It was attended but with one misfortune, which, in a great measure, fell upon myself, and the effects of which I fear I shall carry with me to my grave; namely, that from an unhappy association of ideas, which have no connection in nature, it so fell out at length, that my poor mother could never hear the said clock wound up, ----but the thoughts of some other things unavoidably popped into her head--and _vice vers_: ----Which strange combination of ideas, the sagacious _Locke_, who certainly understood the nature of these things better than most men, affirms to have produced more wry actions than all other sources of prejudice whatsoever.

The arrangement brought with it one misfortune, the effects of which I fear I shall carry with me to my grave; namely, that from an unhappy association of ideas, at length my poor mother could never hear the said clock being wound up, without the thoughts of some other things unavoidably popping into her head - and vice versa.


Now it appears by a memorandum in my father's pocket-book, which now lies upon the table, "That on _Lady-day_, which was on the 25th of the same month in which I date my geniture, ----my father set out upon his journey to _London_, with my eldest brother _Bobby_, to fix him at _Westminster_ school;" and, as it appears from the same authority, "That he did not get down to his wife and family till the _second week_ in _May_ following," --it brings the thing almost to a certainty. However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all possibility of doubt.

Now it appears by a memorandum in my father's pocket-book, which now lies upon the table, that on the 25th of the month in which I was conceived, my father set out to London with my elder brother Bobby, to fix him at Westminster school; and, as it appears from the same book that he did not return to his wife and family till the second week in May, it makes the thing almost certain. However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all doubt.


------But pray, Sir, What was your father doing all _December_, _January_, and _February?_ ----Why, Madam, --he was all that time afflicted with a Sciatica.

- But pray, Sir, What was your father doing all December, January, and February?
- Why, Madam, he was all that time afflicted with a Sciatica.


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

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


"_Make them like unto a wheel_," is a bitter sarcasm, as all the learned know, against the _grand tour_, and that restless spirit for making it, which _David_ prophetically foresaw would haunt the children of men in the latter days; and therefore, as thinketh the great bishop _Hall_, 'tis one of the severest imprecations which _David_ ever utter'd against the enemies of the Lord--and, as if he had said, "I wish them no worse luck than always to be rolling about" --So much motion, continues he (for he was very corpulent)--is so much unquietness; and so much of rest, by the same analogy, is so much of heaven.

'Make them like unto a wheel' is a bitter sarcasm, as all the learned know, against the grand tour, and the restless spirit for making it, which David foresaw would haunt the children of men; and therefore, (thinks the great bishop Hall), 'tis one of the severest imprecations which David ever uttered against the enemies of the Lord. For motion, says he, is unquietness; and rest is heavenly.


Now, I (being very thin) think differently; and that so much of motion, is so much of life, and so much of joy----and that to stand still, or get on but slowly, is death and the devil----

Now, I think differently; that motion is so much of life, and joy - and that to stand still, or move slowly, is death and the devil-


Hollo! Ho! ----the whole world's asleep! ----bring out the horses----grease the wheels--tie on the mail----and drive a nail into that moulding ----I'll not lose a moment----

Hollo! the whole world's asleep! - bring out the horses - grease the wheels - tie on the mail - I'll not lose a moment-


Now the wheel we are talking of, and _whereinto_ (but not _whereunto_, for that would make an Ixion's wheel of it) he curseth his enemies, according to the bishop's habit of body, should certainly be a post-chaise wheel, whether they were set up in _Palestine_ at that time or not----and my wheel, for the contrary reasons, must as certainly be a cart-wheel groaning round its revolution once in an age; and of which sort, were I to turn commentator, I should make no scruple to affirm, they had great store in that hilly country.

Now the wheel we are talking of, with which he curseth his enemies, should certainly be a post-chaise wheel, whether they had them in Palestine at that time or not - and my wheel must as certainly be a cart-wheel groaning round once in an age; and of which I dare say they had great store in that hilly country.


I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever I dare tell my dear _Jenny_) for their " , "---- [their] "_getting out of the body, in order to think well_." No man thinks right, whilst he is in it; blinded as he must be, with his congenial humours, and drawn differently aside, as the bishop and myself have been, with too lax or too tense a fibre ----REASON is, half of it, SENSE; and the measure of heaven itself is but the measure of our present appetites and concoctions----

I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever I dare tell my dear Jenny) for their 'getting out of the body, in order to think well.' No man thinks right, whilst he is in it; blinded as he must be, with his humours, and either too lax or too tense. - Reason is half Sensation; and the measure of heaven itself is but the measure of our present appetites-


----But which of the two, in the present case, do you think to be mostly in the wrong?

- But which of the two do you think to be mostly in the wrong?


You, certainly: quoth she, to disturb a whole family so early.

'You, certainly,' quoth she, 'to disturb a whole family so early.'


In love! ----said the corporal--your honour was very well the day before yesterday, when I was telling your honour the story of the King of _Bohemia_--_Bohemia!_ said my uncle _Toby_ - - - - musing a long time - - - What became of that story, _Trim?_

'In love!' said the corporal. 'Your honour was very well the day before yesterday, when I was telling you the story of the King of Bohemia.'
'Bohemia!' said my uncle Toby, musing. 'What became of that story, Trim?'


--We lost it, an' please your honour, somehow betwixt us--but your honour was as free from love then, as I am----'twas just whilst thou went'st off with the wheel-barrow----with Mrs. _Wadman_, quoth my uncle _Toby_ ----She has left a ball here--added my uncle _Toby_--pointing to his breast----

'We lost it, your honour, somehow - but your honour was as free from love then, as I am.'
''Twas whilst thou went'st off with the wheel-barrow. Mrs. Wadman has left a ball here,' quoth my uncle Toby, pointing to his breast.


----She can no more, an' please your honour, stand a siege, than she can fly--cried the corporal----

'She can no more withstand a siege, than she can fly,' cried the corporal.


----But as we are neighbours, _Trim_, --the best way I think is to let her know it civilly first--quoth my uncle _Toby_.

'But as we are neighbours, Trim, I think it best to let her know it civilly first,' quoth my uncle Toby.


Now if I might presume, said the corporal, to differ from your honour----

'If I might presume to differ from your honour


--Why else do I talk to thee, _Trim?_ said my uncle _Toby_, mildly----


--Then I would begin, an' please your honour, with making a good thundering attack upon her, in return--and telling her civilly afterwards--for if she knows anything of your honour's being in love, before hand ----L--d help her! --she knows no more at present of it, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_--than the child unborn------

 - I would begin with making a good thundering attack upon her, in return - and telling her civilly afterwards. For if she knows anything of your honour's being in love, beforehand-'
'L__d help her! she knows no more of it,' said my uncle Toby, 'than the child unborn.'


Mrs. _Wadman_ had told it, with all its circumstances, to Mrs. _Bridget_ twenty-four hours before; and was at that very moment sitting in council with her, touching some slight misgivings with regard to the issue of the affairs, which the Devil, who never lies dead in a ditch, had put into her head--before he would allow half time, to get quietly through her _Te Deum_.

Mrs. Wadman had told it, with all its circumstances, to Bridget twenty-four hours before; and was at that very moment consulting her about some slight misgivings which the Devil, who never lies dead in a ditch, had put into her head.


I am terribly afraid, said widow _Wadman_, in case I should marry him, _Bridget_--that the poor captain will not enjoy his health, with the monstrous wound upon his groin----

'I am terribly afraid,' said widow Wadman, 'that if I should marry him, Bridget, the poor captain will not enjoy good health, with the monstrous wound upon his groin.'


It may not, Madam, be so very large, replied _Bridget_, as you think----and I believe, besides, added she--that 'tis dried up----

'It may not be so very large,' replied Bridget, 'as you think, Madam. I believe, besides, that 'tis dried up.'


----I could like to know--merely for his sake, said Mrs. _Wadman_----

'I would like to know - merely for his sake,' said Mrs. Wadman.


--We'll know the long and the broad of it, in ten days--answered Mrs. _Bridget_, for whilst the captain is paying his addresses to you --I'm confident Mr. _Trim_ will be for making love to me--and I'll let him as much as he will--added _Bridget_--to get it all out of him----

'We'll know the long and the broad of it in ten days,' answered Bridget; 'for whilst the captain is paying his addresses to you, I'm confident Mr. Trim will be for making love to me - and I'll let him, to get it all out of him.'


The measures were taken at once----and my uncle _Toby_ and the corporal went on with theirs.

These measures were taken. Meanwhile, my uncle Toby and the corporal went on with theirs.


Now, quoth the corporal, setting his left hand a-kimbo, and giving such a flourish with his right, as just promised success--and no more----if your honour will give me leave to lay down the plan of this attack----

'Now,' quoth the corporal, one arm a-kimbo, 'if your honour will give me leave to lay down the plan of this attack-'


----Thou wilt please me by it, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, exceedingly--and as I foresee thou must act in it as my _aid de camp_, here's a crown, corporal, to begin with, to steep thy commission.

'That will please me exceedingly,' said my uncle Toby, 'and as thou must act as my aid de camp, here's a crown for thy commission.'


Then, an' please your honour, said the corporal (making a bow first for his commission)--we will begin with getting your honour's laced cloaths out of the great campaign-trunk, to be well air'd, and have the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves--and I'll put your white ramallie-wig fresh into pipes--and send for a taylor, to have your honour's thin scarlet breeches turn'd----

'Then, your honour,' said the corporal, making a bow, 'we will begin with getting your honour's laced clothes out of the campaign-trunk, and have the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves - and I'll put your white wig fresh into pipes - and send for a tailor, to have your honour's thin scarlet breeches turned-'


--I had better take the red plush ones, quoth my uncle _Toby_ ----They will be too clumsy--said the corporal.

'I had better take the red plush ones,' quoth my uncle Toby.
'They will be too clumsy,' said the corporal.


Crack, crack----crack, crack----crack, crack----so this is _Paris!_ quoth I (continuing in the same mood)--and this is _Paris!_----humph! ----_Paris!_ cried I, repeating the name the third time----

Crack, crack - crack, crack - crack, crack - 'so this is Paris!' quoth I (in the same mood). 'Humph! Paris!


The first, the finest, the most brilliant----

'The first, the finest, the most brilliant-


But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells----crack, crack----crack, crack----what a fuss thou makest! --as if it concerned the good people to be informed, that a man with pale face and clad in black, had the honour to be driven into _Paris_ at nine o'clock at night, by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin, turned up with red calamanco--crack, crack----crack, crack----crack, crack, ----I wish thy whip----

'But I suppose it looks better than it smells.'
Crack, crack - crack, crack - what a fuss thou makest! as if the good people needed to be informed that a man with a pale face and clad in black was driven into Paris at nine o'clock by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin-
Crack, crack - crack, crack - I wish thy whip-


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

But 'tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack on.


Ha! ----and no one gives the wall! ----but in the SCHOOL of URBANITY herself, if the walls are besh-t--how can you do otherwise?

Ha! - and no one gives you space by the wall! but if the walls are besh _t, - how can you do otherwise?


And prithee when do they light the lamps? What? --never in the summer months! ----Ho! 'tis the time of sallads. ----O rare! sallad and soup--soup and sallad--sallad and soup, _encore_----

And prithee when do they light the lamps? What? never in the summer months! - Ho! 'tis the time of salads. O rare! salad and soup - soup and salad - salad and soup, encore-


Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can that unconscionable coachman talk so much bawdy to that lean horse? don't you see, friend, the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room in all _Paris_ to turn a wheelbarrow? In the grandest city of the whole world, it would not have been amiss, if they had been left a thought wider; nay, were it only so much in every single street, as that a man might know (was it only for satisfaction) on which side of it he was walking.

How can that coachman swear so lewdly to that lean horse? don't you see, friend, the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room to turn a wheelbarrow? In the grandest city of the world, it would not have been amiss if they had been a touch wider; if only so that a man in the street might know on which side of it he was walking.


One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten. --Ten cook's shops! and twice the number of barbers! and all within three minutes driving! one would think that all the cooks in the world, on some great merry-meeting with the barbers, by joint consent had said --Come, let us all go live at _Paris_: the _French_ love good eating----they are all _gourmands_----we shall rank high; if their god is their belly----their cooks must be gentlemen: and forasmuch as _the periwig maketh the man_, and the periwig-maker maketh the periwig--_ergo_, would the barbers say, we shall rank higher still--we shall be above you all--we shall be _Capitouls_[7.2] at least--_pardi!_ we shall all wear swords----

- Ten cooks' shops! and twenty barbers! all within three minutes' driving! one would think that all the cooks and barbers, by joint consent, had said 'Come, let us all go live at Paris: the French love good eating - we shall rank high; if their god is their belly - their cooks must be gentlemen: and as the periwig maketh the man, and the wig-maker maketh the periwig - therefore,' the barbers would say, 'we shall rank higher still, and all wear swords-'


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

And one would swear they continue to do so, (as far as one can tell by candle-light,) to this day.


[Footnote 7.2: Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, &c. &c. &c.]


Fifty thousand pannier loads of devils--(not of the Archbishop of _Benevento's_, --I mean of _Rabelais's_ devils) with their tails chopped off by their rumps, could not have made so diabolical a scream of it, as I did--when the accident befel me: it summoned up my mother instantly into the nursery, --so that _Susannah_ had but just time to make her escape down the back stairs, as my mother came up the fore.

Fifty thousand pannier loads of devils with their tails chopped off could not have made so diabolical a scream, as I did when the accident befell me. It brought my mother instantly into the nursery, so that Susannah just had time to escape down the back stairs as my mother came up the front.


Now, though I was old enough to have told the story myself, --and young enough, I hope, to have done it without malignity; yet _Susannah_, in passing by the kitchen, for fear of accidents, had left it in shorthand with the cook--the cook had told it with a commentary to _Jonathan_, and _Jonathan_ to _Obadiah_; so that by the time my father had rung the bell half a dozen times, to know what was the matter above, --was _Obadiah_ enabled to give him a particular account of it, just as it had happened. --I thought as much, said my father, tucking up his night-gown; --and so walked up stairs.

Now, though I was old enough to have told the story myself, yet Susannah, in passing through the kitchen, had left it in shorthand with the cook - the cook had told it with a commentary to Jonathan, and Jonathan to Obadiah; so that by the time my father had rung the bell half a dozen times, to know what was the matter, Obadiah could give him an account of it, just as it had happened.
'I thought as much,' said my father, tucking up his night-gown, and walking up stairs.


One would imagine from this----(though for my own part I somewhat question it)--that my father, before that time, had actually wrote that remarkable character in the _Tristra-pdia_, which to me is the most original and entertaining one in the whole book; --and that is the _chapter upon sash-windows_, with a bitter _Philippick_ at the end of it, upon the forgetfulness of chamber-maids. --I have but two reasons for thinking otherwise.

One might imagine from this that my father had already wrote that remarkable chapter in the Tristra-paedia, which to me is the most original and entertaining one in the whole book - and that is the chapter upon sash-windows, with a bitter tirade at the end of it, upon the forgetfulness of chamber-maids.
I have just two reasons for thinking otherwise.


First, Had the matter been taken into consideration, before the event happened, my father certainly would have nailed up the sash window for good an' all; --which, considering with what difficulty he composed books, --he might have done with ten times less trouble, than he could have wrote the chapter: this argument I foresee holds good against his writing a chapter, even after the event; but 'tis obviated under the second reason, which I have the honour to offer to the world in support of my opinion, that my father did not write the chapter upon sash-windows and chamber-pots, at the time supposed, --and it is this.

First, had the matter been considered before the event happened, my father certainly would have nailed up the sash window; which, considering with what difficulty he composed books, he might have done with ten times less trouble than writing the chapter.
However, this argument, though good, is made obsolete by the second reason which I offer in support of my opinion that my father did not write the chapter upon sash-windows and chamber-pots: and it is this.


----That, in order to render the _Tristra-pdia_ complete, --I wrote the chapter myself.

That, in order to make the Tristra-paedia complete, I wrote the chapter myself.


----That provision should be made for continuing the race of so great, so exalted and godlike a Being as man --I am far from denying--but philosophy speaks freely of everything; and therefore I still think and do maintain it to be a pity, that it should be done by means of a passion which bends down the faculties, and turns all the wisdom, contemplations, and operations of the soul backwards----a passion, my dear, continued my father, addressing himself to my mother, which couples and equals wise men with fools, and makes us come out of our caverns and hiding-places more like satyrs and four-footed beasts than men.

'That the race of so great, so exalted and godlike a Being as man should be continued, I am far from denying; but I think it a pity, that it should be done by means of a passion which bends down the faculties, and turns all the wisdom of the soul backwards - a passion, my dear,' continued my father, addressing himself to my mother, 'which couples and equals wise men with fools, and makes us come out of our caverns and hiding-places more like satyrs and four-footed beasts than men.


I know it will be said, continued my father (availing himself of the _Prolepsis_), that in itself, and simply taken----like hunger, or thirst, or sleep----'tis an affair neither good or bad--or shameful or otherwise. ----Why then did the delicacy of _Diogenes_ and _Plato_ so recalcitrate against it? and wherefore, when we go about to make and plant a man, do we put out the candle? and for what reason is it, that all the parts thereof--the congredients--the preparations--the instruments, and whatever serves thereto, are so held as to be conveyed to a cleanly mind by no language, translation, or periphrasis whatever?

'I know it will be said,' continued my father, 'that in itself, and simply taken - like hunger, or thirst, or sleep - 'tis neither good or bad - neither shameful or otherwise. Why then did the delicacy of Diogenes and Plato so revolt against it? and why, when we are about to plant a child, do we put out the candle? and why are all the parts thereof held to be impossible to convey cleanly by any language or translation?


----The act of killing and destroying a man, continued my father, raising his voice--and turning to my uncle _Toby_--you see, is glorious--and the weapons by which we do it are honourable ----We march with them upon our shoulders ----We strut with them by our sides ----We gild them ----We carve them ----We in-lay them ----We enrich them ----Nay, if it be but a _scoundrel_ cannon, we cast an ornament upon the breach of it.--

'The act of killing and destroying a man,' continued my father, raising his voice and turning to my uncle Toby, 'you see, is glorious - and the weapons by which we do it are honourable. - We march with them upon our shoulders - We strut with them by our sides - We gild them - We carve them - We inlay them; even a scoundrel cannon has an ornament cast upon its breach.'


----My uncle _Toby_ laid down his pipe to intercede for a better epithet----and _Yorick_ was rising up to batter the whole hypothesis to pieces----

My uncle Toby laid down his pipe to intercede for a better epithet - and Yorick was rising up to batter the whole hypothesis to pieces-


----When _Obadiah_ broke into the middle of the room with a complaint, which cried out for an immediate hearing.

- When Obadiah burst into the room with a complaint which cried out for an immediate hearing.


My father, whether by ancient custom of the manor, or as impropriator of the great tythes, was obliged to keep a Bull for the service of the Parish, and _Obadiah_ had led his cow upon a _pop-visit_ to him one day or other the preceding summer ----I say, one day or other--because as chance would have it, it was the day on which he was married to my father's housemaid----so one was a reckoning to the other. Therefore when _Obadiah's_ wife was brought to bed--_Obadiah_ thanked God----

My father, by ancient custom of the manor, was obliged to keep a Bull for the service of the Parish, and Obadiah had led his cow upon a pop-visit to him one day or other the preceding summer.
I say, one day or other - because as chance would have it, it was the day on which he married my father's housemaid - so one was a reckoning for the other. Therefore when Obadiah's wife was brought to bed of a child, Obadiah thanked God.


----Now, said _Obadiah_, I shall have a calf: so _Obadiah_ went daily to visit his cow.

- 'Now,' said Obadiah, 'I shall have a calf:' so he went daily to visit his cow.


She'll calve on _Monday_--on _Tuesday_--on _Wednesday_ at the farthest----

'She'll calve on Monday - on Tuesday - on Wednesday at the latest-'


The cow did not calve----no--she'll not calve till next week----the cow put it off terribly----till at the end of the sixth week _Obadiah's_ suspicions (like a good man's) fell upon the Bull.

The cow did not calve. - 'no - she'll not calve till next week.'
The cow put it off terribly - till at the end of the sixth week Obadiah's suspicions fell upon the Bull.


Now the parish being very large, my father's Bull, to speak the truth of him, was no way equal to the department; he had, however, got himself, somehow or other, thrust into employment--and as he went through the business with a grave face, my father had a high opinion of him.

Now the parish being very large, my father's Bull, to speak the truth, was not equal to the job; he had, however, got himself thrust into employment - and as he went through the business with a grave face, my father had a high opinion of him.


----Most of the townsmen, an' please your worship, quoth _Obadiah_, believe that 'tis all the Bull's fault----

'Most of the townsmen,' quoth Obadiah, 'believe that 'tis all the Bull's fault.'


----But may not a cow be barren? replied my father, turning to Doctor _Slop_.

'But may not a cow be barren?' replied my father, turning to Doctor Slop.


It never happens: said Dr. _Slop_, but the man's wife may have come before her time naturally enough ----Prithee has the child hair upon his head? --added Dr. _Slop_------

'It never happens,' said Dr. Slop; 'but Obadiah's wife may have come before her time. - Prithee has the child hair upon his head?'


----It is as hairy as I am; said _Obadiah_. ----_Obadiah_ had not been shaved for three weeks ----Wheu - - u - - - - u - - - - - - - - cried my father; beginning the sentence with an exclamatory whistle----and so, brother _Toby_, this poor Bull of mine, who is as good a Bull as ever p--ss'd, and might have done for _Europa_ herself in purer times----had he but two legs less, might have been driven into Doctors Commons and lost his character----which to a Town Bull, brother _Toby_, is the very same thing as his life------

'It is as hairy as I am,' said Obadiah; he had not shaved for three weeks.
'Wheu - - u - - u - -' cried my father, with an exclamatory whistle; 'and so, brother Toby, this poor Bull of mine, who is as good a Bull as ever p_ssed, and might have done for Europa herself - had he but two legs less, he might have lost his character - which to a Town Bull is the very same thing as his life-'


L--d! said my mother, what is all this story about?----

'L__d!' said my mother. 'What is all this story about?'


A COCK and a BULL, said _Yorick_ ----And one of the best of its kind, I ever heard.

'A Cock and a Bull,' said Yorick. '- And one of the best of its kind, I ever heard.'


Though man is of all others the most curious vehicle, said my father, yet at the same time 'tis of so slight a frame, and so totteringly put together, that the sudden jerks and hard jostlings it unavoidably meets with in this rugged journey, would overset and tear it to pieces a dozen times a day----was it not, brother _Toby_, that there is a secret spring within us. --Which spring, said my uncle _Toby_, I take to be Religion. --Will that set my child's nose on? cried my father, letting go his finger, and striking one hand against the other. ----It makes everything straight for us, answered my uncle _Toby_. ----Figuratively speaking, dear _Toby_, it may, for aught I know, said my father; but the spring I am speaking of, is that great and elastic power within us of counterbalancing evil, which, like a secret spring in a well-ordered machine, though it can't prevent the shock----at least it imposes upon our sense of it.

'Though man is so curious a vehicle,' said my father, 'yet his frame is so slight, and so totteringly put together, that the sudden jostlings it unavoidably meets with in this rugged journey, would tear it to pieces a dozen times a day - were it not, brother Toby, that there is a secret spring within us.'
'I take it you mean Religion,' said my uncle Toby.
'Will that set my child's nose on?' cried my father, letting go his finger.
'It makes everything straight for us,' answered my uncle Toby.
'Figuratively speaking, dear Toby, it may,' said my father; 'but the spring I am speaking of, is that great power within us of counterbalancing evil, which, like a secret spring in a well-ordered machine, though it can't prevent the shock - at least it deadens our sense of it.


Now, my dear brother, said my father, replacing his forefinger, as he was coming closer to the point----had my child arrived safe into the world, unmartyr'd in that precious part of him--fanciful and extravagant as I may appear to the world in my opinion of christian names, and of that magic bias which good or bad names irresistibly impress upon our characters and conducts --Heaven is witness! that in the warmest transports of my wishes for the prosperity of my child, I never once wished to crown his head with more glory and honour than what GEORGE or EDWARD would have spread around it.

'Now, my dear brother,' continued my father, replacing his forefinger, 'if my child had arrived safe into the world, with his nose intact - fanciful as I may appear in my opinion of christian names, and of that magic bias which good or bad names impress upon our characters - Heaven is witness! in my warmest wishes for my child, I never wished to crown his head with more glory and honour than George or Edward would have bestowed on him.


But alas! continued my father, as the greatest evil has befallen him ----I must counteract and undo it with the greatest good.

But alas! as the greatest evil has befallen him - I must counteract it with the greatest good.


He shall be christened _Trismegistus_, brother.


I wish it may answer----replied my uncle _Toby_, rising up.

'I wish it may help,' replied my uncle Toby.


In the case of _knots_, --by which, in the first place, I would not be understood to mean slip-knots--because in the course of my life and opinions--my opinions concerning them will come in more properly when I mention the catastrophe of my great uncle Mr. _Hammond Shandy_, --a little man, --but of high fancy: --he rushed into the duke of _Monmouth's_ affair: ----nor, secondly, in this place, do I mean that particular species of knots called bow-knots; --there is so little address, or skill, or patience required in the unloosing them, that they are below my giving any opinion at all about them. --But by the knots I am speaking of, may it please your reverences to believe, that I mean good, honest, devilish tight, hard knots, made _bona fide_, as _Obadiah_ made his; ----in which there is no quibbling provision made by the duplication and return of the two ends of the strings thro' the annulus or noose made by the second _implication_ of them--to get them slipp'd and undone by. --I hope you apprehend me.

In the case of knots, - by which, in the first place, I do not mean slip-knots - because in the course of my life and opinions- my opinions concerning them will come in more properly when I mention the catastrophe of my great uncle Mr. Hammond Shandy, a little man, but of high fancy - he rushed into the duke of Monmouth's affair:- secondly, nor do I mean bow-knots; there is so little skill required to unloose them that they are beneath my notice.
But by knots I mean good, honest, devilish tight, hard knots, like Obadiah's; - in which there is no quibbling provision made by the duplication and return of the two ends of the strings through the annulus, to get them undone by. - I hope you understand me.


In the case of these _knots_ then, and of the several obstructions, which, may it please your reverences, such knots cast in our way in getting through life----every hasty man can whip out his penknife and cut through them. ----'Tis wrong. Believe me, Sirs, the most virtuous way, and which both reason and conscience dictate----is to take our teeth or our fingers to them. ----Dr. _Slop_ had lost his teeth--his favourite instrument, by extracting in a wrong direction, or by some misapplication of it, unfortunately slipping, he had formerly, in a hard labour, knock'd out three of the best of them with the handle of it: ------he tried his fingers--alas; the nails of his fingers and thumbs were cut close. ----The duce take it! I can make nothing of it either way, cried Dr. _Slop_. ----The trampling overhead near my mother's bedside increased. --Pox take the fellow! I shall never get the knots untied as long as I live. ----My mother gave a groan. ----Lend me your penknife ----I must e'en cut the knots at last----pugh! ----psha! --Lord! I have cut my thumb quite across to the very bone----curse the fellow--if there was not another man-midwife within fifty miles ----I am undone for this bout --I wish the scoundrel hang'd --I wish he was shot ----I wish all the devils in hell had him for a blockhead!------

In the case of these knots, and of the obstructions such knots cast in our way through life - every hasty man can whip out his penknife and cut through them.
- 'Tis wrong. Believe me, Sirs, the most virtuous way is to take our teeth or our fingers to them. Dr. Slop had lost his teeth in a hard labour; his favourite instrument, extracting in a wrong direction, and unfortunately slipping, had knocked out three of the best of them with its handle. - He tried his fingers: alas, his nails were cut close.
'The deuce take it! I can make nothing of it,' cried Dr. Slop. - The trampling overhead increased. - 'Pox take the fellow! I shall never get the knots untied as long as I live.' - My mother groaned. - 'Lend me your penknife - I must cut them - psha! Lord! I have cut my thumb to the bone - curse the fellow - I wish the scoundrel hanged - or shot - I wish all the devils in hell had him for a blockhead!'


My father had a great respect for _Obadiah_, and could not bear to hear him disposed of in such a manner--he had moreover some little respect for himself--and could as ill bear with the indignity offered to himself in it.

My father had a great respect for Obadiah, and could not bear to hear him abused in such a manner; to say nothing of the indignity it offered to himself.


Had Dr. _Slop_ cut any part about him, but his thumb----my father had pass'd it by--his prudence had triumphed: as it was, he was determined to have his revenge.


Small curses, Dr. _Slop_, upon great occasions, quoth my father (condoling with him first upon the accident), are but so much waste of our strength and soul's health to no manner of purpose. --I own it, replied Dr. _Slop_. --They are like sparrow-shot, quoth my uncle _Toby_ (suspending his whistling), fired against a bastion. ----They serve, continued my father, to stir the humours----but carry off none of their acrimony: --for my own part, I seldom swear or curse at all --I hold it bad----but if I fall into it by surprize, I generally retain so much presence of mind (right, quoth my uncle _Toby_) as to make it answer my purpose----that is, I swear on till I find myself easy. A wise and a just man however would always endeavour to proportion the vent given to these humours, not only to the degree of them stirring within himself--but to the size and ill intent of the offence upon which they are to fall. --"_Injuries come only from the heart_," --quoth my uncle _Toby_. For this reason, continued my father, with the most _Cervantick_ gravity, I have the greatest veneration in the world for that gentleman, who, in distrust of his own discretion in this point, sat down and composed (that is at his leisure) fit forms of swearing suitable to all cases, from the lowest to the highest provocation which could possibly happen to him----which forms being well considered by him, and such moreover as he could stand to, he kept them ever by him on the chimney-piece, within his reach, ready for use. --I never apprehended, replied Dr. _Slop_, that such a thing was ever thought of----much less executed. I beg your pardon, answered my father; I was reading, though not using, one of them to my brother _Toby_ this morning, whilst he pour'd out the tea--'tis here upon the shelf over my head; --but if I remember right, 'tis too violent for a cut of the thumb. --Not at all, quoth Dr. _Slop_--the devil take the fellow. ----Then, answered my father, 'Tis much at your service, Dr. _Slop_--on condition you will read it aloud; ----so rising up and reaching down a form of excommunication of the church of _Rome_, a copy of which, my father (who was curious in his collections) had procured out of the leger-book of the church of _Rochester_, writ by ERNULPHUS the bishop----with a most affected seriousness of look and voice, which might have cajoled ERNULPHUS himself--he put it into Dr. _Slop's_ hands. ----Dr. _Slop_ wrapt his thumb up in the corner of his handkerchief, and with a wry face, though without any suspicion, read aloud, as follows------my uncle _Toby_ whistling _Lillabullero_ as loud as he could all the time.

'Small curses, Dr. Slop, upon great occasions,' quoth he, 'are a waste of our strength to no purpose.'
'I know,' replied Dr. Slop.
'They are like sparrow-shot,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'fired against a bastion.'
'They serve,' continued my father, 'to stir the temper - not relieve it: for my own part, I seldom curse at all. I think it bad - but if I fall into it by surprise, I generally keep enough presence of mind to make it answer my purpose - that is, I swear on till I find myself easy. A wise man, however, would always try to vent these humours in proportion to the size and ill intent of the offence.'
'Injuries come only from the heart,' quoth my uncle Toby.
'For this reason,' continued my father, with the most Cervantick gravity, 'I have the greatest respect for that gentleman who sat down and composed fit forms of swearing suitable for all cases, from the lowest to the highest provocation. He kept these forms by him on the chimney-piece, within his reach, ready for use.'
'I never knew,' replied Dr. Slop, 'that such a thing was ever thought of.'
'I beg your pardon,' answered my father; 'I was reading, though not using, one of them to my brother Toby this morning, whilst he poured out the tea - 'tis here upon the shelf; but if I remember right, 'tis too violent for a cut of the thumb.'
'Not at all,' quoth Dr. Slop; 'the devil take the fellow.'
'Then,' answered my father, ''tis at your service, Dr. Slop - on condition you will read it aloud.'
Rising up and reaching down a form of excommunication of the church of Rome, a copy of which my father had procured from the church of Rochester, writ by Ernelphus the bishop - with a most serious look, he put it into Dr. Slop's hands.
Dr. Slop wrapped his thumb up in his handkerchief, and without any suspicion, read aloud, as follows - my uncle Toby whistling Lillabullero as loud as he could all the time.


Textus de Ecclesi Roffensi, per Ernulfum Episcopum.


The following section was printed on facing pages, Latin and English. For this e-text it has been broken into alternating paragraphs. The letters inserted between Latin lines are alternative endings determined by the number and gender of the person(s) being excommunicated.]


Ex auctoritate Dei omnipotentis, Patris, et Filij, et Spiritus Sancti, et sanctorum canonum, sanctque et intemerat Virginis Dei genetricis Mari,--

Ex auctoritate Dei omnipotentis, Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, et sanctorum canonum, sanctaeque et intemeratae Virginis Dei genetricis Mariae,-


Let us go back to the ******----in the last chapter.

Let us go back to the ****** in the last chapter.


It is a singular stroke of eloquence (at least it was so, when eloquence flourished at _Athens_ and _Rome_, and would be so now, did orators wear mantles) not to mention the name of a thing, when you had the thing about you _in petto_, ready to produce, pop, in the place you want it. A scar, an axe, a sword, a pink'd doublet, a rusty helmet, a pound and a half of pot-ashes in an urn, or a three-halfpenny pickle pot--but above all, a tender infant royally accoutred. --Tho' if it was too young, and the oration as long as _Tully's_ second _Philippick_--it must certainly have beshit the orator's mantle. --And then again, if too old, --it must have been unwieldy and incommodious to his action--so as to make him lose by his child almost as much as he could gain by it. --Otherwise, when a state orator has hit the precise age to a minute----hid his BAMBINO in his mantle so cunningly that no mortal could smell it----and produced it so critically, that no soul could say, it came in by head and shoulders --Oh Sirs! it has done wonders --It has open'd the sluices, and turn'd the brains, and shook the principles, and unhinged the politicks of half a nation.

It is a singular stroke of eloquence (at least it was, when eloquence flourished at Athens and Rome, and would be so now, if orators wore mantles) not to mention the name of a thing, when you had the actual thing about you, ready to produce, pop, in the place you wanted it. An axe, a sword, a rusty helmet, a pound and a half of ashes in an urn, or a three-halfpenny pickle pot - but above all, a tender infant royally clothed - though if it was too young, and the oration too long, it must certainly have beshit the orator's mantle. - And then again, if it was too old, it must have been unwieldy and inconvenient for his purpose.
Otherwise, when an orator has hit the precise time - hid his Bambino in his mantle so cunningly that no-one could smell it - and produced it skilfully - Oh Sirs! it has done wonders. It has turned the brains, and shook the principles, and unhinged the politics of half a nation.


These feats however are not to be done, except in those states and times, I say, where orators wore mantles----and pretty large ones too, my brethren, with some twenty or five-and-twenty yards of good purple, superfine, marketable cloth in them--with large flowing folds and doubles, and in a great style of design. --All which plainly shews, may it please your worships, that the decay of eloquence, and the little good service it does at present, both within and without doors, is owing to nothing else in the world, but short coats, and the disuse of _trunk-hose_. ----We can conceal nothing under ours, Madam, worth shewing.

These feats could only be done, however, where orators wore mantles - and pretty large ones too, with some five-and-twenty yards of good superfine cloth, large flowing folds and a great style of design. All which plainly shows that the decay of eloquence is owing to nothing else in the world, but short coats. We can conceal nothing under ours, Madam, worth showing.


----Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword----'Twill be only in your honour's way, replied _Trim_.

'Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword.'
''Twill only be in your honour's way,' replied Trim.


----My uncle _Toby_ went to his bureau, --put his purse into his breeches pocket, and having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a physician, --he went to bed, and fell asleep.

My uncle Toby went to his bureau, put his purse into his breeches pocket, and having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a doctor, - he went to bed, and fell asleep.


Your sudden and unexpected arrival, quoth my uncle _Toby_, addressing himself to Dr. _Slop_ (all three of them sitting down to the fire together, as my uncle _Toby_ began to speak)--instantly brought the great _Stevinus_ into my head, who, you must know, is a favourite author with me. --Then, added my father, making use of the argument _Ad Crumenam_, --I will lay twenty guineas to a single crown-piece (which will serve to give away to _Obadiah_ when he gets back) that this same _Stevinus_ was some engineer or other, --or has wrote something or other, either directly or indirectly, upon the science of fortification.

'Your sudden and unexpected arrival,' quoth my uncle Toby to Dr. Slop (all three of them sitting down to the fire together,) - 'instantly brought the great Stevinus into my head, who, you must know, is a favourite author with me.'
My father said, 'I will lay twenty guineas that this Stevinus was some engineer or other, or has wrote upon the science of fortification.'


He has so, --replied my uncle _Toby_. --I knew it, said my father, though, for the soul of me, I cannot see what kind of connection there can be betwixt Dr. _Slop's_ sudden coming, and a discourse upon fortification; --yet I fear'd it. --Talk of what we will, brother, ----or let the occasion be never so foreign or unfit for the subject, --you are sure to bring it in. I would not, brother _Toby_, continued my father, ------I declare I would not have my head so full of curtins and hornworks. --That I dare say you would not, quoth Dr. _Slop_, interrupting him, and laughing most immoderately at his pun.

'He has so,' replied my uncle Toby.
'I knew it,' said my father, 'though, for the soul of me, I cannot see what connection there can be betwixt Dr. Slop's sudden coming, and fortification; - yet I feared it. No matter how unfit for the subject, you are sure to bring it in. I declare, my brother Toby, I would not have my head so full of curtins and hornworks.'
'I dare say you would not,' quoth Dr. Slop, interrupting him, and laughing greatly at his pun.


_Dennis_ the critic could not detest and abhor a pun, or the insinuation of a pun, more cordially than my father; --he would grow testy upon it at any time; --but to be broke in upon by one, in a serious discourse, was as bad, he would say, as a fillip upon the nose; ----he saw no difference.

No critic could detest a pun more than my father; it annoyed him at any time; - but to be broke in upon by one, in a serious discussion, was as bad, he would say, as a fillip upon the nose.


Sir, quoth my uncle _Toby_, addressing himself to Dr. _Slop_, --the curtins my brother _Shandy_ mentions here, have nothing to do with bedsteads; --tho', I know _Du Cange_ says, "That bed-curtains, in all probability, have taken their name from them;" --nor have the hornworks he speaks of, anything in the world to do with the horn-works of cuckoldom: --But the _Curtin_, Sir, is the word we use in fortification, for that part of the wall or rampart which lies between the two bastions and joins them --Besiegers seldom offer to carry on their attacks directly against the curtin, for this reason, because they are so well _flanked_. ('Tis the case of other curtains, quoth Dr. _Slop_, laughing.) However, continued my uncle _Toby_, to make them sure, we generally choose to place ravelins before them, taking care only to extend them beyond the foss or ditch: ----The common men, who know very little of fortification, confound the ravelin and the half-moon together, --tho' they are very different things; --not in their figure or construction, for we make them exactly alike, in all points; --for they always consist of two faces, making a salient angle, with the gorges, not straight, but in form of a crescent: ----Where then lies the difference? (quoth my father, a little testily). --In their situations, answered my uncle _Toby_: --For when a ravelin, brother, stands before the curtin, it is a ravelin; and when a ravelin stands before a bastion, then the ravelin is not a ravelin; --it is a half-moon; --a half-moon likewise is a half-moon, and no more, so long as it stands before its bastion; ----but was it to change place, and get before the curtin, --'twould be no longer a half-moon; a half-moon, in that case, is not a half-moon; --'tis no more than a ravelin. ----I think, quoth my father, that the noble science of defence has its weak sides----as well as others.

'Sir,' quoth my uncle Toby to Dr. Slop, 'the curtins my brother Shandy mentions have nothing to do with bedsteads; - though, I know Du Cange says that bed-curtains, in all probability, have taken their name from them. - Nor have the hornworks he speaks of, anything to do with the horn-works of cuckoldom. The Curtin, Sir, is the word we use in fortification, for that part of the rampart which lies between two bastions. Besiegers seldom attack the curtins directly, because they are so well flanked.'
''Tis the case of other curtains,' quoth Dr. Slop, laughing.
'However,' continued my uncle Toby, 'to make them sure, we generally place ravelins before them, taking care only to extend them beyond the foss or ditch. - Men who know little of fortification, confound the ravelin and the half-moon, though they are very different things; - not in their construction, for we make them exactly alike; for they always consist of two faces, making a salient angle with the gorges, not straight, but in a crescent.'
'Where then lies the difference?' quoth my father, a little testily.
'In their situations,' answered my uncle. 'For when a ravelin, brother, stands before the curtin, it is a ravelin; and when it stands before a bastion, then it is not a ravelin; - it is a half-moon; a half-moon likewise is a half-moon so long as it stands before its bastion; - but was it to get before the curtin, 'twould be no more than a ravelin.'
'I think,' quoth my father, 'that the noble science of defence has its weak sides.'


--As for the horn-work (high! ho! sigh'd my father) which, continued my uncle _Toby_, my brother was speaking of, they are a very considerable part of an outwork; ----they are called by the _French_ engineers, _Ouvrage corne_, and we generally make them to cover such places as we suspect to be weaker than the rest; --'tis formed by two epaulments or demi-bastions--they are very pretty, --and if you will take a walk, I'll engage to shew you one well worth your trouble. --I own, continued my uncle _Toby_, when we crown them, --they are much stronger, but then they are very expensive, and take up a great deal of ground, so that, in my opinion, they are most of use to cover or defend the head of a camp; otherwise the double tenaille --By the mother who bore us! ----brother _Toby_, quoth my father, not able to hold out any longer, ----you would provoke a saint; ----here have you got us, I know not how, not only souse into the middle of the old subject again: --But so full is your head of these confounded works, that though my wife is this moment in the pains of labour, and you hear her cry out, yet nothing will serve you but to carry off the man-midwife. ----_Accoucheur_, --if you please, quoth Dr. _Slop_. ----With all my heart, replied my father, I don't care what they call you, --but I wish the whole science of fortification, with all its inventors, at the devil; --it has been the death of thousands, --and it will be mine in the end, --I would not, I would not, brother _Toby_, have my brains so full of saps, mines, blinds, gabions, pallisadoes, ravelins, half-moons, and such trumpery, to be proprietor of _Namur_, and of all the towns in _Flanders_ with it.

'As for the hornworks-' ('High! ho!' sighed my father) 'which,' continued my uncle Toby, 'my brother was speaking of, they are part of an outwork; they are called by French engineers, Ouvrage corne, and we make them to cover such places as we suspect to be weaker than the rest. - 'Tis formed by two epaulments or demi-bastions - they are very pretty, and if you will take a walk, I'll show you one well worth your trouble. I admit when we crown them, they are much stronger, but then they are very expensive, and take up a great deal of ground, so that, in my opinion-'
'By the mother who bore us! brother Toby,' quoth my father, not able to hold out any longer, 'you would provoke a saint. Here you have got us, I know not how, into the middle of the old subject again. So full is your head of these confounded works, that though my wife is this moment in labour, and you hear her cry out, yet you want to carry off the man-midwife.'
'Accoucheur, if you please,' quoth Dr. Slop.
'Certainly,' replied my father. 'I don't care what they call you, - but I wish the whole science of fortification at the devil; it will be the death of me. I would not, brother Toby, have my brains so full of saps, mines, blinds, pallisadoes, ravelins, half-moons, and such trumpery, if it made me owner of all the towns in Flanders.'


My uncle _Toby_ was a man patient of injuries; --not from want of courage, --I have told you in a former chapter, "that he was a man of courage:" --And will add here, that where just occasions presented, or called it forth, --I know no man under whose arm I would have sooner taken shelter; ----nor did this arise from any insensibility or obtuseness of his intellectual parts; --for he felt this insult of my father's as feelingly as a man could do; --but he was of a peaceful, placid nature, --no jarring element in it, --all was mixed up so kindly within him; my uncle _Toby_ had scarce a heart to retaliate upon a fly.

My uncle Toby was a man of courage: and I know no man under whose arm I would have sooner taken shelter. He felt this insult of my father's as feelingly as a man could do; - but he was of a peaceful, placid nature, with scarce a heart to retaliate upon a fly.


--Go--says he, one day at dinner, to an over-grown one which had buzzed about his nose, and tormented him cruelly all dinner-time, --and which after infinite attempts, he had caught at last, as it flew by him; --I'll not hurt thee, says my uncle _Toby_, rising from his chair, and going across the room, with the fly in his hand, ----I'll not hurt a hair of thy head: --Go, says he, lifting up the sash, and opening his hand as he spoke, to let it escape; --go, poor devil, get thee gone, why should I hurt thee? ----This world surely is wide enough to hold both thee and me.

'Go,' says he, one day at dinner, to one which had buzzed about his nose, and tormented him all dinner-time, and which, after infinite attempts, he had caught at last; - 'I'll not hurt thee,' says my uncle Toby, going across the room, with the fly in his hand, - 'Go,' says he, lifting up the sash, and letting it escape; 'poor devil, get thee gone, why should I hurt thee? This world is wide enough to hold both thee and me.'


I was but ten years old when this happened: but whether it was, that the action itself was more in unison to my nerves at that age of pity, which instantly set my whole frame into one vibration of most pleasurable sensation; --or how far the manner and expression of it might go towards it; --or in what degree, or by what secret magick, --a tone of voice and harmony of movement, attuned by mercy, might find a passage to my heart, I know not; --this I know, that the lesson of universal good-will then taught and imprinted by my uncle _Toby_, has never since been worn out of my mind: And tho' I would not depreciate what the study of the _Liter humaniores_, at the university, have done for me in that respect, or discredit the other helps of an expensive education bestowed upon me, both at home and abroad since; --yet I often think that I owe one half of my philanthropy to that one accidental impression.

I was but ten years old when this happened: but this action instantly set my whole frame into one vibration of most pleasurable sensation; how far the manner and expression of it, or a tone of voice attuned by mercy, might find a passage to my heart, I know not. This I know, that the lesson of universal good-will then taught by my uncle Toby, has never since been worn out of my mind. And though I would not depreciate what university study has done for me, or discredit the other helps of an expensive education; - yet I often think that I owe half of my philanthropy to that one accidental impression.


[-->] This is to serve for parents and governors instead of a whole volume upon the subject.

[This is to serve for parents instead of a whole volume upon the subject.]


I could not give the reader this stroke in my uncle _Toby's_ picture, by the instrument with which I drew the other parts of it, --that taking in no more than the mere HOBBY-HORSICAL likeness: ----this is a part of his moral character. My father, in this patient endurance of wrongs, which I mention, was very different, as the reader must long ago have noted; he had a much more acute and quick sensibility of nature, attended with a little soreness of temper; tho' this never transported him to anything which looked like malignancy: --yet in the little rubs and vexations of life, 'twas apt to shew itself in a drollish and witty kind of peevishness: ----He was, however, frank and generous in his nature; ----at all times open to conviction; and in the little ebullitions of this subacid humour towards others, but particularly towards my uncle _Toby_, whom he truly loved: ----he would feel more pain, ten times told (except in the affair of my aunt _Dinah_, or where an hypothesis was concerned) than what he ever gave.

I could not draw this stroke in my uncle Toby's picture, by the instrument with which I drew the other parts of it, that mere Hobby-Horsical likeness: - this is a part of his moral character.
My father was very different in his endurance of wrongs; he had a much more acute sensibility, and a little soreness of temper; though this never extended to malignancy: - yet in the small vexations of life, 'twas apt to show itself in a witty kind of peevishness. He was, however, frank and generous; and in the little bubblings-up of this acid humour towards others, but particularly towards my uncle Toby, whom he truly loved, he would feel more ten times more pain than he ever gave (except in the affair of my aunt Dinah, or where an hypothesis was concerned).


The characters of the two brothers, in this view of them, reflected light upon each other, and appeared with great advantage in this affair which arose about _Stevinus_.

The characters of the two brothers appeared with great advantage in this affair of Stevinus.


I need not tell the reader, if he keeps a HOBBY-HORSE, ----that a man's HOBBY-HORSE is as tender a part as he has about him; and that these unprovoked strokes at my uncle _Toby's_ could not be unfelt by him. ----No: ------as I said above, my uncle _Toby_ did feel them, and very sensibly too.

I need not tell the reader that a man's Hobby-Horse is the tenderest part he has; and these unprovoked blows at my uncle Toby's Hobby-Horse were felt by him.


Pray, Sir, what said he? --How did he behave? --O, Sir! --it was great: For as soon as my father had done insulting his HOBBY-HORSE, ------he turned his head without the least emotion, from Dr. _Slop_, to whom he was addressing his discourse, and looking up into my father's face, with a countenance spread over with so much good-nature; ----so placid; ----so fraternal; ----so inexpressibly tender towards him: --it penetrated my father to his heart: He rose up hastily from his chair, and seizing hold of both my uncle _Toby's_ hands as he spoke: --Brother _Toby_, said he, --I beg thy pardon; ----forgive, I pray thee, this rash humour which my mother gave me. ----My dear, dear brother, answered my uncle _Toby_, rising up by my father's help, say no more about it; --you are heartily welcome, had it been ten times as much, brother. But 'tis ungenerous, replied my father, to hurt any man; ----a brother worse; ----but to hurt a brother of such gentle manners, --so unprovoking, --and so unresenting; ----'tis base: ----By Heaven, 'tis cowardly. --You are heartily welcome, brother, quoth my uncle _Toby_, ------had it been fifty times as much. ----Besides, what have I to do, my dear _Toby_, cried my father, either with your amusements or your pleasures, unless it was in my power (which it is not) to increase their measure?

- Pray, Sir, what said he? How did he behave?
- O, Sir! - it was great. For when my father had finished insulting his Hobby-Horse, my uncle turned his head, and looked into my father's face with so much good-nature; so placid - so fraternal - so inexpressibly tender, it penetrated my father to his heart. He rose up hastily from his chair, seizing my uncle Toby's hands.
'Brother Toby,' said he, 'I beg thy pardon; forgive me.'
'My dear, dear brother,' answered my uncle, 'say no more about it; you are heartily welcome, brother.'
'But 'tis ungenerous,' replied my father, 'to hurt any man; - a brother worse; but to hurt a brother of such gentle manners, - 'tis base: 'tis cowardly. Besides, what have I to do, my dear Toby, with your pleasures, unless it was in my power (which it is not) to increase them?'


----Brother _Shandy_, answered my uncle _Toby_, looking wistfully in his face, ----you are much mistaken in this point: --for you do increase my pleasure very much, in begetting children for the _Shandy_ family at your time of life. --But, by that, Sir, quoth Dr. _Slop_, Mr. _Shandy_ increases his own. --Not a jot, quoth my father.

'Brother Shandy,' answered my uncle Toby, looking wistfully in his face, 'you do increase my pleasure very much, in begetting children for the Shandy family at your time of life.'
'By that, Sir,' quoth Dr. Slop, 'Mr. Shandy increases his own pleasure.'
'Not a jot,' quoth my father.


----I won't go about to argue the point with you--'tis so----and I am persuaded of it, madam, as much as can be, "That both man and woman bear pain or sorrow (and, for aught I know, pleasure too) best in a horizontal position."

I am persuaded, madam, 'That both man and woman bear pain or sorrow (and, for aught I know, pleasure too) best in a horizontal position.'


The moment my father got up into his chamber, he threw himself prostrate across the bed in the wildest disorder imaginable, but at the same time in the most lamentable attitude of a man borne down with sorrows, that ever the eye of pity dropp'd a tear for. ----The palm of his right hand, as he fell upon the bed, receiving his forehead, and covering the greatest part of both his eyes, gently sunk down with his head (his elbow giving way backwards) till his nose touch'd the quilt; ----his left arm hung insensible over the side of the bed, his knuckles reclining upon the handle of the chamber-pot, which peep'd out beyond the valance--his right leg (his left being drawn up towards his body) hung half over the side of the bed, the edge of it pressing upon his shin-bone --He felt it not. A fix'd, inflexible sorrow took possession of every line of his face. --He sigh'd once----heaved his breast often--but uttered not a word.

The moment my father got into his chamber, he wildly threw himself prostrate across the bed in the attitude of a man borne down with sorrows. - The palm of his right hand covering both his eyes, he gently sunk down till his nose touched the quilt; his left arm hung over the side of the bed, his knuckles reclining upon the handle of the chamber-pot - his right leg dangled half over the bed, the edge of it pressing on his shin-bone.
- He felt it not. Sorrow took possession of every line of his face. He sighed once - heaved his breast often - but uttered not a word.


An old set-stitch'd chair, valanced and fringed around with party-coloured worsted bobs, stood at the bed's head, opposite to the side where my father's head reclined. --My uncle _Toby_ sat him down in it.

An old chair, fringed with woollen bobs, stood at the bed's head. My uncle Toby sat down in it.


Before an affliction is digested--consolation ever comes too soon; --and after it is digested--it comes too late: so that you see, madam, there is but a mark between these two, as fine almost as a hair, for a comforter to take aim at: my uncle _Toby_ was always either on this side, or on that of it, and would often say, he believed in his heart he could as soon hit the longitude; for this reason, when he sat down in the chair, he drew the curtain a little forwards, and having a tear at every one's service----he pull'd out a cambrick handkerchief----gave a low sigh----but held his peace.

Before an affliction is digested, consolation always comes too soon; and after it is digested - it comes too late: so that you see, madam, there is only a mark between these two as fine as a hair, for a comforter to take aim at. My uncle Toby was always either on this side, or on that of it, and did not believe he could hit the mark; therefore, when he sat down, he drew the curtain a little, pulled out a handkerchief - gave a low sigh - but held his peace.


The fifteenth chapter is come at last; and brings nothing with it but a sad signature of "How our pleasures slip from under us in this world!"

The fifteenth chapter is come at last; and brings nothing with it a sad example of 'How our pleasures slip from under us in this world!'


For in talking of my digression ----I declare before heaven I have made it! What a strange creature is mortal man! said she.

For in talking of my digression - I declare before heaven I have made it! What a strange creature is mortal man!


'Tis very true, said I----but 'twere better to get all these things out of our heads, and return to my uncle _Toby_.

Better get all these things out of our heads, and return to my uncle Toby.


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

When a man's wishes hurry on his ideas ninety times faster than the vehicle he rides in - woe be to truth! and woe be to the vehicle upon which he breathes forth his disappointment!


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

As I never describe men or things in anger, 'more haste less speed,' was all the reflection I made upon the affair, the first time it happened. The second, third, fourth, and fifth time, I blamed only the second, third, fourth, and fifth post-boys, without reflecting further; but when the event befell me a sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth time, I could not avoid making a national reflection:


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


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

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


What's wrong now? ----Diable! ----a rope's broke! ----a knot has slipt! ----a staple's drawn! ----a bolt's to whittle! ----a tag, a rag, a jag, a strap, a buckle, or a buckle's tongue, want altering.

What's wrong now?
Diable! - a rope's broke! - a knot has slipped! - a staple's drawn! - a tag, a rag, a jag, a strap, a buckle, wants altering.


Now true as all this is, I never think myself impowered to excommunicate thereupon either the post-chaise, or its driver----nor do I take it into my head to swear by the living G--, I would rather go a-foot ten thousand times----or that I will be damn'd, if ever I get into another----but I take the matter coolly before me, and consider, that some tag, or rag, or jag, or bolt, or buckle, or buckle's tongue, will ever be a wanting, or want altering, travel where I will--so I never chaff, but take the good and the bad as they fall in my road, and get on: ----Do so, my lad! said I; he had lost five minutes already, in alighting in order to get at a luncheon of black bread, which he had cramm'd into the chaise-pocket, and was remounted, and going leisurely on, to relish it the better ----Get on, my lad, said I, briskly--but in the most persuasive tone imaginable, for I jingled a four-and-twenty sous piece against the glass, taking care to hold the flat side towards him, as he look'd back: the dog grinn'd intelligence from his right ear to his left, and behind his sooty muzzle discovered such a pearly row of teeth, that _Sovereignty_ would have pawn'd her jewels for them.----

Now, I never swear at the post-chaise, or its driver - but I take the matter coolly, and consider that some tag, rag, jag, strap or buckle will always want altering, wherever I travel. So I take the good and the bad as they fall in my road, and get on.
'Do so, my lad!' said I; he had lost five minutes already, in alighting to get a luncheon of black bread, which he had crammed into the chaise-pocket, and he had remounted and was going leisurely on, to relish it the better - 'Get on, my lad,' said I, briskly - but in the most persuasive tone imaginable, for I jingled a coin against the glass: the dog grinned from ear to ear, and behind his sooty muzzle uncovered a pearly row of teeth.


Just heaven! {What masticators! -- {What bread!--


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

- and so as he finished his last mouthful, we entered the town of Montreuil.


I would not give a groat for that man's knowledge in pencraft, who does not understand this, ----That the best plain narrative in the world, tacked very close to the last spirited apostrophe to my uncle _Toby_----would have felt both cold and vapid upon the reader's palate; --therefore I forthwith put an end to the chapter, though I was in the middle of my story.

Any writer understands this, - that the best narrative in the world, tacked too close to the last spirited appeal to my uncle Toby, would have felt cold and vapid; therefore I ended the chapter, though I was in the middle of my story.


------Writers of my stamp have one principle in common with painters. Where an exact copying makes our pictures less striking, we choose the less evil; deeming it even more pardonable to trespass against truth, than beauty. This is to be understood _cum grano salis_; but be it as it will, --as the parallel is made more for the sake of letting the apostrophe cool, than any thing else, --'tis not very material whether upon any other score the reader approves of it or not.

Writers of my stamp have one principle in common with painters. Where exact copying makes our pictures less striking, we think it more pardonable to trespass against truth, than beauty. This is to be understood with a grain of salt; but as the parallel is made more for the sake of letting the last chapter cool, than anything else, it does not matter greatly whether the reader approves of it or not.


In the latter end of the third year, my uncle _Toby_ perceiving that the parameter and semiparameter of the conic section angered his wound, he left off the study of projectiles in a kind of a huff, and betook himself to the practical part of fortification only; the pleasure of which, like a spring held back, returned upon him with redoubled force.

In the latter end of the third year, my uncle Toby, seeing that the parameter and semiparameter of the conic section angered his wound, left off the study of projectiles in a kind of a huff, and kept to the practical part of fortification only; the pleasure of which, like a spring held back, returned upon him with redoubled force.


It was in this year that my uncle began to break in upon the daily regularity of a clean shirt, ----to dismiss his barber unshaven, ----and to allow his surgeon scarce time sufficient to dress his wound, concerning himself so little about it, as not to ask him once in seven times dressing, how it went on: when, lo! --all of a sudden, for the change was quick as lightning, he began to sigh heavily for his recovery, ----complained to my father, grew impatient with the surgeon: ----and one morning, as he heard his foot coming up stairs, he shut up his books, and thrust aside his instruments, in order to expostulate with him upon the protraction of the cure, which, he told him, might surely have been accomplished at least by that time: --He dwelt long upon the miseries he had undergone, and the sorrows of his four years melancholy imprisonment; --adding, that had it not been for the kind looks and fraternal chearings of the best of brothers, --he had long since sunk under his misfortunes. ----My father was by: My uncle _Toby's_ eloquence brought tears into his eyes; ----'twas unexpected: ----My uncle _Toby_, by nature was not eloquent; --it had the greater effect: ----The surgeon was confounded; ----not that there wanted grounds for such, or greater marks of impatience, --but 'twas unexpected too; in the four years he had attended him, he had never seen anything like it in my uncle _Toby's_ carriage; he had never once dropped one fretful or discontented word; ----he had been all patience, --all submission.

It was in this year that my uncle began to cease to wear a clean shirt daily, - to dismiss his barber unshaven, and to allow his surgeon scarce time enough to dress his wound: lo! all of a sudden, he began to sigh heavily for his recovery, - complained to my father, and grew impatient with the surgeon. One morning, as he heard him coming up stairs, he shut his books, in order to expostulate with him. He dwelt long upon the miseries he had undergone in the last four melancholy years; - adding, that had it not been for his brother's kindness, he would have sunk under his misfortunes.
My father was nearby: my uncle Toby's unexpected eloquence brought tears into his eyes. The surgeon was confounded; in the four years he had attended him, my uncle Toby had never dropped one fretful word; - he had been all submission.


--We lose the right of complaining sometimes by forbearing it; --but we often treble the force: --The surgeon was astonished; but much more so, when he heard my uncle _Toby_ go on, and peremptorily insist upon his healing up the wound directly, --or sending for Monsieur _Ronjat_, the king's serjeant-surgeon, to do it for him.

So the surgeon was astonished when he heard my uncle peremptorily insist upon his healing the wound directly, or sending for the king's surgeon to do it for him.


The desire of life and health is implanted in man's nature; ----the love of liberty and enlargement is a sister-passion to it: These my uncle _Toby_ had in common with his species; ----and either of them had been sufficient to account for his earnest desire to get well and out of doors; ----but I have told you before, that nothing wrought with our family after the common way; ----and from the time and manner in which this eager desire shewed itself in the present case, the penetrating reader will suspect there was some other cause or crotchet for it in my uncle _Toby's_ head: ----There was so, and 'tis the subject of the next chapter to set forth what that cause and crotchet was. I own, when that's done, 'twill be time to return back to the parlour fire-side, where we left my uncle _Toby_ in the middle of his sentence.

Mu uncle Toby had a desire of life and health in common with his species; but I have told you before, that nothing affected our family the common way; and from the manner in which this eager desire now showed itself, the penetrating reader will suspect there was some other cause for it in my uncle's head.
'Tis the subject of the next chapter to set forth what that cause was. When that's done, 'twill be time to return to the parlour fire-side, where we left my uncle Toby in the middle of his sentence.


Your honour, said _Trim_, shutting the parlour-door before he began to speak, has heard, I imagine, of this unlucky accident ----O yes, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, and it gives me great concern. --I am heartily concerned too, but I hope your honour, replied _Trim_, will do me the justice to believe, that it was not in the least owing to me. ----To thee--_Trim?_ --cried my uncle _Toby_, looking kindly in his face------'twas _Susannah's_ and the curate's folly betwixt them. ------What business could they have together, an' please your honour, in the garden? ----In the gallery thou meanest, replied my uncle _Toby_.

'Your honour,' said Trim, shutting the parlour-door, 'has heard, I imagine, of the unlucky accident?'
'O yes, Trim,' said my uncle Toby, 'and it gives me great concern.'
'I am heartily concerned too,' replied Trim, 'but I hope your honour will believe that it was not in the least owing to me.'
'To thee, Trim?' cried my uncle Toby kindly. ''Twas Susannah's and the curate's folly betwixt them.'
'What business could they have together in the garden?'
'In the gallery, thou meanest,' replied my uncle.


_Trim_ found he was upon a wrong scent, and stopped short with a low bow ----Two misfortunes, quoth the corporal to himself, are twice as many at least as are needful to be talked over at one time; ----the mischief the cow has done in breaking into the fortifications, may be told his honour hereafter. ----_Trim's_ casuistry and address, under the cover of his low bow, prevented all suspicion in my uncle _Toby_, so he went on with what he had to say to _Trim_ as follows:

Trim found he was upon a wrong scent, and stopped short. Two misfortunes, quoth he to himself, are twice as many as are needed now; - the mischief the cow has done in breaking into the fortifications, may be told to his honour later.
My uncle Toby, free of all suspicion, went on:


------For my own part, _Trim_, though I can see little or no difference betwixt my nephew's being called _Tristram_ or _Trismegistus_--yet as the thing sits so near my brother's heart, _Trim_ ------I would freely have given a hundred pounds rather than it should have happened. ----A hundred pounds, an' please your honour! replied _Trim_, ----I would not give a cherry-stone to boot. ----Nor would I, _Trim_, upon my own account, quoth my uncle _Toby_, --------but my brother, whom there is no arguing with in this case--maintains that a great deal more depends, _Trim_, upon christian-names, than what ignorant people imagine----for he says there never was a great or heroic action performed since the world began by one called _Tristram_--nay, he will have it, _Trim_, that a man can neither be learned, or wise, or brave. ----'Tis all fancy, an' please your honour --I fought just as well, replied the corporal, when the regiment called me _Trim_, as when they called me _James Butler_. ----And for my own part, said my uncle _Toby_, though I should blush to boast of myself, _Trim_----yet had my name been _Alexander_, I could have done no more at _Namur_ than my duty. --Bless your honour! cried _Trim_, advancing three steps as he spoke, does a man think of his christian-name when he goes upon the attack? ------Or when he stands in the trench, _Trim?_ cried my uncle _Toby_, looking firm. ----Or when he enters a breach? said _Trim_, pushing in between two chairs. ----Or forces the lines? cried my uncle, rising up, and pushing his crutch like a pike. ----Or facing a platoon? cried _Trim_, presenting his stick like a fire-lock. ----Or when he marches up the glacis? cried my uncle _Toby_, looking warm and setting his foot upon his stool.------

'For my own part, Trim, I can see little difference betwixt my nephew's being called Tristram or Trismegistus - though as it sits so near my brother's heart, I would have given a hundred pounds for it not to have happened.'
'A hundred pounds, your honour!' replied Trim. 'I would not give a cherry-stone.'
'Nor would I, Trim, upon my own account; but my brother, whom there is no arguing with in this case, maintains that a great deal depends upon christian-names - and he says there never was an heroic action performed by one called Tristram. He holds that a Tristram cannot be learned, wise, or brave.'
''Tis all fancy, your honour - I fought just as well,' replied the corporal, 'when the regiment called me Trim, as when they called me James Butler.'
'For my own part,' said my uncle Toby, 'though I should blush to boast, Trim - yet had my name been Alexander, I could have done no more at Namur than my duty.'
'Bless your honour!' cried Trim, 'does a man think of his christian-name when he goes upon the attack?'
'Or when he stands in the trench, Trim?' cried my uncle.
'Or when he enters a breach?' said Trim, pushing between two chairs.
'Or forces the lines?' said my uncle, rising up.
'Or faces a platoon?' cried Trim, raising his stick.
'Or when he marches up the glacis?' cried my uncle Toby warmly, as he set his foot upon the stool.


The draw-bridge being held irreparable, _Trim_ was ordered directly to set about another------but not upon the same model: for cardinal _Alberoni's_ intrigues at that time being discovered, and my uncle _Toby_ rightly foreseeing that a flame would inevitably break out betwixt _Spain_ and the Empire, and that the operations of the ensuing campaign must in all likelihood be either in _Naples_ or _Sicily_----he determined upon an _Italian_ bridge--(my uncle _Toby_, by the bye, was not far out of his conjectures)----but my father, who was infinitely the better politician, and took the lead as far of my uncle _Toby_ in the cabinet, as my uncle _Toby_ took it of him in the field------convinced him, that if the king of _Spain_ and the Emperor went together by the ears, _England_ and _France_ and _Holland_ must, by force of their pre-engagements, all enter the lists too; ----and if so, he would say, the combatants, brother _Toby_, as sure as we are alive, will fall to it again, pell-mell, upon the old prizefighting stage of _Flanders_; --then what will you do with your _Italian_ bridge?

The draw-bridge being irreparable, Trim was ordered to start another - but not upon the same model: for my uncle Toby rightly foreseeing that warfare would break out betwixt Spain and the Empire, and that the campaign must in all likelihood be in Naples or Sicily, he determined upon an Italian bridge.


--We will go on with it then upon the old model, cried my uncle _Toby_.


When Corporal _Trim_ had about half finished it in that style----my uncle _Toby_ found out a capital defect in it, which he had never thoroughly considered before. It turned, it seems, upon hinges at both ends of it, opening in the middle, one half of which turning to one side of the fosse, and the other to the other; the advantage of which was this, that by dividing the weight of the bridge into two equal portions, it impowered my uncle _Toby_ to raise it up or let it down with the end of his crutch, and with one hand, which, as his garrison was weak, was as much as he could well spare--but the disadvantages of such a construction were insurmountable; ----for by this means, he would say, I leave one half of my bridge in my enemy's possession----and pray of what use is the other?

When Corporal Trim had about half finished it, my uncle Toby found a defect which he had never considered before. The draw-bridge turned upon hinges at both ends, opening in the middle, one half turning to one side of the fosse, and the other to the other.
The advantage of this was, that by dividing the weight of the bridge into two equal portions, it allowed my uncle to raise it up or let it down with the end of his crutch; but the disadvantages were great - 'for by this means,' he would say, 'I leave one half of my bridge in my enemy's possession, and pray of what use is the other?'


The natural remedy for this was, no doubt, to have his bridge fast only at one end with hinges, so that the whole might be lifted up together, and stand bolt upright------but that was rejected for the reason given above.

The natural remedy for this was to have his bridge fastened only at one end with hinges, so that the whole might be lifted up together, and stand bolt upright - but that would require too much strength to operate.


For a whole week after he was determined in his mind to have one of that particular construction which is made to draw back horizontally, to hinder a passage; and to thrust forwards again to gain a passage--of which sorts your worship might have seen three famous ones at _Spires_ before its destruction--and one now at _Brisac_, if I mistake not; --but my father advising my uncle _Toby_, with great earnestness, to have nothing more to do with thrusting bridges--and my uncle foreseeing moreover that it would but perpetuate the memory of the Corporal's misfortune--he changed his mind for that of the marquis _d'Hpital's_ invention, which the younger _Bernouilli_ has so well and learnedly described, as your worships may see------_Act. Erud. Lips._ an. 1695--to these a lead weight is an eternal balance, and keeps watch as well as a couple of centinels, inasmuch as the construction of them was a curve line approximating to a cycloid------if not a cycloid itself.

For a whole week, my uncle Toby was determined to have one constructed to draw back horizontally, to hinder a passage; and to thrust forwards again to gain a passage - but on my father advising him earnestly to have nothing more to do with thrusting bridges, he changed his mind for that of the marquis d'Hpital's invention: with a lead weight as an eternal balance, constructed in a curve approximating to a cycloid - if not a cycloid itself.


My uncle _Toby_ understood the nature of a parabola as well as any man in _England_--but was not quite such a master of the cycloid; ----he talked however about it every day----the bridge went not forwards. ----We'll ask somebody about it, cried my uncle _Toby_ to _Trim_.

My uncle Toby understood the nature of a parabola as well as any man in England, but was not quite such a master of the cycloid.
'We'll ask somebody about it,' he cried to Trim.


Though in one sense, our family was certainly a simple machine, as it consisted of a few wheels; yet there was thus much to be said for it, that these wheels were set in motion by so many different springs, and acted one upon the other from such a variety of strange principles and impulses----that though it was a simple machine, it had all the honour and advantages of a complex one, ----and a number of as odd movements within it, as ever were beheld in the inside of a _Dutch_ silk-mill.

Though in one sense, our family was a simple machine, consisting of only a few wheels; yet these wheels were set in motion by so many different springs, and such a variety of strange principles and impulses - that although it was a simple machine, it had all the appearance of a complex one, with as many odd movements within it as ever were beheld in the inside of a Dutch silk-mill.


Amongst these there was one, I am going to speak of, in which, perhaps, it was not altogether so singular, as in many others; and it was this, that whatever motion, debate, harangue, dialogue, project, or dissertation, was going forwards in the parlour, there was generally another at the same time, and upon the same subject, running parallel along with it in the kitchen.

Amongst them was this effect: that whatever debate or dialogue was going on in the parlour, there was generally another at the same time, and upon the same subject, running parallel along with it in the kitchen.


Now to bring this about, whenever an extraordinary message, or letter, was delivered in the parlour--or a discourse suspended till a servant went out--or the lines of discontent were observed to hang upon the brows of my father or mother--or, in short, when anything was supposed to be upon the tapis worth knowing or listening to, 'twas the rule to leave the door, not absolutely shut, but somewhat a-jar--as it stands just now, --which, under covert of the bad hinge (and that possibly might be one of the many reasons why it was never mended), it was not difficult to manage; by which means, in all these cases, a passage was generally left, not indeed as wide as the _Dardanelles_, but wide enough, for all that, to carry on as much of this wind-ward trade, as was sufficient to save my father the trouble of governing his house; --my mother at this moment stands profiting by it. --_Obadiah_ did the same thing, as soon as he had left the letter upon the table which brought the news of my brother's death, so that before my father had well got over his surprise, and entered upon this harangue, --had _Trim_ got upon his legs, to speak his sentiments upon the subject.

Now to bring this about, whenever an extraordinary message or letter was delivered in the parlour - or my mother or father were observed by the servants to be arguing or discontented - in short, when there was anything worth knowing or listening to, 'twas the rule to leave the door not absolutely shut, but somewhat ajar - as it stands just now - which, under cover of the bad hinge (and that might be one of the many reasons why it was never mended) was not difficult to manage.
My mother at this moment stands profiting by this gap. - Obadiah did the same thing, as soon as he had left the letter with the news of my brother's death; so that before my father had got over his surprise, and begun his speech, Trim in the kitchen had stood up to speak his sentiments on the subject.


A curious observer of nature, had he been worth the inventory of all Job's stock--though by the by, _your curious observers are seldom worth a groat_--would have given the half of it, to have heard Corporal _Trim_ and my father, two orators so contrasted by nature and education, haranguing over the same bier.

A curious observer would have given a great deal to have heard Corporal Trim and my father, two orators so contrasted by nature and education, haranguing over the same bier.


My father--a man of deep reading--prompt memory--with _Cato_, and _Seneca_, and _Epictetus_, at his fingers ends.--

My father - a man of deep reading and prompt memory - with Cato and Seneca at his fingers' ends.


The corporal--with nothing--to remember--of no deeper reading than his muster-roll--or greater names at his fingers end, than the contents of it.

The corporal - with no deeper reading than his muster-roll.


The one proceeding from period to period, by metaphor and allusion, and striking the fancy as he went along (as men of wit and fancy do) with the entertainment and pleasantry of his pictures and images.

The one proceeding from metaphor to allusion, and striking the fancy as he went along with the pleasantry of his images.


The other, without wit or antithesis, or point, or turn, this way or that; but leaving the images on one side, and the picture on the other, going straight forwards as nature could lead him, to the heart. O _Trim!_ would to heaven thou had'st a better historian! --would thy historian had a better pair of breeches! ----O ye critics! will nothing melt you?

The other, without wit or antithesis, leaving the images aside, and going straight to the heart. O Trim! would to heaven thou had'st a better historian! - O ye critics! will nothing melt you?


I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.


I had three several times loiter'd _terribly_ behind; half a mile at least every time; once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, who was making drums for the fairs of _Baucaira_ and _Tarascone_ --I did not understand the principles----

I had three times loitered terribly behind, half a mile at least every time; once, talking to a drum-maker - I did not understand his craft-


The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd----for meeting a couple of _Franciscans_ straitened more for time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about ----I had turn'd back with them----

The second time, I met a couple of Franciscans more short of time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about - I had turned back with them-


The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand-basket of _Provence_ figs for four sous; this would have been transacted at once; but for a case of conscience at the close of it; for when the figs were paid for, it turn'd out, that there were two dozen of eggs cover'd over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket--as I had no intention of buying eggs --I made no sort of claim of them--as for the space they had occupied--what signified it? I had figs enow for my money----

The third time was to trade with a gossip, a basket of Provence figs for four sous; but when the figs were paid for, it turned out that there were two dozen eggs covered with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket. I had no intention of buying eggs-


--But it was my intention to have the basket--it was the gossip's intention to keep it, without which, she could do nothing with her eggs----and unless I had the basket, I could do as little with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short contention, which terminated in sundry proposals, what we should both do----

But I wanted the basket - and the gossip wanted to keep it, or she could do nothing with her eggs - and without it I could do nothing with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short argument, which ended in different proposals about what we should both do.


----How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you, or the Devil himself, had he not been there (which I am persuaded he was), to form the least probable conjecture: You will read the whole of it------not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle _Toby's_ amours--but you will read it in the collection of those which have arose out of the journey across this plain--and which, therefore, I call my

- How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you to guess. You will read the whole of it - not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle Toby's amours - but you will read it in the collection of stories which arose out of the journey across this plain - and which, therefore, I call my


How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a track--the world must judge--but the traces of it, which are now all set o' vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no convention with my man with the gun, as to time--by stopping and talking to every soul I met, who was not in a full trot--joining all parties before me--waiting for every soul behind--hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads--arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars----not passing by a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff ------In short, by seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held out to me in this journey --I turned my _plain_ into a _city_ --I was always in company, and with great variety too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he met --I am confident we could have passed through _Pall-Mall_, or St. _James's_-Street for a month together, with fewer adventures--and seen less of human nature.

How fatigued my pen has been in this journey over so barren a track, the world must judge - but the traces of it, which are all vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no agreement with my man with the gun, as to time - by stopping and talking to every soul I met - joining all parties before me - waiting for everyone behind - hailing all kinds of pilgrims, fiddlers and friars - not passing a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff-
In short, by seizing every handle which chance held out to me in this journey, I turned my plain into a city. - I was always in company, and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals to offer to every beast he met - I am confident we could have passed through London for a month with fewer adventures.


O! there is that sprightly frankness, which at once unpins every plait of a _Languedocian's_ dress--that whatever is beneath it, it looks so like the simplicity which poets sing of in better days --I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so.

O! there is that sprightly frankness in the Languedocians that looks like the simplicity which poets sing of in better days. - I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so.


'Twas in the road betwixt _Nismes_ and _Lunel_, where there is the best _Muscatto_ wine in all _France_, and which by the bye belongs to the honest canons of MONTPELLIER--and foul befal the man who has drank it at their table, who grudges them a drop of it.

'Twas in the road betwixt Nismes and Lunel, where there is the best Muscatto wine in France.


----The sun was set--they had done their work; the nymphs had tied up their hair afresh--and the swains were preparing for a carousal----my mule made a dead point----'Tis the fife and tabourin, said I ----I'm frighten'd to death, quoth he ----They are running at the ring of pleasure, said I, giving him a prick ----By saint _Boogar_, and all the saints at the backside of the door of purgatory, said he--(making the same resolution with the abbesse of _Andoillets_) I'll not go a step further------'Tis very well, sir, said I ----I never will argue a point with one of your family, as long as I live; so leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot into this ditch, and t'other into that --I'll take a dance, said I--so stay you here.

The sun was set - work was finished; the nymphs had tied up their hair - the men were preparing for a carousal - my mule stopped dead.
''Tis the fife and tambourine,' said I.
'I'm frightened to death,' quoth he. 'By saint Boogar, I'll not go a step further.'
'Very well, sir,' said I, leaping off his back, and kicking off my boots. 'I'll take a dance, - so stay you here.'


A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the groupe to meet me, as I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chesnut approaching rather to a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a single tress.

A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the group to meet me as I advanced; her chestnut hair was tied up in a knot, but for a single tress.


We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as if to offer them --And a cavalier ye shall have; said I, taking hold of both of them.

'We want a cavalier,' said she, holding out her hands.
'And a cavalier ye shall have,' said I, taking them.


Hadst thou, _Nannette_, been array'd like a dutchesse!

Hadst thou only, Nannette, been dressed like a duchess!


----But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!

- But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!


We could not have done without you, said she, letting go one hand, with self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.