I would not give a groat for that man's knowledge in pencraft, who does not understand this, ----That the best plain narrative in the world, tacked very close to the last spirited apostrophe to my uncle _Toby_----would have felt both cold and vapid upon the reader's palate; --therefore I forthwith put an end to the chapter, though I was in the middle of my story.
------Writers of my stamp have one principle in common with painters. Where an exact copying makes our pictures less striking, we choose the less evil; deeming it even more pardonable to trespass against truth, than beauty. This is to be understood _cum grano salis_; but be it as it will, --as the parallel is made more for the sake of letting the apostrophe cool, than any thing else, --'tis not very material whether upon any other score the reader approves of it or not.
In the latter end of the third year, my uncle _Toby_ perceiving that the parameter and semiparameter of the conic section angered his wound, he left off the study of projectiles in a kind of a huff, and betook himself to the practical part of fortification only; the pleasure of which, like a spring held back, returned upon him with redoubled force.
It was in this year that my uncle began to break in upon the daily regularity of a clean shirt, ----to dismiss his barber unshaven, ----and to allow his surgeon scarce time sufficient to dress his wound, concerning himself so little about it, as not to ask him once in seven times dressing, how it went on: when, lo! --all of a sudden, for the change was quick as lightning, he began to sigh heavily for his recovery, ----complained to my father, grew impatient with the surgeon: ----and one morning, as he heard his foot coming up stairs, he shut up his books, and thrust aside his instruments, in order to expostulate with him upon the protraction of the cure, which, he told him, might surely have been accomplished at least by that time: --He dwelt long upon the miseries he had undergone, and the sorrows of his four years melancholy imprisonment; --adding, that had it not been for the kind looks and fraternal chearings of the best of brothers, --he had long since sunk under his misfortunes. ----My father was by: My uncle _Toby's_ eloquence brought tears into his eyes; ----'twas unexpected: ----My uncle _Toby_, by nature was not eloquent; --it had the greater effect: ----The surgeon was confounded; ----not that there wanted grounds for such, or greater marks of impatience, --but 'twas unexpected too; in the four years he had attended him, he had never seen anything like it in my uncle _Toby's_ carriage; he had never once dropped one fretful or discontented word; ----he had been all patience, --all submission.
--We lose the right of complaining sometimes by forbearing it; --but we often treble the force: --The surgeon was astonished; but much more so, when he heard my uncle _Toby_ go on, and peremptorily insist upon his healing up the wound directly, --or sending for Monsieur _Ronjat_, the king's serjeant-surgeon, to do it for him.
The desire of life and health is implanted in man's nature; ----the love of liberty and enlargement is a sister-passion to it: These my uncle _Toby_ had in common with his species; ----and either of them had been sufficient to account for his earnest desire to get well and out of doors; ----but I have told you before, that nothing wrought with our family after the common way; ----and from the time and manner in which this eager desire shewed itself in the present case, the penetrating reader will suspect there was some other cause or crotchet for it in my uncle _Toby's_ head: ----There was so, and 'tis the subject of the next chapter to set forth what that cause and crotchet was. I own, when that's done, 'twill be time to return back to the parlour fire-side, where we left my uncle _Toby_ in the middle of his sentence.
Any writer understands this, - that the best narrative in the world, tacked too close to the last spirited appeal to my uncle Toby, would have felt cold and vapid; therefore I ended the chapter, though I was in the middle of my story.
Writers of my stamp have one principle in common with painters. Where exact copying makes our pictures less striking, we think it more pardonable to trespass against truth, than beauty. This is to be understood with a grain of salt; but as the parallel is made more for the sake of letting the last chapter cool, than anything else, it does not matter greatly whether the reader approves of it or not.
In the latter end of the third year, my uncle Toby, seeing that the parameter and semiparameter of the conic section angered his wound, left off the study of projectiles in a kind of a huff, and kept to the practical part of fortification only; the pleasure of which, like a spring held back, returned upon him with redoubled force.
It was in this year that my uncle began to cease to wear a clean shirt daily, - to dismiss his barber unshaven, and to allow his surgeon scarce time enough to dress his wound: lo! all of a sudden, he began to sigh heavily for his recovery, - complained to my father, and grew impatient with the surgeon. One morning, as he heard him coming up stairs, he shut his books, in order to expostulate with him. He dwelt long upon the miseries he had undergone in the last four melancholy years; - adding, that had it not been for his brother's kindness, he would have sunk under his misfortunes.
My father was nearby: my uncle Toby's unexpected eloquence brought tears into his eyes. The surgeon was confounded; in the four years he had attended him, my uncle Toby had never dropped one fretful word; - he had been all submission. So the surgeon was astonished when he heard my uncle peremptorily insist upon his healing the wound directly, or sending for the king's surgeon to do it for him.
Mu uncle Toby had a desire of life and health in common with his species; but I have told you before, that nothing affected our family the common way; and from the manner in which this eager desire now showed itself, the penetrating reader will suspect there was some other cause for it in my uncle's head.
'Tis the subject of the next chapter to set forth what that cause was. When that's done, 'twill be time to return to the parlour fire-side, where we left my uncle Toby in the middle of his sentence.
Book 2 - Chapter 4