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_.

Tell it - provided it is not a merry one; for I am not in a mood at present to do it justice.'
'It is not merry by any means,' replied the corporal.
'Nor would I have it altogether grave,' added my uncle Toby.
'It is neither one nor the other,' replied the corporal, 'but will suit your honour exactly.'
'I thank thee; prithee begin it, Trim,' cried my uncle Toby.


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.

The corporal made his bow; and though it is not easy to pull off a lank Montero-cap with grace - nor to make a bow so teeming with respect when a man is sitting squat upon the ground; yet by allowing the palm of his right hand to slip backwards upon the grass - and with his left hand, squeezing rather than pulling off his cap - the corporal acquitted himself well; and having cleared his throat, he set off thus.


THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES


There was a certain king of Bo - - he------


As the corporal was entering the confines of _Bohemia_, my uncle _Toby_ obliged him to halt for a single moment; he had set out 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_-cap with the end of his cane, interrogatively----as much as to say, Why don't you put it on, _Trim?_ _Trim_ took it up with 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 moralise upon the subject.

My uncle Toby obliged the corporal to halt, by touching the Montero-cap on the ground with the end of his cane - as much as to say, 'Why don't you put it on, Trim?'
Trim took it up with respectful slowness, and casting a humiliated glance upon the embroidery of the front, which was dismally tarnished and frayed, he laid it down again between his two feet, to moralise upon the subject.


----'Tis every word of it but too true, cried my uncle _Toby_, that thou art about to observe----
"_Nothing in this world, Trim, is made to last for ever._"

'Thou art about to observe,' cried my uncle Toby, '-that nothing in this world is made to last for ever.'


----But when tokens, dear _Tom_, of thy love and remembrance wear out, said _Trim_, what shall we say?

'But when tokens of my dear brother's love and remembrance wear out,' said Trim, 'what shall we say?'


There is no occasion, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, to say anything else; and was a man to puzzle his brains till Doom's day, I believe, _Trim_, it would be impossible.

'There is no need to say anything else,' quoth my uncle Toby.


The corporal, perceiving my uncle _Toby_ was in the right, and that it would be in vain for the wit of man to think of extracting a purer moral from his cap, without further attempting it, he put it on; and passing his hand across his forehead to rub out a pensive wrinkle, which the text and the doctrine between them had engender'd, he return'd, with the same look and tone of voice, to his story of the king of _Bohemia_ and his seven castles.

The corporal, perceiving that it would be in vain for the wit of man to extract a purer moral from his cap, put it on, and returned to his story.


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----

'There was a certain king of Bohemia, but in whose reign, I am not able to inform your honour-'


I do not desire it of thee, _Trim_, by any means, cried my uncle _Toby_.

'I do not desire it, Trim,' cried my uncle Toby.


----It was a little before the time, an' please your honour, when giants were beginning to leave off breeding: --but in what year of our Lord that was----

'It was a little before the time when giants were beginning to leave off breeding: but in what year that was-'


I would not give a halfpenny to know, said my uncle _Toby_.

'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----

'Only, your honour, it makes a story look better-'


----'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----

''Tis thy own, Trim, so take any date thou choosest, and welcome,' said my uncle Toby pleasantly.


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 of Christ, and from thence to the very moment in which the corporal was telling his story----had my uncle _Toby_ subjected this vast empire of time and all its abysses at his feet; but as MODESTY scarce touches with a finger what LIBERALITY offers her with both hands open--the corporal contented himself with the very _worst year_ of the whole bunch; which, to prevent your honours of the Majority and Minority from tearing the very flesh off your bones in contestation, 'Whether that year is not always the last cast-year of the last cast-almanack' ----I tell you plainly it was; but from a different reason than you wot of----
----It was the year next him----which being, the year of our Lord seventeen hundred and twelve, when the Duke of _Ormond_ was playing the devil in _Flanders_----the corporal took it, and set out with it afresh on his expedition to _Bohemia_.

The corporal bowed; for of every century, from the first creation of the world down to Noah's flood; and through all the Dynasties, Olympiads, and other memorable epochs of the world, down to the coming of Christ, and from thence to the very moment in which the corporal was telling his story - my uncle Toby laid 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 open hands - the corporal contented himself with the very worst year of the whole bunch.
To prevent your honours from tearing the flesh off your bones in argument, I tell you plainly it was the year 1712, 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.


In the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and twelve, there was, an' please your honour----

'In the year of our Lord 1712, 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----

'To tell thee truly, Trim,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'any other date would have pleased me better, not only on account of the sad stain upon our history that year, in marching our troops away from the siege of Quesnoi - but also on the score of thy own story, Trim; because if there are in fact giants in it-'


There is but one, an' please your honour----


----'Tis as bad as twenty, replied my uncle _Toby_----thou should'st have carried him back some seven or eight hundred years out of harm's way, both of critics and other people: and therefore I would advise thee, if ever thou tellest it again----

''Tis as bad as twenty,' replied my uncle Toby; 'thou should'st have carried him back some seven or eight hundred years, out of harm's way of critics. 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!

'If I but once get through it, I will never tell it again,' quoth Trim.
'Poo, poo!'


said my uncle _Toby_--but with accents of such sweet encouragement did he utter it, that the corporal went on with his story with more alacrity than ever.

said my uncle Toby; but with accents of such sweet encouragement that the corporal went on with alacrity.


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_----

'There was, an' please your honour,' said the corporal, raising his voice, '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!

'Leave out the date entirely, Trim,' quoth my uncle, gently laying his hand upon the corporal's shoulder. 'A story passes very well without these niceties.


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!

It is not easy for a soldier like us, Trim, to see further than the end of his musket.'
'God bless your honour!'


said the corporal, won by the _manner_ of my uncle _Toby's_ reasoning, as much as by the reasoning itself, he has something else to do; if not on action, or a march, or upon duty in his garrison--he has his firelock, an' please your honour, to furbish--his accoutrements to take care of--his regimentals to mend--himself to shave and keep clean, so as to appear always like what he is upon the parade; what business, added the corporal triumphantly, has a soldier, an' please your honour, to know anything at all of _geography?_

said the corporal; 'a soldier has something else to do; if not in action, or on a march, or on duty - he has his firelock to furbish - his regimentals to mend - himself to shave and keep clean: what business has a soldier to know anything of geography?'


----Thou would'st have said _chronology_, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_; for as for geography, 'tis of absolute use to him; he must be acquainted intimately with every country and its boundaries where his profession carries him; he should know every town and city, and village and hamlet, with the canals, the roads, and hollow ways which lead up to them; there is not a river or a rivulet he passes, _Trim_, but he should be able at first sight to tell thee what is its name--in what mountains it takes its rise--what is its course--how far it is navigable--where fordable--where not; he should know the fertility of every valley, as well as the hind who ploughs it; and be able to describe, or, if it is required, to give thee an exact map of all the plains and defiles, the forts, the acclivities, the woods and morasses, thro' and by which his army is to march; he should know their produce, their plants, their minerals, their waters, their animals, their seasons, their climates, their heats and cold, their inhabitants, their customs, their language, their policy, and even their religion.

'Thou shouldst say chronology, Trim,' said my uncle; 'for geography is of great use to him; he must be acquainted intimately with every country; he should know every town and village, its canals, its roads and rivers - how far they are navigable, and where fordable; he should be able to give an exact map of all the plains, forts, woods and swamps through which his army is to march; he should know their produce, their plants, their minerals, their waters, their animals, their seasons, their climates, their inhabitants, their customs, their language, their policy, and even their religion.


Is it else to be conceived, corporal, continued my uncle _Toby_, rising up in his sentry-box, as he began to warm in this part of his discourse--how _Marlborough_ could have marched his army from the banks of the _Maes_ to _Belburg_; from _Belburg_ to _Kerpenord_--(here the corporal could sit no longer) from _Kerpenord_, _Trim_, to _Kalsaken_; from _Kalsaken_ to _Newdorf_; from _Newdorf_ to _Landenbourg_; from _Landenbourg_ to _Mildenheim_; from _Mildenheim_ to _Elchingen_; from _Elchingen_ to _Gingen_; from _Gingen_ to _Balmerchoffen_; from _Balmerchoffen_ to _Skellenburg_, where he broke in upon the enemy's works; forced his passage over the _Danube_; cross'd the _Lech_--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?_ ----Great as he was, corporal, he could not have advanced a step, or made one single day's march without the aids of _Geography_.

'For how else,' continued my uncle Toby, rising up in his sentry-box - 'how else could Marlborough have marched his army from the Maes to Belburg; then to Newdorf and Landenbourg; from thence to Balmerchoffen; and to Skellenburg, where he broke in upon the enemy's works; forced his passage over the Danube; crossed the Lech - pushed on his troops into the heart of the empire, to the plains of Blenheim? Great as he was, he could not have advanced a step, 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 everything like thunder before it, has become a new ra 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.

'As for Chronology, I own, Trim,' continued my uncle Toby, sitting down again, 'that it seems the science which the soldier might best spare, was it not for the invention of gunpowder; which has opened a new era of military improvements, changing so totally the nature of attacks and defences, that the world cannot be too inquisitive in knowing what great man was its discoverer.


I am far from controverting, continued my uncle _Toby_, what historians agree in, that in the year of our Lord 1380, under the reign of _Wencelaus_, son of _Charles_ the Fourth----a certain priest, whose name was _Schwartz_, show'd the use of powder to the _Venetians_, in their wars against the _Genoese_; but 'tis certain he was not the first; because if we are to believe Don _Pedro_, the bishop of _Leon_ --How came priests and bishops, an' please your honour, to trouble their heads so much about gunpowder?

'I am far from disputing,' continued my uncle, 'what historians agree, that in the year 1380 a certain priest called Schwartz showed the use of gunpowder 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, your honour, to trouble their heads so much about gunpowder?'


God knows, said my uncle _Toby_----his providence brings good out of everything--and he avers, in his chronicle of King _Alphonsus_, who reduced _Toledo_, That in the year 1343, which was full thirty-seven years before that time, the secret of powder was well known, and employed with success, both by Moors and Christians, not only in their sea-combats, at that period, but in many of their most memorable sieges in _Spain_ and _Barbary_ --And all the world knows, that Friar _Bacon_ had wrote expressly about it, and had generously given the world a receipt to make it by, above a hundred and fifty years before even _Schwartz_ was born --And that the _Chinese_, added my uncle _Toby_, embarrass us, and all accounts of it, still more, by boasting of the invention some hundreds of years even before him----

'God knows,' said my uncle Toby; '-He avers, in his chronicle of King Alphonsus, that in 1343 the secret of gunpowder was well known, and used with success, both by Moors and Christians, in their sea-combats, and their most memorable sieges in Spain and Barbary. - And all the world knows that Friar Bacon had wrote about it, a hundred and fifty years before Schwartz was born. - And that the Chinese,' added my uncle, 'embarrass us still more, by boasting of the invention 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 foss with a brick wall without flanks--and for what they gave us as a bastion at each angle of it, 'tis so barbarously constructed, that it looks for all the world ------------Like one of my seven castles, an' please your honour, quoth _Trim_.

'They are deceived in this matter,' said my uncle Toby, 'as is plain from the present miserable state of military architecture amongst them; which consists of nothing more than a foss with a brick wall without flanks - and with a supposed bastion at each, so barbarously constructed, that it looks for all the world-'
'Like one of my seven castles, 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 gunpowder----and begged the corporal forthwith to go on with his story of the King of _Bohemia_ and his seven castles.

My uncle Toby, though needing 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 touched with the corporal's kindness that he stopped his speech upon gunpowder, and begged him to go on with his story.


THE STORY OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA AND HIS SEVEN CASTLES, CONTINUED


This _unfortunate_ King of _Bohemia_, said _Trim_, ----Was he unfortunate, then?

'This unfortunate King of Bohemia-' said Trim.
'Was he unfortunate, then?'


cried my uncle _Toby_, for he had been so wrapt up in his dissertation upon gunpowder, and other military affairs, that tho' he had desired the corporal to go on, yet the many interruptions he had given, dwelt not so strong upon his fancy as to account for the epithet ----Was he _unfortunate_, then, _Trim?_ said my uncle _Toby_, pathetically ----The corporal, wishing first the _word_ and all its synonimas at the devil, forthwith began to run back in his mind, the principal events in the King of _Bohemia's_ story; from every one of which, it appearing that he was the most fortunate man that ever existed in the world----it put the corporal to a stand: for not caring to retract his epithet----and less to explain it----and least of all, to twist his tale (like men of lore) to serve a system----he looked up in my uncle _Toby's_ face for assistance----but seeing it was the very thing my uncle _Toby_ sat in expectation of himself----after a hum and a haw, he went on------

cried my uncle Toby.
The corporal, wishing the word at the devil, began to run back in his mind the principal events in the King of Bohemia's story; from which it appeared that he was the most fortunate man in the world. It stopped the corporal in his tracks: for not caring to retract the phrase - still less to explain it - and least of all, to twist his tale - he looked in my uncle Toby's face for help, but seeing my uncle Toby awaiting help 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 seaport town whatever----

'The King of Bohemia,' said the corporal, 'was unfortunate in this - that taking great pleasure in navigation and all sort of sea affairs - and there happening throughout the whole kingdom of Bohemia to be no seaport town whatever-'


How the duce should there--_Trim?_ cried my uncle _Toby_; for _Bohemia_ being totally inland, it could have happen'd no otherwise ----It might, said _Trim_, if it had pleased God----

'How the deuce should there be, Trim?' cried my uncle Toby; 'for Bohemia being totally inland, it could have happened no otherwise.'
'There might be,' said Trim, 'if it had pleased God.'


My uncle _Toby_ never spoke of the being and natural attributes of God, but with diffidence and hesitation----

My uncle Toby never spoke of God without diffidence.


----I believe not, replied my uncle _Toby_, after some pause----for being inland, as I said, and having _Silesia_ and _Moravia_ to the east; _Lusatia_ and _Upper Saxony_ to the north; _Franconia_ to the west; _Bavaria_ to the south; _Bohemia_ could not have been propell'd to the sea without ceasing to be _Bohemia_----nor could the sea, on the other hand, have come up to _Bohemia_, without overflowing a great part of _Germany_, and destroying millions of unfortunate inhabitants who could make no defence against it ----Scandalous!

'I believe not,' he replied, after a pause; 'for having Silesia and Moravia to the east; Lusatia and Upper Saxony to the north; Franconia to the west, and Bavaria to the south, Bohemia could not have been propelled to the sea without ceasing to be Bohemia. Nor could the sea have come up to Bohemia, without overflowing a great part of Germany, and destroying millions of defenceless inhabitants.


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.

Which would mean such a lack of compassion in him who caused it - that I think, Trim, the thing could in no way happen.'


The corporal made the bow of unfeigned conviction; and went on.

The corporal made the bow of conviction; and went on.


Now the King of _Bohemia_ with his queen and courtiers _happening_ one fine summer's evening to walk out ----Aye!

'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.

there the word happening is right, Trim,' cried my uncle Toby; 'for the King of Bohemia and his queen might have walked out or not: - 'twas a matter of chance.'


King _William_ was of an opinion, an' please your honour, quoth _Trim_, that everything was predestined for us in this world; insomuch, that he would often say to his soldiers, that "every ball had its billet."

'King William was of the opinion, your honour,' quoth Trim, 'that everything was predestined for us in this world; so that he would often say to his soldiers, that "every bullet 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_.

'He was a great man,' said my uncle Toby.
'And I believe,' continued Trim, 'that the shot which disabled me at the battle of Landen, was pointed at my knee for no other purpose, but to place me in your honour's service, where I should be taken so much better care of in my old age.'
'So I believe too, Trim,' said my uncle Toby.


The heart, both of the master and the man, were alike subject to sudden overflowings; ----a short silence ensued.

Both hearts were full of 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------

'Besides,' resumed the corporal more cheerfully, 'if it had not been for that single shot, I would never have been in love.'


So, thou wast once in love, _Trim!_ said my uncle _Toby_, smiling----

'So, thou wast once in love, Trim!' said my uncle Toby, smiling.


replied the corporal--over head and ears!


----I never heard one word of it before; quoth my uncle _Toby_: ----I 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_.

I never heard one word of it before,' quoth my uncle.
'I dare say,' answered Trim, 'that every drummer in the regiment knew of it.'
'Then it's high time I did,' said my uncle Toby.


Your honour remembers with concern, said the corporal, the total rout and confusion of our camp and army at the affair of _Landen_; every one was left to shift for himself; and if it had not been for the regiments of _Wyndham_, _Lumley_, and _Galway_, which covered the retreat over the bridge of _Neerspeeken_, the king himself could scarce have gained it----he was press'd hard, as your honour knows, on every side of him----

'Your honour remembers the total rout and confusion of our army at Landen; everyone was left to shift for himself; and if it had not been for the regiments of Wyndham, Lumley, and Galway, which covered the retreat, the king himself could scarce have gained it - he was pressed hard, as your honour knows-'


cried my uncle _Toby_, caught up with enthusiasm--this moment, now that all is lost, I see him galloping across me, corporal, to the left, to bring up the remains of the English horse along with him to support the right, and tear the laurel from _Luxembourg's_ brows, if yet 'tis possible ----I see him with the knot of his scarfe just shot off, infusing fresh spirits into poor _Galway's_ regiment--riding along the line--then wheeling about, and charging _Conti_ at the head of it ----Brave!

cried my uncle Toby, with enthusiasm - 'I see him galloping to bring up the remains of the English cavalry, and tear the laurel from Luxembourg's brows - I see him riding along the line - then wheeling about, and charging Conti at the head of it - Brave!


cried my uncle _Toby_--he deserves a crown ----As richly, as a thief a halter; shouted _Trim_.

He deserves a crown.'
'As richly, as a thief a halter,' shouted Trim.


My uncle _Toby_ knew the corporal's loyalty; --otherwise the comparison was not at all to his mind----it did not altogether strike the corporal's fancy when he had made it----but it could not be recall'd----so he had nothing to do, but proceed.

My uncle Toby knew the corporal's loyalty; - otherwise the comparison was not at all to his liking. The corporal regretted it, but it could not be recalled; so he went on.


As the number of wounded was prodigious, and no one had time to think of anything 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.

'As the number of wounded was prodigious, and no one had time to think of anything but his own safety, I was left upon the field.


replied my uncle _Toby_ ----So that it was noon the next day, continued the corporal, before I was exchanged, and put into a cart with thirteen or fourteen more, in order to be convey'd to our hospital.

It was noon the next day before I was put into a cart with thirteen or fourteen more, to be taken to hospital.


There is no part of the body, an' please your honour, where a wound occasions more intolerable anguish than upon the knee----

There is no part of the body, your honour, where a wound causes more intolerable anguish than upon the knee-'


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.

'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 around 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 * * *----

'It is for that reason,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'that the groin is infinitely more sensitive - there being not only tendons and what-d'ye-call-'ems - 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----

Mrs. Wadman, who had been all this time in her arbour, instantly held her breath - unpinned her mob-cap, and stood 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----

The dispute went on with amicable and equal force betwixt my uncle Toby and Trim; till Trim at length recollecting that he had often cried at his master's sufferings, but never shed a tear at his own, was willing to give up the point, which my uncle Toby would not allow.
''Tis proof of nothing, Trim,' said he, 'but thy generosity.'


So that whether the pain of a wound in the groin (cteris paribus) is greater than the pain of a wound in the knee----or
Whether the pain of a wound in the knee is not greater than the pain of a wound in the groin----are points which to this day remain unsettled.

So whether the pain of a wound in the groin is greater than the pain of a wound in the knee - or vice versa - to this day remains unsettled.


Le Fever got up to the Imperial army just time enough to try what metal his sword was made of, at the defeat of the _Turks_ before _Belgrade_; but a series of unmerited mischances had pursued him from that moment, and trod close upon his heels for four years together after; he had withstood these buffetings to the last, till sickness overtook him at _Marseilles_, from whence he wrote my uncle _Toby_ word, he had lost his time, his services, his health, and, in short, everything but his sword; ----and was waiting for the first ship to return back to him.

Le Fever reached the Imperial army in time to try his sword at the defeat of the Turks before Belgrade; but a series of undeserved accidents pursued him from that moment for four years after; he withstood these buffetings, till sickness overtook him at Marseilles.
From thence he wrote to my uncle Toby that he had lost his time, his services, his health, and, in short, everything but his sword; and was waiting for the first ship to return to him.


As this letter came to hand about six weeks before _Susannah's_ accident, _Le Fever_ was hourly expected; and was uppermost in my uncle _Toby's_ mind all the time my father was giving him and _Yorick_ a description of what kind of a person he would 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 ----I beg, brother _Shandy_, said my uncle _Toby_, I may recommend poor _Le Fever's_ son to you ----I beseech you do, added _Yorick_ ----He has a good heart, said my uncle _Toby_ ----And a brave one too, an' please your honour, said the corporal.

As this letter arrived about six weeks before Susannah's accident, Le Fever was hourly expected; and was uppermost in my uncle Toby's mind while my father was describing the person he would choose as a tutor for me. However, as my uncle Toby thought my father somewhat fanciful in the accomplishments he required, he did not mention Le Fever's name till Yorick suggested that the tutor should be gentle-tempered, generous, and good. This impressed the image of Le Fever upon my uncle Toby so forcibly, he rose instantly, and taking my father's hands, said:
'I beg, brother Shandy, I may recommend poor Le Fever's son to you. He has a good heart.'
'And a brave one too, your honour,' said the corporal.


----The best hearts, _Trim_, are ever the bravest, replied my uncle _Toby_.

'The best hearts, Trim, are ever the bravest,' replied my uncle Toby.


----And the greatest cowards, an' please your honour, in our regiment, were the greatest rascals in it.

'And the greatest cowards, your honour, in our regiment, were the greatest rascals.


----There was serjeant _Kumber_, and ensign------


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

'We'll talk of them,' said my father, 'another time.'


----here's sixpence----do step into that bookseller's shop, and call me a _day-tall_ critick.

here's sixpence - do step into that bookseller's shop, and get me a day-tall critic.


I am very willing to give any one of 'em a crown to help me with his tackling, to get my father and my uncle _Toby_ off the stairs, and to put them to bed.

I am very willing to give any one of 'em a crown to help me get my father and my uncle Toby off the stairs, and put them to bed.


--'Tis even high time; for except a short nap, which they both got whilst _Trim_ was boring the jack-boots--and which, by the bye, did my father no sort of good, upon the score of the bad hinge--they have not else shut their eyes, since nine hours before the time that Dr. _Slop_ was led into the back parlour in that dirty pickle by _Obadiah_.

'Tis high time; for except for a short nap, which they had whilst Trim was boring the jack-boots - which nap, by the bye, did my father no good, because of the bad hinge - they have not shut their eyes since nine hours before Dr. Slop was led into the back parlour by Obadiah.


Was every day of my life to be as busy a day as this--and to take up --Truce.

Was every day of my life to be as busy as this - Truce.


I will not finish that sentence till I have made an observation upon the strange state of affairs between the reader and myself, just as things stand at present--an observation never applicable before to any one biographical writer since the creation of the world, but to myself--and I believe, will never hold good to any other, until its final destruction--and therefore, for the very novelty of it alone, it must be worth your worships attending to.

I will not finish that sentence till I have made an observation upon the strange state of affairs between the reader and myself - an observation that never applied before to any biographical writer in the world, but me - and therefore, for its novelty alone, it must be worth your worships attending to.


I am this month one whole year older than I was this time twelve-month; and having got, as you perceive, almost into the middle of my fourth volume[4.7]--and no farther than to my first day's life--'tis demonstrative that I have three hundred and sixty-four days more life to write just now, than when I first set out; so that instead of advancing, as a common writer, in my work with what I have been doing at it--on the contrary, I am just thrown so many volumes back--was every day of my life to be as busy a day as this --And why not? ----and the transactions and opinions of it to take up as much description --And for what reason should they be cut short?

I am this month one whole year older than I was this time twelve months ago; and having got, as you see, almost into the middle of my fourth volume, and no farther than my first day of life - therefore I have three hundred and sixty-four days more life to write now, than when I first set out; so that instead of advancing, as a common writer, in my work - on the contrary, I am just thrown so many volumes back.
If every day of my life was as busy as this - and my opinions were to take up as much description - and why should they be cut short?


as at this rate I should just live 364 times faster than I should write --It must follow, an' please your worships, that the more I write, the more I shall have to write--and consequently, the more your worships read, the more your worships will have to read.

- at this rate I should just live 364 times faster than I write. It must follow that the more I write, the more I shall have to write - and consequently, the more your worships read, the more your worships will have to read.


Will this be good for your worships' eyes?


It will do well for mine; and, was it not that my OPINIONS will be the death of me, I perceive I shall lead a fine life of it out of this self-same life of mine; or, in other words, shall lead a couple of fine lives together.

Was it not that my Opinions will be the death of me, I shall lead a fine life out of this life of mine; or, rather shall lead a couple of fine lives together.


As for the proposal of twelve volumes a year, or a volume a month, it no way alters my prospect--write as I will, and rush as I may into the middle of things, as _Horace_ advises --I shall never overtake myself whipp'd and driven to the last pinch; at the worst I shall have one day the start of my pen--and one day is enough for two volumes----and two volumes will be enough for one year.--

As for the proposal of twelve volumes a year, it no way alters my prospect - rush as I may, I shall never overtake myself; at the worst I shall have one day's head start of my pen - and one day is enough for two volumes - and two volumes will be enough for one year.


Heaven prosper the manufacturers of paper under this propitious reign, which is now opened to us----as I trust its providence will prosper everything else in it that is taken in hand.----

Heaven prosper the manufacturers of paper under this propitious reign.


As for the propagation of Geese --I give myself no concern --Nature is all bountiful --I shall never want tools to work with.

As for Geese and their quills - I have no concern. Nature is bountiful - I shall never lack tools to work with.


you have got my father and my uncle _Toby_ off the stairs, and seen them to bed?

you have got my father and my uncle off the stairs, and seen them to bed?


----You dropp'd a curtain at the stair-foot --I thought you had no other way for it ------Here's a crown for your trouble.

You dropped a curtain at the stair-foot. - Here's a crown for your trouble.


[Footnote 4.7: According to the original Editions.]


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

Is this a fit time, said my father to himself, to talk of Pensions and Grenadiers?


To conceive this right, --call for pen and ink--here's paper ready to your hand.

To imagine 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.

Sit down, Sir, and paint her as like your mistress as you can - as unlike your wife as your conscience will let you - 'tis all one to me - please your own fancy.


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


----Then, dear Sir, how could my uncle _Toby_ resist it?


thou wilt have one page, at least, within thy covers, which MALICE will not blacken, and which IGNORANCE cannot misrepresent.

thou wilt have this one page, at least, which Malice will not blacken, and which Ignorance cannot misrepresent.


----But before the Corporal begins, I must first give you a description of his attitude; ----otherwise he will naturally stand represented, by your imagination, in an uneasy posture, --stiff, --perpendicular, --dividing the weight of his body equally upon both legs; ----his eye fixed, as if on duty; --his look determined, --clenching the sermon in his left hand, like his firelock.

- But before the Corporal begins, I must first give you a description of his attitude; otherwise you will imagine him stiff and perpendicular, - his eye fixed, as if on duty, his look determined; clenching the sermon in his left hand.


----In a word, you would be apt to paint _Trim_, as if he was standing in his platoon ready for action.

- In a word, you would be apt to paint Trim, as if he was standing in his platoon ready for action.


--His attitude was as unlike all this as you can conceive.

His attitude was as unlike this as you can conceive.


He stood before them with his body swayed, and bent forwards just so far, as to make an angle of 85 degrees and a half upon the plain of the horizon; --which sound orators, to whom I address this, know very well to be the true persuasive angle of incidence; --in any other angle you may talk and preach; --'tis certain; --and it is done every day; --but with what effect, --I leave the world to judge!

He stood before them with his body bent forwards to make an angle of 85 degrees and a half from the horizontal; - which orators know very well to be the true persuasive angle of incidence; - in any other angle you may talk and preach, certainly; but with what effect, I leave the world to judge!


The necessity of this precise angle, of 85 degrees and a half to a mathematical exactness, ----does it not shew us, by the way, how the arts and sciences mutually befriend each other?

The necessity of this precise angle, of 85 degrees and a half - does it not show us, by the way, how the arts and sciences mutually befriend each other?


How the duce Corporal _Trim_, who knew not so much as an acute angle from an obtuse one, came to hit it so exactly; ----or whether it was chance or nature, or good sense or imitation, &c., shall be commented upon in that part of the cyclopdia of arts and sciences, where the instrumental parts of the eloquence of the senate, the pulpit, and the bar, the coffee-house, the bed-chamber, and fire-side, fall under consideration.

How the deuce Corporal Trim, who knew not an acute angle from an obtuse one, came to hit it so exactly; whether it was chance or good sense or imitation, I know not.


He stood, ----for I repeat it, to take the picture of him in at one view, with his body swayed, and somewhat bent forwards, --his right leg from under him, sustaining seven-eighths of his whole weight, ------the foot of his left leg, the defect of which was no disadvantage to his attitude, advanced a little, --not laterally, nor forwards, but in a line betwixt them; --his knee bent, but that not violently, --but so as to fall within the limits of the line of beauty; --and I add, of the line of science too; --for consider, it had one eighth part of his body to bear up; --so that in this case the position of the leg is determined, --because the foot could be no farther advanced, or the knee more bent, than what would allow him, mechanically to receive an eighth part of his whole weight under it, and to carry it too.

He stood, I repeat, with his body somewhat bent forwards, his right leg sustaining seven-eighths of his weight, - the left foot advanced a little, his knee bent, not violently, but so as to fall within the limits of the line of beauty; - consider, it had one eighth of his body to bear up - so that the foot could be no farther advanced, or the knee more bent, than what would allow him to carry an eighth part of his weight.


[-->] This I recommend to painters: --need I add, --to orators!

[This I recommend to painters: - need I add, to orators!


--I think not; for unless they practise it, ------they must fall upon their noses.

for unless they practise it, they must fall upon their noses.]


So much for Corporal _Trim's_ body and legs.


----He held the sermon loosely, not carelessly, in his left hand, raised something above his stomach, and detached a little from his breast; ----his right arm falling negligently by his side, as nature and the laws of gravity ordered it, ----but with the palm of it open and turned towards his audience, ready to aid the sentiment in case it stood in need.

He held the sermon loosely, not carelessly, in his left hand; his right arm falling negligently by his side, but with the palm open and turned towards his audience, ready to aid the sentiment if needed.


Corporal _Trim's_ eyes and the muscles of his face were in full harmony with the other parts of him; --he looked frank, --unconstrained, --something assured, --but not bordering upon assurance.

Corporal Trim's eyes and face were in full harmony with the rest of him; he looked frank and assured.


Let not the critic ask how Corporal _Trim_ could come by all this.


----I've told him it should be explained; --but so he stood before my father, my uncle _Toby_, and Dr. _Slop_, --so swayed his body, so contrasted his limbs, and with such an oratorical sweep throughout the whole figure, ----a statuary might have modelled from it; ----nay, I doubt whether the oldest Fellow of a College, --or the _Hebrew_ Professor himself, could have much mended it.

So he stood, with such an oratorical sweep of figure, a statue might have been modelled from it.


----_For we _trust_ we have a good Conscience_


[Certainly, _Trim_, quoth my father, interrupting him, you give that sentence a very improper accent; for you curl up your nose, man, and read it with such a sneering tone, as if the Parson was going to abuse the Apostle.

'Certainly, Trim,' quoth my father, interrupting him, 'you give that sentence a very improper accent; for you curl up your nose, man, and read it with a sneering tone, as if the Parson was going to abuse the apostle.'


He is, an' please your Honour, replied _Trim_.


Sir, quoth Dr. _Slop_, _Trim_ is certainly in the right; for the writer (who I perceive is a Protestant) by the snappish manner in which he takes up the apostle, is certainly going to abuse him; --if this treatment of him has not done it already.

'Sir,' quoth Dr. Slop, 'The writer (who I perceive is a Protestant) is certainly going to abuse the apostle, if he has not done it already.'


But from whence, replied my father, have you concluded so soon, Dr. _Slop_, that the writer is of our church?

'But how,' replied my father, 'have you concluded so soon, Dr. Slop, that the writer is of our church?


--for aught I can see yet, --he may be of any church.

for aught I can see, he may be of any church.'


----Because, answered Dr. _Slop_, if he was of ours, --he durst no more take such a licence, --than a bear by his beard: --If, in our communion, Sir, a man was to insult an apostle, ----a saint, ----or even the paring of a saint's nail, --he would have his eyes scratched out.

'Because,' answered Dr. Slop, 'if he was of ours, he would not dare take such a liberty. If, in our communion, Sir, a man was to insult an apostle - a saint - he would have his eyes scratched out.'


No, replied Dr. _Slop_, he would have an old house over his head.

'No,' replied Dr. Slop, 'he would have an old house on his head.'


Pray is the Inquisition an ancient building, answered my uncle _Toby_, or is it a modern one?

'Is the Inquisition an ancient building?' asked my uncle Toby.


--I know nothing of architecture, replied Dr. _Slop_.

'I know nothing of architecture,' replied Dr. Slop.


--An' please your Honours, quoth _Trim_, the Inquisition is the vilest ----Prithee spare thy description, _Trim_, I hate the very name of it, said my father.

'An' please your Honours,' quoth Trim, 'the Inquisition is the vilest-'
'Prithee stop thy description, Trim, I hate the very name of it,' said my father.


--No matter for that, answered Dr. _Slop_, --it has its uses; for tho' I'm no great advocate for it, yet, in such a case as this, he would soon be taught better manners; and I can tell him, if he went on at that rate, would be flung into the Inquisition for his pains.

'It has its uses,' answered Dr. Slop, 'though I'm no great advocate for it; yet, in such a case as this, he would soon be taught better manners; and I can tell him, if he went on, he would be flung into the Inquisition for his pains.'


God help him then, quoth my uncle _Toby_.

'God help him then,' quoth my uncle Toby.


Amen, added _Trim_; for Heaven above knows, I have a poor brother who has been fourteen years a captive in it.

'Amen,' added Trim; 'for I have a poor brother who has been fourteen years a captive in it.'


--I never heard one word of it before, said my uncle _Toby_, hastily: --How came he there, _Trim?_ ----O, Sir!

'I never heard one word of this before,' said my uncle Toby. 'How came he there, Trim?'
'O, Sir!


the story will make your heart bleed, --as it has made mine a thousand times; --but it is too long to be told now; --your Honour shall hear it from first to last some day when I am working beside you in our fortifications; --but the short of the story is this; --That my brother _Tom_ went over a servant to _Lisbon_, --and then married a Jew's widow, who kept a small shop, and sold sausages, which somehow or other, was the cause of his being taken in the middle of the night out of his bed, where he was lying with his wife and two small children, and carried directly to the Inquisition, where, God help him, continued _Trim_, fetching a sigh from the bottom of his heart, --the poor honest lad lies confined at this hour; he was as honest a soul, added _Trim_, (pulling out his handkerchief) as ever blood warmed.----

the story will make your heart bleed - but it is too long to be told now; your Honour shall hear it some day when I am working beside you in our fortifications; - but the short of the story is this. My brother Tom was a servant in Lisbon, and married a Jew's widow, who kept a small shop, and sold sausages, which somehow or other, was the cause of his being taken in the middle of the night out of his bed, where he was lying with his wife and two small children, and carried to the Inquisition, where, God help him,' continued Trim, with a deep sigh, pulling out his handkerchief, 'the poor honest lad lies confined to this hour.'


--The tears trickled down _Trim's_ cheeks faster than he could well wipe them away.

The tears trickled down Trim's cheeks faster than he could wipe them away.


--And dead silence in the room ensued for some minutes.


Come, _Trim_, quoth my father, after he saw the poor fellow's grief had got a little vent, --read on, --and put this melancholy story out of thy head: --I grieve that I interrupted thee; but prithee begin the sermon again; --for if the first sentence in it is matter of abuse, as thou sayest, I have a great desire to know what kind of provocation the apostle has given.

'Come, Trim,' quoth my father, after a while, 'read, and put this melancholy story out of thy head. Begin again.'


Corporal _Trim_ wiped his face, and returned his handkerchief into his pocket, and, making a bow as he did it, --he began again.]

Corporal Trim wiped his face, returned his handkerchief into his pocket, and began again.


_----For we _trust_ we have a good Conscience. --_


Surely if there is any thing in this life which a man may depend upon, and to the knowledge of which he is capable of arriving upon the most indisputable evidence, it must be this very thing, --whether he has a good conscience or no."

Surely if there is anything in this life which a man may depend upon, and may know upon the most indisputable evidence, it must be this very thing, whether he has a good conscience or no."'


[I am positive I am right, quoth Dr. _Slop_.]

['I am positive I am right,' quoth Dr. Slop.]


"If a man thinks at all, he cannot well be a stranger to the true state of this account; ----he must be privy to his own thoughts and desires; --he must remember his past pursuits, and know certainly the true springs and motives, which, in general, have governed the actions of his life."

'"If a man thinks at all, he must be aware of his own thoughts and desires; he must remember his past pursuits, and know the true motives which have governed the actions of his life.


[I defy him, without an assistant, quoth Dr. _Slop_.]


"In other matters we may be deceived by false appearances; and, as the wise man complains, _hardly do we guess aright at the things that are upon the earth, and with labour do we find the things that are before us_. But here the mind has all the evidence and facts within herself; ----is conscious of the web she has wove; ----knows its texture and fineness, and the exact share which every passion has had in working upon the several designs which virtue or vice has planned before her."

'"In other matters we may be deceived by false appearances; but here the mind has all the evidence and facts within herself; is conscious of the web she has wove; - knows its texture, and the exact share which every passion has had in working upon the designs which virtue or vice has planned before her."'


[The language is good, and I declare _Trim_ reads very well, quoth my father.]

['The language is good, and I declare Trim reads very well,' quoth my father.]


"Now, --as conscience is nothing else but the knowledge which the mind has within herself of this; and the judgment, either of approbation or censure, which it unavoidably makes upon the successive actions of our lives; 'tis plain you will say, from the very terms of the proposition, --whenever this inward testimony goes against a man, and he stands self-accused, that he must necessarily be a guilty man.

'"Now, as conscience is nothing but the knowledge which the mind has within herself; and the approval or censure, which it makes upon our actions; 'tis plain, you will say, that whenever this inward testimony goes against a man, and he stands self-accused, that he must be guilty.


--And, on the contrary, when the report is favourable on his side, and his heart condemns him not: --that it is not a matter of _trust_, as the apostle intimates, but a matter of _certainty_ and fact, that the conscience is good, and that the man must be good also."

And, on the contrary, when the report is favourable on his side, and his heart condemns him not: - it is not a matter of trust, as the apostle suggests, but a matter of certainty, that the conscience is good, and that the man must be good also."'


[Then the apostle is altogether in the wrong, I suppose, quoth Dr. _Slop_, and the Protestant divine is in the right.

['Then the apostle is altogether wrong, I suppose,' quoth Dr. Slop, 'and the Protestant divine is in the right.'


Sir, have patience, replied my father, for I think it will presently appear that St. _Paul_ and the Protestant divine are both of an opinion.

'Sir, have patience,' replied my father, 'for I think it will presently appear that St. Paul and the Protestant divine have the same opinion.'


--As nearly so, quoth Dr. _Slop_, as east is to west; --but this, continued he, lifting both hands, comes from the liberty of the press.

'As nearly so,' quoth Dr. Slop, 'as east is like west; but this comes from the liberty of the press.'


It is no more, at the worst, replied my uncle _Toby_, than the liberty of the pulpit; for it does not appear that the sermon is printed, or ever likely to be.

'It is only the liberty of the pulpit,' replied my uncle Toby; 'for it does not appear that the sermon is printed, or ever likely to be.'


"At first sight this may seem to be a true state of the case: and I make no doubt but the knowledge of right and wrong is so truly impressed upon the mind of man, --that did no such thing ever happen, as that the conscience of a man, by long habits of sin, might (as the scripture assures it may) insensibly become hard; --and, like some tender parts of his body, by much stress and continual hard usage, lose by degrees that nice sense and perception with which God and nature endowed it: --Did this never happen; --or was it certain that self-love could never hang the least bias upon the judgment; --or that the little interests below could rise up and perplex the faculties of our upper regions, and encompass them about with clouds and thick darkness: ----Could no such thing as favour and affection enter this sacred Court: --Did WIT disdain to take a bribe in it; --or was ashamed to shew its face as an advocate for an unwarrantable enjoyment: Or, lastly, were we assured that INTEREST stood always unconcerned whilst the cause was hearing--and that Passion never got into the judgment-seat, and pronounced sentence in the stead of Reason, which is supposed always to preside and determine upon the case: --Was this truly so, as the objection must suppose; --no doubt then the religious and moral state of a man would be exactly what he himself esteemed it: --and the guilt or innocence of every man's life could be known, in general, by no better measure, than the degrees of his own approbation and censure.

'"At first sight this may seem to be the true state of the case: and the knowledge of right and wrong is so truly impressed upon the mind of man, that if a man's conscience did not, by long habits of sin, gradually become hard, and lose that sense and perception which God gave it: if this never happened; or if it was certain that self-love never biased the judgment: - if neither favour nor wit entered this sacred Court, and if Passion never pronounced judgement instead of Reason: - was this truly so, then no doubt the moral state of a man would be exactly what he himself esteemed it: and the guilt or innocence of every man's life could be known by no better measure, than his own approbation or censure.


"I own, in one case, whenever a man's conscience does accuse him (as it seldom errs on that side) that he is guilty; and unless in melancholy and hypocondriac cases, we may safely pronounce upon it, that there is always sufficient grounds for the accusation.

"I admit that whenever a man's conscience accuses him of guilt (as it seldom errs on that side), we may safely say that (except in cases of melancholy) there are sufficient grounds for the accusation.


"But the converse of the proposition will not hold true; --namely, that whenever there is guilt, the conscience must accuse; and if it does not, that a man is therefore innocent.

"But the opposite will not hold true; namely, that whenever there is guilt, the conscience must accuse; and that if it does not, that a man is therefore innocent.


----This is not fact ------So that the common consolation which some good christian or other is hourly administering to himself, --that he thanks God his mind does not misgive him; and that, consequently, he has a good conscience, because he hath a quiet one, --is fallacious; --and as current as the inference is, and as infallible as the rule appears at first sight, yet when you look nearer to it, and try the truth of this rule upon plain facts, ----you see it liable to so much error from a false application; ----the principle upon which it goes so often perverted; ----the whole force of it lost, and sometimes so vilely cast away, that it is painful to produce the common examples from human life, which confirm the account.

This is not fact. The common consolation which some good Christian or other is hourly administering to himself, - that he thanks God he has a good conscience, merely because he hath a quiet one - is false; and the rule is liable to so much error that the whole force of it is lost.


"A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his principles; --exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall live shameless, in the open commission of a sin which no reason or pretence can justify, ----a sin by which, contrary to all the workings of humanity, he shall ruin for ever the deluded partner of his guilt; --rob her of her best dowry; and not only cover her own head with dishonour; --but involve a whole virtuous family in shame and sorrow for her sake.

"A man may be vicious and utterly debauched; may live shamelessly, openly committing a sin which shall ruin for ever the deluded partner of his guilt; and not only cover her head with dishonour, but involve a whole virtuous family in shame and sorrow for her sake.


Surely, you will think conscience must lead such a man a troublesome life; he can have no rest night or day from its reproaches.


CONSCIENCE had something else to do all this time, than break in upon him; as _Elijah_ reproached the god _Baal_, ----this domestic god _was either talking, or pursuing, or was in a journey, or peradventure he slept and could not be awoke_.


"Perhaps HE was gone out in company with HONOUR to fight a duel: to pay off some debt at play; ----or dirty annuity, the bargain of his lust; Perhaps CONSCIENCE all this time was engaged at home, talking aloud against petty larceny, and executing vengeance upon some such puny crimes as his fortune and rank of life secured him against all temptation of committing; so that he lives as merrily" ----[If he was of our church, tho', quoth Dr. _Slop_, he could not]-- "sleeps as soundly in his bed; --and at last meets death as unconcernedly; --perhaps much more so, than a much better man."

Conscience is busy elsewhere all this time, talking aloud against petty larceny, and executing vengeance upon some puny crimes that his fortune secures him against any temptation of committing; so that he lives as merrily, sleeps as soundly, and at last meets death as unconcernedly as a much better man."'


[All this is impossible with us, quoth Dr. _Slop_, turning to my father, --the case could not happen in our church.

['All this is impossible with us,' quoth Dr. Slop, turning to my father; 'it could not happen in our church.'


--It happens in ours, however, replied my father, but too often.

'It happens in ours only too often,' replied my father.


----I own, quoth Dr. _Slop_, (struck a little with my father's frank acknowledgment)--that a man in the _Romish_ church may live as badly; --but then he cannot easily die so.

'I admit,' quoth Dr. Slop, struck with my father's frankness, 'that a man in the Romish church may live badly; but then he cannot easily die so.'


----'Tis little matter, replied my father, with an air of indifference, --how a rascal dies.

''Tis little matter,' replied my father, 'how a rascal dies.'


--I mean, answered Dr. _Slop_, he would be denied the benefits of the last sacraments.

'I mean,' answered Dr. Slop, 'he would be denied the last sacraments.'


--Pray how many have you in all, said my uncle _Toby_, ----for I always forget?

'Pray, how many have you,' said my uncle Toby, 'for I always forget?'


--said my uncle _Toby_; tho' not accented as a note of acquiescence, --but as an interjection of that particular species of surprize, when a man in looking into a drawer, finds more of a thing than he expected.

said my uncle Toby, with the tone of that particular kind of surprise, when a man looking into a drawer finds more of a thing than he expected.


Dr. _Slop_, who had an ear, understood my uncle _Toby_ as well as if he had wrote a whole volume against the seven sacraments.


replied Dr. _Slop_ (stating my uncle _Toby's_ argument over again to him) ----Why, Sir, are there not seven cardinal virtues?

he replied. 'Sir, are there not seven cardinal virtues?


--'Tis more than I know, replied my uncle _Toby_.

''Tis more than I know,' replied my uncle Toby.


------Are there not seven wonders of the world?

'Are there not seven wonders of the world?


----That there are, quoth my father with a most affected gravity.


But prithee, continued he, go on with the rest of thy characters, _Trim_.]


"Another is sordid, unmerciful," (here _Trim_ waved his right hand) "a strait-hearted, selfish wretch, incapable either of private friendship or public spirit.

'"Another man is sordid, unmerciful,"' (here Trim waved his right hand) - '"a selfish wretch, incapable either of private friendship or public spirit.


Take notice how he passes by the widow and orphan in their distress, and sees all the miseries incident to human life without a sigh or a prayer."

He passes by the widow and orphan in their distress, and sees human misery without a sigh or a prayer.


[An' please your honours, cried _Trim_, I think this a viler man than the other.]


"Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such occasions?

Shall not conscience rise up and sting him?


----No; thank God there is no occasion, _I pay every man his own; --I have no fornication to answer to my conscience; --no faithless vows or promises to make up; --I have debauched no man's wife or child; thank God, I am not as other men, adulterers, unjust, or even as this libertine, who stands before me._

'No,' he says; 'there is no need, I pay every man his due; I have no fornication, no faithless vows; thank God, I am not an adulterer like other men.'


'"A third is crafty and designing in his nature.


View his whole life; --'tis nothing but a cunning contexture of dark arts and unequitable subterfuges, basely to defeat the true intent of all laws, ----plain-dealing and the safe enjoyment of our several properties.

View his life; 'tis nothing but a cunning mixture of dark arts and subterfuges.


----You will see such a one working out a frame of little designs upon the ignorance and perplexities of the poor and needy man; --shall raise a fortune upon the inexperience of a youth, or the unsuspecting temper of his friend, who would have trusted him with his life.

You will see such a one working out designs upon the ignorance of the poor and needy man. He shall raise a fortune upon an inexperienced youth, or an unsuspecting friend, who would have trusted him with his life.


"When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look back upon this black account, and state it over again with his conscience --CONSCIENCE looks into the STATUTES AT LARGE; --finds no express law broken by what he has done; --perceives no penalty or forfeiture of goods and chattels incurred; --sees no scourge waving over his head, or prison opening his gates upon him: --What is there to affright his conscience?

'"When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look back upon this black account, conscience finds no law broken by what he has done; perceives no prison opening its gates.


--Conscience has got safely entrenched behind the Letter of the Law; sits there invulnerable, fortified with #Cases# and #Reports# so strongly on all sides; --that it is not preaching can dispossess it of its hold."

Conscience is safely entrenched behind the Letter of the Law; sits there invulnerable, fortified with Cases and Reports.'"


[Here Corporal _Trim_ and my uncle _Toby_ exchanged looks with each other.

[Here Corporal Trim and my uncle Toby exchanged looks.


--Aye, aye, _Trim!_ quoth my uncle _Toby_, shaking his head, ------these are but sorry fortifications, _Trim_.

'Aye, aye, Trim!' quoth my uncle Toby, shaking his head, 'these are sorry fortifications.'


very poor work, answered _Trim_, to what your Honour and I make of it.


----The character of this last man, said Dr. _Slop_, interrupting _Trim_, is more detestable than all the rest; and seems to have been taken from some pettifogging Lawyer amongst you: --Amongst us, a man's conscience could not possibly continue so long _blinded_, ----three times in a year, at least, he must go to confession.

'The character of this last man,' said Dr. Slop, 'is more detestable than all the rest; and seems to have been taken from some pettifogging Lawyer. Amongst us, a man's conscience could not possibly continue so long blinded: three times a year, at least, he must go to confession.'


----Go on, _Trim_, quoth my father, or _Obadiah_ will have got back before thou hast got to the end of thy sermon.

'Go on, Trim,' quoth my father, 'or Obadiah will have got back before thou hast finished thy sermon.'


----'Tis a very short one, replied _Trim_.


----I wish it was longer, quoth my uncle _Toby_, for I like it hugely.

'I wish it was longer,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'for I like it hugely.'


"A fourth man shall want even this refuge; --shall break through all their ceremony of slow chicane; ----scorns the doubtful workings of secret plots and cautious trains to bring about his purpose: ----See the bare-faced villain, how he cheats, lies, perjures, robs, murders!

'"A fourth man shall lack even this refuge; he scorns the doubtful workings of secret plots. See the bare-faced villain, how he cheats, lies, perjures, robs, murders!


--But indeed much better was not to be expected, in the present case--the poor man was in the dark!

- But indeed no better was to be expected, for the poor man was in the dark!


------his priest had got the keeping of his conscience; ----and all he would let him know of it, was, That he must believe in the Pope; --go to Mass; --cross himself; --tell his beads; --be a good Catholic, and that this, in all conscience, was enough to carry him to heaven.

His priest had got the keeping of his conscience; and all he would let him know of it, was that he must believe in the Pope; go to Mass; cross himself; be a good Catholic, and that this was enough to carry him to heaven.


--Why; --he had a mental reservation in it.


--But if he is so wicked and abandoned a wretch as you represent him; --if he robs, --if he stabs, will not conscience, on every such act, receive a wound itself?

'"But if he is so wicked, you may say, - if he robs and stabs, will not his conscience receive a wound?


--Aye, --but the man has carried it to confession; ----the wound digests there, and will do well enough, and in a short time be quite healed up by absolution.

- Aye, but the man has carried it to confession; the wound will soon be quite healed up by absolution.


----when, not content with the too many natural and fatal ways, thro' which the heart of man is every day thus treacherous to itself above all things; --thou hast wilfully set open the wide gate of deceit before the face of this unwary traveller, too apt, God knows, to go astray of himself; and confidently speak peace to himself, when there is no peace.

Not content with the many natural ways in which the heart of man is every day treacherous to itself, thou hast wilfully set open the wide gate of deceit to this unwary traveller, too apt, God knows, to go astray, and confidently speak peace to himself, when there is no peace.


"Of this the common instances which I have drawn out of life, are too notorious to require much evidence.

'"Examples of this are too notorious to require much evidence.


If any man doubts the reality of them, or thinks it impossible for a man to be such a bubble to himself, --I must refer him a moment to his own reflections, and will then venture to trust my appeal with his own heart.

If any man doubts them, I must refer him to his own reflections, and will then trust my appeal with his heart.


"Let him consider in how different a degree of detestation, numbers of wicked actions stand _there_, tho' equally bad and vicious in their own natures; --he will soon find, that such of them as strong inclination and custom have prompted him to commit, are generally dressed out and painted with all the false beauties which a soft and a flattering hand can give them; --and that the others, to which he feels no propensity, appear, at once, naked and deformed, surrounded with all the true circumstances of folly and dishonour.

'"He will soon find that there, wicked actions are viewed differently: some, which his wishes and habits have prompted him to commit, are painted with false beauty; yet others, to which he feels no inclination, appear naked and deformed, surrounded with folly and dishonour.


"When _David_ surprized _Saul_ sleeping in the cave, and cut off the skirt of his robe--we read his heart smote him for what he had done: ----But in the matter of _Uriah_, where a faithful and gallant servant, whom he ought to have loved and honoured, fell to make way for his lust, --where conscience had so much greater reason to take the alarm, his heart smote him not.

'"When David surprised Saul sleeping in the cave, and cut off the skirt of his robe - we read his heart smote him for what he had done. But in the matter of Uriah, where a faithful and gallant servant, whom he ought to have loved, fell to make way for his lust, - where conscience had so much greater reason to take alarm, his heart smote him not.


A whole year had almost passed from the first commission of that crime, to the time _Nathan_ was sent to reprove him; and we read not once of the least sorrow or compunction of heart which he testified, during all that time, for what he had done.

We read not once of the least sorrow or compunction which he felt for what he had done.


"Thus conscience, this once able monitor, ----placed on high as a judge within us, and intended by our Maker as a just and equitable one too, --by an unhappy train of causes and impediments, takes often such imperfect cognizance of what passes, ----does its office so negligently, ----sometimes so corruptly--that it is not to be trusted alone; and therefore we find there is a necessity, an absolute necessity, of joining another principle with it, to aid, if not govern, its determinations.

'"Thus conscience, placed on high as a judge within us, and intended by our Maker as a just one, - by an unhappy train of impediments, does its office so imperfectly - sometimes so corruptly - that it is not to be trusted alone. Therefore we find there is an absolute necessity of joining another principle with it, to aid its determinations.


"So that if you would form a just judgment of what is of infinite importance to you not to be misled in, --namely, in what degree of real merit you stand either as an honest man, an useful citizen, a faithful subject to your king, or a good servant to your God, ----call in religion and morality.

'"So that if you would form a just judgment of the degree of merit in which you stand, - call in religion and morality.


--Look, What is written in the law of God?


--Consult calm reason and the unchangeable obligations of justice and truth; ----what say they?

Consult calm reason and the obligations of justice and truth; what say they?


"Let CONSCIENCE determine the matter upon these reports; ----and then if thy heart condemns thee not, which is the case the apostle supposes, ----the rule will be infallible;" --[Here Dr. _Slop_ fell asleep]-- "_thou wilt have confidence towards God_; ----that is, have just grounds to believe the judgment thou hast past upon thyself, is the judgment of God; and nothing else but an anticipation of that righteous sentence which will be pronounced upon thee hereafter by that Being, to whom thou art finally to give an account of thy actions.

'"Let Conscience determine the matter upon these reports; and then if thy heart condemns thee not, the rule will be infallible;"' [Here Dr. Slop fell asleep] - '"thou wilt have just grounds to believe that the judgment thou hast passed upon thyself, is the judgment of God; and an anticipation of that righteous sentence which will be pronounced upon thee hereafter, when thou art finally called to account.


"_Blessed is the man_, indeed, then, as the author of the book of _Ecclesiasticus_ expresses it, _who is not pricked with the multitude of his sins: Blessed is the man whose heart hath not condemned him; whether he be rich, or whether he be poor, if he have a good heart_ (a heart thus guided and informed) _he shall at all times rejoice in a chearful countenance; his mind shall tell him more than seven watch-men that sit above upon a tower on high_."

'"Blessed is the man, indeed, then, as the author of Ecclesiasticus says, who is not pricked with the multitude of his sins. Blessed is the man whose heart hath not condemned him; whether he be rich, or poor, if he have a good heart, he shall rejoice; his mind shall tell him more than seven watch-men upon a tower on high."'


--[A tower has no strength, quoth my uncle _Toby_, unless 'tis flank'd.]

['A tower has no strength,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'unless 'tis flanked.']


-- "In the darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than a thousand casuists, and give the state he lives in, a better security for his behaviour than all the causes and restrictions put together which law-makers are forced to multiply: --_Forced_, I say, as things stand; human laws not being a matter of original choice, but of pure necessity, brought in to fence against the mischievous effects of those consciences which are no law unto themselves; well intending, by the many provisions made, --that in all such corrupt and misguided cases, where principles and the checks of conscience will not make us upright, --to supply their force, and, by the terrors of gaols and halters, oblige us to it."

'"In the darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than all the restrictions of law-makers, forced out of pure necessity to guard against the mischievous effects of those consciences which are corrupt and misguided."'


[I see plainly, said my father, that this sermon has been composed to be preached at the Temple, ----or at some Assize.

['I see plainly,' said my father, 'that this sermon has been composed to be preached at the law-courts.


--I like the reasoning, --and am sorry that Dr. _Slop_ has fallen asleep before the time of his conviction: --for it is now clear, that the Parson, as I thought at first, never insulted St. _Paul_ in the least; --nor has there been, brother, the least difference between them.

I like the reasoning, and am sorry that Dr. Slop has fallen asleep: for it is now clear, that the Parson, as I thought at first, never insulted St. Paul in the least; nor has there been the least difference between them.'


----A great matter, if they had differed, replied my uncle _Toby_, --the best friends in the world may differ sometimes.

'The best friends in the world may differ sometimes,' replied my uncle Toby.


----True, --brother _Toby_, quoth my father, shaking hands with him, --we'll fill our pipes, brother, and then _Trim_ shall go on.

'True, brother Toby,' quoth my father, shaking hands with him. 'We'll fill our pipes, and then Trim shall go on.


Well, ----what dost thou think of it? said my father speaking to Corporal _Trim_, as he reached his tobacco-box.


I think, answered the Corporal, that the seven watch-men upon the tower, who, I suppose, are all centinels there, --are more, an' please your Honour, than were necessary; --and, to go on at that rate, would harrass a regiment all to pieces, which a commanding officer, who loves his men, will never do, if he can help it, because two centinels, added the Corporal, are as good as twenty.

'I think,' answered the Corporal, 'that the seven watch-men upon the tower, who, I suppose, are sentinels, are more than necessary; and to go on at that rate, would harass a regiment all to pieces, which a commanding officer will never do. Two sentinels are as good as twenty.


--I have been a commanding officer myself in the _Corps de Garde_ a hundred times, continued _Trim_, rising an inch higher in his figure, as he spoke, --and all the time I had the honour to serve his Majesty King _William_, in relieving the most considerable posts, I never left more than two in my life.

- I have been a commanding officer myself,' continued Trim, rising an inch higher, 'and all the time I had the honour to serve his Majesty King William, I never left more than two sentinels in my life.'


----Very right, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, --but you do not consider, _Trim_, that the towers, in _Solomon's_ days, were not such things as our bastions, flanked and defended by other works; --this, _Trim_, was an invention since _Solomon's_ death; nor had they horn-works, or ravelins before the curtin, in his time; ----or such a foss as we make with a cuvette in the middle of it, and with covered ways and counterscarps pallisadoed along it, to guard against a _Coup de main_: --So that the seven men upon the tower were a party, I dare say, from the _Corps de Garde_, set there, not only to look out, but to defend it.

'Very right, Trim,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'but the towers in Solomon's days were not like our bastions; nor had they hornworks, or ravelins before the curtin, in his time; or such a foss as we make with a cuvette in the middle, and counterscarps pallisadoed along it. The seven men upon the tower were set there, I daresay, not only to look out, but to defend it.'


--They could be no more, an' please your Honour, than a Corporal's Guard.


--My father smiled inwardly, but not outwardly; --the subject being rather too serious, considering what had happened, to make a jest of.

My father smiled inwardly, but not outwardly; the subject being rather too serious to make a jest of.


--So putting his pipe into his mouth, which he had just lighted, --he contented himself with ordering _Trim_ to read on.

Putting his pipe into his mouth, he ordered Trim to read on.]


"To have the fear of God before our eyes, and, in our mutual dealings with each other, to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right and wrong: ----The first of these will comprehend the duties of religion; --the second, those of morality, which are so inseparably connected together, that you cannot divide these two _tables_, even in imagination (tho' the attempt is often made in practice) without breaking and mutually destroying them both.

'"To have the fear of God before our eyes, and to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right and wrong: the first of these will follow the duties of religion; the second, those of morality, which are so inseparably connected together that you cannot divide them (though the attempt is often made) without breaking them both.


"I said the attempt is often made; and so it is; ----there being nothing more common than to see a man who has no sense at all of religion, and indeed has so much honesty as to pretend to none, who would take it as the bitterest affront, should you but hint at a suspicion of his moral character, ----or imagine he was not conscientiously just and scrupulous to the uttermost mite.

'"I said the attempt is often made; and so it is; - there being nothing more common than a man who has no sense of religion, and indeed has enough honesty to pretend to none, who would take it as the bitterest affront should you hint at a suspicion of his moral character, or imagine he was not completely just and scrupulous.


"When there is some appearance that it is so, --tho' one is unwilling even to suspect the appearance of so amiable a virtue as moral honesty, yet were we to look into the grounds of it, in the present case, I am persuaded we should find little reason to envy such a one the honour of his motive.

'"There is little reason to envy such a one the honour of his motive.


"Let him declaim as pompously as he chooses upon the subject, it will be found to rest upon no better foundation than either his interest, his pride, his ease, or some such little and changeable passion as will give us but small dependence upon his actions in matters of great distress.

Let him declaim as pompously as he chooses, it will be found to rest upon no better foundation than his interest, his pride, his ease, or some other such changeable passion as gives us little dependence upon his actions in matters of great distress.


"I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in" --[There is no need, cried Dr. _Slop_ (waking), to call in any physician in this case]---- "to be neither of them men of much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day, and treat all its sanctions with so much scorn, as to put the matter past doubt.

'"I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in-"'
['There is no need,' cried Dr. Slop, waking, 'to call in any physician in this case.']
'"- to be neither of them men of religion: I hear them make a scornful jest of it every day.


Well; --notwithstanding this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one: --and what is dearer still to me, I trust my life to the honest skill of the other.

Despite this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one, and I trust my life to the honest skill of the other.


"Now let me examine what is my reason for this great confidence.

'"Now let me examine my reason for this great confidence.


Why, in the first place, I believe there is no probability that either of them will employ the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage; --I consider that honesty serves the purposes of this life: --I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their characters.

Firstly, I do not believe that either of them will use the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage; I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their characters.


--In a word, I'm persuaded that they cannot hurt me without hurting themselves more.

In a word, they cannot hurt me without hurting themselves more.


"But put it otherwise, namely, that interest lay, for once, on the other side; that a case should happen, wherein the one, without stain to his reputation, could secrete my fortune, and leave me naked in the world; --or that the other could send me out of it, and enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonour to himself or his art: --In this case, what hold have I of either of them?

'"But if interest lay, for once, on the other side; if the one, without stain to his reputation, could take my fortune, or the other could enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonour to himself - in this case, what hold have I over either of them?


--Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question; --Interest, the next most powerful motive in the world, is strongly against me: ------What have I left to cast into the opposite scale to balance this temptation?

Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question; Interest, the next most powerful motive in the world, is strongly against me. What have I left to cast into the opposite scale to balance this temptation?


I have nothing, ----nothing but what is lighter than a bubble ------I must lie at the mercy of HONOUR, or some such capricious principle --Strait security for two of the most valuable blessings! --my property and myself.

I have nothing. I am at the mercy of Honour, or some such capricious principle - poor security for my property and my health!


"As, therefore, we can have no dependence upon morality without religion; --so, on the other hand, there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality; nevertheless, 'tis no prodigy to see a man whose real moral character stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself in the light of a religious man.

'"As, therefore, we cannot depend upon morality without religion, so there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality. Nevertheless, 'tis not uncommon to see a man whose real moral character stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself as a religious man.


"He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable, --but even wanting in points of common honesty; yet inasmuch as he talks aloud against the infidelity of the age, ----is zealous for some points of religion, ----goes twice a day to church, --attends the sacraments, --and amuses himself with a few instrumental parts of religion, --shall cheat his conscience into a judgment, that, for this, he is a religious man, and has discharged truly his duty to God: And you will find such a man, through force of this delusion, generally looks down with spiritual pride upon every other man who has less affectation of piety, --though, perhaps, ten times more real honesty than himself.

'"He may be covetous, revengeful, implacable, and dishonest; yet he talks loudly against the infidelity of the age, goes twice a day to church, attends the sacraments, and cheats his conscience into thinking that he is a religious man, and has discharged truly his duty to God. You will find such a man generally looks down upon everyone who has less apparent piety, - though, perhaps, ten times more real honesty than himself.


"_This likewise is a sore evil under the sun_; and I believe, there is no one mistaken principle, which, for its time, has wrought more serious mischiefs.

'"I believe there is no one mistaken principle which has wrought more serious mischief.


------For a general proof of this, --examine the history of the _Romish_ church;" --[Well, what can you make of that? cried Dr. _Slop_]-- "see what scenes of cruelty, murder, rapine, bloodshed," ----[They may thank their own obstinacy, cried Dr. _Slop_]---- "have all been sanctified by a religion not strictly governed by morality.

For a proof of this, examine the history of the Romish church; see what scenes of cruelty, murder, rapine, bloodshed-"'
['They may thank their own obstinacy,' cried Dr. Slop.]
'"- have all been sanctified by a religion not governed by morality.


"In how many kingdoms of the world" --[Here _Trim_ kept waving his right hand from the sermon to the extent of his arm, returning it backwards and forwards to the conclusion of the paragraph.]


"In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading sword of this misguided saint-errant, spared neither age nor merit, or sex, or condition?

In how many countries has the crusading sword of this misguided saint-errant spared neither age nor merit?


--and, as he fought under the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice and humanity, he shewed none; mercilessly trampled upon both, --heard neither the cries of the unfortunate, nor pitied their distresses."

and, as he fought under the banners of a religion which freed him from justice and humanity, he showed none; mercilessly trampled upon the unfortunate, and pitied not their distress."


[I have been in many a battle, an' please your Honour, quoth _Trim_, sighing, but never in so melancholy a one as this, --I would not have drawn a tricker in it against these poor souls, ----to have been made a general officer.

['I have been in many a battle,' quoth Trim, sighing, 'but never in so melancholy a one as this.'


said Dr. _Slop_, looking towards _Trim_, with something more of contempt than the Corporal's honest heart deserved.

said Dr. Slop, looking at Trim with something of contempt.


----What do you know, friend, about this battle you talk of?


--I know, replied _Trim_, that I never refused quarter in my life to any man who cried out for it; ----but to a woman or a child, continued _Trim_, before I would level my musket at them, I would lose my life a thousand times.

'I know,' replied Trim, 'that I never refused mercy to any man who begged for it; and rather than fire upon a child or woman, I would lose my life a thousand times.'


----Here's a crown for thee, _Trim_, to drink with _Obadiah_ to-night, quoth my uncle _Toby_, and I'll give _Obadiah_ another too.

'Here's a crown for thee, Trim, to drink with Obadiah to-night,' quoth my uncle Toby.


--God bless your Honour, replied _Trim_, ----I had rather these poor women and children had it.

'God bless your Honour,' replied Trim; 'I had rather those poor women and children had it.'


----Thou art an honest fellow, quoth my uncle _Toby_.

'Thou art an honest fellow,' quoth my uncle.


----My father nodded his head, as much as to say, --and so he is.----


But prithee, _Trim_, said my father, make an end, --for I see thou hast but a leaf or two left.

'But prithee, Trim,' he said, 'make an end, for I see thou hast but a page or two left.'


"If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not sufficient, --consider at this instant, how the votaries of that religion are every day thinking to do service and honour to God, by actions which are a dishonour and scandal to themselves.

'"If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not enough, consider how the votaries of that religion are every day thinking to serve God, by actions which are a dishonour and scandal.


'"To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of the Inquisition."


-- "Behold _Religion_, with _Mercy_ and _Justice_ chained down under her feet, ----there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment.

"Behold Religion, with Mercy and Justice chained under her feet, there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment.


--[Here _Trim's_ face turned as pale as ashes.]

[Here Trim's face turned as pale as ashes.]


---- "See the melancholy wretch who uttered it" --[Here the tears began to trickle down.]---- "just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty has been able to invent."

'"See the melancholy wretch who uttered it-"' [Here the tears began to trickle down] '"-brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty has been able to invent."


--[D--n them all, quoth _Trim_, his colour returning into his face as red as blood.]


-- "Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors, --his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement."

'"Behold this helpless victim, his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement-"


'tis my brother, cried poor _Trim_ in a most passionate exclamation, dropping the sermon upon the ground, and clapping his hands together --I fear 'tis poor _Tom_.

'tis my brother,' cried poor Trim, dropping the sermon upon the ground.


My father's and my uncle _Toby's_ heart yearned with sympathy for the poor fellow's distress; even _Slop_ himself acknowledged pity for him.

My father and my uncle, and even Slop himself, pitied the poor fellow's distress.


----Why, _Trim_, said my father, this is not a history, ----'tis a sermon thou art reading; prithee begin the sentence again.]

'Why, Trim,' said my father, 'this is not a history, 'tis a sermon: prithee begin the sentence again.']


---- "Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors, --his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it suffers.

'"Behold this helpless victim, his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it suffers.


'"Observe the last movement of that horrid engine!"


--[I would rather face a cannon, quoth _Trim_, stamping.]

['I would rather face a cannon,' quoth Trim.]


-- "See what convulsions it has thrown him into!


----Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched, --what exquisite tortures he endures by it!"

Consider what exquisite tortures he endures!


see how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips!"


[I would not read another line of it, quoth _Trim_, for all this _world_; --I fear, an' please your Honours, all this is in _Portugal_, where my poor brother _Tom_ is.

['I would not read another line,' quoth Trim, 'for the world; I fear all this is in Portugal, where my poor brother Tom is.'


I tell thee, _Trim_, again, quoth my father, 'tis not an historical account, --'tis a description.

'I tell thee, Trim,' quoth my father, ''tis not a history.'


--'Tis only a description, honest man, quoth _Slop_, there's not a word of truth in it.

'There's not a word of truth in it,' quoth Slop.


----That's another story, replied my father.

'That's another story,' replied my father.


--However, as _Trim_ reads it with so much concern, --'tis cruelty to force him to go on with it.

'However, 'tis cruelty to force Trim to go on.


--Give me hold of the sermon, _Trim_, --I'll finish it for thee, and thou may'st go.

Give me the sermon, Trim; I'll finish it, and thou may'st go.'


I must stay and hear it, too, replied _Trim_, if your Honour will allow me; --tho' I would not read it myself for a Colonel's pay.

'I must stay and hear it,' replied Trim.


------Poor _Trim!_ quoth my uncle _Toby_.


"----Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched, --what exquisite torture he endures by it!

'"- Consider what exquisite torture he endures!


See how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, --willing to take its leave, ----but not suffered to depart!

See how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, not suffered to depart!


--Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell!"

Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell!"'


----[Then, thank God, however, quoth _Trim_, they have not killed him.]

['Thank God,' quoth Trim, 'they have not killed him.']