then I cried my uncle

Toby, for he had been so wrapt up in his dis-
sertation 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 epithet-Was

he unfortunate, then, Trim P said my uncle Toby,

pathetically-The corporal, wishing first the word

and all its synonimas at the devil, forthwith began to
run back in his mind, the principal events in the King
of Bohemia's story; from every one of which, it ap-
pearing that he was the most fortunate man that ever

existed in the world-it put the corporal to a stand :

for not caring to retract his epithet-and less to ex-
plain it-and least of all, to twist his tale (like men

of lore) to serve a system-he looked up in my uncle

Toby's face for assistance-but seeing it was the very

thing my uncle Toby sat in expectation of himself-

after a hum and a haw, he went on-

The King of Bohemia, an' please your honour,

replied the corporal, was unfortunate, as thus-That

taking great pleasure and delight in navigation and all

sort of sea affairs-and there happening throughout

the whole kingdom of Bohemia, to be no sea-port town

whatever-

How the duce should there—Trim P cried my uncle
Toby ; for Bohemia being totally inland, it could have

happen'd no otherwise-It might, said Trim, if it

had pleased God-

My uncle Toby neyer spoke of the being and natural
attributes of God, but with diffidence and hesitation-142

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

-1 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; Bavaria to the
south; Bohemia could not have been propell'd to the

sea without ceasing to be Bohemia-nor could the

sea, on the other hand, have come up to Bohemia, with-
out overflowing a great part of Germany, and destroying
millions of unfortunate inhabitants who could make no

defence against it-Scandalous ! cried Trim—Which

would bespeak, added my uncle Toby, mildly, such a

want of compassion in him who is the father of it-

that, I think, Trim-the thing could have happen'd

no way.

The corporal made the bow of unfeigned conviction ;
and went on.

Now the King of Bohemia with his queen and
courtiers happening one fine summer's evening to walk

out-Aye ! there the word happening is right, Trim,

cried my uncle Toby ; for the King of Bohemia and his

queen might have walk'd out or let it alone :-'twas

a matter of contingency, which might happen, or not,
just as chance ordered it.

King William was of an opinion, an' please your
honour, quoth Trim, that every thing was predestined
for us in this world; insomuch, that he would often
say to his soldiers, that " every ball had its billet."

He was a great man, said my uncle Toby-And I

believe, continued Trim, to this day, that the shot
which disabled me at the battle of Landen, was pointed
at my knee for no other purpose, but to take me out of
his service, and place me in your honour's, where I
should be taken so much better care of in my old age

-It shall never, Trim, be construed otherwise, said

my uncle Toby.

The heart, both of the master and the man, wereOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

H3

alike subject to sudden overflowings;-a short silence

ensued.

Besides, said the corporal, resuming the discourse—

but in a gayer accent-if it had not been for that

single shot, I had never, an' please your honour, been
in love-

So, thou wast once in love, Trim ! said my uncle
Toby, smiling-

Souse! replied the corporal—over head and ears !
an' please your honour. Prithee when ? where ?—and

how came it to pass ?-1 never heard one word of it

before ; quoth my uncle Toby :-1 dare say, answered

Trim, that every drummer and serjeant's son in the

regiment knew of it-It's high time I should-

said my uncle Toby.

Your honour remembers with concern, said the
corporal, the total rout and confusion of our camp and
army at the affair of Landen ; every one was left to
shift for himself; and if it had not been for the
regiments of Wyndham, Lumley, and Galvuay, which
covered the retreat over the bridge of Neerspeeken, the

king himself could scarce have gained it-he was

press'd hard, as your honour knows, on every side of
him-

Gallant mortal! cried my uncle Toby, caught up
with enthusiasm—this moment, now that all is lost, I
see him galloping across me, corporal, to the left, to
bring up the remains of the English horse along with
him to support the right, and tear the laurel from

Luxembourg's brows, if yet 'tis possible-1 see him

with the knot of his scarfe just shot off, infusing fresh
spirits into poor Galwafs regiment—riding along the
line—then wheeling about, and charging Conti at the

head of it-Brave! brave, by heaven ! cried my

uncle Toby—he deserves a crown-As richly, as a

thief a halter ; shouted Trim.144

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

My uncle Toby knew the corporal's loyalty ;—other-
wise the comparison was not at all to his mind-it

did not altogether strike the corporal's fancy when he

had made it-but it could not be recall'd-so he

had nothing to do, but proceed.

As the number of wounded was prodigious, and
no one had time to think of any thing but his own
safety—Though Talmash, said my uncle Toby, brought

off the foot with great prudence-But I was left

upon the field, said the corporal. Thou wast so ; poor

fellow ! replied my uncle Toby-So that it was noon

the next day, continued the corporal, before I was ex-
changed, and put into a cart with thirteen or fourteen
more, in order to be convey'd to our hospital.

There is no part of the body, an' please your honour,
where a wound occasions more intolerable anguish than

upon the knee-

Except the groin ; said my uncle Toby. An' please
your honour, replied the corporal, the knee, in my
opinion, must certainly be the most acute, there being
so many tendons and what-d'ye-call-'ems all about it.
It is for that reason, quoth my uncle Toby, that the

groin is infinitely more sensible-there being not only

as many tendons and what-d'ye-call-'ems (for I know

their names as little as thou dost)-about it-but

moreover * * #-

Mrs Wadman, who had been all the time in her
arbour—instantly stopp'd her breath—unpinn'd her

mob at the chin, and stood up upon one leg-

The dispute was maintained with amicable and equal
force betwixt my uncle Toby and Trim for some time;
till Trim at length recollecting that he had often cried
at his master's sufferings, but never shed a tear at his
own—was for giving up the point, which my uncle Toby

would not allow-'Tis a proof of nothing, Trim,

said he, but the generosity of thy temper-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

145

So that whether the pain of a wound in the groin
(caeteris paribus) is greater than the pain of a wound in
the knee-or

Whether the pain of a wound in the knee is not

greater than the pain of a wound in the groin-are

points which to this day remain unsettled.

C&apter

THE anguish of my knee, continued the corporal,
was excessive in itself; and the uneasiness of
the cart, with the roughness of the roads, which
were terribly cut up—making bad still worse—every
step was death to me: so that with the loss of blood,
and the want of care-taking of me, and a fever I felt

coming on besides-(Poor soul! said my uncle Toby)

-all together, an' please your honour, was more

than I could sustain.

I was telling my sufferings to a young woman at a
peasant's house, where our cart, which was the last of
the line, had halted; they had help'd me in, and the
young woman had taken a cordial out of her pocket
and dropp'd it upon some sugar, and seeing it had
cheer'd me, she had given it me a second and a third

time-So I was telling her, an' please your honour,

the anguish I was in, and was saying it was so intolerable
to me, that I had much rather lie down upon the bed,
turning my face towards one which was in the corner

of the room—and die, than go on-when, upon her

attempting to lead me to it, I fainted away in her arms.
She was a good soul! as your honour, said the corporal,
wiping his eyes, will hear.

I thought love had been a joyous thing, quoth my
uncle Toby.

III.	K146

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

'Tis the most serious thing, an' please your honour
(sometimes), that is in the world.

By the persuasion of the young woman, continued
the corporal, the cart with the wounded men set off
without me: she had assured them I should expire
immediately if I was put into the cart. So when I

came to myself-1 found myself in a still quiet

cottage, with no one but the young woman, and the
peasant and his wife. I was laid across the bed in the
corner of the room, with my wounded leg upon a
chair, and the young woman beside me, holding the
corner of her handkerchief dipp'd in vinegar to my
nose with one hand, and rubbing my temples with the
other.

I took her at first for the daughter of the peasant
(for it was no inn)—so had ofFer'd her a little purse
with eighteen florins, which my poor brother Tom
(here Trim wip'd his eyes) had sent me as a token, by
a recruit, just before he set out for Lisbon.-

-1 never told your honour that piteous story yet

--here Trim wiped his eyes a third time.

The young woman call'd the old man and his wife
into the room, to 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 hospital-Come then ! said she, tying up the

little purse—I'll be your banker—but as that office
alone will not keep me employ'd, I'll be your nurse
too.

I thought by her manner of speaking this, as well as
by her dress, which I then began to consider more

attentively-that the young woman could not be the

daughter of the peasant.

She was in black down to her toes, with her hair
conceal'd under a cambric border, laid close to her
forehead: she was one of those kind of nuns, an'OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

*47

please your honour, of which, your honour knows,
there are a good many in Flanders, which they let go

loose-By thy description, Trim, said my uncle

Toby, I dare say she was a young Beguine, of which
there are none to be found any where but in the

Spanish Netherlands—except at Amsterdam-they

differ from nuns in this, that they can quit their
cloister if they choose to marry; they visit and take

care of the sick by profession-—I had rather, for my

own part, they did it out of good-nature.

-She often told me, quoth Trim, she did it for

the love of Christ—I did not like it.-1 believe,

Trim, we are both wrong, said my uncle Toby—we'll
ask Mr Torich about it to-night at my brother Shandy9s
-so put me in mind; added my uncle Toby.

The young Beguine, continued the corporal, had
scarce given herself time to tell me " she would be my
nurse," when she hastily turned about to begin the

office of one, and prepare something for me-and in

a short time—though I thought it a long one—she
came back with flannels, &c. &c., and having fomented
my knee soundly for a couple of hours, &c., and made
me a thin bason of gruel for my supper—she wish'd
me rest, and promised to be with me early in the

morning.-She wish'd me, an' please your honour,

what was not to be had. My fever ran very high that
night—her figure made sad disturbance within me—I
was every moment cutting the world in two—to give
her half of it—and every moment was I crying, That
I had nothing but a knapsack and eighteen florins to

share with her-The whole night long was the fair

Beguine, like an angel, close by my bedside, holding
back my curtain and offering me cordials—and I
was only awakened from my dream by her coming
there at the hour promised, and giving them in reality.
In truth, she was scarce ever from me; and so143

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

accustomed was I to receive life from her hands, that
my heart sickened, and I lost colour when she left the
room : and yet, continued the corporal (making one of

the strangest reflections upon it in the world)-

-"// was not love"-for during the three

weeks she was almost constantly with me, fomenting
my knee with her hand, night and day—I can honestly
say, an' please your honour—that * * * *

\1A	jig.	A.	Jto.	A	A	Ab.	A

Vff	4*	TfT	Jfi	vpf	7f?	/ff	Vf*	vff	"	Tff

* * once.

That was very odd, Trim, quoth my uncle Toby.
I think so too—said Mrs Wadman.

It never did, said the corporal.

Chapter ppu

-But 'tis no marvel, continued the corporal—

seeing my uncle Toby musing upon it—for Love, an'
please your honour, is exactly like war, in this ; that a
soldier, though he has escaped three weeks complete
o' Saturday night,—may nevertheless be shot through

his heart on Sunday morning-It happened so here,

an' please your honour, with this difference only—that
it was on Sunday in the afternoon, when I fell in love

all at once with a sisserara-It burst upon me, an'

please your honour, like a bomb-scarce giving me

time to say, " God bless me. "

I thought, Trim, said my uncle Toby, a man never
fell in love so very suddenly.

Yes, an' please your honour, if he is in the way of

it-replied Trim.

I prithee, quoth my uncle Toby, inform me how this
matter happened.

-With all pleasure, said the corporal, making

a bow.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

I49

CD6apter w\U

1HAD 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 other-
wise-there is no resisting our fate.

It was on a Sunday, in the afternoon, as I told your
honour.

The old man and his wife had walked out--

Every thing was still and hush as midnight about the
house-

There was not so much as a duck or a duckling
about the yard-

-When the fair Beguine came in to see me.

My wound was then in a fair way of doing well-

the inflammation had been gone off for some time, but it
was succeeded with an itching both above and below
my knee, so insufferable, that I had not shut my eyes
the whole night for it.

Let me see it, said she, kneeling down upon the
ground parallel to my knee, and laying her hand upon

the part below it--it only wants rubbing a little, said

the Beguine ; so covering it with the bed-clothes, she
began with the fore-finger of her right hand to rub
under my knee, guiding her fore-finger backwards and
forwards by the edge of the flannel which kept on the
dressing.

In five or six minutes I felt slightly the end of her
second finger—and presently it was laid flat with the
other, and she continued rubbing in that way round and
round for a good while; it then came into my head,
that I should fall in love—I blush* d when I saw how
white a hand she had—I shall never, an' please
your honour, behold another hand so white whilst I
live-THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

-Not in that place; said my uncle Toby-

Though it was the most serious despair in nature to
the corporal—he could not forbear smiling.

The young Beguine, continued the corporal, perceiv-
ing it was of great service to me—from rubbing for
some time, with two fingers—proceeded to rub at
length, with three—till by little and little she brought
down the fourth, and then rubb'd with her whole hand :
I will never say another word, an' please your honour,

upon hands again—but it was softer than sattin-

-Prithee, Trim, commend it as much as thou

wilt, said my uncle Toby ; I shall hear thy story with

the more delight-The corporal thank'd his master

most unfeignedly; but having nothing to say upon the
Beguine's hand but the same over again-he pro-
ceeded to the effects of it.

The fair Beguine, said the corporal, continued
rubbing with her whole hand under my knee—till I

fear'd her zeal would weary her-" I would do a

thousand times more," said she, "for the love of

Christ"-In saying which, she pass'd her hand

across the flannel, to the part above my knee, which I
had equally complain'd of, and rubb'd it also.

I perceived, then, I was beginning to be in love-

As she continued rub-rub-rubbing—I felt it spread
from under her hand, an' please your honour, to every

part of my frame-

The more she rubb'd, and the longer strokes she

took-the more the fire kindled in my veins-till

at length, by two or three strokes longer than the rest

-my passion rose to the highest pitch-1 seiz'd

her hand-

-And then thou clapped'st it to thy lips, Trim>

said my uncle Toby-and madest a speech.

Whether the corporal's amour terminated precisely
in the way my uncle Toby described it, is not material;OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

it is enough that it contained in it the essence of all the
love romances which ever have been wrote since the
beginning of the world.

C&apter y$\\u

AS soon as the corporal had finished the story of
his amour—or rather my uncle Toby for him—
Mrs IVadman silently sallied forth from her
arbour, replaced the pin in her mob, pass'd the wicker-
gate, and advanced slowly towards my uncle Toby's
sentry-box: the disposition which Trim had made in
my uncle Toby's mind, was too favourable a crisis to

be let slipp'd-

-The attack was determin'd upon: it was

facilitated still more by my uncle Toby's having ordered
the corporal to wheel off the pioneer's shovel, the
spade, the pick-axe, the picquets, and other military
stores which lay scatter'd upon the ground where
Dunkirk stood—The corporal had march'd—the field
was clear.

Now, consider, sir, what nonsense it is, either in
fighting, or writing, or any thing else (whether in
rhyme to it, or not) which a man has occasion to do
—to act by plan : for if ever Plan, independent of all
circumstances, deserved registering in letters of gold (I
mean in the archives of Gotham)—it was certainly the
Plan of Mrs Wadmati s attack of my uncle Toby in his

sentry-box, by Plan-Now the plan hanging up in

it at this juncture, being the Plan of Dunkirk—and the
tale of Dunkirk a tale of relaxation, it opposed every
impression she could make: and besides, could she
have gone upon it—the manoeuvre of fingers and hands
in the attack of the sentry-box, was so outdone by that152

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

of the fair Beguinis, in Trim s story—that just then,
that particular attack, however successful before—be-
came the most heartless attack that could be made-

O ! let woman alone for this. Mrs Wadman had
scarce open'd the wicket-gate, when her genius
sported with the change of circumstances.

-She formed a new attack in a moment.

Chapter pjrtk

--I am half distracted, captain Shandy, said Mrs

Wadman, holding up her cambrick handkerchief to her
left eye, as she approach'd the door of my uncle Toby's

sentry-box-a mote-or sand-or something

-1 know not what, has got into this eye of mine

-do look into it—it is not in the white—

In saying which, Mrs Wadman edged herself close
in beside my uncle Toby, and squeezing herself down
upon the corner of his bench, she gave him an oppor-
tunity of doing it without rising up-Do look into it

—said she.

Honest soul! thou didst look into it with as much
innocency of heart, as ever child look'd into a raree-
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 nature-I've nothing to say to it-

My uncle Toby never did: and I will answer for him,
that he would have sat quietly upon a sofa from June
to January (which, you know, takes in both the hot
and cold months), with an eye as fine as the Thracian #

* Rodope Thracia tam inevitabili fascino instructa, tam
exacts oculus intuens attraxit, ut si in illam quis incidisset, fieri
non posset, quin caperetur.-1 know not who.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

153

Rodopis beside him, without being able to tell, whether
it was a black or blue one.

The difficulty was to get my uncle Toby, to look at
one at all.

'Tis surmounted. And

I see him yonder with his pipe pendulous in his
hand, and the ashes falling out of it—looking—and
looking—then rubbing his eyes—and looking again,
with twice the good-nature that ever Gallileo look'd for
a spot in the sun.

-In vain! for by all the powers which animate

the organ-Widow Wadman s left eye shines this

moment as lucid as her right-there is neither mote,

or sand, or dust, or chaff, or speck, or particle of opake
matter floating in it—There is nothing, my dear paternal
uncle! but one lambent delicious lire, furtively shoot-
ing out from every part of it, in all directions, into
thine-

-If thou lookest, uncle Toby, in search of this

mote one moment longer-thou art undone.

C&apter ppto*

AN eye is for all the world exactly like a cannon, in
, this respect; That it is not so much the eye or
the cannon, in themselves, as it is the carriage

of the eye-and the carriage of the cannon, by which

both the one and the other are enabled to do so much
execution. I don't think the comparison a bad one ;
However, as 'tis made and placed at the head of the
chapter, as much for use as ornament, all I desire in
return, is, that whenever I speak of Mrs Wadman's
eyes (except once in the next period), that you keep it
in your fancy154

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

I protest, Madam, said my uncle Toby, I can see
nothing whatever in your eye.

It is not in the white; said Mrs Wadman: my
uncle Toby look'd with might and main into the
pupil-

Now of all the eyes which ever were created-

from your own, Madam, up to those of Venus herself,
which certainly were as venereal a pair of eyes as ever

stood in a head-there never was an eye of them all,

so fitted to rob my uncle Toby of his repose, as the

very eye, at which he was looking-it was not,

Madam, a rolling eye-a romping or a wanton one

—nor was it an eye sparkling—petulant or imperious
—of high claims and terrifying exactions, which would
have curdled at once that milk of human nature, of

which my uncle Toby was made up-but 'twas an

eye full of gentle salutations-and soft responses-

speaking-not like the trumpet stop of some ill-made

organ, in which many an eye I talk to, holds coarse

converse-but whispering soft-like the last low

accent of an expiring saint-" How can you live

comfortless, captain Shandy, and alone, without a bosom
to lean your head on-or trust your cares to ?"

It was an eye-

But I shall be in love with it myself, if I say another
word about it.

-It did my uncle Toby's business.

CJupter

THERE is nothing shews the character of my
father and my uncle Toby, in a more entertain-
ing light, than their different manner of deport-
ment, under the same accident-for I call not love aOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

155

misfortune, from a persuasion, that a man's heart is ever

the better for it-Great God ! what must my uncle

Toby%s have been, when 'twas all benignity without it.

My father, as appears from many of his papers, was

very subject to this passion, before he married-but

from a little subacid kind of drollish impatience in his
nature, whenever it befell him, he would never submit
to it like a christian; but would pish, and huff, and
bounce, and kick, and play the Devil, and write the
bitterest Philippicks against the eye that ever man

wrote-there is one in verse upon somebody's eye

or other, that for two or three nights together, had put
him by his rest; which in his first transport of resent-
ment against it, he begins thus:

" A Devil 'tis-and mischief such doth work

As never yet did Pagan, Jew, or Turk" *

In short, during the whole paroxism, my father was
all abuse and foul language, approaching rather towards

malediction-only he did not do it with as much

method as Ernulphus-he was too impetuous; nor

with Ernulphus*s policy-for tho' my father, with

the most intolerant spirit, would curse both this and
that, and every thing under heaven, which was either

aiding or abetting to his love-yet never concluded

his chapter of curses upon it, without cursing himself
in at the bargain, as one of the most egregious fools
and coxcombs, he would say, that ever was let loose
in the world.

My uncle Toby, on the contrary, took it like a lamb
-sat still and let the poison work in his veins with-
out resistance-in the sharpest exacerbations of his

wound (like that on his groin) he never dropt one
fretful or discontented word-he blamed neither

* This will be printed with my father's Life of Socrates,
&c. &c.156	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

heaven nor earth——or thought or spoke an injurious
thing of any body, or any part of it; he sat solitary

and pensive with his pipe-looking at his lame leg

-then whiffing out a sentimental heigh ho! which

mixing with the smoke, incommoded no one mortal.

He took it like a lamb-1 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 Toby's house, and of
singular service to him in his description of the battle
of Wynnendale—by trotting on too hastily to save it

-upon an uneasy saddle-worse horse, &c.

&c. . . it had so happened, that the serous part of the
blood had got betwixt the two skins, in the nether-
most part of my uncle Toby-the first shootings of

which (as my uncle Toby had no experience of love)
he had taken for a part of the passion—till the blister
breaking in the one case—and the other remaining—
my uncle Toby was presently convinced, that his wound

was not a skin-deep wound-but that it had gone

to his heart.

Chapter jcjfttf.

THE world is ashamed of being virtuous-My

uncle Toby knew little of the world; and
therefore when he felt he was in love with
widow Wadman, he had no conception that the thing
was any more to be made a mystery of, than if Mrs
Wadman had given him a cut with a gap'd knife across
his finger: Had it been otherwise-yet as he ever

* Mr Shandy must mean the poor in spirit; inasmuch as
they divided the money amongst themselves.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

I57

look'd upon Trim as a humble friend; and saw fresh

reasons every day of his life, to treat him as such--

it would have made no variation in the manner in
which he informed him of the affair.

" I am in love, corporal! " quoth my uncle Toby,

Chapter ppbiij*

IN love !-——said the corporal—your honour was
very well the day before yesterday, when I was
telling your honour the story of the King of

Bohemia—Bohemia / said my uncle Toby----musing

a long time---What became of that story, Trim P

—We lost it, an' please your honour, somehow
betwixt us—but your honour was as free from love

then, as I am-'twas just whilst thou went'st off

with the wheel-barrow-with Mrs Wadman, quoth

my uncle Toby——She has left a ball here—added my

uncle Toby—pointing to his breast-

-She can no more, an' please your honour, stand

a siege, than she can fly—cried the corporal-

--—But as we are neighbours, Trim,—the best way

I think is to let her know it civilly first—quoth my
uncle Toby.

Now if I might presume, said the corporal, to differ

from your honour-

—Why else do I talk to thee, Trim P said my uncle

Toby, mildly-

—Then I would begin, an' please your honour, with
making a good thundering attack upon her, in return—
and telling her civilly afterwards—for if she knows
anything of your honour's being in love, before hand
—-L—d help her!—she knows no more at presentTHE LIFE AND OPINIONS

of it, Trim, said my uncle Toby—than the child un-
born-

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
affairs, which the Devil, who never lies dead in a ditch,
had put into her head—before he would allow half time,
to get quietly through her Te Deum.

I am terribly afraid, said widow Wadman, in case I
should marry him, Bridget—that the poor captain will
not enjoy his health, with the monstrous wound upon

his groin-

It may not, Madam, be so very large, replied Bridget,

as you think--and I believe, besides, added she—

that 'tis dried up-

-1 could like to know—merely for his sake, said

Mrs Wadman-

-—We'll know the long and the broad of it, in ten
days—answered Mrs Bridget, for whilst the captain is
paying his addresses to you—I'm confident Mr Trim
will be for making love to me—and I'll let him as
much as he will—added Bridget—to get it all out of
him-

The measures were taken at once-and my uncle

Toby and the corporal went on with theirs.

Now, quoth the corporal, setting his left hand
a-kimbo, and giving such a flourish with his right,

as just promised success—and no more-if your

honour will give me leave to lay down the plan of this
attack-

-Thou wilt please me by it, Trim9 said my uncle

Toby, exceedingly—and as I foresee thou must act in
it as my aid de camp, here's a crown, corporal, to begin
with, to steep thy commission.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

*59

Then, an' please your honour, said the corporal
(making a bow first for his commission)—we will
begin with getting your honour's laced cloaths out of
the great campaign-trunk, to be well air'd, and have
the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves—and I'll
put your white ramallie-wig fresh into pipes—and send
for a taylor, to have your honour's thin scarlet breeches
turn'd-

—I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my

uncle Toby-They will be too clumsy—said the

corporal.

CD&apUr

-Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my

sword-'Twill be only in your honour's way, replied

Trim.

C&apter

-But your honour's two razors shall be new set

—and I will get my Montero cap furbish'd up, and put
on poor lieutenant Le Fever s regimental coat, which
your honour gave me to wear for his sake—and as
soon as your honour is clean shaved—and has got
your clean shirt on, with your blue and gold, or your

fine scarlet-sometimes one and sometimes t'other

—and every thing is ready for the attack—we'll march
up boldly, as if 'twas to the face of a bastion ; and
whilst your honour engages Mrs Wadman in the

parlour, to the right-I'll attack Mrs Bridget in the

kitchen, to the left; and having seiz'd the pass, I'll
answer for it, said the corporal, snapping his fingers
over his head—that the day is our own.l6o	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

I wish I may but manage it right; said my uncle
Toby—but I declare, corporal, I had rather march up
to the very edge of a trench--

—A woman is quite a different thing—said the
corporal.

•—I suppose so, quoth my uncle Toby.

Chapter vwU

IF any thing in this world, which my father said,
could have provoked my uncle Toby, during the
time he was in love, it was the perverse use my
father was always making of an expression of Hilarion
the hermit; who, in speaking of his abstinence, his
watchings, flagellations, and other instrumental parts
of his religion—would say—tho' with more facetious-
ness than became an hermit—"That they were the
means he used, to make his ass (meaning his body)
leave off kicking."

It pleased my father well; it was not only a laconick

way of expressing-—but of libelling, at the same

time, the desires and appetites of the lower part of us;
so that for many years of my father's life, 'twas his
constant mode of expression—-he never used the word

passions once—but ass always instead of them-So

that he might be said truly, to have been upon the
bones, or the back of his own ass, or else of some
other man's, during all that time.

I must here observe to you the difference betwixt
My father's ass

and my hobby-horse—in order to keep char-
acters as separate as may be, in our fancies as we go
along.

For my hobby-horse, if you recollect a little, is noOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

161

way a vicious beast; he has scarce one hair or linea-
ment of the ass about him-'Tis the sporting little

filly-folly which carries you out for the present hour
—-a maggot, a butterfly, a picture, a fiddlestick—an
uncle Toby's siege—-or an any thing, which a man
makes a shift to get a-stride on, to canter it away from
the cares and solicitudes of life—'Tis as useful a beast
as is in the whole creation—nor do I really see how
the world could do without it-

-But for my father's ass-oh! mount him

—mount him—mount him—(that's three times, is it
not?)—mount him not:—'tis a beast concupiscent—
and foul befal the man, who does not hinder him from
kicking.

C&apter

WELL! dear brother Toby, said my father,
upon his first seeing him after he fell in love
—$nd how goes it with your Asse ?

Now my uncle Toby thinking more of the part
where he had had the blister, than of Hilarious
metaphor—and our preconceptions having (you know)
as great a power over the sounds of words as the
shapes of things, he had imagined, that my father,
who was not very ceremonious in his choice of words,
had enquired after the part by its proper name; so
notwithstanding my mother, doctor Slop> and Mr
Torick9 were sitting in the parlour, he thought it rather
civil to conform to the term my father had made use
of than not. When a man is hemm'd in by two
indecorums, and must commit one of 'em—I always
observe — let him chuse which he will, the world
will blame him—so I should not be astonished if it
blames my uncle Toby.

iii.	l162	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

My A—e, quoth my uncle Toby, is much better—
brother Shandy—My father had formed great expecta-
tions from his Asse in this onset; and would have
brought him on again; but doctor Slop setting up an
intemperate laugh—and my mother crying out L—
bless us!—it drove my father's Asse off the field—and
the laugh then becoming general—there was no bring-
ing him back to the charge, for some time-

And so the discourse went on without him.

Every body, said my mother, says you are in love,
brother Toby,—and we hope it is true.

I am as much in love, sister, I believe, replied my

uncle Toby, as any man usually is-Humph! said

my father-and when did you know it ? quoth my

mother-

-When the blister broke; replied my uncle

Toby.

My uncle Toby's reply put my father into good
temper—so he charg'd o' foot.

C&apter wfiiU

AS the ancients agree, brother Toby, said my father,
that there are two different and distinct kinds
of love, according to the different parts which

are affected by it—the Brain or Liver-1 think

when a man is in love, it behoves him a little to con-
sider which of the two he is fallen into.

What signifies it, brother Shandy, replied my uncle
Toby, which of the two it is, provided it will but
make a man marry, and love his wife, and get a few
children ?

-A few children ! cried my father, rising out of

his chair, and looking full in my mother's face, as heOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.	163

forced his way betwixt her's and doctor Slop's-—a few
children! cried my father, repeating my uncle Toby's

words as he walk'd to and fro-

-Not, my dear brother Toby, cried my father,

recovering himself all at once, and coming close up to
the back of my uncle Toby's chair—not that I should
be sorry hadst thou a score—on the contrary, I should
rejoice—and be as kind, Tobyy to every one of them as
a father—

My uncle Toby stole his hand unperceived behind

his chair, to give my father's a squeeze-

-Nay, moreover, continued he, keeping hold of

my uncle Toby's hand—so much dost thou possess,
my dear Toby, of the milk of human nature, and so little
of its asperities—'tis piteous the world is not peopled
by creatures which resemble thee; and was I an
Asiatic monarch, added my father, heating himself
with his new project—I would oblige thee, provided
it would not impair thy strength—or dry up thy
radical moisture too fast—or weaken thy memory or
fancy, brother Toby, which these gymnics inordinately
taken are apt to do—else, dear Toby, I would procure
thee the most beautiful women in my empire, and I
would oblige thee, nolens, nolens, to beget for me one

subject every month-

As my father pronounced the last word of the
sentence—my mother took a pinch of snuff.

Now I would not, quoth my uncle Toby, get a
child, nolens, nolens, that is, whether I would or no, to

please the greatest prince upon earth-

-And 'twould be cruel in me, brother Toby, to

compel thee; said my father—but 'tis a case put to
shew thee, that it is not thy begetting a child—in case
thou should'st be able—but the system of Love and
Marriage thou goest upon, which I would set thee
right in-164

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

There is at least, said Torick, a great deal of reason
and plain sense in captain Shandy's opinion of love;
and 'tis amongst the ill-spent hours of my life, which I
have to answer for, that I have read so many flourish-
ing poets and rhetoricians in my time, from whom I

never could extract so much-

I wish, Toricky said my father, you had read Plato ;
for there you would have learnt that there are two
Loves—I know there were two Religions, replied

Torick, amongst the ancients-one—for the vulgar,

and another for the learned;—but I think one Love
might have served both of them very well—

It could not; replied my father—and for the same
reasons: for of these Loves, according to Ficinus's

comment upon Velasius, the one is rational-

-the other is natural-

the first ancient-without mother-where Venus

had nothing to do 2 the second, begotten of Jupiter and
Dione—

-Pray, brother, quoth my uncle Toby, what has

a man who believes in God to do with this? My
father could not stop to answer, for fear of breaking the

thread of his discourse-

This latter, continued he, partakes wholly of the
nature of Venus.

The first, which is the golden chain let down from
heaven, excites to love heroic, which comprehends in
it, and excites to the desire of philosophy and truth

the second, excites to desire, simply-

-1 think the procreation of children as bene-
ficial to the world, said Torich, as the finding out the

longitude-

-To be sure, said my mother, love keeps peace

in the world-

-In the house—my dear, I own—

-It replenishes the earth; said my mother-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

165

But it keeps heaven empty—my dear; replied my
father.

-'Tis Virginity, cried Slop, triumphantly, which

fill

MY father had such a skirmishing, cutting kind of
a slashing way with him in his disputations,
thrusting and ripping, and giving every one a
stroke to remember him by in his turn—that if there
were twenty people in company—in less than half an
hour he was sure to have every one of 'em against
him.

What did not a little contribute to leave him thus
without an ally, was, that if there was any one post
more untenable than the rest, he would be sure to throw
himself into it; and to do him justice, when he was
once there, he would defend it so gallantly, that 'twould
have been a concern, either to a brave man or a good-
natured one, to have seen him driven out.

Tor'tcky for this reason, though he would often attack
him—yet could never bear to do it with all his force.

Doctor Slop's Virginity, in the close of the last
chapter, had got him for once on the right side of the
rampart; and he was beginning to blow up all the
convents in Christendom about Slop's ears, when corporal
Trim came into the parlour to inform my uncle Toby,
that his thin scarlet breeches, in which the attack was
to be made upon Mrs Wadman, would not do; for
that the taylor, in ripping them up, in order to turn

them, had found they had been turn'd before-

Then turn them again, brother, said my father, rapidly,



ChapterTHE LIFE AND OPINIONS

for there will be many a turning of 'em yet before all's

done in the affair-They are as rotten as dirt, said

the corporal-Then by all means, said my father,

bespeak a new pair, brother-for though I know,

continued my father, turning himself to the company,
that widow Wadman has been deeply in love with my
brother Toby for many years, and has used every art and
circumvention of woman to outwit him into the same

passion, yet now that she has caught him-her fever

will be pass'd its height-

-She has gain'd her point.

In this case, continued my father, which Plato, I am

persuaded, never thought of-Love, you see, is not

so much a Sentiment as a Situation, into which a man

enters, as my brother Toby would do, into a corps-

no matter whether he loves the service or no-being

once in it—he acts as if he did; and takes every step
to shew himself a man of prowesse.

The hypothesis, like the rest of my father's, was
plausible enough, and my uncle Toby had but a single
word to object to it—in which Trim stood ready to
second him-but my father had not drawn his con-
clusion-

For this reason, continued my father (stating the
case over again)—notwithstanding all the world knows,
that Mrs Wadman affects my brother Toby—and my
brother Toby contrariwise affects Mrs Wadman, and no
obstacle in nature to forbid the music striking up this
very night, yet will I answer for it, that this self-same
tune will not be play'd this twelvemonth.

We have taken our measures badly, quoth my uncle
Toby, looking up interrogatively in Trim's face.

I would lay my Montero-cz$, said Trim-Now

Trim's Montero-cap, as I once told you, was his con-
stant wager; and having furbish'd it up that very
night, in order to go upon the attack—it made theOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

167

odds look more considerable-1 would lay, an* please

your honour, my Monfero-caip to a shilling—was it
proper, continued Trim (making a bow), to offer a

wager before your honours-

-There is nothing improper in it, said my father

—'tis a mode of expression; for in saying thou would'st
lay thy Montero-cap to a shilling—all thou meanest is

this—that thou believest-

-Now, What do'st thou believe ?

That widow Wadman, an' please your worship,

cannot hold it out ten days-

And whence, cried Slop, jeeringly, hast thou all
this knowledge of woman, friend ?

By falling in love with a popish clergywoman;
said Trim,

'Twas a Beguine, said my uncle Toby.

Doctor Slop was too much in wrath to listen to the
distinction; and my father taking that very crisis to
fall in helter-skelter upon the whole order of Nuns and

Beguines, a set of silly, fusty, baggages-Slop could

not stand it-and my uncle Toby having some measures

to take about his breeches—and Tortck about his fourth
general division—in order for their several attacks next
day—the company broke up : and my father being left
alone, and having half an hour upon his hands betwixt
that and bed-time; he called for pen, ink, and paper,
and wrote my uncle Toby the following letter of in-
structions :

My dear brother Toby,

WHAT I am going to say to thee is upon
the nature of women, and of love-making to
them 5 and perhaps it is as well for thee—
tho' not so well for me—that thou hast occasion for a168

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

letter of instructions upon that head, and that I am able
to write it to thee.

Had it been the good pleasure of him who disposes
of our lots—and thou no sufferer by the knowledge, I
had been well content that thou should'st have dipp'd
the pen this moment into the ink, instead of myself;

but that not being the case-Mrs Shandy

being now close beside me, preparing for bed-1

have thrown together without order, and just as they
have come into my mind, such hints and documents
as I deem may be of use to thee; intending, in this, to
give thee a token of my love; not doubting, my dear
Toby, of the manner in which it will be accepted.
In the first place, with regard to all which concerns

religion in the affair-though I perceive from a glow

in my cheek, that I blush as I begin to speak to thee
upon the subject, as well, knowing, notwithstanding
thy unaffected secrecy, how few of its offices thou
neglectest—yet I would remind thee of one (during the
continuance of thy courtship) in a particular manner,
which I would not have omitted; and that is, never
to go forth upon the enterprize, whether it be in the
morning or the afternoon, without first recommending
thyself to the protection of Almighty God, that he
may defend thee from the evil one.

Shave the whole top of thy crown clean once at
least every four or five days, but oftner if convenient;
lest in taking off thy wig before her, thro' absence of
mind, she should be able to discover how much has

been cut away by Time-how much by Trim,

—'Twere better to keep ideas of baldness out of
her fancy.

Always carry it in thy mind, and act upon it as a

sure maxim, Toby-

66 That women are timid:99 And 'tis well they are
-else there would be no dealing with them.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

169

Let not thy breeches be too tight, or hang too loose
about thy thighs, like the trunk-hose of our ancestors.

-A just medium prevents all conclusions.

Whatever thou hast to say, be it more or less, forget
not to utter it in a low soft tone of voice. Silence,
and whatever approaches it, weaves dreams of midnight
secrecy into the brain: For this cause, if thou canst
help it, never throw down the tongs and poker.

Avoid all kinds of pleasantry and facetiousness in
thy discourse with her, and do whatever lies in thy
power at the same time, to keep from her all books
and writings which tend thereto: there are some
devotional tracts, which if thou canst entice her to
read over—it will be well: but suffer her not to look
into Rabelais, or Scarron, or Don Quixote-

-They are all books which excite laughter ;

and thou 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 it-thou canst not lay

thy hand on hers, but she will feel the temper of thine.
Leave that and as many other things as thou canst,
quite undetermined; by so doing, thou wilt have her
curiosity on thy side; and if she is not conquered by
that, and thy Asse continues still kicking, which there

is great reason to suppose-Thou must begin, with

first losing a few ounces of blood below the ears,
according to the practice of the ancient Scythians, who
cured the most intemperate fits of the appetite by that
means.

Avicenna, after this, is for having the part anointed
with the syrup of hellebore, using proper evacuations
and purges-and I believe rightly. But thou mustTHE LIFE AND OPINIONS

eat little or no goat's flesh, nor red deer-nor even

foal's flesh by any means; and carefully abstain-

that is, as much as thou canst, from peacocks, cranes,

coots, didappers, and water-hens-

As for thy drink—I need not tell thee, it must be
the infusion of Vervain and the herb Hanea, of which
JElian relates such effects—but if thy stomach palls
with it—discontinue it from time to time, taking
cucumbers, melons, purslane, water-lillies, woodbine,
and lettice, in the stead of them.

There is nothing further for thee, which occurs to

me at present-

-Unless the breaking out of a fresh war-So

wishing every thing, dear Toby, for the best,

I rest thy affectionate brother,

Walter Shandy.

-&}<$&-
Chapter fjcjcto.

WHILST my father was writing his letter of
instructions, my uncle Toby and the corporal
were busy in preparing every thing for the
attack. As the turning of the thin scarlet breeches
was laid aside (at least for the present), there was
nothing which should put it off beyond the next
morning; so accordingly it was resolv'd upon, for
eleven o'clock.

Come, my dear, said my father to my mother—
'twill be but like a brother and sister, if you and I
take a walk down to my brother Toby9s-to coun-
tenance him in this attack of his.

My uncle Toby and the corporal had been accoutred
both some time, when my father and mother enter'd,
and the clock striking eleven, were that moment in
motion to sally forth—but the account of this is worthOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.	171

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-pocket——and join with my mother in
wishing his attack prosperous.

I could like, said my mother, to look through the

key-hole out of curiosity-Call it by its right name,

my dear, quoth my father—

And look through the key^hole as long as you will.

* Alluding to the first edition.

THE

LIFE AND OPINIONS

OF

TRISTRAM SHANDY,

GENTLEMAN.

Non enim excursus hie ejuss sed opus ipsum est.

Plin. Lib. v. Epist. 6.

Si quid urbaniuscute lusum a nobis, per Musas et Charitas et
omnium poetarum Numina, Oro te, ne me mal& capias.A DEDICATION

TO

A GREAT MAN.

HAVING, a priori, intended to dedicate The

Amours of my Uncle Toby to Mr * * *-1

see more reasons, a posteriorly for doing it to
Lord *******

I should lament from my soul, if this exposed me to
the jealousy of their Reverences; because a posteriorly
in Court-latin, signifies the kissing hands for preferment
—or any thing else—in order to get it.

My opinion of Lord ******* is neither better
nor worse, than it was of Mr * * *. Honours, like
impressions upon coin, may give an ideal and local
value to a bit of base metal; but Gold and Silver will
pass all the world over without any other recom-
mendation than their own weight.

*75176

DEDICATION.

The same good-will that made me think of offering
up half ail hour's amusement to Mr * * * when out of
place—operates more forcibly at present, as half an
hour's amusement will be more serviceable and re-
freshing after labour and sorrow, than after a philo-
sophical repast.

Nothing is so perfectly amusement as a total change
of ideas 5 no ideas are so totally different as those of
Ministers, and innocent Lovers: for which reason,
when I come to talk of Statesmen and Patriots, and
set such marks upon them as will prevent confusion
and mistakes concerning them for the future—I pro-
pose to dedicate that Volume to some gentle Shepherd,

Whose thoughts proud Science never taught to stray,

Far as the Statesman's walk or Patriot-way;

Yet simple Nature to his hopes had given
Out of a cloud-capp'd head a humbler heaven ;

Some untarrCd World in depths of wood embraced—

Some happier Island in the watry-waste—

And where admitted to that equal sky,

His faithful Dog 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 Contem-
plations. In the mean time,

I am

THE AUTHOR.BOOK IX.

I CALL all the powers of time and chance, which
severally check us in our careers in this world, to
bear me witness, that I could never yet get fairly
to my uncle Toby*s amours, till this very moment, that

my mother's curiosity, as she stated the affair,-or a

different impulse in her, as my father would have it

-wished her to take a peep at them through the

key-hole.

"Call it, my dear, by its right najne, quoth my
father, and look through the key-hole as long as you
will."

Nothing but the fermentation of that little subacid
humour, which I have often spoken of, in my father's

habit, could have vented such an insinuation--he

was however frank and generous in his nature, and at
all times open to conviction; so that he had scarce got
to the last word of this ungracious retort, when his
conscience smote him.

My mother was then conjugally swinging with her
left arm twisted under his right, in such wise, that the
inside of her hand rested upon the back of his—she

III.	177	M178

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

raised her fingers, and let them fall—it could scarce be

call'd a tap ; or if it was a tap-'twould have

puzzled a casuist to say, whether 'twas a tap of re-
monstrance, or a tap of confession: my father, who
was all sensibilities from head to foot, class'd it right-
Conscience redoubled her blow—he turn'd his face
suddenly the other way, and my mother supposing his
body was about to turn with it in order to move home-
wards, 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-Con-
fusion again ! he saw a thousand reasons to wipe out
the reproach, and as many to reproach himself——a
thin, blue, chill, pellucid chrystal with all its humours
so at rest, the least mote or speck of desire might have

been seen, at the bottom of it, had it existed-it did

not-and how I happen to be so lewd myself, par-
ticularly a little before the vernal and autumnal equinoxes

-Heaven above knows-My mother-madam

-was so at no time, either by nature, by institution,

or example,

A temperate current of blood ran orderly through
her veins in all months of the year, and in all critical
moments both of the day and night alike; nor did she
superinduce the least heat into her humours from the
manual effervescencies of devotional tracts, which
having little or no meaning in them, nature is oft-times

obliged to find one-And as for my father's example!

'twas so far from being either aiding or abetting there-
unto, that 'twas the whole business of his life to keep

all fancies of that kind out of her head-Nature had

done her part, to have spared him this trouble 5 and
what was not a little inconsistent, my father knew it

-And here am I sitting, this 12th day of August

1766, in a purple jerkin and yellow pair of slippers,
without either wig or cap on, a most tragicomicalOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

179

completion of his prediction, " That I should neither
think, nor act like any other man's child, upon that
very account."

The mistake in my father, was in attacking my
mother's motive, instead of the act itself; for certainly
key-holes were made for other purposes; and con-
sidering the act, as an act which interfered with a true
proposition, and denied a key-hole to be what it was

-—it became a violation of nature; and was so far,

you see, criminal.

It is for this reason, an' please your Reverences,
That key-holes are the occasions of more sin and
wickedness, than all other holes in this world put
together.

-which leads me to my uncle Toby's amours.



C&apter in

THOUGH the corporal had been as good as his
word in putting my uncle Toby's great ramallie-
wig into pipes, yet the time was too short to
produce any great effects from it: it had lain many
years squeezed up in the corner of his old campaign
trunk 5 and as bad forms are not so easy to be got the
better of, and the use of candle-ends not so well under-
stood, it was not so pliable a business as one would
have wished. The corporal with cheary eye and both
arms extended, had fallen back perpendicular from it a
score times, to inspire it, if possible, with a better air

-had spleen given a look at it, 'twould have cost

her ladyship a smile-it curl'd every where but

where the corporal would have it; and where a bucklel8o	THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

or two, in his opinion, would have done it honour, he
could as soon have raised the dead.

Such it was-or rather such would it have seem'd

upon any other brow; but the sweet look of goodness
which sat upon my uncle Toby's, assimilated every thing
around it so sovereignly to itself, and Nature had more-
over wrote Gentleman with so fair a hand in every line
of his countenance, that even his tarnish'd gold-laced
hat and huge cockade of flimsy taffeta became him;
and though not worth a button in themselves, yet the
moment my uncle Toby put them on, they became
serious objects, and altogether seem'd to have been
picked up by the hand of Science to set him off to
advantage.

Nothing in this world could have co-operated more
powerfully towards this, than my uncle Toby's blue and

gold-had not Quantity in some measure been necessary

to Grace: in a period of fifteen or sixteen years since
they had been made, by a total inactivity in my uncle
Toby's life, for he seldom went further than the bowling-
green—his blue and gold had become so miserably too
strait for him, that it was with the utmost difficulty
the corporal was able to get him into them; the taking

them up at the sleeves, was of no advantage.-They

were laced however down the back, and at the seams
of the sides, &c., in the mode of King William's reign ;
and to shorten all description, they shone so bright
against the sun that morning, and had so metallick and
doughty an air with them, that had my uncle Toby
thought of attacking in armour, nothing could have so
well imposed upon his imagination.

As for the thin scarlet breeches, they had been un-
ripp'd 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 impracticableOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.	l8l

the night before^ and as there was no alternative in
my uncle Toby's wardrobe, he sallied forth in the red
plush.

The corporal had array'd himself in poor Le Fever s
regimental coat; and with his hair tuck'd up under his
Montero"cap, which he had furbish'd up for the occa-
sion, march'd three paces distant from his master:
a whiff of military pride had pufFd out his shirt at the
wrist; and upon that in a black leather thong clipp'd
into a tassel beyond the knot, hung the corporal's stick
-My uncle Toby carried his cane like a pike.

-It looks well at least; quoth my father to

himself.

Chapter ttf*

MY uncle Toby turn'd his head more than once
behind him, tb see how he was supported by
the corporal; and the corporal as oft as he
did it, gave a slight flourish with his stick—but not
vapouringly; and with the sweetest accent of most
respectful encouragement, bid his honour " never
fear."

Now my uncle Toby did fear; and grievously too;
he knew not (as my father had reproached him) so
much as the right end of a Woman from the wrong,
and therefore was never altogether at his ease near any
one of them-unless in sorrow or distress; then in-
finite was his pity; nor would the most courteous
knight of romance have gone further, at least upon one
leg, to have wiped away a tear from a woman's eye;
and yet excepting once that he was beguiled into it by
Mrs Wadman, he had never looked stedfastly into one;182

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

and would often tell my father in the simplicity of his
heart, that it was almost (if not about) as bad as talking

bawdy.-

-And suppose it is ? my father would say.

CD&apter tin

SHE cannot, quoth my uncle Toby, halting, when
they had march'd up to within twenty paces of
Mrs Wadman's door—she cannot, corporal, take

it amiss.-

-She will take it, an' please your honour, said

the corporal, just as the Jew's widow at Lisbon took it

of my brother Tom.-

-And how was that ? quoth my uncle Toby%

facing quite about to the corporal.

Your honour, replied the corporal, knows of Torres
misfortunes ; but this affair has nothing to do with
them any further than this, That if Tom had not

married the widow-or had it pleased God after

their marriage, that they had but put pork into their
sausages, the honest soul had never been taken out of

his warm bed, and dragg'd to the inquisition-'Tis

a cursed place—added the corporal, shaking his head,
—when once a poor creature is in, he is in, an' please
your honour, for ever.

JTis very true; said my uncle Toby, looking gravely
at Mrs Wadman s house, as he spoke.

Nothing, continued the corporal, can be so sad as
confinement for life—or so sweet, an' please your
honour, as liberty.

Nothing, Trim-said my uncle Toby, musing—OF TRISTRAM SHANDY*	183

WMst a man is free,—cried the corporal, giving a
flourish with his stick thus-

A thousand of my father's most subtle syllogisms
could not have said more for celibacy.

My uncle Toby look'd earnestly towards his cottage
and his bowling-green.

The corporal had unwarily conjured up the Spirit
of calculation with his wand 5 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.184

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

*>♦

AS Torn s place, an' please your honour, was easy
j~\ —and the weather warm—it put him upon
thinking seriously of settling himself in the
world; and as it fell out about that time, that a Jew
who kept a sausage shop in the same street, had the ill
luck to die of a strangury, and leave his widow in

possession of a rousing trade-Tom thought (as

every body in Lisbon was doing the best he could
devise for himself) there could be no harm in offering
her his service to carry it on: so without any intro-
duction to the widow, except that of buying a pound
of sausages at her shop—Tom set out—counting the
matter thus within himself, as he walk'd along; that
let the worst come of it that could, he should at least
get a pound of sausages for their worth—but, if things
went well, he should be set up ; inasmuch as he should
get not only a pound of sausages—but a wife and—a
sausage shop, an' please your honour, into the bargain.

Every servant in the family, from high to low,
wish'd Tom success; and I can fancy, an' please your
honour, I see him this moment with his white dimity
waistcoat and breeches, and hat a little o' one side,
passing jollily along the street, swinging his stick, with
a smile and a 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 apostrophised him in his dungeon.

Poor fellow! said my uncle Toby, feelingly.

He was an honest, light-hearted lad, an' please your
honour, as ever blood warm'd-

-Then he resembled thee, Trim, said my uncle

Toby, rapidly.

The corporal blush'd down to his fingers ends—aOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

tear of sentimental bashfulness—another of gratitude to
my uncle Toby—and a tear of sorrow for his brother's
misfortunes, started into his eye, and ran sweetly down
his cheek together; my uncle Toby's kindled as one
lamp does at another; and taking hold of the breast of
Trim9s coat (which had been that of Le Fever's) as if
to ease his lame leg, but in reality to gratify a finer

feeling-he stood silent for a minute and a half; at

the end of which he took his hand away, and the
corporal making a bow, went on with his story of his
brother and the Jew's widow.

Chapter tou

WHEN Tom, an' please your honour, got to the
shop, there was nobody in it, but a poor
negro girl, with a bunch of white feathers
slightly tied to the end of a long cane, flapping away

flies—not killing them.-'Tis a pretty picture ! said

my uncle Toby—she had suffered persecution, Trim,

and had learnt mercy-

-She was good, an' please your honour, from

nature, as well as from hardships; and there are circum-
stances in the story of that poor friendless slut, that
would melt a heart of stone, said Trim ; and some
dismal winter's evening, when your honour is in the
humour, they shall be told you with the rest of Tom's

story, for it makes a part of it-

Then do not forget, Trim, said my uncle Toby.
A negro has a soul ? an' please your honour, said
the corporal (doubtingly).

I am not much versed, corporal, quoth my uncle
Toby, in things of that kind; but I suppose, Godi86

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

would not leave him witl out one, any more than thee
or me-

-It would be putting one sadly over the head of

another, quoth the corporal.

It would so; said my uncle Toby, Why then, an'
please your honour, is a black wench to be used worse
than a white one ?

I can give no reason, said my uncle Toby--

-Only, cried the corporal, shaking his head,

because she has no one to stand up for her-

-'Tis that very thing, Trim, quoth my uncle

Toby,-which recommends her to protection-

and her brethren with her; 'tis the fortune of war

which has put the whip into our hands now-where

it may be hereafter, heaven knows!-but be it where

it will, the brave, Trim ! will not use it unkindly.

-God forbid, said the corporal.

Amen, responded my uncle Toby, laying his hand
upon his heart.

The corporal returned to his story, and went on-

but with an embarrassment in doing it, which here and
there a reader in this world will not be able to com-
prehend ; 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 him-
self ; so giving a stout hem! to rally back the retreating
spirits, and aiding nature at the same time with his left
arm a-kimbo on one side, and with his right a little
extended, supporting her on the other—the corporal
got as near the note as he could; and in that attitude,
continued his story.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

187

Chapter totu

AS Tom, an' please your honour, had no business at
r\ that time with the Moorish girl, he passed on
into the room beyond, to talk to the Jew's

widow about love-and this pound of sausages 5 and

being, as I have told your honour, an open cheary-
hearted lad, with his character wrote in his looks and
carriage, he took a chair, and without much apology,
but with great civility at the same time, placed it close
to her at the table, and sat down.

There is nothing so awkward, as courting a woman,
an' please your honour, whilst she is making sausages

-So Tom began a discourse upon them; first,

gravely,-" as how they were made-with what

meats, herbs, and spices"—Then a little gayly,—as,

" With what skins-and if they never burst-

Whether the largest were not the best ?"-and so on

—taking care only as he went along, to season what he

had to say upon sausages, rather under than over;-

that he might have room to act in-

It was owing to the neglect of that very precaution,
said my uncle Toby, laying his hand upon Trim's
shoulder, that Count De la Motte lost the battle of
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 5 it was so late in the year, continued my
uncle Toby9 and so terrible a season came on, that if
things had not fallen out as they did, our troops must

have perish'd in the open 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 highi8S

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

idea of military skill tempted him to say another; so

not being able to frame a reply exactly to his mind-

my uncle Toby said nothing at all; and the corporal
finished his story.

As Tom perceived, an* please your honour, that he
gained ground, and that all he had said upon the subject
of sausages was kindly taken, he went on to help her a

little in making them.-First, by taking hold of the

ring of the sausage whilst she stroked the forced meat

down with her hand-then by cutting the strings into

proper lengths, and holding them in his hand, whilst

she took them out one by one-then, by putting them

across her mouth, that she might take them out as she

wanted them-and so on from little to more, till at

last he adventured to tie the sausage himself, whilst she

held the snout.-

-Now a widow, an* please your honour, always

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 Tom's had more gristle in it-

She signed the capitulation-and Tom sealed it;

and there was an end of the matter.

C&apt** tottj*

ALL womankind, continued Trim, (commenting
^ upon his story) from the highest to the lowest,
an' please your honour, love jokes 5 the diffi-
culty is to know how they chuse to have them cut;
and there is no knowing that, but by trying, as we doOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

189

with our artillery in the field, by raising or letting down

their breeches, till we hit the mark.-

-1 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 man-
kind more than either 5 and as the knowledge of arms
tends so apparently to the good and quiet of the world

-and particularly that branch of it which we have

practised together in our bowling-green, has no object
but to shorten the strides of Ambition, and intrench
the lives and fortunes of the few, from the plunderings

of the many-whenever that drum beats in our ears,

I trust, corporal, we shall neither of us want so much
humanity and fellow-feeling, as to face about and
march.

In pronouncing this, my uncle Toby faced about, and
march'd firmly as at the head of his company——and
the faithful corporal, shouldering his stick, and striking
his hand upon his coat-skirt as he took his first step

-march'd close behind him down the avenue.

-Now what can their two noddles be about?

cried my father to my mother-by all that's strange,

they are besieging Mrs IVadman in form, and are
marching round her house to mark out the lines of
circumvallation.

I dare say, quoth my mother-But stop,

dear Sir-for what my mother dared to say upon

the occasion-and what my father did say upon it

-with her replies and his rejoinders, shall be read,

perused, paraphrased, commented, and descanted upon
—or to say it all in a word, shall be thumb'd over by

Posterity in a chapter apart-1 say, by Posterity—

and care not, if I repeat the word again—for what has
this book done more than the Legation of Moses, or190

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 1 trace tells me with what rapidity Life
follows my pen; the days and hours of it, more precious,
my dear Jenny / than the rubies about thy neck, are
flying over our heads like light clouds of a windy day,
never to return more every thing presses on

whilst thou art twisting that lock,-see! it grows

grey ; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and
every absence which follows it, are preludes to that
eternal separation which we are shortly to make.-—

-Heaven have mercy upon us both!

CD&apter

NOW, for what the world thinks of that ejaculation
-1 would not give a groat.

Chapter

MY mother had gone with her left arm twisted in
my father's right, till they had got to the fatal
angle of the old garden wall, where Doctor
Slop was overthrown by Obadiah on the coach-horse:
as this was directly opposite to the front of Mrs Wad-
man s house, when my father came to it, he gave a
look across 5 and seeing my uncle Toby and the corporal

within ten paces of the door, he turn'd about-" Let

us just stop a moment, quoth my father, and see with
what ceremonies my brother Toby and his man TrimOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.	191

make their first entry-it will not detain us, added

my father, a single minute :"-No matter, if it be

ten minutes, quoth my mother.

——It will not detain us half one; said my father.

The corporal was just then setting in with the story
of his brother Tom and the Jew's widow: the story

went on—and on-it had episodes in it-it came

back, and went on-and on again; there was no

end of it-the reader found it very long--

-G— help my father! he pish'd fifty times at

every new attitude, and gave the corporal's stick, with
all its flourishings and danglings, to as many devils as
chose to accept of them.

When issues of events like these my father is waiting
for, are hanging in the scales of fate, the mind has the
advantage of changing the principle of expectation three
times, without which it would not have power to see
it out.

Curiosity governs the jirst moment; and the second
moment is all oeconomy to justify the expence of the

first-and for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth

moments, and so on to the day of judgment—'tis a
point of Honour.

I need not be told, that the ethic writers have
assigned this all to Patience; but that Virtue, me-
thinks, has extent of dominion sufficient of her own,
and enough to do in it, without invading the few dis-
mantled castles which Honour has left him upon the
earth.

My father stood it out as well as he could with these
three auxiliaries to the end of Trim's story 5 and from
thence to the end of my uncle Toby's panegyrick upon
arms, in the chapter following it; when seeing, that
instead of marching up to Mrs Wadman's door, they
both faced about and march'd down the avenue dia-
metrically opposite to his expectation—he broke out atTHE LIFE AND OPINIONS

once with that little subacid soreness of humour which,
in certain situations, distinguished his character from
that of all other men.

Chapter jiu

-" \ T O W what can their two noddles be about ?"

cried my father - - &c.----

I dare say, said my mother, they are

making fortifications-

—-Not on Mrs Wadmatfs premises! cried my

father, stepping back-

I suppose not: quoth my mother.

I wish, said my father, raising his voice, the whole
science of fortification at the devil, with all its
trumpery of saps, mines, blinds, gabions, fausse-brays

and cuvetts-

-They are foolish things-said my mother.

Now she had a way, which, by the bye, I would
this moment give away my purple jerkin, and my yellow
slippers into the bargain, if some of your reverences
would imitate—and that was, never to refuse her assent
and consent to any proposition my father laid before
her, merely because she did not understand it, or had
no ideas of the principal word or term of art, upon
which the tenet or proposition rolled. She contented
herself with doing all that her godfathers and god-
mothers promised for her—but no more; and so would
go on using a hard word twenty years together—and
replying to it too, if it was a verb, in all its moods and
tenses, without giving herself any trouble to enquire
about it.

This was an eternal source of misery to my father,
and broke the neck, at the first setting out, of more
good dialogues between them, than could have doneOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

*93

tlie most petulant contradiction-the few which sur-
vived were the better for the cuvetts-

—" They are foolish things ;" said my mother.

--Particularly the cuvetts ; replied my father.

'Tis enough—he tasted the sweet of triumph—and
went on.

—Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs Wad-
mar?s premises, said my father, partly correcting him-
self—because she is but tenant for life-

——That makes a great difference — said my

mother-

—In a fool's head, replied my father-

Unless she should happen to have a child—said my
mother-

--But she must persuade my brother Toby first to

get her one—

-To be sure, Mr Shandy, quoth my mother.

—-Though if it comes to persuasion—said my

father—Lord have mercy upon them.

Amen : said my mother, piano.

Amen : cried my father, fortissime.

Amen: said my mother again-but with such a

sighing cadence of personal pity at the end of it, as
discomfited every fibre about my father—he instantly
took out his almanack; but before he could untie it,
Toriclzs congregation coming out of church, became a
full answer to one half of his business with it—and my
mother telling him it was a sacrament day—left him as
little in doubt, as to the other part—He put his almanack
into his pocket.

The first Lord of the Treasury thinking of ways
and means, could not have returned home with a more
embarrassed look.

hi.

n194

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

©jupter }iu

UPON looking back from the end of the last
chapter, and surveying the texture of what has
been wrote, it is necessary, that upon this page
and the three following, a good quantity of hetero-
geneous matter be inserted to keep up that just
balance betwixt wisdom and folly, without which a
book would not hold together a single year: nor is it
a poor creeping digression (which but for the name of,
a man might continue as well going on in the king's

highway) which will do the business-no; if it is

to be a digression, it must be a good frisky one, and
upon a frisky subject too, where neither the horse or
his rider are to be caught, but by rebound.

The only difficulty, is raising powers suitable to the
nature of the service : Fancy is capricious—Wit must
not be searched for—and Pleasantry (good-natured
slut as she is) will not come in at a call, was an empire
to be laid at her feet.

-The best way for a man, is to say his

prayers-

Only if it puts him in mind of his infirmities and
defects as well ghostly as bodily—for that purpose, he
will find himself rather worse after he has said them
than before—for other purposes, better.

For my own part, there is not a way either moral
or mechanical under heaven that I could think of,
which I have not taken with myself in this case: some-
times 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-

-1 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,OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

and chastity: These are good, quoth I, in themselves—
they are good, absolutely ;—they are good, relatively;
—they are good for health—they are good for happi-
ness in this world—they are good for happiness in the
next-

In short, they were good for every thing but the thing
wanted; and there they were good for nothing, but to
leave the soul just as heaven made it: as for the theo-
logical virtues of faith and hope, they give it courage;
but then that snivelling virtue of Meekness (as my father
would always call it) takes it quite away again, so you
are exactly where you started.

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.

Cfcapter fiiu

NOW in ordinary cases, that is, when I am only
stupid, and the thoughts rise heavily and pass

gummous through my pen-

Or that I am got, I know not how, into a cold un-
metaphorical vein of infamous writing, and cannot take196

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 conferring with pen and ink one

moment; for if a pinch of snuff, or a stride or two
across the room will not do the business for me—I
take a razor at once; and having tried the edge of it
upon the palm of my hand, without further cere-
mony, except that of first lathering my beard, I shave
it off; taking care only if I do leave a hair, that it be
not a grey one : this done, I change my shirt—put on
a better coat—send for my last wig—put my topaz
ring upon my finger; and in a word, dress myself
from one end to the other of me, after my best
fashion.

Now the devil in hell must be in it, if this does not
do: for consider, Sir, as every man chuses to be present
at the shaving of his own beard (though there is no
rule without an exception), and unavoidably sits over-
against himself the whole time it is doing, in case he
has a hand in it—the Situation, like all others, has
notions of her own to put into the brain.-

-1 maintain it, the conceits of a rough-bearded

man, are seven years more terse and juvenile for one
single operation; and if they did not run a risk of being
quite shaved away, might be carried up by continual
shavings, to the highest pitch of sublimity—How
Homer could write with so long a beard, I don't know

-and as it makes against my hypothesis, I as little

care-But let us return to the Toilet.

Ludovicus Sorbonensis makes this entirely an affair of

the body (s^core^/xjj tfpafyg) as he calls it-but he

is deceived: the soul and body are joint-sharers in
every thing they get: A man cannot dress, but his
ideas get cloath'd at the same time; and if he dresses
like a gentleman, every one of them stands presentedOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

197

to his imagination, genteelized along with him—so that
he has nothing to do, but take his pen, and write like
himself.

For this cause, when your honours and reverences
would know whether I writ clean and fit to be read,
you will be able to judge full as well by looking into
my Laundress's bill, as my book: there was one single
month in which I can make it appear, that I dirtied
one and thirty shirts with clean writing; and after all,
was more abus'd, cursed, criticis'd, and confounded,
and had more mystic heads shaken at me, for what I
had wrote in that one month, than in all the other
months of that year put together.

-But their honours and reverences had not seen

my bills.

Chapter

AS I never had any intention of beginning the
Digression I am making all this preparation

for, till I come to the 15 th chapter-1 have

this chapter to put to whatever use I think proper-

I have twenty this moment ready for it-1 could

write my chapter of Button-holes in it-

Gr my chapter of Pishes, which should follow
them—-

Or my chapter of Knots, in case their reverences

have done with them--they might lead me into

mischief: the safest way is to follow the track of the
learned, and raise objections against what I have been
writing, tho' I declare beforehand, I know no more
than my heels how to answer them.

And first, it may be said, there is a pelting kind of198

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

thersitical satire, as black as the very ink 'tis wrote

with-{and by the bye, whoever says so, is indebted

to the muster-master general of the Grecian army, for
suffering the name of ,so ugly and foul-mouth'd a man

as Thersites to continue upon his roll-for it has

furnish'd him with an epithet)-in these productions

he will urge, all the personal washings and scrubbings

upon earth do a sinking genius no sort of good-but

just the contrary, inasmuch as the dirtier the fellow is,
the better generally he succeeds in it.

To this, I have no other answer-at least ready

--but that the Archbishop of Benevento wrote his

nasty Romance of the Galatea, as all the world knows,
in a purple coat, waistcoat, and purple pair of breeches;
and that the penance set him of writing a commentary
upon the book of the Revelations, as severe as it was
look'd upon by one part of the world, was far from
being deem'd so, by the other, upon the single account
of that Investment.

Another objection, to all this remedy, is its want of
universality; forasmuch as the shaving part of it, upon
which so much stress is laid, by an unalterable law of
nature excludes one half of the species entirely from
its use: all I can say is, that female writers, whether
of England\ or of France, must e'en go without
it-

As for the Spanish ladies-1 am in no sort of

distress-

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

199

CD&apUr

THE fifteenth chapter is come at last; and
brings nothing with it but a sad signature of
" How our pleasures slip from under us in
this world! "

For in talking of my digression-1 declare before

heaven I have made it! What a strange creature is
mortal man ! said she.

?Tis very true, said I-but 'twere better to get

all these things out of our heads, and return to my
uncle Toby.

Chapter jcton

WHEN my uncle Toby and the corporal had
marched down to the bottom of the avenue,
they recollected their business lay the other
way; so they faced about and marched up straight to
Mrs Wadman s door.

I warrant your honour; said the corporal, touching
his Montero-ca.p with his hand, as he passed him in

order to give a knock at the door-My uncle Toby,

contrary to his invariable way of treating his faithful
servant, said nothing good or bad: the truth was, he
had not altogether marshal'd his ideas; he wish'd for
another conference, and as the corporal was mounting
up the three steps before the door-—he hem'd twice—
a portion of my uncle Toby's most modest spirits fled,
at each expulsion, towards the corporal; he stood with
the rapper of the door suspended for a full minute in
his hand, he scarce knew why. Bridget stood perdue
within, with her finger and her thumb upon the latch,
benumb'd with expectation; and Mrs Wadman, with200

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

an eye ready to be deflowered again, sat breathless
behind the window-curtain of her bed-chamber, watch-
ing their approach.

Trim / said my uncle Toby-but as he articulated

the word, the minute expired, and Trim let fall the
rapper.

My uncle Toby perceiving that all hopes of a con-
ference were knock'd on the head by it-whistled

Lillabullero.

AS Mrs Bridget's finger and thumb were upon the
J~\ latch, the corporal did not knock as oft as per-
chance your honour's taylor-1 might have

taken my example something nearer home; for I owe
mine, some five and twenty pounds at least, and wonder
at the man's patience-

-But this is nothing at all to the world: only

'tis a cursed thing to be in debt; and there seems to
be a fatality in the exchequers of some poor princes,
particularly those of our house, which no Economy
can bind down in irons: for my own part, I'm per-
suaded there is not any one prince, prelate, pope, or
potentate, great or small upon earth, more desirous in
his heart of keeping straight with the world than I am

-or who takes more likely means for it. I never

give above half a guinea-or walk with boots-

or cheapen tooth-picks-or lay out a shilling upon

a band-box the year round; and -for the six months
I'm in the country, I'm upon so small a scale, that
with all the good temper in the world, I outdo Rousseau,

a bar length--for I keep neither man or boy, or

horse, or cow, or dog, or cat, or any thing that can eat
or drink, except a thin poor piece of a Vestal (to keepOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

20I

my fire in), and who has generally as bad an appetite

as myself—-but if you think this makes a philosopher

of me-1 would not, my good people! give a rush

for your judgments.

True philosophy-but there is no treating the

subject whilst my uncle is whistling Lillabullero.

-Let us go into the house.THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

CJapte* jtottj.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

C-fcap*** jtijc.204

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter pp.

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******
* *******
****** * * *
****** * * *
* * *_

-You shall see the very place, Madam; said my

uncle Toby.

Mrs Wadman blush'd-look'd towards the door

-turn'd pale-blush'd slightly again-re-

cover'd her natural colour-blush'd worse than ever;

which, for the sake of the unlearned reader, I translate
thus-

" L—d / I cannot look at it--

What would the world say if I look9d at it P
I should drop down, if I look9d at it—

/ wish I could look at it-

There can be no sin in looking at it.

-1 will look at it."

Whilst all this was running through Mrs Wadman9s
imagination, my uncle Toby had risen from the sopha,
and got to the other side of the parlour door, to give

Trim an order about it in the passage-

*********

* *--1 believe it is in the garret, said my uncle

Toby-1 saw it there, an' please your honour, this

morning, answered Trim--Then prithee, step directly

for it, Trim, said my uncle Toby, and bring it into the
parlour.

The corporal did not approve of the orders, but
most chearfully obeyed them. The first was not an
act of his will—the second was; so he put on hisOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

205

Montero-C2q>, and went as fast as his lame knee would
let him. My uncle Toby returned into the parlour,
and sat himself down again upon the sopha.

——You shall lay your finger upon the place—said

my uncle Toby.-1 will not touch it, however, quoth

Mrs Wadman to herself.

This requires a second translation:—it shews what
little knowledge is got by mere words—we must go up
to the first springs.

Now in order to clear up the mist which hangs upon
these three pages, I must endeavour to be as clear as
possible myself.

Rub your hands thrice across your foreheads—blow
your noses—cleanse your emunctories—sneeze, my
good people!-God bless you-

Now give me all the help you can.

CJapter wi.

AS there are fifty different ends (counting all ends

/"\ in-as well civil as religious) for which a

woman takes a husband, she first sets about and
carefully weighs, then separates and distinguishes in her
mind, which of all that number of ends is hers: then
by discourse, enquiry, argumentation, and inference, she
investigates and finds out whether she has got hold of

the right one-and if she has-then, by pulling it

gently this way and that way, she further forms a judg-
ment, whether it will not break in the drawing.

The imagery under which Slawkenbergius impresses
this upon the reader's fancy, in the beginning of his
third Decad, is so ludicrous, that the honour I bear

the sex, will not suffer me to quote it-otherwise it

is not destitute of humour.206

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

" She first, saith Slawkenbergius, stops the asse, and
holding his halter in her left hand (lest he should get
away) she thrusts her right hand into the very bottom
of his pannier to search for it—For what ?—you'll not
know the sooner, quoth Slawkenbergius, for interrupting
me-

" I have nothing, good Lady, but empty bottles; "
says the asse.

" I'm loaded with tripes; " says the second.

-And thou art little better, quoth she to the

third; for nothing is there in thy panniers but trunk-
hose and pantofles—and so to the fourth and fifth,
going on one by one through the whole string, till
coming to the asse which carries it, she turns the
pannier upside down, looks at it—considers it—samples
it—measures it—stretches it—wets it—dries it—then
takes her teeth both to the warp and weft of it.

-Of what ? for the love of Christ!

I am determined, answered Slawkenbergius, that all
the powers upon earth shall never wring that secret from
my breast.

C&apter jptj.

WE live in a world beset on all sides with
mysteries and riddles—and so 'tis no matter
else it seems strange, that Nature, who
makes every thing so well to answer its destination,
and seldom or never errs, unless for pastime, in giving
such forms and aptitudes to whatever passes through
her hands, that whether she designs for the plough,
the caravan, the cart—or whatever other creature she
models, be it but an asse's foal, you are sure to have
the thing you wanted; and yet at the same time should
so eternally bungle it as she does, in making so simple
a thing as a married man.OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

207

Whether it is in the choice of the clay-or that

it is frequently spoiled in the baking; by an excess of
which a husband may turn out too crusty (you know)

on one hand-or not enough so, through defect of

heat, on the other-or whether this great Artificer

is not so attentive to the little Platonic exigences of
that part of the species, for whose use she is fabricating

ih'ts-or that her Ladyship sometimes scarce knows

what sort of a husband will do I know not: we
will discourse about it after supper.

It is enough, that neither the observation itself, or

the reasoning upon it, are at all to the purpose---but

rather against it; since with regard to my uncle Toby's
fitness for the marriage state, nothing was ever better:

she had formed him of the best and kindliest clay-

had tempered it with her own milk, and breathed into

it the sweetest spirit-she had made him all gentle,

generous, and humane-she had filled his heart with

trust and confidence, and disposed every passage which
led to it, for the communication of the tenderest offices

-she had moreover considered the other causes for

which matrimony was ordained-

And accordingly ******
*********

*********
* * * *^

The donation was not defeated by my uncle Toby's
wound.

Now this last article was somewhat apocryphal; and
the Devil, who is the great disturber of our faiths in
this world, had raised scruples in Mrs Wadman's brain
about it; and like a true devil as he was, had done his
own work at the same time, by turning my uncle Toby's
Virtue thereupon into nothing but empty bottles, tripes,
trunk-hose, and pantojles.2o8

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

Chapter wiiu

MRS Bridget had pawn'd all the little stock of
honour a poor chambermaid was worth in the
world, that she would get to the bottom of the
affair in ten days; and it was built upon one of the most
concessible postulata in nature : namely, that whilst
my uncle Toby was making love to her mistress, the
corporal could find nothing better to do, than make

love to her-" And Pll let him as much as he will,

said Bridget, to get it out of him"

Friendship has two garments ; an outer and an under
one. Bridget was serving her mistress's interests in the
one—and doing the thing which most pleased herself
in the other: so had as many stakes depending upon

my uncle Toby's wound, as the Devil himself-Mrs

Wadman had but one—and as it possibly might be her
last (without discouraging Mrs Bridget, or discrediting
her talents) was determined to play her cards herself.
She wanted not encouragement: a child might have

look'd into his hand-there was such a plainness and

simplicity in his playing out what trumps he had-

with such an unmistrusting ignorance of the ten-ace

-and so naked and defenceless did he sit upon the

same sopha with widow Wadman, that a generous heart
would have wept to have won the game of him.

Let us drop the metaphor.

C&apter jcjctiu

- and the story too—if you please: for though

I have 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 hadOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

209

to offer to the world, yet now that I am got to it, any
one is welcome to take my pen, and go on with the
story for me that will—I see the difficulties of the
descriptions I'm going to give-—and feel my want of
powers.

It is one comfort at least to me, that I lost some
fourscore ounces of blood this week in a most uncritical
fever which attacked me at the beginning of this chapter;
so that I have still some hopes remaining, it may be
more in the serous or globular parts of the blood, than

in the subtile aura of the brain-be it which it will

—an Invocation can do no hurt-and I leave the

affair entirely to the invoked, to inspire or to inject me
according as he sees good.

THE INVOCATION.

GENTLE Spirit of sweetest humour, who erst did
sit upon the easy pen of my beloved Cervantes ;
Thou who glided'st daily through his lattice,
and turned'st the twilight of his prison into noon-day

brightness by thy presence-tinged'st his little urn

of water with heaven-sent nectar, and all the time he
wrote of Sancho and his master, didst cast thy mystic
mantle o'er his wither'd stump,* and wide extended it

to all the evils of his life-

-—Turn in hither, I beseech thee!-behold these

breeches!-they are all I have in the world-that

piteous rent was given them at Lyons-■

My shirts! see what a deadly schism has happen'd
amongst 'em—for the laps are in Lombardy, and the
rest of 'em here—I never had but six, and a cunning
gypsey of a laundress at Milan cut me off the fore-laps

* He lost his hand at the battle of Lepanto.
III.	o210

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

of five—To do her justice, she did it with some con-
sideration—for I was returning out of Italy.

And yet, notwithstanding all this, and a pistol tinder-
box which was moreover filch'd from me at Sienna,
and twice that I pay'd five Pauls for two hard eggs,
once at Raddicoffini, and a second time at Capua—I do
not think a journey through France and Italy ^ provided
a man keeps his temper all the way, so bad a thing as
some people would make you believe: there must be
ups and downs, or how the duce should we get into
vallies where Nature spreads so many tables of enter-
tainment.—'Tis nonsense to imagine they will lend you
their voitures to be shaken to pieces for nothing; and
unless you pay twelve sous for greasing your wheels,
how should the poor peasant get butter to his bread ?—
We really expect too much—and for the livre or two
above par for your suppers and bed—at the most they

are but one shilling and ninepence halfpenny-who

would embroil their philosophy for it ? for heaven's

and for your own sake, pay it-pay it with both

hands open, rather than leave Disappointment sitting
drooping upon the eye of your fair Hostess and her

Damsels in the gate-way, at your departure-and

besides, my dear Sir> you get a sisterly kiss of each of
'em worth a pound-at least I did-

-For my uncle Toby's amours running all the

way in my head, they had the same effect upon me as

if they had been my own-1 was in the most perfect

state of bounty and good-will; and felt the kindliest
harmony vibrating within me, with every oscillation of
the chaise alike; so that whether the roads were rough
or smooth, it made no difference; every thing I saw
or had to do with, touch'd upon some secret spring
either of sentiment or rapture.

-They were the sweetest notes I ever heard ;

and I instantly let down the fore-glass to hear themOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

211

more distinctly-'Tis Maria; said the postillion,

observing I was listening-Poor Maria, continued

he (leaning his body on one side to let me see her, for
he was in a line betwixt us), is sitting upon a bank
playing her vespers upon her pipe, with her little goat
beside her.

The young fellow utter'd this with an accent and a
look so perfectly in tune to a feeling heart, that I
instantly made a vow, I would give him a four-and-

twenty sous piece, when I got to Moulins-

-And who is poor Maria P said I.

The love and piety of all the villages around us; said

the postillion-it is but three years ago, that the sun

did not shine upon so fair, so quick-witted and amiable
a maid; and better fate did Maria deserve, than to
have her Banns forbid, by the intrigues of the curate of

the parish who published them-

He was going on, when Maria, who had made a
short pause, put the pipe to her mouth, and began the

air again-they were the same notes;-yet were

ten times sweeter: It is the evening service to the

Virgin, said the young man-but who has taught her

to play it—or how she came by her pipe, no one
knows; we think that heaven has assisted her in both ;
for ever since she has been unsettled in her mind, it

seems her only consolation-she has never once had

the pipe out of her hand, but plays that service upon it
almost night and day.

The postillion delivered this with so much discretion
and natural eloquence, that I could not help decyphering
something in his face above his condition, and should
have sifted out his history, had not poor Maria 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-212

THE LltfE AND OPINIONS

net, with a few olive leaves twisted a little fantastically,

on one side-she was beautiful; and if ever I felt

the full force of an honest heart-ache, it was the'
moment I saw her-

-God help her ! poor damsel! above a hundred

masses, said the postillion, have been said in the several

parish churches and convents around, for her,-but

without effect; we have still hopes, as she is sensible
for short intervals, that the Virgin at last will restore
her to herself; but her parents, who know her best, are
hopeless upon that score, and think her senses are lost ^
for ever.

As the postillion spoke this, Maria made a cadence
so melancholy, so tender and querulous, that I sprung
out of the chaise to help her, and found myself sitting
betwixt her and her goat before I relapsed from my
enthusiasm.

Maria look'd wistfully for some time at me, and

then at her goat-and then at me-and then at

her goat again, and so on, alternately-

-Well, Maria, said I softly-What resem-
blance do you find ?

I do entreat the candid reader to believe me, that it
was from the humblest conviction of what a Beast man

is,-that I asked the question ; and that I would

not have let fallen an unseasonable pleasantry in the
venerable presence of Misery, to be entitled to all the

wit that ever Rabelais scatter'd-and yet I own my

heart smote me, and that I so smarted at the very idea
of it, that I swore I would set up for Wisdom, and

utter grave sentences the rest of my days-and never

-never attempt again to commit mirth with man7

woman, or child, the longest day I had to live.

As for writing nonsense to them-1 believe, there

was a reserve—but that I leave to the world.

Adieu, Maria1—adieu, poor hapless damsel!-OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

213

some time, but not now, I may hear thy sorrows from

thy own lips-but I was deceived; for that moment

she took her pipe and told me such a tale of woe with
it, that I rose up, and with broken and irregular steps
walk'd softly to my chaise.

-What an excellent inn at Moulins /

Chapter wto.

WHEN we have got to the end of this chapter
(but not before) we must all turn back to
the two blank chapters, on the account of

which my honour has lain bleeding this half hour-

I stop it, by pulling off one of my yellow slippers and
throwing it with all my violence to the opposite side of

my room, with a declaration at the heel of it-

-That whatever resemblance it may bear to half

the chapters which are written in the world, or for
aught I know may be now writing in it—that it was
as casual as the foam of Zeuxis his horse; besides, I
look upon a chapter which has only nothing in it, with
respect; and considering what worse things there are

in the world-That it is no way a proper subject for

satire-

-Why then was it left so ? And here without

staying for my reply, shall I be called as many block-
heads, numsculs, doddypoles, dunderheads, ninny-
hammers, goosecaps, joltheads, nincompoops, and sh- -

t-a-beds--and other unsavoury appellations, as ever

the cake-bakers of Lerne cast in the teeth of King

Garangantan s shepherds-And I'll let them do it,

as Bridget said, as much as they please; for how was
it possible they should foresee the necessity I was under214

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

of writing the 25th chapter of my book, before the
18th, &c. ?

-So I don't take it amiss-All I wish is,

that it may be a lesson to the world, " to let people tell
their stories their own way

SC&e ©ig&teentj) Chapter*

AS Mrs Bridget opened the door before the corporal
had well given the rap, the interval betwixt
that and my uncle Toby's introduction into the
parlour, was so short, that Mrs Wadman had but just

time to get from behind the curtain-lay a Bible

upon the table, and advance a step or two towards the
door to receive him.

My uncle Toby saluted Mrs Wadman, after the
manner in which women were saluted by men in the
year of our Lord God one thousand seven hundred

and thirteen-then facing about, he march'd up

abreast with her to the sopha, and in three plain words

-though not before he was sat down-nor after

he was sat down-but as he was sitting down, told

her, "he was in love"-so that my uncle Toby strained

himself more in the declaration than he needed.

Mrs Wadman naturally looked down, upon a slit she
had been darning up in her apron, in expectation every
moment, that my uncle Toby would go on; but having
no talents for amplification, and Love moreover of all
others being a subject of which he was the least a

master-When he had told Mrs Wadman once that

he loved her, he let it alone, and left the matter to
work after its own way.

My father was always in raptures with this system
of my uncle Toby's, as he falsely called it, and wouldOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

215

often say, that could his brother Toby to his process
have added but a pipe of tobacco-he had where-
withal to have found his way, if there was faith in a
Spanish proverb, towards the hearts of half the women
upon the globe.

My uncle Toby never understood what my father
meant; nor will I presume to extract more from it,
than a condemnation of an error which the bulk of the

world lie under-but the French, every one of 'em

to a man, who believe in it, almost as much as the
real presence, " That talking of love, is making it."

-1 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 it-she took up the gauntlet-or the

discourse (if you like it better) and communed with
my uncle Toby, thus:

The cares and disquietudes of the marriage state,
quoth Mrs Wadman, are very great. I suppose so—
said my uncle Toby : and therefore when a person,
continued Mrs Wadman, is so much at his ease as you
are—so happy, captain Shandy, in yourself, your friends
and your amusements—I wonder, what reasons can in-
cline 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 children—said Mrs Wadman—though

a principal end perhaps of the institution, and the
natural wish, I suppop<% of every parent—yet do not2l6

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

we all find, they are certain sorrows, and very un-
certain comforts ? and what is there, dear sir, to pay
one for the heart-achs—what compensation for the
many tender and disquieting apprehensions of a suffer-
ing 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.

CD&apter tlje j3ttieieeut|u

NOW there are such an infinitude of notes, tunes,
cants, chants, airs, looks, and accents with
which the word fiddlestick may be pronounced
in all such causes as this, every one of 'em impressing
a sense and meaning as different from the other, as dirt
from cleanliness—That Casuists (for it is an affair of
conscience on that score) reckon up no less than four-
teen thousand in which you may do either right or
wrong.

Mrs Wadman hit upon the fiddlestick, which sum-
moned up all my uncle Tobys modest blood into his
cheeks—so feeling within himself that he had some-
how 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 wasOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

217

the siege of Jericho—he set himself to read it over-
leaving his proposal of marriage, as he had done his
declaration of love, to work with her after its own
way. Now it wrought neither as an astringent or a
loosener; nor like opium, or bark, or mercury, or
buckthorn, or any one drug which nature had bestowed
upon the world—in short, it work'd not at all in her ;
and the cause of that was, that there was something

working there before-Babbler that I am! I have

anticipated what it was a dozen times; but there is
fire still in the subject-allons.

C&apter jjjrtit.

IT is natural for a perfect stranger who is going from
London to Edinburgh, to enquire before he sets out,
how many miles to Torh ; which is about the half

way-nor 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 Drake s 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.

She had reason'd likewise from her own powers-

laid down theorems-drawn consequences, and come

to no conclusion.

To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor Slop,

* This must be a mistake in Mr Shandy; for Graaf wrote
upon the pancreatick juice, and the parts of generation.2l8

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

" 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 Wad-
man would say.

Doctor Slop was the worst man alive at definitions;
and so Mrs Wadman could get no knowledge: in
short, there was no way to extract it, but from my
uncle Toby himself.

There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of

this kind which lulls Suspicion to rest-and I am

half persuaded the serpent got pretty near it, in his
discourse with Eve; for the propensity in the sex to
be deceived could not be so great, that she should
have boldness to hold chat with the devil, without it

-But there is an accent of humanity--how shall

I describe it?—'tis an accent which covers the part
with a garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as
particular with it, as your body-surgeon.

«-Was it without remission ?—

"-Was it more tolerable in bed ?

"-Could he lie on both sides alike with it ?

"—Was he able to mount ahorse ?

"—Was motion bad for it?" et extern, were so
tenderly spoke to, and so directed towards my uncle
Toby's heart, that every item of them sunk ten times

deeper into it than the evils themselves-but when

Mrs Wadman went round about by Namur to get at
my uncle Toby's groin ; and engaged him to attack the
point of the advanced counterscarp, and pele mele with
the Dutch to take the counterguard of St Roch sword
in hand—and then with tender notes playing upon his
ear, led him all bleeding by the hand out of the trench,
wiping her eye, as he was carried to his tentOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

219

Heaven ! Earth ! Sea!—all was lifted up—the springs
of nature rose above their levels—an angel of mercy sat
besides him on the sopha—his heart glow'd with fire—
and had he been worth a thousand, he had lost every
heart of them to Mrs Wadman.

—And whereabouts, dear Sir, quoth Mrs Wadman,
a little categorically, did you receive this sad blow ?

-In asking this question, Mrs Wadman gave a

slight glance towards the waistband of my uncle Toby s
red plush breeches, expecting naturally, as the shortest
reply to it, that my uncle Toby would lay his fore-
finger upon the place-It fell out otherwise-for

my uncle Toby having got his wound before the gate
of St Nicolas, in one of the traverses of the trench
opposite to the salient angle of the demibastion of St
Roch ; he could at any time stick a pin upon the iden-
tical spot of ground where he was standing when the
stone struck him: this struck instantly upon my uncle

Toby's sensorium-and with it, struck his large map

of the town and citadel of Namur and its environs,
which he had purchased and pasted down upon a
board, by the corporal's aid, during his long illness
—:—it had lain • with other military lumber in the
garret ever since, and accordingly the corporal was
detached into the garret to fetch it.

My uncle Toby measured off thirty toises, with
Mrs Wadman s scissars, from the returning angle before
the gate of St Nicolas; and with such a virgin
modesty laid her finger upon the place, that the god-
dess of Decency, if then in being—if not, 'twas her
shade—shook her head, and with a finger wavering
across her eyes—forbid her to explain the mistake.

Unhappy Mrs Wadman /

-For nothing can make this chapter go off

with spirit but an apostrophe to thee-but my heart

tells me, that in such a crisis an apostrophe is but an220

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

insult in disguise, and ere I would offer one to a
woman in distress—let the chapter go to the devil;
provided any damn'd critic in keeping will be but at
the trouble to take it with him.

C&apter jrptotj.

MY uncle Toly's Map is carried down into the
kitchen.

C&apter pptoiu*

- AND here is the Maes — and this is the

Sambre ; said the corporal, pointing with
his right hand extended a little towards

the map and his left upon Mrs Bridget's shoulder-

but not the shoulder next him—and this, said he, is the
town of Namur—and this the citadel—and there lay

the French—and here lay his honour and myself-

and in this cursed trench, Mrs Bridget, quoth the
corporal, taking her by the hand, did he receive the

wound which crush'd him so miserably here.-In

pronouncing which, he slightly press'd the back of
her hand towards the part he felt for-and let it fall.

We thought, Mr Trim, it had been more in the
middle,-said Mrs Bridget-

That would have undone us for ever—said the
corporal.

-And left my poor mistress undone too, said

Bridget.

The corporal made no reply to the repartee, but
by giving Mrs Bridget a kiss.

Come—come—said Bridget—holding the palm ofOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

221

her left hand parallel to the plane of the horizon,
and sliding the fingers of the other over it, in a way
which could not have been done, had there been the

least wart or protuberance-'Tis every syllable of

it false, cried the corporal, before she had half

finished the sentence-

—I know it to be fact, said Bridget, from credible
witnesses.

-Upon my honour, said the corporal, laying

his hand upon his heart, and blushing, as he spoke,
with honest resentment—'tis a story, Mrs Bridget,

as false as hell-Not, said Bridget, interrupting

him, that either I or my mistress care a halfpenny

about it, whether 'tis so or no-only that when

one is married, one would 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 *****
*********

****** * * *
* * *

!»-

Chapter

IT was like the momentary contest in the moist
eye-lids of an April morning, " Whether Bridget
should laugh or cry."

She snatched up a rolling-pin-'twas ten to one,

she had laugh'd-

She laid it down-she cried; and had one

single tear of 'em but tasted of bitterness, full sorrowful
would the corporal's heart have been that he had used
the argument; but the corporal understood the sex,
a quart major to a terce at least, better than my uncle222

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

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 would'st
not wound an insect, much less the honour of so
gallant and worthy a soul as my master, wast thou

sure to be made a countess of-but thou hast

been set on, and deluded, dear Bridget, as is often a
woman's case, "to please others more than them-
selves-"

Bridget's eyes poured down at the sensations the
corporal excited.

-Tell me-tell me, then, my dear Bridget,

continued the corporal, taking hold of her hand,

which hung down dead by her side,--and giving a

second kiss-whose suspicion has misled thee ?

Bridget sobb'd a sob or two-then open'd her

eyes-the corporal wiped 'em with the bottom of

her apron-she then open'd her heart and told

him all.

Chapter jwu

MY uncle Toby and the corporal had gone on
separately with their operations the greatest
part of the campaign, and as effectually cut off
from all communication of what either the one or the
other had been doing, as if they had been separated
from each other by the Maes or the Sambre.

My uncle Toby, on his side, had presented himself
every afternoon in his red and silver, and blue and
gold alternately, and sustained an infinity of attacks inOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

223

them, without knowing them to be attacks—and so

had nothing to communicate-

The corporal, on his side, in taking Bridget, by it
had gain'd considerable advantages-and conse-
quently had much to communicate-but what were

the advantages-as well as what was the manner

by which he had seiz'd them, required so nice an
historian, that the corporal durst not venture upon it;
and as sensible as he was of glory, would rather have
been contented to have gone bareheaded and without
laurels for ever, than torture his master's modesty for a

single moment-—

-Best of honest and gallant servants !-But I

have apostrophized thee, Trim / "once before-and

could I apotheosize thee also (that is to say) with good

company-1 would do it without ceremony in the very

next page.

Chapter wpt.

NOW my uncle Toby had one evening laid down
his pipe upon the table, and was counting over
to himself upon his finger ends (beginning at
his thumb) all Mrs Wadman?s perfections one by one;
and happening two or three times together, either by
omitting some, or counting others twice over, to puzzle
himself sadly before he could get beyond his middle

finger-Prithee, Trim / said he, taking up his pipe

again,-bring me a pen and ink : Trim brought paper

also.

Take a full sheet-Trim! said my uncle Toby,

making a sign with his pipe at the same time to take a
chair and sit down close by him at the table. The

corporal obeyed-placed the paper directly before

him-—took a pen, and dipp'd it in the ink.224

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

—She has a thousand virtues, Trim / said my uncle
Toby-

Am I to set them down, an' please your honour ?
quoth the corporal.

-But they must be taken in their ranks, replied

my uncle Toby ; for of them all, Trim, that which wins
me most, and which is a security for all the rest, is
the compassionate turn and singular humanity of her
character—I protest, added my uncle Toby, looking
up, as he protested it, towards the top of the

cieling-That was I her brother, Trim, a thousand

fold, she could not make more constant or more

tender enquiries after my sufferings-though now

no more.

The corporal made no reply to my uncle Toby's
protestation, but by a short cough—he dipp'd the pen
a second time into the inkhorn; and my uncle Toby,
pointing with the end of his pipe as close to the top
of the sheet at the left hand corner of it, as he could get

it-the corporal wrote down the word

HUMANITY----thus.

Prithee, corporal, said my uncle Toby, as soon as

Trim had done it-how often does Mrs Bridget

enquire after the wound on the cap of thy knee, which
thou received'st at the battle of Landen P

She never, an' please your honour, enquires after it
at all.

That, corporal, said my uncle Toby, with all the

triumph the goodness of his nature would permit-

That shews the difference in the character of the

mistress and maid-had the fortune of war allotted

the same mischance to me, Mrs Wadman would have
enquired into every circumstance relating to it a hundred

times-She would have enquired, an' please your

honour, ten times as often about your honour's groin
-The pain, Trim, is equally excruciating,-andOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

225

Compassion has as much to do with the one as the
other-

-God bless your honour ! cried the corporal-

what has a woman's compassion to do with a wound
upon the cap of a man's knee ? had your honour's been
shot into ten thousand splinters at the affair of Landen,
Mrs Wadman would have troubled her head as little
about it as Bridget; because, added the corporal,
lowering his voice, and speaking very distinctly, as he

assigned his reason-

"The knee is such a distance from the main body

-whereas the groin, your honour knows, is upon

the very curtain of the place "

My uncle Toby gave a long whistle-but in a note

which could scarce be heard across the table.

The corporal had advanced too far to retire-in

three words he told the rest-

My uncle Toby laid down his pipe as gently upon
the fender, as if it had been spun from the unravellings

of a spider's web-

-Let us go to my brother Shandy9s, said he.

Cfcapter nviu

THERE will be just time, whilst my uncle Toby
and Trim are walking to my father's, to inform
you that Mrs Wadman had, some moons before
this, made a confident of my mother; and that Mrs
Bridget, who had the burden of her own, as well as
her mistress's secret to carry, had got happily delivered
of both to Susannah behind the garden-wall.

As for my mother, she saw nothing at all in it,

to make the least bustle about-but Susannah was

sufficient by herself for all the ends and purposes you
hi.	p226

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

could possibly have, in exporting a family secret; for

she instantly imparted it by signs to Jonathan-and

Jonathan by tokens to the cook as she was basting a
loin of mutton ; the cook sold it with some kitchen-fat
to the postillion for a groat, who truck'd it with the

dairy maid for something of about the same value-

and though whisper'd in the hay-loft, Fame caught the
notes with her brazen trumpet, and sounded them upon
the house-top—In a word, not an old woman in the
village or five miles round, who did not understand
the difficulties of my uncle Toby's siege, and what
were the secret articles which had delayed the sur-
render.-

My father, whose way was to force every event in
nature into an hypothesis, by which means never man

crucified Truth at the rate he did-had but just

heard of the report as my uncle Toby set out; and
catching fire suddenly at the trespass done his brother
by it, was demonstrating to Torick, notwithstanding

my mother was sitting by-not only, "That the

devil was in women, and that the whole of the affair
was lust;" but that every evil and disorder in the
world, of what kind or nature soever, from the first
fall of Adam, down to my uncle Toby9s (inclusive), was
owing one way or other to the same unruly appetite.

Torick was just bringing my father's hypothesis to
some temper, when my uncle Toby entering the room
with marks of infinite benevolence and forgiveness in
his looks, my father's eloquence rekindled against the

passion-and as he was not very nice in the choice

of his words when he was wroth-as soon as my

uncle Toby was seated by the fire, and had filled his
pipe, my father broke out in this manner.

OF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

227

Chapter jcf^ttj*

-npHAT provision should be made for con-

J[ tinuing the race of so great, so exalted and
godlike a Being as man—I am far from
denying—but philosophy speaks freely of every thing 5
and therefore I still think and do maintain it to be a
pity, that it should be done by means of a passion
which bends down the faculties, and turns all the
wisdom, contemplations, and operations of the soul

backwards-a passion, my dear, continued my father,

addressing himself to my mother, which couples and
equals wise men with fools, and makes us come out of
our caverns and hiding-places more like satyrs and four-
footed beasts than men.

I know it will be said, continued my father (availing
himself of the Prolepsis), that in itself, and simply taken

-like hunger, or thirst, or sleep-'tis an affair

neither good or bad—or shameful or otherwise.-

Why then did.the delicacy of Diogenes and Plato so
recalcitrate against it ? and wherefore, when we go
about to make and plant a man, do we put out the
candle? and for what reason is it, that all the parts
thereof—the congredients—the preparations—the in-
struments, and whatever serves thereto, are so held as
to be conveyed to a cleanly mind by no language,
translation, or periphrasis whatever ?

-The act of killing and destroying a man,

continued my father, raising his voice—and turning to
my uncle Toby—you see, is glorious—and the weapons

by which we do it are honourable-We march

with them upon our shoulders-We strut with them

by our sides-We gild them—;—We carve them

-We in-lay them-We enrich them-Nay,

if it be but a scoundrel cannon, we cast an ornament
upon the breach of it.—228

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS

-My uncle Toby laid down his pipe to intercede

for a better epithet-and Torick 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 imme-
diate hearing.

The case was this :

My father, whether by ancient custom of the manor,
or as impropriator of the great tythes, was obliged to
keep a Bull for the service of the Parish, and Obadiah
had led his cow upon a pop-visit to him one day or

other the preceding summer-1 say, one day or

other—because as chance would have it, it was the
day on which he was married to my father's house-
maid-so one was a reckoning to the other. There-
fore when Obadiah's wife was brought to bed—

Obadiah thanked God-

-Now, said Obadiah, I shall have a calf: so

Obadiah went daily to visit his cow.

She'll calve on Monday—on Tuesday—on Wednes-
day at the farthest-

The cow did not calve-no—she'll not calve

till next week-the cow put it off terribly--till

at the end of the sixth week Obadiah's suspicions (like
a good man's) fell upon the Bull.

Now the parish being very large, my father's Bull,
to speak the truth of him, was no way equal to the
department; he had, however, got himself, somehow
or other, thrust into employment—and as he went
through the business with a grave face, my father had a
high opinion oi him.

-Most of the townsmen, an' please your worship,

quoth Obadiah, believe that 'tis all the Bull's fault-

-But may not a cow be barren? replied my

father, turning to Doctor Slop.

It never happens: said Dr Slrp, but the man's wifeOF TRISTRAM SHANDY.

229

may have come before her time naturally enough-

Prithee has the child hair upon his head ?—added Dr
Slop-

-It is as hairy as I am; said Obadiah.--

Obadiah had not been shaved for three weeks-

Wheu - -u----u--------cried my father ;

beginning the sentence with an exclamatory whistle

-and so, brother Toby, this poor Bull of mine, who

is as good a Bull as ever p—ss'd, and might have done

for Europa herself in purer times-had he but two

legs less, might have been driven into Doctors Commons

and lost his character--which to a Town Bull,

brother Toby, is the very same thing as his life-

L—d! said my mother, what is all this story
about ?-

A cock and a bull, said Torick-And one of the

best of its kind, I ever heard.

THE END.printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON <$r CO.
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