----"which words being heard by all the soldiers which were there, divers of them being inwardly terrified, did shrink back and make room for the assailant: all this did _Gymnast_ very well remark and consider; and therefore, making as if he would have alighted from off his horse, as he was poising himself on the mounting side, he most nimbly (with his short sword by his thigh) shifting his feet in the stirrup, and performing the stirrup-leather feat, whereby, after the inclining of his body downwards, he forthwith launched himself aloft into the air, and placed both his feet together upon the saddle, standing upright, with his back turned towards his horse's head, --Now (said he) my case goes forward. Then suddenly in the same posture wherein he was, he fetched a gambol upon one foot, and turning to the left-hand, failed not to carry his body perfectly round, just into his former position, without missing one jot. ----Ha! said _Tripet_, I will not do that at this time, --and not without cause. Well, said _Gymnast_, I have failed, --I will undo this leap; then with a marvellous strength and agility, turning towards the right-hand, he fetched another frisking gambol as before; which done, he set his right-hand thumb upon the bow of the saddle, raised himself up, and sprung into the air, poising and upholding his whole weight upon the muscle and nerve of the said thumb, and so turned and whirled himself about three times: at the fourth, reversing his body, and overturning it upside down, and foreside back, without _touching anything_, he brought himself betwixt the horse's two ears, and then giving himself a jerking swing, he seated himself upon the crupper----"
(This can't be fighting, said my uncle _Toby_. ----The corporal shook his head at it. ----Have patience, said _Yorick_.)

- 'which words being heard by all the soldiers there, many of them being inwardly terrified, did shrink back and make room for the assailant. All this did Gymnast consider; and therefore, acting as if he was alighting from his horse, as he was poising himself on the mounting side, he most nimbly (with his short sword by his thigh) shifted his feet in the stirrup, and performed the stirrup-leather feat, whereby, after the inclining of his body downwards, he launched himself aloft into the air, and placed both his feet together upon the saddle, standing upright with his back turned towards his horse's head.
'"Now," (said he) "my case goes forward." Then suddenly, in the same posture, he performed a gambol upon one foot, and turning to the left, carried his body perfectly round into his former position, without missing one jot.
'"Ha!" said Tripet, "I will not do that, - and not without cause."
'"Well," said Gymnast, "I have failed. I will undo this leap;" then with marvellous strength and agility, turning to the right, he performed another frisking gambol as before; then he set his right thumb upon the bow of the saddle, raised himself up, and sprung into the air, poising his whole weight upon the said thumb, and so turned and whirled himself about three times. At the fourth turn, reversing his body, and overturning it upside down and foreside back without touching anything, he brought himself betwixt the horse's ears, and then with a jerking swing, he seated himself upon the crupper-'
('This can't be fighting,' said my uncle Toby. The corporal shook his head. 'Have patience,' said Yorick.)


"Then (_Tripet_) pass'd his right leg over his saddle, and placed himself _en croup_. --But, said he, 'twere better for me to get into the saddle; then putting the thumbs of both hands upon the crupper before him, and thereupon leaning himself, as upon the only supporters of his body, he incontinently turned heels over head in the air, and strait found himself betwixt the bow of the saddle in a tolerable seat; then springing into the air with a summerset, he turned him about like a wind-mill, and made above a hundred frisks, turns, and demi-pommadas." --Good God! cried _Trim_, losing all patience, --one home thrust of a bayonet is worth it all. ----I think so too, replied _Yorick_.----
I am of a contrary opinion, quoth my father.

'Then Tripet passed his right leg over his saddle, and placed himself en croup.
'"But," said he, "'twere better for me to get into the saddle;" then putting the thumbs of both hands upon the crupper, and leaning on them, as the only supporters of his body, he turned heels over head, and found himself betwixt the bow of the saddle; then springing into the air with a somersault, he turned about like a windmill, and made above a hundred frisks, turns, and demi-pommadas-'
'Good God!' cried Trim, losing all patience; 'one home thrust of a bayonet is worth it all.'
'I think so too,' replied Yorick.
'I am of a contrary opinion,' quoth my father.


--No doubt, Sir, --there is a whole chapter wanting here--and a chasm of ten pages made in the book by it--but the bookbinder is neither a fool, or a knave, or a puppy--nor is the book a jot more imperfect (at least upon that score)----but, on the contrary, the book is more perfect and complete by wanting the chapter, than having it, as I shall demonstrate to your reverences in this manner. --I question first, by the bye, whether the same experiment might not be made as successfully upon sundry other chapters------but there is no end, an' please your reverences, in trying experiments upon chapters------we have had enough of it ----So there's an end of that matter.
But before I begin my demonstration, let me only tell you, that the chapter which I have torn out, and which otherwise you would all have been reading just now, instead of this----was the description of my father's, my uncle _Toby's_, _Trim's_, and _Obadiah's_ setting out and journeying to the visitation at ****.
We'll go in the coach, said my father --Prithee, have the arms been altered, _Obadiah?_ --It would have made my story much better to have begun with telling you, that at the time my mother's arms were added to the _Shandy's_, when the coach was re-painted upon my father's marriage, it had so fallen out, that the coach-painter, whether by performing all his works with the left-hand, like _Turpilius_ the _Roman_, or _Hans Holbein_ of _Basil_----or whether 'twas more from the blunder of his head than hand----or whether, lastly, it was from the sinister turn which every thing relating to our family was apt to take----it so fell out, however, to our reproach, that instead of the _bend-dexter_, which since _Harry_ the Eighth's reign was honestly our due------a _bend-sinister_, by some of these fatalities, had been drawn quite across the field of the _Shandy_ arms. 'Tis scarce credible that the mind of so wise a man as my father was, could be so much incommoded with so small a matter. The word coach--let it be whose it would--or coach-man, or coach-horse, or coach-hire, could never be named in the family, but he constantly complained of carrying this vile mark of illegitimacy upon the door of his own; he never once was able to step into the coach, or out of it, without turning round to take a view of the arms, and making a vow at the same time, that it was the last time he would ever set his foot in it again, till the _bend-sinister_ was taken out--but like the affair of the hinge, it was one of the many things which the _Destinies_ had set down in their books ever to be grumbled at (and in wiser families than ours)----but never to be mended.

- No doubt, Sir - there is a whole chapter (number 24) missing here - and a chasm of ten pages made in the book by it - but the bookbinder is neither a fool, or a knave, nor is the book a jot more imperfect - but, on the contrary, is more perfect by missing the chapter, than having it, as I shall demonstrate.
- I question, by the bye, whether the same experiment might not be made successfully upon various other chapters - but there is no end in trying experiments upon chapters - so enough.
But before I begin my demonstration, let me just tell you, that the chapter which I have torn out, and which otherwise you would be reading now, was the description of my father's, my uncle Toby's, Trim's, and Obadiah's setting out and journeying to the visit at ****.
'We'll go in the coach,' said my father - 'Prithee, has the coat of arms been altered, Obadiah?'
It would have made my story much better to have begun with telling you that at the time my mother's heraldic arms were added to the Shandy's, when the coach was re-painted upon their marriage, it had so happened that the coach-painter - whether by painting all his works with the left-hand, like Hans Holbein - or whether 'twas a blunder - or the sinister turn which everything relating to our family was apt to take - it happened that, instead of the bend-dexter, which since Harry the Eighth's reign was honestly our due, a bend-sinister, the emblem of a child born out of wedlock, had been drawn across the field of the Shandy coat of arms.
'Tis scarce credible that a man as wise as my father, could be so much incommoded with so small a matter. The word coach, or coach-man, or coach-horse, could never be named, without him complaining of carrying this vile mark of illegitimacy upon his own coach; he was never able to step in or out of it, without turning round to view the arms, and vowing that it was the last time he would ever set his foot in it, till the bend-sinister was removed. But like the hinge, it was destined ever to be grumbled at, and never to be mended.


--Has the _bend-sinister_ been brush'd out, I say? said my father. ----There has been nothing brush'd out, Sir, answered _Obadiah_, but the lining. We'll go o'horseback, said my father, turning to _Yorick_. ----Of all things in the world, except politicks, the clergy know the least of heraldry, said _Yorick_. --No matter for that, cried my father ----I should be sorry to appear with a blot in my escutcheon before them. --Never mind the _bend-sinister_, said my uncle _Toby_, putting on his tye-wig. ----No, indeed, said my father--you may go with my aunt _Dinah_ to a visitation with a _bend-sinister_, if you think fit --My poor uncle _Toby_ blush'd. My father was vexed at himself. ------No----my dear brother _Toby_, said my father, changing his tone----but the damp of the coach-lining about my loins, may give me the sciatica again, as it did _December_, _January_, and _February_ last _winter_--so if you please you shall ride my wife's pad----and as you are to preach, _Yorick_, you had better make the best of your way before----and leave me to take care of my brother _Toby_, and to follow at our own rates.

'Has the bend-sinister been brushed out?' said my father.
'No, Sir,' answered Obadiah.
'We'll go on horseback,' said my father, turning to Yorick.
'The clergy know nothing of heraldry,' said Yorick.
'No matter,' cried my father.
'Never mind the bend-sinister,' said my uncle Toby, putting on his tie-wig.
'No, indeed,' said my father. 'You may go with my aunt Dinah on a visit with a bend-sinister, if you think fit.'
My poor uncle blushed. My father was vexed at himself.
'No - my dear brother,' he said, changing his tone, 'but the damp of the coach may give me the sciatica again, - so if you please, you shall ride my wife's horse - and as you are to preach, Yorick, you had better make your way before us - and we shall follow at our own rates.'


Now the chapter I was obliged to tear out, was the description of this cavalcade, in which Corporal _Trim_ and _Obadiah_, upon two coach-horses a-breast, led the way as slow as a patrole----whilst my uncle _Toby_, in his laced regimentals and tye-wig, kept his rank with my father, in deep roads and dissertations alternately upon the advantage of learning and arms, as each could get the start.
--But the painting of this journey, upon reviewing it, appears to be so much above the stile and manner of anything else I have been able to paint in this book, that it could not have remained in it, without depreciating every other scene; and destroying at the same time that necessary equipoise and balance, (whether of good or bad) betwixt chapter and chapter, from whence the just proportions and harmony of the whole work results. For my own part, I am but just set up in the business, so know little about it--but, in my opinion, to write a book is for all the world like humming a song--but in tune with yourself, madam, 'tis no matter how high or how low you take it.
--This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that some of the lowest and flattest compositions pass off very well----(as _Yorick_ told my uncle _Toby_ one night) by siege. ----My uncle _Toby_ looked brisk at the sound of the word _siege_, but could make neither head or tail of it.
I'm to preach at court next Sunday, said _Homenas_----run over my notes----so I humm'd over doctor _Homenas's_ notes--the modulation's very well----'twill do, _Homenas_, if it holds on at this rate----so on I humm'd----and a tolerable tune I thought it was; and to this hour, may it please your reverences, had never found out how low, how flat, how spiritless and jejune it was, but that all of a sudden, up started an air in the middle of it, so fine, so rich, so heavenly, --it carried my soul up with it into the other world; now had I (as _Montaigne_ complained in a parallel accident)--had I found the declivity easy, or the ascent accessible------certes I had been outwitted. ------Your notes, _Homenas_, I should have said, are good notes; ----but it was so perpendicular a precipice------so wholly cut off from the rest of the work, that by the first note I humm'd I found myself flying into the other world, and from thence discovered the vale from whence I came, so deep, so low, and dismal, that I shall never have the heart to descend into it again.
[-->] A dwarf who brings a standard along with him to measure his own size--take my word, is a dwarf in more articles than one. --And so much for tearing out of chapters.

Now the chapter I was obliged to tear out, was the description of this cavalcade, in which Corporal Trim and Obadiah, upon two coach-horses, slowly led the way - whilst my uncle Toby, in his laced regimentals and tie-wig, rode alongside my father.
But the painting of this journey is so much above the style of anything else I have painted in this book, that it could not have remained here without depreciating every other scene; and destroying that necessary balance betwixt chapters, from which the harmony of the whole work results. I am only just set up in the business, so know little about it - but, in my opinion, to write a book is like humming a song - stay in tune with yourself, madam, no matter how high or how low you take it.
'I'm to preach at court next Sunday,' said Homenas; 'run over my notes.' So I hummed over his notes - and a tolerable tune I thought it, never noticing how low, flat, and spiritless it was, until all of a sudden, up started a melody in the middle of it, so fine, so rich, so heavenly - it carried my soul up into the other world. 'Your notes, Homenas,' I should have said, 'are good notes; - but it was so perpendicular a precipice - so cut off from the rest of the work, that I found myself flying into the other world, and discovered that the vale from which I had come was so deep and dismal, that I shall never have the heart to descend into it again.'
- And so much for tearing out of chapters.


I have a strong propensity in me to begin this chapter very nonsensically, and I will not baulk my fancy. --Accordingly I set off thus:
If the fixture of _Momus's_ glass in the human breast, according to the proposed emendation of that arch-critick, had taken place, ----first, This foolish consequence would certainly have followed, --That the very wisest and very gravest of us all, in one coin or other, must have paid window-money every day of our lives.
And, secondly, That had the said glass been there set up, nothing more would have been wanting, in order to have taken a man's character, but to have taken a chair and gone softly, as you would to a dioptrical beehive, and look'd in, --view'd the soul stark naked; --observed all her motions, --her machinations; --traced all her maggots from their first engendering to their crawling forth; --watched her loose in her frisks, her gambols, her capricios; and after some notice of her more solemn deportment, consequent upon such frisks, etc. ----then taken your pen and ink and set down nothing but what you had seen, and could have sworn to: --But this is an advantage not to be had by the biographer in this planet; --in the planet _Mercury_ (belike) it may be so, if not better still for him; ----for there the intense heat of the country, which is proved by computators, from its vicinity to the sun, to be more than equal to that of red-hot iron, --must, I think, long ago have vitrified the bodies of the inhabitants, (as the efficient cause) to suit them for the climate (which is the final cause); so that betwixt them both, all the tenements of their souls, from top to bottom, may be nothing else, for aught the soundest philosophy can shew to the contrary, but one fine transparent body of clear glass (bating the umbilical knot)--so that, till the inhabitants grow old and tolerably wrinkled, whereby the rays of light, in passing through them, become so monstrously refracted, ----or return reflected from their surfaces in such transverse lines to the eye, that a man cannot be seen through; --his soul might as well, unless for mere ceremony, or the trifling advantage which the umbilical point gave her, --might, upon all other accounts, I say, as well play the fool out o'doors as in her own house.
But this, as I said above, is not the case of the inhabitants of this earth; --our minds shine not through the body, but are wrapt up here in a dark covering of uncrystalized flesh and blood; so that, if we would come to the specific characters of them, we must go some other way to work.
Many, in good truth, are the ways, which human wit has been forced to take, to do this thing with exactness.
Some, for instance, draw all their characters with wind-instruments. --_Virgil_ takes notice of that way in the affair of _Dido_ and _neas_; --but it is as fallacious as the breath of fame; --and, moreover, bespeaks a narrow genius. I am not ignorant that the _Italians_ pretend to a mathematical exactness in their designations of one particular sort of character among them, from the _forte_ or _piano_ of a certain wind-instrument they use, --which they say is infallible. --I dare not mention the name of the instrument in this place; --'tis sufficient we have it amongst us, --but never think of making a drawing by it; --this is nigmatical, and intended to be so, at least _ad populum_: --And therefore, I beg, Madam, when you come here, that you read on as fast as you can, and never stop to make any inquiry about it.

I am inclined to begin this chapter very nonsensically. - Accordingly I set off thus:
If Momus's glass windows had been fixed in human breasts, as proposed by that mocking spirit of Greek mythology, so that men's thought might be laid bare; - then, the first consequence would have been, that all of us must have paid window-tax every day of our lives.
And the second; that nothing more would have been necessary to examine a man's character, but to have gone softly, as you would to a beehive, and looked in, - viewed the soul stark naked; observed her movements; traced all her maggots from their hatching to their crawling forth; - watched the soul's frisks and gambols; - and then to take your pen and set down what you had seen.
But this is an advantage not to be had by any biographer on this planet. In the planet Mercury, perhaps, it may be so, - for there the intense heat of the nearby sun must, I think, long ago have vitrified the bodies of the inhabitants, so that they may have fine transparent bodies of clear glass - until the inhabitants grow old and wrinkled, whereby the rays of light, in passing through them, become monstrously refracted, so that a man cannot be seen through.
But here on earth our minds shine not through the body, but are wrapped up in a dark covering of uncrystallised flesh and blood; so that if we would see the characters within, we must do it some other way.
Many are the ways in which human wit can do this.
Some, for instance, draw all their characters with wind-instruments. Virgil notes that way in the affair of Dido and Aeneas; but it is as false as the breath of fame. I know that the Italians pretend be able to exactly measure one particular sort of character, from the forte or piano of a certain wind-instrument they use, which they say is infallible. I dare not mention the name of the instrument; it's enough that we have it amongst us. -This is enigmatical, and intended to be so. I beg, Madam, that you read on as fast as you can, and do not stop to inquire about it.


There are others again, who will draw a man's character from no other helps in the world, but merely from his evacuations; --but this often gives a very incorrect outline, --unless, indeed, you take a sketch of his repletions too; and by correcting one drawing from the other, compound one good figure out of them both.
I should have no objection to this method, but that I think it must smell too strong of the lamp, --and be render'd still more operose, by forcing you to have an eye to the rest of his _Non-naturals_. ----Why the most natural actions of a man's life should be called his Non-naturals, --is another question.
There are others, fourthly, who disdain every one of these expedients; --not from any fertility of their own, but from the various ways of doing it, which they have borrowed from the honourable devices which the Pentagraphic Brethren[1.3] of the brush have shewn in taking copies. --These, you must know, are your great historians.
One of these you will see drawing a full-length character _against the light_; --that's illiberal, --dishonest, --and hard upon the character of the man who sits.
Others, to mend the matter, will make a drawing of you in the _Camera_; --that is most unfair of all, --because, _there_ you are sure to be represented in some of your most ridiculous attitudes.
To avoid all and every one of these errors in giving you my uncle _Toby's_ character, I am determined to draw it by no mechanical help whatever; ----nor shall my pencil be guided by any one wind-instrument which ever was blown upon, either on this, or on the other side of the _Alps_; --nor will I consider either his repletions or his discharges, --or touch upon his Non-naturals--but, in a word, I will draw my uncle _Toby's_ character from his HOBBY-HORSE.
[Footnote 1.3: Pentagraph, an instrument to copy Prints and Pictures mechanically, and in any proportion.]

There are others who will draw a man's character from his evacuations; but this often gives a very incorrect outline, unless you take a sketch of his in-goings too; and compound one good figure from them both.
I should have no objection to this method, but that I think it must smell too strong of the lamp, and be made wearisome by forcing you to have an eye to his natural actions.
There are others, fourthly, who disdain all these methods; not from any creativity of their own, but because they borrow the ideas of mechanical copyists. - These, you must know, are your great historians.
One of these you will see drawing a full-length character against the light; that's dishonest, and hard upon the character of the man who sits.
Others will make a drawing of you in the Camera Obscura - that is most unfair of all, because you are sure to be shown in your most ridiculous attitudes.
To avoid all these errors in giving you my uncle Toby's character, I am determined to draw it by no mechanical help whatever; nor shall my pencil be guided by any wind-instrument; nor will I consider either his repletions or his discharges, - but in a word, I will draw my uncle Toby's character from his Hobby-Horse.


----Boulogne! ----hah! ----so we are all got together----debtors and sinners before heaven; a jolly set of us--but I can't stay and quaff it off with you --I'm pursued myself like a hundred devils, and shall be overtaken, before I can well change horses: ----for heaven's sake, make haste----'Tis for high-treason, quoth a very little man, whispering as low as he could to a very tall man, that stood next him ----Or else for murder; quoth the tall man ----Well thrown, _Size-ace!_ quoth I. No; quoth a third, the gentleman has been committing----.
_Ah! ma chere fille!_ said I, as she tripp'd by from her matins--you look as rosy as the morning (for the sun was rising, and it made the compliment the more gracious) --No; it can't be that, quoth a fourth----(she made a curt'sy to me --I kiss'd my hand) 'tis debt, continued he: 'Tis certainly for debt; quoth a fifth; I would not pay that gentleman's debts, quoth _Ace_, for a thousand pounds; nor would I, quoth _Size_, for six times the sum --Well thrown, _Size-ace_, again! quoth I; --but I have no debt but the debt of NATURE, and I want but patience of her, and I will pay her every farthing I owe her ----How can you be so hard-hearted, MADAM, to arrest a poor traveller going along without molestation to any one upon his lawful occasions? do stop that death-looking, long-striding scoundrel of a scare-sinner, who is posting after me----he never would have followed me but for you----if it be but for a stage or two, just to give me start of him, I beseech you, madam----do, dear lady----
----Now, in troth, 'tis a great pity, quoth mine _Irish_ host, that all this good courtship should be lost; for the young gentlewoman has been after going out of hearing of it all along.----

- Boulogne! hah! - so we are all got together - a jolly set of debtors and sinners - but I can't stay with you - I'm pursued like a hundred devils, and shall be overtaken before I can change horses:- for heaven's sake, make haste-
''Tis for high-treason,' quoth a very little man, whispering to a tall man next to him.
'Or else for murder,' quoth the tall man.
'No', quoth a third; 'the gentleman has been committing-'
'Ah! ma chere fille!' said I, as she tripped by, 'you look as rosy as the morning,'
'No; 'tis debt,' quoth a fourth (she curtsied to me - I kissed my hand to her.)
''Tis certainly for debt,' quoth a fifth; 'I would not pay that gentleman's debts for a thousand pounds.'
'I have no debt,' quoth I, 'but the debt of Nature, and I will pay her every farthing I owe her - How can you be so hard-hearted, Madam, to arrest a poor traveller not harming anyone? do stop that death-looking, long-striding scoundrel who is following me - if only for a stage or two, just give me a head start, I beseech you, madam-'
'Now, 'tis a great pity,' quoth mine Irish host, 'that all this good courtship should be lost; for the young gentlewoman has been after going out of hearing.'


----Simpleton! quoth I.
----So you have nothing _else_ in _Boulogne_ worth seeing?
--By Jasus! there is the finest SEMINARY for the HUMANITIES----
--There cannot be a finer; quoth I.

'Simpleton!' quoth I. 'So you have nothing else in Boulogne worth seeing?'
'By Jasus! there is the finest Seminary for the Humanities.'
'There cannot be a finer,' quoth I.


When we arrived at the Chaise-vamper's House, Both the House and the shop were shut up; it was the eighth of _September_, the nativity of the blessed Virgin _Mary_, mother of God--
----Tantarra-ra-tan-tivi----the whole world was gone out a May-poling--frisking here--capering there----nobody cared a button for me or my remarks; so I sat me down upon a bench by the door, philosophating upon my condition: by a better fate than usually attends me, I had not waited half an hour, when the mistress came in to take the papilliotes from off her hair, before she went to the May-poles----
The _French_ women, by the bye, love May-poles, _ la folie_--that is, as much as their matins----give 'em but a May-pole, whether in _May_, _June_, _July_, or _September_--they never count the times----down it goes----'tis meat, drink, washing, and lodging to 'em----and had we but the policy, an' please your worships (as wood is a little scarce in _France_), to send them but plenty of May-poles----
The women would set them up; and when they had done, they would dance round them (and the men for company) till they were all blind.
The wife of the chaise-vamper stepp'd in, I told you, to take the papilliotes from off her hair----the toilet stands still for no man----so she jerk'd off her cap, to begin with them as she open'd the door, in doing which, one of them fell upon the ground ----I instantly saw it was my own writing----
O Seigneur! cried I--you have got all my remarks upon your head, Madam! ----_J'en suis bien mortifie_, said she----'tis well, thinks I, they have stuck there--for could they have gone deeper, they would have made such confusion in a _French_ woman's noddle --She had better have gone with it unfrizled, to the day of eternity.
_Tenez_--said she--so without any idea of the nature of my suffering, she took them from her curls, and put them gravely one by one into my hat----one was twisted this way----another twisted that----ey! by my faith; and when they are published, quoth I,----

When we arrived at the Chaise-vamper's house, it was shut up; it was the eighth of September, the nativity of the blessed Virgin Mary.
Tantarra-ra-tan-tivi - the whole world was gone out a Maypoling - frisking here - capering there - nobody cared a button for me or my remarks; so I sat down upon a bench by the door, philosophating upon my condition.
I had not waited half an hour, when the mistress came in to take the curling-papers from her hair, before she went to the Maypoles-
The French women, by the bye, love Maypoles, at any time of year - give 'em but a Maypole, down it goes - 'tis meat, drink, washing, and lodging to 'em - and if we but had the policy to send plenty of Maypoles to France, the women would dance round them (with the men for company) till they were all blind.
The wife of the chaise-vamper came in, and jerked off her cap, to begin removing her curling-papers from her hair. One of them fell upon the ground - I instantly saw it was my writing-
'O! you have got my remarks upon your head, Madam!' cried I.
'J'en suis bien mortifie,' said she.
'Twas as well they stuck there - for if they had gone deeper, they would have made such confusion in a Frenchwoman's noddle that she would have been better off unfrizzled.
'Tenez,' said she - and taking them from her curls, she put them gravely one by one into my hat - one twisted this way - and one that-
'By my faith,' quoth I, 'when they are published,


As the point was that night agreed, or rather determined, that my mother should lye-in of me in the country, she took her measures accordingly; for which purpose, when she was three days, or thereabouts, gone with child, she began to cast her eyes upon the midwife, whom you have so often heard me mention; and before the week was well got round, as the famous Dr. _Manningham_ was not to be had, she had come to a final determination in her mind, ----notwithstanding there was a scientific operator within so near a call as eight miles of us, and who, moreover, had expressly wrote a five shillings book upon the subject of midwifery, in which he had exposed, not only the blunders of the sisterhood itself, ----but had likewise superadded many curious improvements for the quicker extraction of the ftus in cross births, and some other cases of danger, which belay us in getting into the world; notwithstanding all this, my mother, I say, was absolutely determined to trust her life, and mine with it, into no soul's hand but this old woman's only. --Now this I like; --when we cannot get at the very thing we wish----never to take up with the next best in degree to it: --no; that's pitiful beyond description; --it is no more than a week from this very day, in which I am now writing this book for the edification of the world; --which is _March_ 9, 1759, ----that my dear, dear _Jenny_, observing I looked a little grave, as she stood cheapening a silk of five-and-twenty shillings a yard, --told the mercer, she was sorry she had given him so much trouble; --and immediately went and bought herself a yard-wide stuff of tenpence a yard. --'Tis the duplication of one and the same greatness of soul; only what lessened the honour of it, somewhat, in my mother's case, was, that she could not heroine it into so violent and hazardous an extreme, as one in her situation might have wished, because the old widwife had really some little claim to be depended upon, --as much, at least, as success could give her; having, in the course of her practice of near twenty years in the parish, brought every mother's son of them into the world without any one slip or accident which could fairly be laid to her account.
These facts, tho' they had their weight, yet did not altogether satisfy some few scruples and uneasinesses which hung upon my father's spirits in relation to this choice. --To say nothing of the natural workings of humanity and justice--or of the yearnings of parental and connubial love, all which prompted him to leave as little to hazard as possible in a case of this kind; ----he felt himself concerned in a particular manner, that all should go right in the present case; --from the accumulated sorrow he lay open to, should any evil betide his wife and child in lying-in at _Shandy-Hall_. ----He knew the world judged by events, and would add to his afflictions in such a misfortune, by loading him with the whole blame of it. ----"Alas, o'day; --had Mrs. _Shandy_, poor gentlewoman! had but her wish in going up to town just to lye-in and come down again; --which, they say, she begged and prayed for upon her bare knees, ----and which, in my opinion, considering the fortune which Mr. _Shandy_ got with her, --was no such mighty matter to have complied with, the lady and her babe might both of them have been alive at this hour."
This exclamation, my father knew, was unanswerable; --and yet, it was not merely to shelter himself, --nor was it altogether for the care of his offspring and wife that he seemed so extremely anxious about this point; --my father had extensive views of things, ----and stood moreover, as he thought, deeply concerned in it for the publick good, from the dread he entertained of the bad uses an ill-fated instance might be put to.
He was very sensible that all political writers upon the subject had unanimously agreed and lamented, from the beginning of Queen _Elizabeth's_ reign down to his own time, that the current of men and money towards the metropolis, upon one frivolous errand or another, --set in so strong, --as to become dangerous to our civil rights, --though, by the bye, ----a _current_ was not the image he took most delight in, --a _distemper_ was here his favourite metaphor, and he would run it down into a perfect allegory, by maintaining it was identically the same in the body national as in the body natural where the blood and spirits were driven up into the head faster than they could find their ways down; ----a stoppage of circulation must ensue, which was death in both cases.

As it was that night agreed, or rather determined, that my mother should lie-in with me at home in the country, she planned accordingly. When she was three days, or thereabouts, gone with child, she began to think about the midwife, whom you have so often heard me mention; and before the week was through, she had come to a decision; - even though there was a scientific operator within eight miles of us, who had wrote a five shilling book upon midwifery, in which he had not only exposed the blunders of midwives, but had added many curious improvements for the quicker extraction of the foetus in cases of danger. Despite this, my mother was absolutely determined to trust her life, and mine with it, into the old woman's hand only.
- Now this I like; when we cannot get the exact thing we wish, never to make do with the next best: - no; that's pitiful beyond description; it was only a week ago from this very day, - which is March 9, 1759 - that my dear, dear Jenny, observing I looked a little grave, as she stood fingering a silk at five-and-twenty shillings a yard, told the mercer she was sorry she had given him so much trouble; and immediately went and bought herself stuff at tenpence a yard. 'Tis the same greatness of soul; only in my mother's case, she could not heroine it as she might have wished, because the old midwife had really some claim to be depended upon, having had near twenty years' success in the parish, without one accident which could be laid to her account.
Nevertheless, my father had some uneasiness about this choice. Quite apart from his love for his family, he felt himself particularly concerned that all should go right in this case; - because of the extra sorrow he lay open to, should any evil befall his wife and child in lying-in at Shandy-Hall. He knew that in such a misfortune, the world would add to his afflictions by loading him with the whole blame of it.
- 'Alas, had Mrs. Shandy, poor lady! only had her wish of going up to town to lie-in, which, they say, she begged for upon her knees, and which considering the fortune which Mr. Shandy got with her, was no great matter - the lady and her babe might both have been alive at this hour.'
This, my father knew, would be unanswerable. Yet it was not merely to shelter himself, nor through care for his offspring and wife, that he was so extremely anxious about this point. My father had extensive views of things, and dreaded setting a bad example to the public.
He was aware that all political writers had agreed and lamented for centuries that the current of men and money towards the metropolis, upon one frivolous errand or another, was so great as to become dangerous to our civil rights, - though, by the bye, a current was not the image he preferred: a distemper was here his favourite metaphor. He would turn it into a perfect allegory, by maintaining that in the body national, just as in the body natural, when the blood was driven up into the head faster than it could find its way down, the circulation must stop, and death follow.


There was little danger, he would say, of losing our liberties by _French_ politicks or _French_ invasions; ----nor was he so much in pain of a consumption from the mass of corrupted matter and ulcerated humours in our constitution, which he hoped was not so bad as it was imagined; --but he verily feared, that in some violent push, we should go off, all at once, in a state-apoplexy; --and then he would say, _The Lord have mercy upon us all_.
My father was never able to give the history of this distemper, --without the remedy along with it.
"Was I an absolute prince," he would say, pulling up his breeches with both his hands, as he rose from his arm-chair, "I would appoint able judges, at every avenue of my metropolis, who should take cognizance of every fool's business who came there; --and if, upon a fair and candid hearing, it appeared not of weight sufficient to leave his own home, and come up, bag and baggage, with his wife and children, farmer's sons, &c., &c., at his backside, they should be all sent back, from constable to constable, like vagrants as they were, to the place of their legal settlements. By this means I shall take care, that my metropolis totter'd not thro' its own weight; --that the head be no longer too big for the body; --that the extremes, now wasted and pinn'd in, be restored to their due share of nourishment, and regain with it their natural strength and beauty: --I would effectually provide, That the meadows and corn-fields of my dominions, should laugh and sing; --that good chear and hospitality flourish once more; --and that such weight and influence be put thereby into the hands of the Squirality of my kingdom, as should counterpoise what I perceive my Nobility are now taking from them.
"Why are there so few palaces and gentlemen's seats," he would ask, with some emotion, as he walked across the room, "throughout so many delicious provinces in _France?_ Whence is it that the few remaining _Chateaus_ amongst them are so dismantled, --so unfurnished, and in so ruinous and desolate a condition? ----Because, Sir," (he would say) "in that kingdom no man has any country-interest to support; --the little interest of any kind which any man has anywhere in it, is concentrated in the court, and the looks of the Grand Monarch: by the sunshine of whose countenance, or the clouds which pass across it, every _French_ man lives or dies."
Another political reason which prompted my father so strongly to guard against the least evil accident in my mother's lying-in in the country, ----was, That any such instance would infallibly throw a balance of power, too great already, into the weaker vessels of the gentry, in his own, or higher stations; ----which, with the many other usurped rights which that part of the constitution was hourly establishing, --would, in the end, prove fatal to the monarchical system of domestick government established in the first creation of things by God.
In this point he was entirely of Sir _Robert Filmer's_ opinion, That the plans and institutions of the greatest monarchies in the eastern parts of the world were, originally, all stolen from that admirable pattern and prototype of this household and paternal power; --which, for a century, he said, and more, had gradually been degenerating away into a mix'd government; ----the form of which, however desirable in great combinations of the species, ----was very troublesome in small ones, --and seldom produced anything, that he saw, but sorrow and confusion.

There was little danger, he would say, of French invasions; nor was he pained by corruption in our constitution, which he hoped was not so bad as was imagined; but he feared that in some violent push, we should go off, all at once, in a state-apoplexy.
My father was never able to give the history of this distemper, without the remedy along with it.
'If I were an absolute monarch,' he would say, hitching up his breeches as he rose from his arm-chair, 'I would appoint judges, at every avenue of my metropolis, who should note every fool's business who came there; and if it was not important enough to leave his own home, they should be all sent back, like vagrants, to the place of origin. By this means I should take care that my metropolis did not totter through its own weight. The head should be no longer too big for the body; the limbs should regain their natural strength. Good cheer and hospitality should flourish once more; and country Squires acquire more influence.
'Why are there so few palaces and gentlemen's seats in the French provinces?' he would continue, with some emotion. 'Why are the few remaining Chateaus in so ruinous a condition? Because, Sir, in that kingdom all interest is concentrated in the court, and the looks of the Grand Monarch: by whose moods every Frenchman lives or dies.'
Another political reason which prompted my father to guard against the least evil accident in my mother's lying-in in the country, was that any such event would throw a balance of power into the weaker vessels of the gentry. This would, in the end, prove fatal to the monarchical system of domestic government established in the first creation of things by God.
In this point he was entirely of Sir Robert Filmer's opinion, that the institutions of the greatest monarchies in the eastern parts of the world were, originally, all stolen from that admirable prototype of Great Britain; which, for a century, he said, had gradually been degenerating into a mixed government, which seldom produced anything but sorrow and confusion.


For all these reasons, private and publick, put together, --my father was for having the man-midwife by all means, --my mother by no means. My father begg'd and intreated she would for once recede from her prerogative in this matter, and suffer him to choose for her; --my mother, on the contrary, insisted upon her privilege in this matter, to choose for herself, --and have no mortal's help but the old woman's. --What could my father do? He was almost at his wit's end; ----talked it over with her in all moods; --placed his arguments in all lights; --argued the matter with her like a christian, --like a heathen, --like a husband, --like a father, --like a patriot, --like a man: --My mother answered everything only like a woman; which was a little hard upon her; --for as she could not assume and fight it out behind such a variety of characters, --'twas no fair match: --'twas seven to one. --What could my mother do? ----She had the advantage (otherwise she had been certainly overpowered) of a small reinforcement of chagrin personal at the bottom, which bore her up, and enabled her to dispute the affair with my father with so equal an advantage, ----that both sides sung _Te Deum_. In a word, my mother was to have the old woman, --and the operator was to have licence to drink a bottle of wine with my father and my uncle _Toby Shandy_ in the back parlour, --for which he was to be paid five guineas.

For all these reasons, my father was for having the man-midwife by all means, - my mother by no means. My father begged she would for once give up her prerogative in this matter, and let him choose for her; - my mother, on the contrary, insisted upon her privilege to choose for herself, and have no help but the old woman's.
What could my father do? He was almost at his wit's end; talked it over with her in all moods; argued the matter with her like a Christian, - like a heathen, - like a husband, - like a father, - like a patriot, - like a man. My mother answered everything only like a woman; which was a little hard upon her; for as she could not fight it out behind such a variety of characters, 'twas no fair match: - 'twas seven to one.
What could my mother do? She had the advantage of a small reinforcement of personal chagrin, which bore her up, and enabled her to dispute the affair with my father on equal terms. In a word, my mother was to have the old woman, and the man-midwife was to have licence to drink a bottle of wine with my father and my uncle Toby in the back parlour, - for which he was to be paid five guineas.


I must beg leave, before I finish this chapter, to enter a caveat in the breast of my fair reader; --and it is this, ----Not to take it absolutely for granted, from an unguarded word or two which I have dropp'd in it, ----"That I am a married man." --I own, the tender appellation of my dear, dear _Jenny_, --with some other strokes of conjugal knowledge, interspersed here and there, might, naturally enough, have misled the most candid judge in the world into such a determination against me. --All I plead for, in this case, Madam, is strict justice, and that you do so much of it, to me as well as to yourself, --as not to prejudge, or receive such an impression of me, till you have better evidence, than, I am positive, at present can be produced against me. --Not that I can be so vain or unreasonable, Madam, as to desire you should therefore think, that my dear, dear _Jenny_ is my kept mistress; --no, --that would be flattering my character in the other extreme, and giving it an air of freedom, which, perhaps, it has no kind of right to. All I contend for, is the utter impossibility, for some volumes, that you, or the most penetrating spirit upon earth, should know how this matter really stands. --It is not impossible, but that my dear, dear _Jenny!_ tender as the appellation is, may be my child. ----Consider, --I was born in the year eighteen. --Nor is there anything unnatural or extravagant in the supposition, that my dear _Jenny_ may be my friend. --Friend! --My friend.

Before I finish this chapter, I must warn my fair reader not to take it for granted, from an unguarded word or two which I have dropped in, that I am a married man. The tender mention of my dear, dear Jenny, with some other touches of conjugal knowledge here and there, might have misled the most candid judge into such a presumption. All I plead for, Madam, is strict justice: do not prejudge till you have better evidence than you have at present.
Not that I wish you to think that my dear, dear Jenny is my kept mistress; - no, that would be flattering my character in the other extreme, and giving it a freedom, which, perhaps, it has no right to. All I aim for, is the utter impossibility, for some volumes, that you should know how this matter really stands. For my dear, dear Jenny! may perhaps be my child. Consider - I was born in the year 1718. - Nor is there anything unnatural in the idea that my dear Jenny may be my friend.
- Friend!
- My friend.


--Surely, Madam, a friendship between the two sexes may subsist, and be supported without ------Fy! Mr. _Shandy_: --Without anything, Madam, but that tender and delicious sentiment, which ever mixes in friendship, where there is a difference of sex. Let me intreat you to study the pure and sentimental parts of the best _French_ Romances; --it will really, Madam, astonish you to see with what a variety of chaste expressions this delicious sentiment, which I have the honour to speak of, is dress'd out.

Surely, Madam, a friendship between the two sexes may exist without-
- Fie! Mr. Shandy.
- Without anything, Madam, but that tender and delicious sentiment which always mixes in friendship, where there is a difference of sex. Let me entreat you to read the best French Romances; it will really, Madam, astonish you to see with what a variety of chaste expressions this delicious sentiment is dressed out.


The _French_ are certainly misunderstood: ----but whether the fault is theirs, in not sufficiently explaining themselves; or speaking with that exact limitation and precision which one would expect on a point of such importance, and which, moreover, is so likely to be contested by us----or whether the fault may not be altogether on our side, in not understanding their language always so critically as to know "what they would be at" ----I shall not decide; but 'tis evident to me, when they affirm, "_That they who have seen _Paris_, have seen everything_," they must mean to speak of those who have seen it by day-light.
As for candle-light --I give it up ----I have said before, there was no depending upon it--and I repeat it again; but not because the lights and shades are too sharp--or the tints confounded--or that there is neither beauty or keeping, &c. . . . for that's not truth--but it is an uncertain light in this respect, That in all the five hundred grand Htels, which they number up to you in _Paris_--and the five hundred good things, at a modest computation (for 'tis only allowing one good thing to a Htel), which by candle-light are best to be _seen_, _felt_, _heard_, and _understood_ (which, by the bye, is a quotation from _Lilly_)----the devil a one of us out of fifty, can get our heads fairly thrust in amongst them.
This is no part of the _French_ computation: 'tis simply this,
That by the last survey taken in the year one thousand seven hundred and sixteen, since which time there have been considerable argumentations, _Paris_ doth contain nine hundred streets; (viz.)

The French are certainly misunderstood: but whether the fault is theirs, in not sufficiently explaining themselves, or speaking too precisely - or whether the fault is on our side, in not understanding their language well enough - I shall not decide. But 'tis evident to me, when people say 'That they who have seen Paris, have seen everything,' they must mean those who have seen it by day-light.
As for candle-light - I give it up - there was no depending upon it; in all the five hundred grand Hotels in Paris, and the five hundred good things (allowing one good thing to a Hotel), which by candle-light are best to be seen, felt, heard, and understood (which, by the bye, is a quotation from Lilly) - barely one of us out of fifty can get our heads thrust in amongst them.
'Tis simply this,
That by the last survey taken in the year 1716, Paris did contain nine hundred streets; (viz.)


In the quarter called the _City_--there are fifty-three streets. In St. _James_ of the Shambles, fifty-five streets. In St. _Oportune_, thirty-four streets. In the quarter of the _Louvre_, twenty-five streets. In the _Palace Royal_, or St. _Honorius_, forty-nine streets. In _Mont. Martyr_, forty-one streets. In St. _Eustace_, twenty-nine streets. In the _Halles_, twenty-seven streets. In St. _Dennis_, fifty-five streets.

In the quarter called the City, there are fifty-three streets.
In St. James of the Shambles, fifty-five streets.
In St. Oportune, thirty-four streets.
In the quarter of the Louvre, twenty-five streets.
In the Palace Royal, or St. Honorius, forty-nine streets.
In Mont. Martyr, forty-one streets.
In St. Eustace, twenty-nine streets.
In the Halles, twenty-seven streets.
In St. Dennis, fifty-five streets.


In St. _Martin_, fifty-four streets. In St. _Paul_, or the _Mortellerie_, twenty-seven streets. The _Greve_, thirty-eight streets. In St. _Avoy_, or the _Verrerie_, nineteen streets. In the _Marais_, or the _Temple_, fifty-two streets. In St. _Antony's_, sixty-eight streets. In the _Place Maubert_, eighty-one streets. In St. _Bennet_, sixty streets. In St. _Andrews de Arcs_, fifty-one streets. In the quarter of the _Luxembourg_, sixty-two streets.


And in that of St. Germain, fifty-five streets, into any of which you may walk; and that when you have seen them with all that belongs to them, fairly by day-light--their gates, their bridges, their squares, their statues - - - and have crusaded it moreover, through all their parish-churches, by no means omitting St. _Roche_ and _Sulpice_ - - - and to crown all, have taken a walk to the four palaces, which you may see, either with or without the statues and pictures, just as you chuse--
----Then you will have seen----
----but, 'tis what no one needeth to tell you, for you will read of it yourself upon the portico of the _Louvre_, in these words,
[7.3]EARTH NO SUCH FOLKS! --NO FOLKS E'ER SUCH A TOWN AS PARIS IS! --SING, DERRY, DERRY, DOWN.
The _French_ have a _gay_ way of treating everything that is Great; and that is all can be said upon it.
[Footnote 7.3: Non orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam --------ulla parem.]

And in a further ten quarters, five hundred and thirteen streets, into any of which you may walk; and when you have seen them by day-light - their gates, bridges, squares, and statues - and have crusaded moreover, through all their parish-churches, - and to crown all, have taken a walk to the four palaces-
Then you will have seen-
- but no one needs tell you what, for you will read of it yourself upon the portico of the Louvre, in these words,
EARTH NO SUCH FOLKS!
NO FOLKS E'ER SUCH A TOWN AS PARIS IS!
SING, DERRY, DERRY, DOWN.
Non orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam - - - ulla parem.
The French have a gay way of treating everything that is Great; and that is all that can be said.


Dear _Yorick_, said my father, smiling (for _Yorick_ had broke his rank with my uncle _Toby_ in coming through the narrow entry, and so had stept first into the parlour)--this _Tristram_ of ours, I find, comes very hardly by all his religious rites. --Never was the son of _Jew_, _Christian_, _Turk_, or _Infidel_ initiated into them in so oblique and slovenly a manner. --But he is no worse, I trust, said _Yorick_. --There has been certainly, continued my father, the deuce and all to do in some part or other of the ecliptic, when this offspring of mine was formed. --That, you are a better judge of than I, replied _Yorick_. --Astrologers, quoth my father, know better than us both: --the trine and sextil aspects have jumped awry, --or the opposite of their ascendants have not hit it, as they should, --or the lords of the genitures (as they call them) have been at _bo-peep_, --or something has been wrong above, or below with us.

'Dear Yorick,' said my father, smiling (for Yorick had come into the parlour with my uncle Toby) - 'this Tristram of ours, I find, comes very hardly by his religious rites. Never was the son of Jew, Christian, Turk or Infidel initiated into them in so slovenly a manner.'
'But he is none the worse, I trust,' said Yorick.
'There has certainly,' continued my father, 'been the devil and all to do in his stars, when this offspring of mine was made.'
'You are a better judge of that than I,' replied Yorick.
'Astrologers know better than us both,' quoth my father; 'the trine and sextil aspects have jumped awry, or the lords of the genitures (as they call them) have been at bo-peep.'


'Tis possible, answered _Yorick_. --But is the child, cried my uncle _Toby_, the worse? --The _Troglodytes_ say not, replied my father. And your theologists, _Yorick_, tell us --Theologically? said _Yorick_, --or speaking after the manner of apothecaries?[5.3]--statesmen?[5.4]--or washer-women?[5.5]
----I'm not sure, replied my father, --but they tell us, brother _Toby_, he's the better for it. ----Provided, said _Yorick_, you travel him into _Egypt_. ----Of that, answered my father, he will have the advantage, when he sees the _Pyramids_.----

''Tis possible,' answered Yorick.
'But is the child,' cried my uncle Toby, 'any the worse?'
'The Troglodytes say not,' replied my father. 'And your theologists, Yorick, tell us he's the better for it.'
'Provided,' said Yorick, 'you travel him into Egypt.'
'Of that,' answered my father, 'he will have the advantage, when he sees the Pyramids.'


Now every word of this, quoth my uncle _Toby_, is _Arabick_ to me. ----I wish, said _Yorick_, 'twas so, to half the world.
----ILUS,[5.6] continued my father, circumcised his whole army one morning. --Not without a court martial? cried my uncle _Toby_. ----Though the learned, continued he, taking no notice of my uncle _Toby's_ remark, but turning to _Yorick_, --are greatly divided still who _Ilus_ was; --some say _Saturn_; --some the Supreme Being; --others, no more than a brigadier general under _Pharaoh-neco_. ----Let him be who he will, said my uncle _Toby_, I know not by what article of war he could justify it.

'Now every word of this,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'is Arabic to me.'
'Ilus,' continued my father, 'circumcised his whole army one morning.'
'Not without a court martial?' cried my uncle.
'Though the learned,' continued my father, taking no notice of my uncle's remark, but turning to Yorick, 'are greatly divided as to who Ilus was; some say Saturn; some the Supreme Being; - others, no more than a brigadier general under the Pharaoh.'
'Whoever he was,' said my uncle Toby, 'I know not by what article of war he could justify it.'


The controvertists, answered my father, assign two-and-twenty different reasons for it: --others, indeed, who have drawn their pens on the opposite side of the question, have shewn the world the futility of the greatest part of them. --But then again, our best polemic divines --I wish there was not a polemic divine, said _Yorick_, in the kingdom; --one ounce of practical divinity--is worth a painted ship-load of all their reverences have imported these fifty years. --Pray, Mr. _Yorick_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, --do tell me what a polemic divine is? ----The best description, captain _Shandy_, I have ever read, is of a couple of 'em, replied _Yorick_, in the account of the battle fought single hands betwixt _Gymnast_ and captain _Tripet_; which I have in my pocket. ----I beg I may hear it, quoth my uncle _Toby_ earnestly. --You shall, said _Yorick_. --And as the corporal is waiting for me at the door, --and I know the description of a battle will do the poor fellow more good than his supper, --I beg, brother, you'll give him leave to come in. --With all my soul, said my father. ----_Trim_ came in, erect and happy as an emperor; and having shut the door, _Yorick_ took a book from his right-hand coat-pocket, and read, or pretended to read, as follows.

'Historians,' answered my father, 'give two-and-twenty different reasons for it: - others have shown how futile most of these are. But then again, our best polemic divines-'
'I wish there was not a polemic divine in the kingdom,' said Yorick. 'One ounce of practical divinity is worth a painted ship-load of all that their reverences have imported these fifty years.'
'Pray, Mr. Yorick,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'do tell me what a polemic divine is?'
'The best description I have read, captain Shandy,' replied Yorick, 'is the account of a couple of 'em in the battle fought hand to hand betwixt Gymnast and captain Tripet; which I have in my pocket.'
'May I hear it?' asked my uncle Toby earnestly.
'You shall,' said Yorick.
'As the corporal is waiting for me at the door, and I know the description of a battle will do the poor fellow more good than his supper, I beg, brother, you'll let him come in.'
'With all my soul,' said my father.
Trim came in, erect and happy as an emperor; and having shut the door, Yorick took a book from his coat-pocket, and read, or pretended to read, as follows.


[Footnote 5.3: , , . --PHILO.]
[Footnote 5.4: , .]
[Footnote 5.5: . --BOCHART.]
[Footnote 5.6: , , ' . --SANCHUNIATHO.]


Well! dear brother _Toby_, said my father, upon his first seeing him after he fell in love--and how goes it with your ASSE?
Now my uncle _Toby_ thinking more of the _part_ where he had had the blister, than of _Hilarion's_ metaphor--and our preconceptions having (you know) as great a power over the sounds of words as the shapes of things, he had imagined, that my father, who was not very ceremonious in his choice of words, had enquired after the part by its proper name; so notwithstanding my mother, doctor _Slop_, and Mr. _Yorick_, were sitting in the parlour, he thought it rather civil to conform to the term my father had made use of than not. When a man is hemm'd in by two indecorums, and must commit one of 'em --I always observe--let him chuse which he will, the world will blame him--so I should not be astonished if it blames my uncle _Toby_.
My A--e, quoth my uncle _Toby_, is much better--brother _Shandy_ --My father had formed great expectations from his Asse in this onset; and would have brought him on again; but doctor _Slop_ setting up an intemperate laugh--and my mother crying out L-- bless us! --it drove my father's Asse off the field--and the laugh then becoming general--there was no bringing him back to the charge, for some time----
And so the discourse went on without him.
Everybody, said my mother, says you are in love, brother _Toby_, --and we hope it is true.

'Well! dear brother Toby,' said my father, upon first seeing him after he fell in love - 'and how goes it with your Ass?'
Now my uncle Toby, thinking more of the part where he had the blister than of the hermit's metaphor, imagined that my father, who was not very ceremonious in his choice of words, had enquired after the part by its proper name. So although my mother, doctor Slop and Mr. Yorick were sitting in the parlour, he thought it civil to reply using the same term as my father.
'My A__e,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'is much better, brother Shandy.'
My father had formed great expectations from his Ass in this onset; and would have said more, but doctor Slop setting up an intemperate laugh - and my mother crying out, 'L__d bless us!' - it drove my father's Ass off the field - and the laugh then becoming general, there was no bringing him back to the charge for some time.
And so the discourse went on without him.
'Everybody,' said my mother, 'says you are in love, brother Toby, and we hope it is true.'


I am as much in love, sister, I believe, replied my uncle _Toby_, as any man usually is ----Humph! said my father----and when did you know it? quoth my mother----
----When the blister broke; replied my uncle _Toby_.
My uncle _Toby's_ reply put my father into good temper--so he charg'd o' foot.

'I am as much in love, I believe,' replied he, 'as any man usually is.'
'Humph!' said my father.
'And when did you know it?' asked my mother.
'When the blister broke,' replied my uncle Toby.
My uncle Toby's reply put my father into good temper - so he charged on foot.


----"Now what can their two noddles be about?" cried my father - - &c. - - - -
I dare say, said my mother, they are making fortifications----
------Not on Mrs. _Wadman's_ premises! cried my father, stepping back----
I suppose not: quoth my mother.
I wish, said my father, raising his voice, the whole science of fortification at the devil, with all its trumpery of saps, mines, blinds, gabions, fausse-brays and cuvetts------
----They are foolish things----said my mother.
Now she had a way, which, by the bye, I would this moment give away my purple jerkin, and my yellow slippers into the bargain, if some of your reverences would imitate--and that was, never to refuse her assent and consent to any proposition my father laid before her, merely because she did not understand it, or had no ideas of the principal word or term of art, upon which the tenet or proposition rolled. She contented herself with doing all that her godfathers and godmothers promised for her--but no more; and so would go on using a hard word twenty years together--and replying to it too, if it was a verb, in all its moods and tenses, without giving herself any trouble to enquire about it.

'Now what can their two noddles be about?'
'I dare say,' said my mother, 'they are making fortifications.'
'Not on Mrs. Wadman's premises!' cried my father.
'I suppose not,' quoth my mother.
'I wish,' said my father, raising his voice, 'the whole science of fortification at the devil, with all its trumpery of saps, mines, blinds, gabions, and cuvetts-'
'They are foolish things,' said my mother.
Now my mother would never disagree to any proposition my father laid before her, merely because she did not understand it, or had no ideas of the meaning of the terms upon which the proposition rolled. She would go on using a hard word twenty years together, without giving herself any trouble to enquire about it.


This was an eternal source of misery to my father, and broke the neck, at the first setting out, of more good dialogues between them, than could have done the most petulant contradiction----the few which survived were the better for the _cuvetts_----
--"They are foolish things;" said my mother.
----Particularly the _cuvetts_; replied my father.
'Tis enough--he tasted the sweet of triumph--and went on.
--Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs. _Wadman's_ premises, said my father, partly correcting himself--because she is but tenant for life----
----That makes a great difference--said my mother----
--In a fool's head, replied my father----
Unless she should happen to have a child--said my mother--
----But she must persuade my brother _Toby_ first to get her one--
----To be sure, Mr. _Shandy_, quoth my mother.

This was an eternal source of misery to my father, and cut short more good dialogues between them, than the most petulant contradiction could have done. The few which survived were the better for the cuvetts - the ditches within ditches.
'They are foolish things;' said my mother.
'Particularly the cuvetts,' replied my father.
He tasted the sweet of triumph - and went on.
'Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs. Wadman's premises,' said my father, 'because she is only tenant for life.'
'That makes a great difference,' said my mother.
'In a fool's head,' replied my father.
'Unless she should happen to have a child,' said my mother.
'But she must persuade my brother Toby first to get her one.'
'To be sure,' quoth my mother.


----Though if it comes to persuasion--said my father --Lord have mercy upon them.
Amen: said my mother, _piano_.
Amen: cried my father, _fortissim_.
Amen: said my mother again----but with such a sighing cadence of personal pity at the end of it, as discomfited every fibre about my father--he instantly took out his almanack; but before he could untie it, _Yorick's_ congregation coming out of church, became a full answer to one half of his business with it--and my mother telling him it was a sacrament day--left him as little in doubt, as to the other part --He put his almanack into his pocket.
The first Lord of the Treasury thinking of _ways and means_, could not have returned home with a more embarrassed look.

'Though if it comes to persuasion,' said my father, 'Lord have mercy upon them.'
'Amen,' said my mother, piano.
'Amen,' cried my father, fortissimo.
'Amen,' said my mother again - but with such a sigh of personal pity, as discomfited every fibre of my father. He instantly took out his almanac; but before he could look in it, Yorick's congregation coming out of church, answered half of his business with it - and my mother telling him it was a sacrament day answered the other half.
My father, remiss in not attending church, put his almanac into his pocket, and returned home with a most embarrassed look.


Though my father was hugely tickled with the subtleties of these learned discourses------'twas still but like the anointing of a broken bone ------The moment he got home, the weight of his afflictions returned upon him but so much the heavier, as is ever the case when the staff we lean on slips from under us. --He became pensive--walked frequently forth to the fish-pond--let down one loop of his hat----sigh'd often----forbore to snap--and, as the hasty sparks of temper, which occasion snapping, so much assist perspiration and digestion, as _Hippocrates_ tells us--he had certainly fallen ill with the extinction of them, had not his thoughts been critically drawn off, and his health rescued by a fresh train of disquietudes left him, with a legacy of a thousand pounds, by my aunt _Dinah_.
My father had scarce read the letter, when taking the thing by the right end, he instantly began to plague and puzzle his head how to lay it out mostly to the honour of his family. --A hundred-and-fifty odd projects took possession of his brains by turns--he would do this, and that, and t'other --He would go to _Rome_----he would go to law----he would buy stock----he would buy _John Hobson's_ farm--he would new fore-front his house, and add a new wing to make it even ----There was a fine water-mill on this side, and he would build a wind-mill on the other side of the river in full view to answer it --But above all things in the world, he would inclose the great _Ox-moor_, and send out my brother _Bobby_ immediately upon his travels.
But as the sum was _finite_, and consequently could not do everything----and in truth very few of these to any purpose--of all the projects which offered themselves upon this occasion, the two last seemed to make the deepest impression; and he would infallibly have determined upon both at once, but for the small inconvenience hinted at above, which absolutely put him under a necessity of deciding in favour either of the one or the other.
This was not altogether so easy to be done; for though 'tis certain my father had long before set his heart upon this necessary part of my brother's education, and like a prudent man had actually determined to carry it into execution, with the first money that returned from the second creation of actions in the _Missisippi_-scheme, in which he was an adventurer----yet the _Ox-moor_, which was a fine, large, whinny, undrained, unimproved common, belonging to the _Shandy_-estate, had almost as old a claim upon him: he had long and affectionately set his heart upon turning it likewise to some account.
But having never hitherto been pressed with such a conjuncture of things, as made it necessary to settle either the priority or justice of their claims----like a wise man he had refrained entering into any nice or critical examination about them: so that upon the dismission of every other project at this crisis------the two old projects, the OX-MOOR and my BROTHER, divided him again; and so equal a match were they for each other, as to become the occasion of no small contest in the old gentleman's mind--which of the two should be set o'going first.
----People may laugh as they will--but the case was this.
It had ever been the custom of the family, and by length of time was almost become a matter of common right, that the eldest son of it should have free ingress, egress, and regress into foreign parts before marriage--not only for the sake of bettering his own private parts, by the benefit of exercise and change of so much air--but simply for the mere delectation of his fancy, by the feather put into his cap, of having been abroad--_tantum valet_, my father would say, _quantum sonat_.
Now as this was a reasonable, and in course a most christian indulgence----to deprive him of it, without why or wherefore----and thereby make an example of him, as the first _Shandy_ unwhirl'd about _Europe_ in a post-chaise, and only because he was a heavy lad----would be using him ten times worse than a Turk.

Though my father was hugely tickled with the subtleties of this learned discourse - 'twas still like putting ointment on a broken bone.
When he got home, his afflictions weighed upon him so much the heavier. He became pensive - walked frequently to the fish-pond - sighed often - and would have certainly fallen ill, had not his thoughts been distracted by a fresh train of worries left him, with a legacy of a thousand pounds, by my aunt Dinah.
My father had scarce read the letter, when he instantly began to puzzle his head how to use the money to the honour of his family. A hundred-and-fifty odd projects took possession of him by turns - he would go to Rome - he would go to law - he would buy stock - he would buy John Hobson's farm - he would build a new front to his house, and add a new wing to make it even. - There was a fine water-mill on this side, and he would build a wind-mill on the other side of the river in full view to answer it.
- But above all things in the world, he would enclose the great Ox-moor, and send out my brother Bobby immediately upon his travels.
As the sum was finite, and could not do everything, of all these projects, the two last made the deepest impression; and he would have done both, could he have afforded it: but he needed to decide in favour of either one or the other.
This was not so easy; for though my father had long before set his heart upon this necessary part of my brother's education, and had determined to carry it out with the first money that returned from his investments in the Mississippi-scheme - yet the Ox-moor, which was a fine, large, gorse-covered, undrained common, belonging to the Shandy-estate, had almost as old a claim upon him: he had long wished to turn it to some account.
Having never had to decide between the two before, he now found that it was so equal a match between the Ox-moor and my Brother, as to cause no small contest in the old gentleman's mind.
People may laugh - but the case was this.
It had always been the family's custom that the eldest son should be free to travel into foreign parts before marriage - not only to benefit bodily from the exercise and change of air - but also for the delectation of his fancy, by the feather put into his cap of having been abroad.
Now as this was a reasonable indulgence - to deprive him of it, without why or wherefore - and thereby make him the first Shandy unwhirled about Europe in a post-chaise - would be using him ten times worse than a Turk.


On the other hand, the case of the _Ox-moor_ was full as hard.
Exclusive of the original purchase-money, which was eight hundred pounds----it had cost the family eight hundred pounds more in a law-suit about fifteen years before--besides the Lord knows what trouble and vexation.
It had been moreover in possession of the _Shandy_-family ever since the middle of the last century; and though it lay full in view before the house, bounded on one extremity by the water-mill, and on the other by the projected wind-mill, spoken of above--and for all these reasons seemed to have the fairest title of any part of the estate to the care and protection of the family--yet by an unaccountable fatality, common to men, as well as the ground they tread on----it had all along most shamefully been overlook'd; and to speak the truth of it, had suffered so much by it, that it would have made any man's heart have bled (_Obadiah_ said) who understood the value of the land, to have rode over it, and only seen the condition it was in.
However, as neither the purchasing this tract of ground----nor indeed the placing of it where it lay, were either of them, properly speaking, of my father's doing----he had never thought himself any way concerned in the affair------till the fifteen years before, when the breaking out of that cursed law-suit mentioned above (and which had arose about its boundaries)------which being altogether my father's own act and deed, it naturally awakened every other argument in its favour, and upon summing them all up together, he saw, not merely in interest, but in honour, he was bound to do something for it----and that now or never was the time.
I think there must certainly have been a mixture of ill-luck in it, that the reasons on both sides should happen to be so equally balanced by each other; for though my father weigh'd them in all humours and conditions------spent many an anxious hour in the most profound and abstracted meditation upon what was best to be done--reading books of farming one day------books of travels another----laying aside all passion whatever--viewing the arguments on both sides in all their lights and circumstances--communing every day with my uncle _Toby_--arguing with _Yorick_, and talking over the whole affair of the _Ox-moor_ with _Obadiah_------yet nothing in all that time appeared so strongly in behalf of the one, which was not either strictly applicable to the other, or at least so far counterbalanced by some consideration of equal weight, as to keep the scales even.
For to be sure, with proper helps, and in the hands of some people, tho' the _Ox-moor_ would undoubtedly have made a different appearance in the world from what it did, or ever could do in the condition it lay----yet every tittle of this was true, with regard to my brother _Bobby_----let _Obadiah_ say what he would.------
In point of interest----the contest, I own, at first sight, did not appear so undecisive betwixt them; for whenever my father took pen and ink in hand, and set about calculating the simple expence of paring and burning, and fencing in the _Ox-moor_ &c. &c. --with the certain profit it would bring him in return----the latter turned out so prodigiously in his way of working the account, that you would have sworn the _Ox-moor_ would have carried all before it. For it was plain he should reap a hundred lasts of rape, at twenty pounds a last, the very first year----besides an excellent crop of wheat the year following----and the year after that, to speak within bounds, a hundred----but in all likelihood, a hundred and fifty------if not two hundred quarters of pease and beans----besides potatoes without end. ----But then, to think he was all this while breeding up my brother, like a hog to eat them----knocked all on the head again, and generally left the old gentleman in such a state of suspence----that, as he often declared to my uncle _Toby_----he knew no more than his heels what to do.
No body, but he who has felt it, can conceive what a plaguing thing it is to have a man's mind torn asunder by two projects of equal strength, both obstinately pulling in a contrary direction at the same time: for to say nothing of the havock, which by a certain consequence is unavoidably made by it all over the finer system of the nerves, which you know convey the animal spirits and more subtle juices from the heart to the head, and so on----it is not to be told in what a degree such a wayward kind of friction works upon the more gross and solid parts, wasting the fat and impairing the strength of a man every time as it goes backwards and forwards.

On the other hand, the case of the Ox-moor was just as hard.
As well as the purchase-money, which was eight hundred pounds, it had cost the family eight hundred pounds more in a law-suit about fifteen years before - besides the Lord knows what trouble and vexation.
It had been in possession of the Shandy-family ever since the middle of the last century; and though it lay full in view before the house, bounded on one side by the water-mill, and on the other by the projected wind-mill spoken of above - yet, unaccountably, it had always been most shamefully overlooked. To speak the truth, it had suffered so much that it would have made any man's heart bleed (Obadiah said) who understood the value of the land, to have rode over it, and seen the condition it was in.
However, as neither its purchase nor its position were of my father's doing, he had never concerned himself with it - till fifteen years before, when the fighting of that cursed law-suit mentioned above (which had arose about its boundaries), being altogether my father's own act, naturally awakened every argument in its favour, so that he felt honour-bound to do something for it - and that now or never was the time.
I think it was ill-luck that the reasons on both sides were so equally balanced; for though my father weighed them anxiously - reading books of farming one day - books of travels another - arguing with my uncle and Yorick, and talking over the affair of the Ox-moor with Obadiah - yet nothing appeared so strongly in behalf of the one, which was not counterbalanced by some consideration of equal weight in the other.
For, to be sure, with the proper helps, the Ox-moor would undoubtedly have made a different appearance from what it did - yet this was also true with regard to my brother Bobby.
The contest, I own, at first sight, did not appear so close: for whenever my father calculated the simple expense of burning and fencing in the Ox-moor, compared to the profit it would bring him - the latter turned out so prodigiously in his favour, that you would have thought the Ox-moor would have carried all before it. For it was plain his crop of rape should make two thousand pounds the very first year - besides an excellent wheat harvest the year following - and the year after that, a hundred, if not two hundred quarters of peas and beans - besides potatoes without end.
But then, to think he was all this while breeding up my brother like a hog to eat them, knocked all on the head again, and left the old gentleman in such suspense that he knew no more than his heels what to do.
Nobody can conceive what a plaguing thing it is to have a man's mind torn asunder by two projects of equal strength, both obstinately pulling in contrary directions: for to say nothing of the havoc made on the nerves, such a wayward friction works to a dreadful degree upon the more gross and solid parts, impairing the strength of a man every time it goes backwards and forwards.


My father had certainly sunk under this evil, as certainly as he had done under that of my CHRISTIAN NAME----had he not been rescued out of it, as he was out of that, by a fresh evil------the misfortune of my brother _Bobby's_ death.
What is the life of man! Is it not to shift from side to side? ------from sorrow to sorrow? ------to button up one cause of vexation------and unbutton another?

My father would certainly have sunk under this evil, as he had done under that of my christian name - had he not been rescued out of it by a fresh evil - the misfortune of my brother Bobby's death.
What is the life of man! Is it not to shift from sorrow to sorrow? - to button up one cause of vexation - and unbutton another?


Zounds! ------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------Z------ds! cried _Phutatorius_, partly to himself----and yet high enough to be heard--and what seemed odd, 'twas uttered in a construction of look, and in a tone of voice, somewhat between that of a man in amazement and one in bodily pain.
One or two who had very nice ears, and could distinguish the expression and mixture of the two tones as plainly as a _third_ or a _fifth_, or any other chord in musick--were the most puzzled and perplexed with it--the concord was good in itself--but then 'twas quite out of the key, and no way applicable to the subject started; ----so that with all their knowledge, they could not tell what in the world to make of it.
Others who knew nothing of musical expression, and merely lent their ears to the plain import of the _word_, imagined that _Phutatorius_, who was somewhat of a cholerick spirit, was just going to snatch the cudgels out of _Didius's_ hands, in order to bemaul _Yorick_ to some purpose--and that the desperate monosyllable Z------ds was the exordium to an oration, which, as they judged from the sample, presaged but a rough kind of handling of him; so that my uncle _Toby's_ good-nature felt a pang for what _Yorick_ was about to undergo. But seeing _Phutatorius_ stop short, without any attempt or desire to go on--a third party began to suppose, that it was no more than an involuntary respiration, casually forming itself into the shape of a twelve-penny oath--without the sin or substance of one.
Others, and especially one or two who sat next him, looked upon it on the contrary as a real and substantial oath, propensly formed against _Yorick_, to whom he was known to bear no good liking--which said oath, as my father philosophized upon it, actually lay fretting and fuming at that very time in the upper regions of _Phutatorius's_ purtenance; and so was naturally, and according to the due course of things, first squeezed out by the sudden influx of blood which was driven into the right ventricle of _Phutatorius's_ heart, by the stroke of surprize which so strange a theory of preaching had excited.
How finely we argue upon mistaken facts!
There was not a soul busied in all these various reasonings upon the monosyllable which _Phutatorius_ uttered----who did not take this for granted, proceeding upon it as from an axiom, namely, that _Phutatorius's_ mind was intent upon the subject of debate which was arising between _Didius_ and _Yorick_; and indeed as he looked first towards the one and then towards the other, with the air of a man listening to what was going forwards--who would not have thought the same? But the truth was, that _Phutatorius_ knew not one word or one syllable of what was passing--but his whole thoughts and attention were taken up with a transaction which was going forwards at that very instant within the precincts of his own _Galligaskins_, and in a part of them, where of all others he stood most interested to watch accidents: So that notwithstanding he looked with all the attention in the world, and had gradually skrewed up every nerve and muscle in his face, to the utmost pitch the instrument would bear, in order, as it was thought, to give a sharp reply to _Yorick_, who sat over-against him----yet, I say, was _Yorick_ never once in any one domicile of _Phutatorius's_ brain----but the true cause of his exclamation lay at least a yard below.

'Zounds! --------- --------- ------------ -------- ---------- ------------ --------- Z-----ds!' cried Phutatorius, partly to himself, yet high enough to be heard, in a tone between amazement and bodily pain.
One or two could distinguish the mixture of the two tones as plainly as a fifth chord in music - but they could not tell what in the world to make of it.
Others imagined that Phutatorius, who was short-tempered, was about to take the cudgels from Didius and attack Yorick - and that the desperate monosyllable Z------ds was the introduction to a forceful speech. But seeing Phutatorius stop short, they then supposed that it was no more than an involuntary breath, casually forming itself into an oath - without the sin of one.
Those who sat next to him looked upon it, on the contrary, as a real oath against Yorick, whom he was known to not like - this oath being squeezed out by the surprise which so strange a theory of preaching had given him.
How finely we argue upon mistaken facts!
Everybody there assumed that Phutatorius's mind was intent upon the debate between Didius and Yorick; and indeed he looked first towards the one and then the other, with the air of a man listening.
But the truth was, that Phutatorius knew not one word of what was passing - his thoughts were taken up with something which was happening at that very instant within his own breeches, and in a part of them where he was most interested. So although he looked with all the attention in the world, and had screwed up every muscle in his face, - yet the true cause of his exclamation lay a yard below.


This I will endeavour to explain to you with all imaginable decency.
You must be informed then, that _Gastripheres_, who had taken a turn into the kitchen a little before dinner, to see how things went on--observing a wicker-basket of fine chesnuts standing upon the dresser, had ordered that a hundred or two of them might be roasted and sent in, as soon as dinner was over---- _Gastripheres_ inforcing his orders about them, that _Didius_, but _Phutatorius_ especially, were particularly fond of 'em.
About two minutes before the time that my uncle _Toby_ interrupted _Yorick's_ harangue--_Gastripheres's_ chesnuts were brought in--and as _Phutatorius's_ fondness for 'em was uppermost in the waiter's head, he laid them directly before _Phutatorius_, wrapt up hot in a clean damask napkin.
Now whether it was physically impossible, with half a dozen hands all thrust into the napkin at a time--but that some one chesnut, of more life and rotundity than the rest, must be put in motion--it so fell out, however, that one was actually sent rolling off the table; and as _Phutatorius_ sat straddling under----it fell perpendicularly into that particular aperture of _Phutatorius's_ breeches, for which, to the shame and indelicacy of our language be it spoke, there is no chaste word throughout all _Johnson's_ dictionary----let it suffice to say----it was that particular aperture which, in all good societies, the laws of decorum do strictly require, like the temple of _Janus_ (in peace at least) to be universally shut up.
The neglect of this punctilio in _Phutatorius_ (which by the bye should be a warning to all mankind) had opened a door to this accident.----
Accident I call it, in compliance to a received mode of speaking------but in no opposition to the opinion either of _Acrites_ or _Mythogeras_ in this matter; I know they were both prepossessed and fully persuaded of it--and are so to this hour, That there was nothing of accident in the whole event----but that the chesnut's taking that particular course and in a manner of its own accord--and then falling with all its heat directly into that one particular place, and no other----was a real judgment upon _Phutatorius_, for that filthy and obscene treatise _de Concubinis retinendis_, which _Phutatorius_ had published about twenty years ago----and was that identical week going to give the world a second edition of.
It is not my business to dip my pen in this controversy----much undoubtedly may be wrote on both sides of the question--all that concerns me as an historian, is to represent the matter of fact, and render it credible to the reader, that the hiatus in _Phutatorius's_ breeches was sufficiently wide to receive the chesnut; ----and that the chesnut, somehow or other, did fall perpendicularly and piping hot into it, without _Phutatorius's_ perceiving it, or any one else at that time.
The genial warmth which the chesnut imparted, was not undelectable for the first twenty or five-and-twenty seconds----and did no more than gently solicit _Phutatorius's_ attention towards the part: ------But the heat gradually increasing, and in a few seconds more getting beyond the point of all sober pleasure, and then advancing with all speed into the regions of pain, the soul of _Phutatorius_, together with all his ideas, his thoughts, his attention, his imagination, judgment, resolution, deliberation, ratiocination, memory, fancy, with ten battalions of animal spirits, all tumultuously crowded down, through different defiles and circuits, to the place of danger, leaving all his upper regions, as you may imagine, as empty as my purse.
With the best intelligence which all these messengers could bring him back, _Phutatorius_ was not able to dive into the secret of what was going forwards below, nor could he make any kind of conjecture, what the devil was the matter with it: However, as he knew not what the true cause might turn out, he deemed it most prudent, in the situation he was in at present, to bear it, if possible, like a Stoick; which, with the help of some wry faces and compursions of the mouth, he had certainly accomplished, had his imagination continued neuter; ----but the sallies of the imagination are ungovernable in things of this kind--a thought instantly darted into his mind, that tho' the anguish had the sensation of glowing heat--it might, notwithstanding that, be a bite as well as a burn; and if so, that possibly a _Newt_ or an _Asker_, or some such detested reptile, had crept up, and was fastening his teeth----the horrid idea of which, with a fresh glow of pain arising that instant from the chesnut, seized _Phutatorius_ with a sudden panick, and in the first terrifying disorder of the passion, it threw him, as it has done the best generals upon earth, quite off his guard: ----the effect of which was this, that he leapt incontinently up, uttering as he rose that interjection of surprise so much descanted upon, with the aposiopestic break after it, marked thus, Z------ds--which, though not strictly canonical, was still as little as any man could have said upon the occasion; ------and which, by the bye, whether canonical or not, _Phutatorius_ could no more help than he could the cause of it.
Though this has taken up some time in the narrative, it took up little more time in the transaction, than just to allow for _Phutatorius_ to draw forth the chesnut, and throw it down with violence upon the floor--and for _Yorick_ to rise from his chair, and pick the chesnut up.

This I will try to explain with decency.
Gastripheres, who had wandered into the kitchen before dinner, to see how things went on - observing a wicker-basket of fine chestnuts standing upon the dresser, had ordered that a hundred of them might be roasted and sent in after dinner, because Didius, and Phutatorius especially, were fond of 'em.
The chestnuts were brought in - and as Phutatorius's fondness for 'em was uppermost in the waiter's head, he laid them directly before Phutatorius, wrapped up hot in a clean damask napkin.
Now, one chestnut, of more life and rotundity than the rest, must have been put in motion - it was sent rolling off the table; and as Phutatorius sat straddled under - it fell straight into that particular opening of Phutatorius's breeches, for which there is no chaste word in Johnson's dictionary. Let it suffice to say - it was that opening which, in all good societies, the laws of decorum strictly require to be shut up.
Phutatorius's neglect of this rule had opened a door to this accident.
- Accident I call it; but Acrites and Mythogeras were both sure that there was no accident in it - but that the hot chestnut's falling directly into that particular place was a judgment upon Phutatorius, for his filthy treatise de Concubinis retinendis, which he had published about twenty years earlier, and was that week going to give the world a second edition of.
It is not my business to dip my pen in this controversy - all that concerns me is the fact that the gap in Phutatorius's breeches was wide enough to receive the chestnut; which somehow or other fell piping hot into it, without anyone noticing.
The genial warmth of the chestnut was not unpleasant for the first twenty seconds or so - and did no more than gently call Phutatorius's attention to the part.
But the heat increasing speedily into the regions of pain, the soul of Phutatorius, together with his thoughts, attention and judgment, all tumultuously crowded down to the place of danger, leaving his upper regions as empty as my purse.
Phutatorius had no idea of what was going on below, nor could he make any guess what the devil was the matter. However, he deemed it most prudent, in the situation he was in, to bear it, if possible, like a Stoic; which, with the help of some wry faces, he had certainly accomplished.
But then the thought darted into his mind, that though the anguish felt like heat, it might just as likely be a bite as a burn; and that possibly some detested reptile had crept up, and was fastening its teeth in him - a horrid idea which seized Phutatorius with a sudden panic, and threw him quite off his guard.
The effect was that he leapt up, uttering that Z------ds - which was the least any man could have said upon the occasion.
Drawing forth the chestnut, he threw it down violently upon the floor - and Yorick picked it up.