I am not insensible, brother _Shandy_, that when a man whose profession is arms, wishes, as I have done, for war, --it has an ill aspect to the world; ----and that, how just and right soever his motives and intentions may be, --he stands in an uneasy posture in vindicating himself from private views in doing it.
For this cause, if a soldier is a prudent man, which he may be without being a jot the less brave, he will be sure not to utter his wish in the hearing of an enemy; for say what he will, an enemy will not believe him. ----He will be cautious of doing it even to a friend, --lest he may suffer in his esteem: ----But if his heart is overcharged, and a secret sigh for arms must have its vent, he will reserve it for the ear of a brother, who knows his character to the bottom, and what his true notions, dispositions, and principles of honour are: What, I _hope_, I have been in all these, brother _Shandy_, would be unbecoming in me to say: ----much worse, I know, have I been than I ought, --and something worse, perhaps, than I think: But such as I am, you, my dear brother _Shandy_, who have sucked the same breasts with me, --and with whom I have been brought up from my cradle, --and from whose knowledge, from the first hours of our boyish pastimes, down to this, I have concealed no one action of my life, and scarce a thought in it ----Such as I am, brother, you must by this time know me, with all my vices, and with all my weaknesses too, whether of my age, my temper, my passions, or my understanding.
Tell me then, my dear brother _Shandy_, upon which of them it is, that when I condemned the peace of _Utrecht_, and grieved the war was not carried on with vigour a little longer, you should think your brother did it upon unworthy views; or that in wishing for war, he should be bad enough to wish more of his fellow-creatures slain, --more slaves made, and more families driven from their peaceful habitations, merely for his own pleasure: ----Tell me, brother _Shandy_, upon what one deed of mine do you ground it? [_The devil a deed do I know of, dear _Toby_, but one for a hundred pounds, which I lent thee to carry on these cursed sieges._]
If, when I was a school-boy, I could not hear a drum beat, but my heart beat with it--was it my fault? Did I plant the propensity there? ----Did I sound the alarm within, or Nature?

I am aware, brother Shandy, that when a military man wishes, as I have done, for war, it has a bad appearance; and that, no matter how just his motives may be, he stands in an uneasy position in vindicating himself.
Therefore, if a soldier is prudent, which he may be without being a jot the less brave, he will not utter his wish in the hearing of an enemy; for 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, and what his true principles of honour are: what I hope mine are, brother Shandy, would be unbecoming in me to say - I have been much worse, I know, than I ought, and somewhat worse, perhaps, than I think.
But such as I am, you, my dear brother, who sucked the same breast as me, and with whom I have been brought up from my cradle, and from whom I have concealed no action of my life - such as I am, you must by this time know me, with all my vices and weaknesses of age, temper and understanding.
Tell me then, my dear brother Shandy, which of them was at fault when I condemned the peace of Utrecht, and grieved that the war was not carried on a little longer? Did you think it unworthy of your brother, that in wishing for war, he should wish for more of his fellow-creatures to be slain, or driven from their peaceful habitations, merely for his own pleasure? Tell me, brother Shandy, upon what deed of mine do you base it? [The devil a deed do I know of, dear Toby - wrote my father - except 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, without my heart beating with it - was it my fault, or Nature's?
