We had got up by this time almost to the bank where _Maria_ was sitting: she was in a thin white jacket, with her hair, all but two tresses, drawn up into a silk-net, with a few olive leaves twisted a little fantastically on one side----she was beautiful; and if ever I felt the full force of an honest heart-ache, it was the moment I saw her----

We had by this time almost reached the bank where Maria was sitting: she wore her hair drawn up into a silk-net, with a few olive leaves twisted a little fantastically on one side. - She was beautiful; and if ever I felt the full force of an honest heart-ache, it was the moment I saw her-


----God help her! poor damsel! above a hundred masses, said the postillion, have been said in the several parish churches and convents around, for her, ----but without effect; we have still hopes, as she is sensible for short intervals, that the Virgin at last will restore her to herself; but her parents, who know her best, are hopeless upon that score, and think her senses are lost for ever.

'God help her! poor damsel!' said the postilion. 'A hundred masses have been said in the churches and convents for her - but without effect; we have still hopes, as she is sensible for short intervals, that the Virgin will restore her to herself. But her parents, who know her best, have no hope, and think her senses are lost for ever.'


As the postillion spoke this, MARIA made a cadence so melancholy, so tender and querulous, that I sprung out of the chaise to help her, and found myself sitting betwixt her and her goat before I relapsed from my enthusiasm.

As the postillion spoke this, Maria made a cadence so melancholy, so tender, that I sprung out of the chaise to help her, and found myself sitting betwixt her and her goat.


MARIA look'd wistfully for some time at me, and then at her goat----and then at me----and then at her goat again, and so on, alternately----

Maria looked wistfully for some time at me, and then at her goat - and then at me - and then at her goat again.


----Well, _Maria_, said I softly ----What resemblance do you find?

'Well, Maria,' said I softly, 'what resemblance do you find?'


I do entreat the candid reader to believe me, that it was from the humblest conviction of what a _Beast_ man is, ----that I asked the question; and that I would not have let fallen an unseasonable pleasantry in the venerable presence of Misery, to be entitled to all the wit that ever _Rabelais_ scatter'd----and yet I own my heart smote me, and that I so smarted at the very idea of it, that I swore I would set up for Wisdom, and utter grave sentences the rest of my days----and never----never attempt again to commit mirth with man, woman, or child, the longest day I had to live.

I do entreat the reader to believe that it was from the humblest conviction of what a Beast man is, that I asked the question. I would never have made a witticism in the presence of Misery - and I so smarted at the very idea of it, that I swore I would utter grave sentences the rest of my days - and never attempt again to commit mirth with man, woman, or child, in my life.


As for writing nonsense to them ----I believe, there was a reserve--but that I leave to the world.

As for writing nonsense - that I leave to the world.


Adieu, _Maria!_--adieu, poor hapless damsel! ----some time, but not _now_, I may hear thy sorrows from thy own lips----but I was deceived; for that moment she took her pipe and told me such a tale of woe with it, that I rose up, and with broken and irregular steps walk'd softly to my chaise.

Adieu, Maria, poor hapless damsel! - some time, I thought, I may hear thy sorrows from thy own lips - but I was deceived; for she took her pipe and played such a tale of woe with it, that I rose up, and with broken steps walked softly to my chaise.


------What an excellent inn at _Moulins!_


[Footnote 9.1: He lost his hand at the battle of _Lepanto_.]


I told the Christian reader ----I say _Christian_----hoping he is one----and if he is not, I am sorry for it----and only beg he will consider the matter with himself, and not lay the blame entirely upon this book----

I told the Christian reader - hoping he is Christian; - if he is not, I am sorry for it, and beg he will consider the matter, and not lay the blame entirely upon this book-


I told him, Sir----for in good truth, when a man is telling a story in the strange way I do mine, he is obliged continually to be going backwards and forwards to keep all tight together in the reader's fancy----which, for my own part, if I did not take heed to do more than at first, there is so much unfixed and equivocal matter starting up, with so many breaks and gaps in it, --and so little service do the stars afford, which, nevertheless, I hang up in some of the darkest passages, knowing that the world is apt to lose its way, with all the lights the sun itself at noon-day can give it----and now you see, I am lost myself!------

I told him, Sir - for in truth, when a man is telling a story in the strange way I do mine, he is obliged continually to be going backwards and forwards to keep all tight together in the reader's fancy - which if I did not take heed to do more than at first, there is so much unfixed and equivocal matter starting up, with so many breaks and gaps, and so little service do the stars afford, which, nevertheless, I hang up in some of the darkest passages, knowing that the world is apt to lose its way, with all the light the noon-day sun can give it - and now you see, I am lost myself!


----But 'tis my father's fault; and whenever my brains come to be dissected, you will perceive, without spectacles, that he has left a large uneven thread, as you sometimes see in an unsaleable piece of cambrick, running along the whole length of the web, and so untowardly, you cannot so much as cut out a * *, (here I hang up a couple of lights again)----or a fillet, or a thumb-stall, but it is seen or felt.------

But 'tis my father's fault; and whenever my brains come to be dissected, you will perceive that he has left a large uneven thread running along the whole length of the web, so that you cannot cut out a * * (there I hang up a couple of lights again) without it being seen or felt.


_Quanto id diligentius in liberis procreandis cavendum_, sayeth _Cardan_. All which being considered, and that you see 'tis morally impracticable for me to wind this round to where I set out------

You see 'tis morally impracticable for me to wind this round to where I set out-


----And here is the _Maes_--and this is the _Sambre_; said the corporal, pointing with his right hand extended a little towards the map and his left upon Mrs. _Bridget's_ shoulder----but not the shoulder next him--and this, said he, is the town of _Namur_--and this the citadel--and there lay the _French_--and here lay his honour and myself----and in this cursed trench, Mrs. _Bridget_, quoth the corporal, taking her by the hand, did he receive the wound which crush'd him so miserably _here_. ----In pronouncing which, he slightly press'd the back of her hand towards the part he felt for----and let it fall.

'And here is the Maes - and this is the Sambre;' said the corporal, pointing with his right hand extended towards the map and his left round Mrs. Bridget's shoulder. 'And this,' said he, 'is the town of Namur - and here lay his honour and myself - and in this cursed trench, Mrs. Bridget,' quoth the corporal, taking her by the hand, 'did he receive the wound which crushed him so miserably here.'
- In pronouncing which, he slightly pressed the back of her hand towards the part - and let it fall.


We thought, Mr. _Trim_, it had been more in the middle, ----said Mrs. _Bridget_----

'We thought, Mr. Trim, it had been more in the middle,' said Mrs. Bridget.


That would have undone us for ever--said the corporal.

'That would have undone us for ever,' said the corporal.


----And left my poor mistress undone too, said _Bridget_.

'And my poor mistress too,' said Bridget.


The corporal made no reply to the repartee, but by giving Mrs. _Bridget_ a kiss.

The corporal made no reply, but by giving Bridget a kiss.


Come--come--said _Bridget_--holding the palm of her left hand parallel to the plane of the horizon, and sliding the fingers of the other over it, in a way which could not have been done, had there been the least wart or protuberance----'Tis every syllable of it false, cried the corporal, before she had half finished the sentence----

'Come - come,' said Bridget, sliding one hand over the other, in a way that could not be done were there the slightest wart or protuberance.
''Tis every syllable of it false,' cried the corporal, before she had half finished.


--I know it to be fact, said _Bridget_, from credible witnesses.

'I know it to be fact,' said Bridget, 'from witnesses.'


------Upon my honour, said the corporal, laying his hand upon his heart and blushing, as he spoke, with honest resentment--'tis a story, Mrs. _Bridget_, as false as hell ----Not, said _Bridget_, interrupting him, that either I or my mistress care a halfpenny about it, whether 'tis so or no------only that when one is married, one would chuse to have such a thing by one at least----

'Upon my honour,' said the corporal, blushing with honest resentment, ''tis a story, Mrs. Bridget, as false as hell-'
'Not,' said Bridget, interrupting him, 'that either I or my mistress care a halfpenny about it - only that when one is married, one would choose to have such a thing by one at least-'


It was somewhat unfortunate for Mrs. _Bridget_, that she had begun the attack with her manual exercise; for the corporal instantly * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.

It was somewhat unfortunate for Mrs. Bridget, that she had begun the attack with her manual exercise; for the corporal instantly * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.


----Bonjour! ----good morrow! ----so you have got your cloak on betimes! ----but 'tis a cold morning, and you judge the matter rightly----'tis better to be well mounted, than go o' foot----and obstructions in the glands are dangerous ----And how goes it with thy concubine--thy wife, --and thy little ones o' both sides? and when did you hear from the old gentleman and lady--your sister, aunt, uncle, and cousins ----I hope they have got better of their colds, coughs, claps, toothaches, fevers, stranguries, sciaticas, swellings, and sore eyes.

- Bonjour! - good morrow! so you have got your cloak on! but 'tis a cold morning - and how goes it with thy concubine, thy wife, and thy little ones o' both sides? and when did you hear from your sister, aunt, uncle, and cousins? - I hope they have got better of their colds, coughs, claps, toothaches, fevers, sciaticas, swellings, and sore eyes.


----What a devil of an apothecary! to take so much blood--give such a vile purge--puke--poultice--plaister--night-draught--clyster--blister? ----And why so many grains of calomel? santa Maria! and such a dose of opium! periclitating, pardi! the whole family of ye, from head to tail ----By my great-aunt _Dinah's_ old black velvet mask! I think there was no occasion for it.

- What a devil of an apothecary! to take so much blood - give such a vile purge - poultice - plaster - clyster - blister! And why so much calomel? and such a dose of opium! - By my great-aunt Dinah's old black velvet mask! I think there was no need for it.


Now this being a little bald about the chin, by frequently putting off and on, _before_ she was got with child by the coachman--not one of our family would wear it after. To cover the MASK afresh, was more than the mask was worth----and to wear a mask which was bald, or which could be half seen through, was as bad as having no mask at all----

Now this Mask being a little bald about the chin, by frequent putting off and on, before she was got with child by the coachman - not one of our family would wear it after. To mend the Mask, was more than the mask was worth - and to wear a bald mask was as bad as having no mask at all.


This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that in all our numerous family, for these four generations, we count no more than one archbishop, a _Welch_ judge, some three or four aldermen, and a single mountebank----

This is the reason, may it please your reverences, that in all our numerous family, for four generations, we count no more than one archbishop, a Welsh judge, three or four aldermen, and a single mountebank-


In the sixteenth century, we boast of no less than a dozen alchymists.

In the sixteenth century, we boast of no less than a dozen alchemists.


------My young master in _London_ is dead! said _Obadiah_.--

'My young master in London is dead!' said Obadiah.


------A green sattin night-gown of my mother's which had been twice scoured, was the first idea which _Obadiah's_ exclamation brought into _Susannah's_ head. --Well might _Locke_ write a chapter upon the imperfection of words. --Then, quoth _Susannah_, we must all go into mourning. --But note a second time: the word _mourning_, notwithstanding _Susannah_ made use of it herself--failed also of doing its office; it excited not one single idea, tinged either with grey or black, --all was green. ----The green sattin night-gown hung there still.

A green satin night-gown of my mother's, which had been twice cleaned, was the first idea which Obadiah's exclamation brought into Susannah's head. - Well might Locke write a chapter upon the imperfection of words.
'Then,' quoth Susannah, 'we must all go into mourning.'
But note: the word mourning excited in Susannah's mind not one single idea tinged with grey or black. - All was the green of a green satin night-gown.


--O! 'twill be the death of my poor mistress, cried _Susannah_. --My mother's whole wardrobe followed. --What a procession! her red damask, --her orange tawney, --her white and yellow lutestrings, --her brown taffata, --her bone-laced caps, her bed-gowns, and comfortable under-petticoats. --Not a rag was left behind. --"_No, --she will never look up again_," said _Susannah_.

'O! 'twill be the death of my poor mistress,' cried Susannah. - My mother's whole wardrobe followed. What a procession! her red damask, her yellow lutestrings, her brown taffeta, her laced caps and bed-gowns and under-petticoats. Not a rag was left behind. 'No, she will never look up again,' said Susannah.


We had a fat, foolish scullion--my father, I think, kept her for her simplicity; --she had been all autumn struggling with a dropsy. --He is dead, said _Obadiah_, --he is certainly dead! --So am not I, said the foolish scullion.

We had a fat, foolish scullery-maid who had been all autumn struggling with a dropsy.
'He is dead!' said Obadiah.
'So am not I,' said the foolish scullery-maid.


----Here is sad news, _Trim_, cried _Susannah_, wiping her eyes as _Trim_ stepp'd into the kitchen, --master _Bobby_ is dead and _buried_--the funeral was an interpolation of _Susannah's_--we shall have all to go into mourning, said _Susannah_.

'Here is sad news, Trim,' cried Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim entered the kitchen. 'Master Bobby is dead and buried' - the funeral was an invention of Susannah's - 'and we shall all have to go into mourning.'


I hope not, said _Trim_. --You hope not! cried _Susannah_ earnestly. --The mourning ran not in _Trim's_ head, whatever it did in _Susannah's_. --I hope--said _Trim_, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not true. --I heard the letter read with my own ears, answered _Obadiah_; and we shall have a terrible piece of work of it in stubbing the Ox-moor. --Oh! he's dead, said _Susannah_. --As sure, said the scullion, as I'm alive.

'I hope that the news is not true,' said Trim.
'I heard the letter read with my own ears,' answered Obadiah.
'Oh! he's dead,' said Susannah.
'As sure,' said the scullery-maid, 'as I'm alive.'


I lament for him from my heart and my soul, said _Trim_, fetching a sigh. --Poor creature! --poor boy! --poor gentleman.

'I lament for him from my heart and soul,' said Trim, with a sigh. 'Poor boy!'


--He was alive last _Whitsontide!_ said the coachman. --_Whitsontide!_ alas! cried _Trim_, extending his right arm, and falling instantly into the same attitude in which he read the sermon, --what is _Whitsontide_, _Jonathan_ (for that was the coachman's name), or _Shrovetide_, or any tide or time past, to this? Are we not here now, continued the corporal (striking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea of health and stability)--and are we not--(dropping his hat upon the ground) gone! in a moment! --'Twas infinitely striking! _Susannah_ burst into a flood of tears. --We are not stocks and stones. --_Jonathan_, _Obadiah_, the cook-maid, all melted. --The foolish fat scullion herself, who was scouring a fish-kettle upon her knees, was rous'd with it. --The whole kitchen crowded about the corporal.

'He was alive last Whitsuntide!' said Jonathan the coachman.
'Whitsuntide! alas!' cried Trim, extending his right arm, and falling instantly into the same attitude in which he read the sermon. 'What is Whitsuntide, Jonathan, or any tide or time, to this? Are we not here now,' he continued (striking his stick upon the floor) - 'and are we not' (dropping his hat upon the ground) 'gone! in a moment!'
Susannah burst into a flood of tears.
'We are not stocks and stones,' said Trim.
Jonathan, Obadiah and the cook-maid all melted. Even the foolish scullery-maid, who was scouring a fish-kettle, was roused. The whole kitchen crowded about the corporal.


Now, as I perceive plainly, that the preservation of our constitution in church and state, --and possibly the preservation of the whole world--or what is the same thing, the distribution and balance of its property and power, may in time to come depend greatly upon the right understanding of this stroke of the corporal's eloquence --I do demand your attention--your worships and reverences, for any ten pages together, take them where you will in any other part of the work, shall sleep for it at your ease.

Now, as I see that the preservation of our church and state - and possibly the distribution of property and power in the whole world - may in future depend upon the right understanding of the corporal's eloquence - I demand your attention, your worships.


I said, "we were not stocks and stones"--'tis very well. I should have added, nor are we angels, I wish we were, --but men clothed with bodies, and governed by our imaginations; --and what a junketing piece of work of it there is, betwixt these and our seven senses, especially some of them, for my own part, I own it, I am ashamed to confess. Let it suffice to affirm, that of all the senses, the eye (for I absolutely deny the touch, though most of your _Barbati_, I know, are for it) has the quickest commerce with the soul, --gives a smarter stroke, and leaves something more inexpressible upon the fancy, than words can either convey--or sometimes, get rid of.

I said, 'we were not stocks and stones.' I should have added, nor are we angels, but men clothed with bodies, and governed by our imaginations; and what a junketing piece of work there is between these and our seven senses, especially some of my own, I am ashamed to confess. Let it suffice to say the eye has the quickest commerce with the soul, - gives a smarter stroke, and leaves more upon the fancy than words can convey.


--I've gone a little about--no matter, 'tis for health--let us only carry it back in our mind to the mortality of _Trim's_ hat. --"Are we not here now, --and gone in a moment?" --There was nothing in the sentence--'twas one of your self-evident truths we have the advantage of hearing every day; and if _Trim_ had not trusted more to his hat than his head--he had made nothing at all of it.

-I've gone a little astray - no matter, let us now go back to the mortality of Trim's hat. 'Are we not here now, and gone in a moment?'
There was nothing in the sentence that we do not hear every day; and without the hat, Trim would have made nothing of it.


------"Are we not here now;" continued the corporal, "and are we not"--(dropping his hat plump upon the ground--and pausing, before he pronounced the word)-- "gone! in a moment?" The descent of the hat was as if a heavy lump of clay had been kneeded into the crown of it. ----Nothing could have expressed the sentiment of mortality, of which it was the type and fore-runner, like it, --his hand seemed to vanish from under it, --it fell dead, --the corporal's eye fixed upon it, as upon a corpse, --and _Susannah_ burst into a flood of tears.

'Are we not here now;' said he, 'and are we not' (dropping his hat plump upon the ground) 'gone! in a moment?'
The hat descended as if it held a lump of clay. Nothing could have expressed the sentiment of mortality like it; - it fell dead. The corporal's eye fixed upon it, as upon a corpse, and Susannah burst into tears.


Now --Ten thousand, and ten thousand times ten thousand (for matter and motion are infinite) are the ways by which a hat may be dropped upon the ground, without any effect. ----Had he flung it, or thrown it, or cast it, or skimmed it, or squirted it, or let it slip or fall in any possible direction under heaven, --or in the best direction that could be given to it, --had he dropped it like a goose--like a puppy--like an ass--or in doing it, or even after he had done, had he looked like a fool--like a ninny--like a nincompoop--it had fail'd, and the effect upon the heart had been lost.

Now - a hat may be dropped in ten thousand ways, without any effect. Had he flung it, or thrown it, or skimmed it, or had he dropped it like a goose - like a nincompoop - it would have failed, and its effect have been lost.


Ye who govern this mighty world and its mighty concerns with the _engines_ of eloquence, --who heat it, and cool it, and melt it, and mollify it, ----and then harden it again to _your purpose_----

Ye who govern this mighty world with the engines of eloquence - who heat it, and cool it, and melt it, and mollify it-


Ye who wind and turn the passions with this great windlass, and, having done it, lead the owners of them, whither ye think meet--

Ye who wind and turn the passions with this great windlass-


Ye, lastly, who drive----and why not, Ye also who are driven, like turkeys to market with a stick and a red clout--meditate--meditate, I beseech you, upon _Trim's_ hat.

Ye who drive - and why not Ye also who are driven, like turkeys to market with a stick - meditate, I beseech you, upon Trim's hat.


The description of the siege of _Jericho_ itself, could not have engaged the attention of my uncle _Toby_ more powerfully than the last chapter; --his eyes were fixed upon my father throughout it; --he never mentioned radical heat and radical moisture, but my uncle _Toby_ took his pipe out of his mouth, and shook his head; and as soon as the chapter was finished, he beckoned to the corporal to come close to his chair, to ask him the following question, --_aside_. ---- * * * * * * * * * It was at the siege of _Limerick_, an' please your honour, replied the corporal, making a bow.

The description of the siege of Jericho itself could not have held the attention of my uncle Toby more powerfully than the last chapter. His eyes were fixed upon my father throughout it; whenever he mentioned radical heat and radical moisture, my uncle took his pipe out of his mouth, and shook his head; and as soon as the chapter was finished, he beckoned to the corporal, to ask him the following question, (aside) - * * * * * * * * *?
'It was at the siege of Limerick, your honour,' replied the corporal.


The poor fellow and I, quoth my uncle _Toby_, addressing himself to my father, were scarce able to crawl out of our tents, at the time the siege of _Limerick_ was raised, upon the very account you mention. ----Now what can have got into that precious noddle of thine, my dear brother _Toby?_ cried my father, mentally. ----By Heaven! continued he, communing still with himself, it would puzzle an _dipus_ to bring it in point.----

'The poor fellow and I,' quoth my uncle Toby to my father, 'were scarce able to crawl out of our tents, when the siege of Limerick was raised, for the very reason you mention.'
'Now what can have got into that precious noddle of thine, my dear brother?' cried my father, mentally.


I believe, an' please your honour, quoth the corporal, that if it had not been for the quantity of brandy we set fire to every night, and the claret and cinnamon with which I plyed your honour off; --And the geneva, _Trim_, added my uncle _Toby_, which did us more good than all ----I verily believe, continued the corporal, we had both, an' please your honour, left our lives in the trenches, and been buried in them too. ----The noblest grave, corporal! cried my uncle _Toby_, his eyes sparkling as he spoke, that a soldier could wish to lie down in. ----But a pitiful death for him! an' please your honour, replied the corporal.

'I believe,' quoth the corporal, 'that if it had not been for the quantity of brandy we set fire to every night, and the claret and cinnamon which I gave your honour-'
'-And the Geneva gin, Trim,' added my uncle Toby, 'which did us more good than all-'
'-I verily believe, your honour,' continued the corporal, 'we would both have died in the trenches, and been buried there.'
'The noblest grave a soldier could wish for, corporal!' cried my uncle Toby, his eyes sparkling.
'But a pitiful death!' replied the corporal.


All this was as much _Arabick_ to my father, as the rites of the _Colchi_ and _Troglodites_ had been before to my uncle _Toby_; my father could not determine whether he was to frown or to smile.----

All this was as much Arabic to my father; he did not know whether to frown or smile.


My uncle _Toby_, turning to _Yorick_, resumed the case at _Limerick_, more intelligibly than he had begun it, --and so settled the point for my father at once.

My uncle Toby, turning to Yorick, began the account of Limerick, and settled the point for my father at once.


All which being considered, and that Death moreover might be much nearer me than I imagined ----I wish I was at _Abbeville_, quoth I, were it only to see how they card and spin----so off we set.

All which being considered, and because Death might be much nearer to me than I imagined - 'I wish I was at Abbeville,' quoth I, 'if only to see how they card and spin' - so off we set.


[7.1]_de Montreuil Nampont - poste et demi_ _de Nampont_ Bernay - - - poste de Bernay Nouvion - - - poste de Nouvion ABBEVILLE - - poste

From Montreuil to Nampont - from Nampont to Bernay - from Bernay to Nouvion - from Nouvion to Abbeville-


----but the carders and spinners were all gone to bed.

- but the carders and spinners were all gone to bed.


[Footnote 7.1: Vid. Book of French post roads, page 36, edition of 1762.]


My father put on his spectacles--looked, --took them off, --put them into the case--all in less than a statutable minute; and without opening his lips, turned about and walked precipitately down stairs: my mother imagined he had stepped down for lint and basilicon; but seeing him return with a couple of folios under his arm, and _Obadiah_ following him with a large reading-desk, she took it for granted 'twas an herbal, and so drew him a chair to the bedside, that he might consult upon the case at his ease.

My father put on his spectacles - looked - took them off, and without opening his lips, turned about and walked quickly down stairs. My mother imagined he had stepped down for a bandage and basilicon ointment; but seeing him return with a couple of tomes, and Obadiah following him with a large reading-desk, she assumed the books to be herbals, and drew him a chair to the bedside, so that he might consult on the case at his ease.


----If it be but right done, --said my father, turning to the _Section--de sede vel subjecto circumcisionis_, ----for he had brought up _Spenser de Legibus Hebrorum Ritualibus_--and _Maimonides_, in order to confront and examine us altogether.--

'If it be but right done,' said my father, turning to the Section de sede vel subjecto circumcisionis, - for he had brought up Spenser de Legibus Hebraeorum Ritualibus, and Maimonides.


----If it be but right done, quoth he: --only tell us, cried my mother, interrupting him, what herbs? ----For that, replied my father, you must send for Dr. _Slop_.

'- Only tell us,' cried my mother, interrupting him, 'what herbs?'
'For that,' replied my father, 'you must send for Dr. Slop.'


My mother went down, and my father went on, reading the section as follows,

My mother went down, and my father went on reading the section as follows:


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ------Very well, --said my father, * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * --nay, if it has that convenience----and so without stopping a moment to settle it first in his mind, whether the _Jews_ had it from the _Egyptians_, or the _Egyptians_ from the _Jews_, --he rose up, and rubbing his forehead two or three times across with the palm of his hand, in the manner we rub out the footsteps of care, when evil has trod lighter upon us than we foreboded, --he shut the book, and walked down stairs. --Nay, said he, mentioning the name of a different great nation upon every step as he set his foot upon it--if the EGYPTIANS, --the SYRIANS, --the PHOENICIANS, --the ARABIANS, --the CAPPADOCIANS, ----if the COLCHI, and TROGLODYTES did it----if SOLON and PYTHAGORAS submitted, --what is TRISTRAM? ----Who am I, that I should fret or fume one moment about the matter?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
'Very well,' said my father; * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * '- nay, if it has that convenience-' - and without stopping to decide whether the Jews had it from the Egyptians, or the Egyptians from the Jews, he rose; and rubbing his forehead as if rubbing out the footsteps of care, he shut the book, and walked down stairs.
'Nay,' said he, mentioning the name of a different great nation upon every step as he set his foot upon it - 'if the Egyptians, the Syrians, the Phoenicians, the Arabians, and the Cappadocians did it - if Solon and Pythagoras submitted - what is Tristram? who am I, to fret or fume about the matter?'


A delusive, delicious consultation or two of this kind, betwixt my uncle _Toby_ and _Trim_, upon the demolition of _Dunkirk_, --for a moment rallied back the ideas of those pleasures, which were slipping from under him: ----still--still all went on heavily----the magic left the mind the weaker --STILLNESS, with SILENCE at her back, entered the solitary parlour, and drew their gauzy mantle over my uncle _Toby's_ head; ----and LISTLESSNESS, with her lax fibre and undirected eye, sat quietly down beside him in his arm-chair. ----No longer _Amberg_ and _Rhinberg_, and _Limbourg_, and _Huy_, and _Bonn_, in one year, --and the prospect of _Landen_, and _Trerebach_, and _Drusen_, and _Dendermond_, the next, --hurried on the blood: --No longer did saps, and mines, and blinds, and gabions, and palisadoes, keep out this fair enemy of man's repose: ----No more could my uncle _Toby_, after passing the _French_ lines, as he eat his egg at supper, from thence break into the heart of _France_, --cross over the _Oyes_, and with all _Picardie_ open behind him, march up to the gates of _Paris_, and fall asleep with nothing but ideas of glory: ----No more was he to dream he had fixed the royal standard upon the tower of the _Bastile_, and awake with it streaming in his head.

A delusive, delicious consultation or two of this kind, betwixt my uncle Toby and Trim, upon the demolition of Dunkirk, for a moment recalled the ideas of those pleasures which were slipping from under him.
Yet all went on heavily. Stillness and Silence entered the solitary parlour, and drew their gauzy mantle over my uncle Toby's head; and Listlessness sat quietly down beside him in his arm-chair.
No longer did Amberg and Rhinberg and Limbourg and the rest hurry on the blood. No longer did saps, and mines, and palisades, keep out this fair enemy of man's repose. No more could my uncle Toby, after passing the French lines, as he ate his egg at supper, then break into the heart of France, march up to the gates of Paris, and fall asleep with nothing but ideas of glory. No more could he dream that he had fixed the royal standard upon the tower of the Bastille, and awake with it streaming in his head.


----Softer visions, --gentler vibrations stole sweetly in upon his slumbers; --the trumpet of war fell out of his hands, --he took up the lute, sweet instrument! of all others the most delicate! the most difficult! ----how wilt thou touch it, my dear uncle _Toby?_

-Softer visions - gentler vibrations - stole sweetly in upon his slumbers. The trumpet of war fell from his hands; he took up the lute, sweet instrument! of all the most delicate! the most difficult!
- How wilt thou touch it, my dear uncle Toby?


----I would be picquetted to death, cried the corporal, as he concluded _Susannah's_ story, before I would suffer the woman to come to any harm, --'twas my fault, an' please your honour, --not hers.

'I would be impaled on stakes,' cried the corporal, 'before I would allow the woman to come to any harm; 'twas my fault, your honour, not hers.'


Corporal _Trim_, replied my uncle _Toby_, putting on his hat which lay upon the table, ----if anything can be said to be a fault, when the service absolutely requires it should be done, --'tis I certainly who deserve the blame, ----you obeyed your orders.

'Corporal Trim,' replied my uncle Toby, ''tis I certainly who deserve the blame, - you obeyed your orders.'


Had count _Solmes_, _Trim_, done the same at the battle of _Steenkirk_, said _Yorick_, drolling a little upon the corporal, who had been run over by a dragoon in the retreat, ----he had saved thee; ----Saved! cried _Trim_, interrupting _Yorick_, and finishing the sentence for him after his own fashion, ----he had saved five battalions, an' please your reverence, every soul of them: ----there was _Cutts's_--continued the corporal, clapping the forefinger of his right hand upon the thumb of his left, and counting round his hand, ----there was _Cutts's_, ----_Mackay's_, ----_Angus's_, ----_Graham's_, ----and _Leven's_, all cut to pieces; ----and so had the _English_ life-guards too, had it not been for some regiments upon the right, who marched up boldly to their relief, and received the enemy's fire in their faces, before any one of their own platoons discharged a musket, ----they'll go to heaven for it, --added _Trim_. --_Trim_ is right, said my uncle _Toby_, nodding to _Yorick_, ----he's perfectly right. What signified his marching the horse, continued the corporal, where the ground was so straight, that the _French_ had such a nation of hedges, and copses, and ditches, and fell'd trees laid this way and that to cover them; (as they always have). ----Count _Solmes_ should have sent us, ----we would have fired muzzle to muzzle with them for their lives. ----There was nothing to be done for the horse: ----he had his foot shot off however for his pains, continued the corporal, the very next campaign at _Landen_. --Poor _Trim_ got his wound there, quoth my uncle _Toby_. ----'Twas owing, an' please your honour, entirely to count _Solmes_, ----had he drubb'd them soundly at _Steenkirk_, they would not have fought us at _Landen_. ----Possibly not, ----_Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_; ----though if they have the advantage of a wood, or you give them a moment's time to intrench themselves, they are a nation which will pop and pop for ever at you. ----There is no way but to march coolly up to them, ----receive their fire, and fall in upon them, pell-mell ----Ding dong, added _Trim_. ----Horse and foot, said my uncle _Toby_. ----Helter skelter, said _Trim_. ----Right and left, cried my uncle _Toby_. ----Blood an' ounds, shouted the corporal; ----the battle raged, ----_Yorick_ drew his chair a little to one side for safety, and after a moment's pause, my uncle _Toby_ sinking his voice a note, --resumed the discourse as follows.

'Had Count Solmes done the same at the battle of Steenkirk,' said Yorick to the corporal, who had been run over by a dragoon in the retreat, 'he would have saved thee.'
'Saved!' cried Trim; 'he would have saved five battalions, your reverence; there was Cutts's,' he continued counting on his fingers, 'Mackay's, Angus's, Graham's, and Leven's, all cut to pieces; and so would the English life-guards have been too, had it not been for some regiments upon the right, who marched up boldly to relieve them, and received the enemy's fire in their faces - they'll go to heaven for it.'
'Trim is right,' said my uncle Toby, nodding.
'What signified his marching the cavalry,' continued the corporal, 'where the ground was so straight, and the French had so many hedges, and copses, and ditches to cover them. - Count Solmes should have sent us; we would have fired muzzle to muzzle with them. He had his foot shot off however for his pains, the very next campaign at Landen.'
'Poor Trim got his wound there,' quoth my uncle Toby.
''Twas owing, your honour, entirely to Count Solmes - had he drubbed them soundly at Steenkirk, they would not have fought us at Landen.'
'Possibly not, Trim,' said my uncle Toby; 'though if you give them a moment's time to entrench themselves, they are a nation which will pop and pop for ever at you. There is no way but to march coolly up to them, - receive their fire, and fall upon them, pell-mell.'
'Ding dong,' added Trim.
'Horse and foot,' said my uncle.
'Helter skelter,' said Trim.
'Right and left,' cried my uncle Toby.
'Blood an' ounds,' shouted the corporal. The battle raged; Yorick drew his chair to one side for safety, and after a moment, my uncle Toby, sinking his voice, resumed as follows.


The anguish of my knee, continued the corporal, was excessive in itself; and the uneasiness of the cart, with the roughness of the roads, which were terribly cut up--making bad still worse--every step was death to me: so that with the loss of blood, and the want of care-taking of me, and a fever I felt coming on besides----(Poor soul! said my uncle _Toby_)----all together, an' please your honour, was more than I could sustain.

'The anguish of my knee,' continued the corporal, 'was excessive; and the uneasiness of the cart on the rough roads made it still worse. Every step was death to me: so that with the loss of blood, and a fever besides, all together it was more than I could bear.


I was telling my sufferings to a young woman at a peasant's house, where our cart, which was the last of the line, had halted; they had help'd me in, and the young woman had taken a cordial out of her pocket and dropp'd it upon some sugar, and seeing it had cheer'd me, she had given it me a second and a third time ----So I was telling her, an' please your honour, the anguish I was in, and was saying it was so intolerable to me, that I had much rather lie down upon the bed, turning my face towards one which was in the corner of the room--and die, than go on----when, upon her attempting to lead me to it, I fainted away in her arms. She was a good soul! as your honour, said the corporal, wiping his eyes, will hear.

'Our cart halted at a peasants' house; they helped me in, and a young woman took a cordial from her pocket to give me. Seeing it cheered me, she gave it me a second and a third time.
'I told her of the anguish I was in, saying it was so intolerable to me, that I had much rather lie down and die, than go on - when, upon her attempting to lead me to the bed, I fainted away in her arms. She was a good soul! as your honour will hear,' said the corporal, wiping his eyes.


I thought _love_ had been a joyous thing, quoth my uncle _Toby_.

'I thought love was a joyous thing,' quoth my uncle Toby.


'Tis the most serious thing, an' please your honour (sometimes), that is in the world.

''Tis the most serious thing, your honour, (sometimes), in the world.


By the persuasion of the young woman, continued the corporal, the cart with the wounded men set off without me: she had assured them I should expire immediately if I was put into the cart. So when I came to myself ----I found myself in a still quiet cottage, with no one but the young woman, and the peasant and his wife. I was laid across the bed in the corner of the room, with my wounded leg upon a chair, and the young woman beside me, holding the corner of her handkerchief dipp'd in vinegar to my nose with one hand, and rubbing my temples with the other.

The cart with the wounded men set off without me. So when I came round, I found myself in a quiet cottage, with no one but the young woman, and the peasant and his wife. I was laid across the bed in the corner, with my wounded leg upon a chair, and the young woman beside me, holding her handkerchief dipped in vinegar to my nose, and rubbing my temples.


I took her at first for the daughter of the peasant (for it was no inn)--so had offer'd her a little purse with eighteen florins, which my poor brother _Tom_ (here _Trim_ wip'd his eyes) had sent me as a token, by a recruit, just before he set out for _Lisbon_.----

'I took her at first for the peasant's daughter, so had offered her a little purse with eighteen florins, which my poor brother Tom had sent me, just before he set out for Lisbon.


----I never told your honour that piteous story yet----here _Trim_ wiped his eyes a third time.

- I never told your honour that piteous story yet.' - Here Trim wiped his eyes again.


The young woman call'd the old man and his wife into the room, to show them the money, in order to gain me credit for a bed and what little necessaries I should want, till I should be in a condition to be got to the hospital ----Come then! said she, tying up the little purse --I'll be your banker--but as that office alone will not keep me employ'd, I'll be your nurse too.

'The young woman called the old man and his wife into the room to show them the money,' he went on, 'in order to gain me credit for a bed and what necessaries I should want, till I could be got to the hospital. "Come then!" said she; "I'll be your banker - and I'll be your nurse too."


I thought by her manner of speaking this, as well as by her dress, which I then began to consider more attentively----that the young woman could not be the daughter of the peasant.

'I thought by her manner of speaking, as well as by her dress, that the young woman could not be the peasant's daughter.


She was in black down to her toes, with her hair conceal'd under a cambric border, laid close to her forehead: she was one of those kind of nuns, an' please your honour, of which, your honour knows, there are a good many in _Flanders_, which they let go loose ----By thy description, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, I dare say she was a young _Beguine_, of which there are none to be found anywhere but in the _Spanish Netherlands_--except at _Amsterdam_----they differ from nuns in this, that they can quit their cloister if they choose to marry; they visit and take care of the sick by profession ----I had rather, for my own part, they did it out of good-nature.

She was in black down to her toes, with her hair concealed under a cambric border: she was one of those kind of nuns, of which, your honour knows, there are a good many in Flanders.'
'By thy description, Trim,' said my uncle Toby, 'I dare say she was a young Beguine, who are found in the Spanish Netherlands. They differ from nuns in this, that they can quit their cloister if they choose to marry. They take care of the sick by profession - though I had rather they did it out of good-nature.'


----She often told me, quoth _Trim_, she did it for the love of Christ --I did not like it. ----I believe, _Trim_, we are both wrong, said my uncle _Toby_--we'll ask Mr. _Yorick_ about it to-night at my brother _Shandy's_----so put me in mind; added my uncle _Toby_.

'She often told me,' quoth Trim, 'she did it for the love of Christ. - I did not like it.'
'We'll ask Mr. Yorick about it to-night, at my brother Shandy's - so remind me,' said my uncle Toby.


The young _Beguine_, continued the corporal, had scarce given herself time to tell me "she would be my nurse," when she hastily turned about to begin the office of one, and prepare something for me----and in a short time--though I thought it a long one--she came back with flannels, &c. &c., and having fomented my knee soundly for a couple of hours, &c., and made me a thin bason of gruel for my supper--she wish'd me rest, and promised to be with me early in the morning. ----She wished me, an' please your honour, what was not to be had. My fever ran very high that night--her figure made sad disturbance within me --I was every moment cutting the world in two--to give her half of it--and every moment was I crying, That I had nothing but a knapsack and eighteen florins to share with her ----The whole night long was the fair _Beguine_, like an angel, close by my bedside, holding back the curtain and offering me cordials--and I was only awakened from my dream by her coming there at the hour promised, and giving them in reality. In truth, she was scarce ever from me; and so accustomed was I to receive life from her hands, that my heart sickened, and I lost colour when she left the room: and yet, continued the corporal (making one of the strangest reflections upon it in the world)----

'The young Beguine,' continued the corporal, 'having told me she would be my nurse, went to prepare something for me - and in a short time she came back with flannels, and having fomented my knee for a couple of hours, and made me a thin basin of gruel for my supper, she wished me rest, and promised to be with me early in the morning.
'I had little rest. My fever ran very high that night - I kept seeing her - I was every moment cutting the world in two, to give her half - and crying that I had nothing but a knapsack and eighteen florins to share with her. The whole night long, I dreamed the fair Beguine, like an angel, was close by my bedside, offering me cordials - and I was only awakened from my dreams by her coming as promised, and giving them in reality. She was scarce ever away from me; and so dependent on her was I, that my heart sickened when she left the room: and yet,' continued the corporal, making a strange observation-


----"_It was not love_"----for during the three weeks she was almost constantly with me, fomenting my knee with her hand, night and day --I can honestly say, an' please your honour--that * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * once.

'- it was not love - for during the three weeks she was almost constantly with me, fomenting my knee with her hand, night and day - I can honestly say, your honour, that * * * * * * * * * * * * * ,not once.'


That was very odd, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_.

'That was very odd, Trim,' quoth my uncle Toby.


I have dropped the curtain over this scene for a minute, ----to remind you of one thing, ----and to inform you of another.

I have dropped the curtain over this scene for a minute, to remind you of one thing, and to inform you of another.


What I have to inform you, comes, I own, a little out of its due course; ----for it should have been told a hundred and fifty pages ago, but that I foresaw then 'twould come in pat hereafter, and be of more advantage here than elsewhere. --Writers had need look before them, to keep up the spirit and connection of what they have in hand.

What I have to inform you, comes, I own, a little out of its due course; - for it should have been told a hundred and fifty pages ago, but I foresaw that 'twould come in pat, and be of more advantage here than elsewhere. Writers need to look ahead, to keep up the spirit and connection of what they have in hand.


When these two things are done, --the curtain shall be drawn up again, and my uncle _Toby_, my father, and Dr. _Slop_, shall go on with their discourse, without any more interruption.

When these two things are done, the curtain shall be drawn up again, and my uncle Toby, my father, and Dr. Slop shall go on with their discourse without any more interruption.


First, then, the matter which I have to remind you of, is this; ----that from the specimens of singularity in my father's notions in the point of christian-names, and that other previous point thereto, --you was led, I think, into an opinion (and I am sure I said as much), that my father was a gentleman altogether as odd and whimsical in fifty other opinions. In truth, there was not a stage in the life of man, from the very first act of his begetting, ----down to the lean and slippered pantaloon in his second childishness, but he had some favourite notion to himself, springing out of it, as sceptical, and as far out of the highway of thinking, as these two which have been explained.

First, then, I have to remind you of this; - that from the example of my father's unusual notions about Christian names, you were led into assuming that he was just as odd and whimsical in fifty other opinions. In truth, there was not a stage in the life of man, from his begetting to the lean and slippered pantaloon, that he did not have some favourite notion of, far out of the highway of thinking.


--Mr. _Shandy_, my father, Sir, would see nothing in the light in which others placed it; --he placed things in his own light; --he would weigh nothing in common scales; --no, he was too refined a researcher to lie open to so gross an imposition. --To come at the exact weight of things in the scientific steel-yard, the fulcrum, he would say, should be almost invisible, to avoid all friction from popular tenets; --without this the minuti of philosophy, which would always turn the balance, will have no weight at all. Knowledge, like matter, he would affirm, was divisible _in infinitum_; ----that the grains and scruples were as much a part of it, as the gravitation of the whole world. --In a word, he would say, error was error, --no matter where it fell, ----whether in a fraction, --or a pound, --'twas alike fatal to truth, and she was kept down at the bottom of her well, as inevitably by a mistake in the dust of a butterfly's wings, ----as in the disk of the sun, the moon, and all the stars of heaven put together.

My father, Sir, saw nothing in the light in which others placed it; he placed things in his own light.
Knowledge, like matter, he would affirm, was divisible into grains and scruples ad infinitum. Error was error; no matter where it fell, 'twas fatal to truth, who was kept down at the bottom of her well as inevitably by a mistake in the dust of a butterfly's wings, as in the disk of the sun, the moon, and all the stars put together.


He would often lament that it was for want of considering this properly, and of applying it skilfully to civil matters, as well as to speculative truths, that so many things in this world were out of joint; ----that the political arch was giving way; ----and that the very foundations of our excellent constitution, in church and state, were so sapped as estimators had reported.

He would often lament that it was due to neglect of this truth, that so many things in this world were out of joint; - and that the foundations of our church and state were weakened.


You cry out, he would say, we are a ruined, undone people. Why? he would ask, making use of the sorites or syllogism of _Zeno_ and _Chrysippus_, without knowing it belonged to them. --Why? why are we a ruined people? --Because we are corrupted. --Whence is it, dear Sir, that we are corrupted? ----Because we are needy; ----our poverty, and not our wills, consent. ----And wherefore, he would add, are we needy? --From the neglect, he would answer, of our pence and our halfpence: --Our bank notes, Sir, our guineas, --nay, our shillings take care of themselves.

He would say, 'We are a ruined people. Why?' he would ask, using the syllogism of Zeno and Chrysippus, without knowing it belonged to them. - 'Why are we ruined? Because we are corrupted. Why are we corrupted? Because we are needy. And why are we needy? From the neglect of our pence: our bank notes, Sir, take care of themselves.


'Tis the same, he would say, throughout the whole circle of the sciences; --the great, the established points of them, are not to be broke in upon. --The laws of nature will defend themselves; --but error----(he would add, looking earnestly at my mother)----error, Sir, creeps in thro' the minute holes and small crevices which human nature leaves unguarded.

''Tis the same,' he would say, 'throughout all the sciences; the great points are not to be broke in upon - the laws of nature will defend themselves - but error' (he would add, looking earnestly at my mother) - 'error creeps in through the minute holes and crevices which human nature leaves unguarded.'


This turn of thinking in my father, is what I had to remind you of: --The point you are to be informed of, and which I have reserved for this place, is as follows.

This style of thinking in my father, is what I had to remind you of.
- The point you are to be informed of, and which I have reserved for this place, is as follows.


Amongst the many and excellent reasons, with which my father had urged my mother to accept of Dr. _Slop's_ assistance preferably to that of the old woman, ----there was one of a very singular nature; which, when he had done arguing the manner with her as a Christian, and came to argue it over again with her as a philosopher, he had put his whole strength to, depending indeed upon it as his sheet-anchor. ----It failed him; tho' from no defect in the argument itself; but that, do what he could, he was not able for his soul to make her comprehend the drift of it. ----Cursed luck! ----said he to himself, one afternoon, as he walked out of the room, after he had been stating it for an hour and a half to her, to no manner of purpose; --cursed luck! said he, biting his lip as he shut the door, ----for a man to be master of one of the finest chains of reasoning in nature, --and have a wife at the same time with such a headpiece, that he cannot hang up a single inference within side of it, to save his soul from destruction.

Amongst the many and excellent reasons, with which my father had urged my mother to accept Dr. Slop's assistance rather than the old woman's, there was one particular reason which he put his whole strength to. - It failed because he could not make her comprehend its drift.
'Cursed luck!' said he to himself, one afternoon, as he walked out of the room after arguing it for an hour and a half with her, to no purpose; 'Cursed luck!' said he, biting his lip, 'for a man to be master of one of the finest chains of reasoning in nature, and have a wife with such a head that he cannot make an impression on it, to save his soul.'


This argument, though it was entirely lost upon my mother, ----had more weight with him, than all his other arguments joined together: --I will therefore endeavour to do it justice, --and set it forth with all the perspicuity I am master of.

This argument, though it was entirely lost upon my mother, had more weight with him than all his other arguments together: I will therefore try to do it justice.


My father set out upon the strength of these two following axioms:


_First_, That an ounce of a man's own wit, was worth a ton of other people's; and,

First, that an ounce of a man's own wit was worth a ton of other people's.


_Secondly_ (Which by the bye, was the ground-work of the first axiom, ----tho' it comes last), That every man's wit must come from every man's own soul, ----and no other body's.

Secondly (which by the bye, was the basis of the first axiom, though it comes after), that every man's wit must come from his own soul, and no one else's.


Now, as it was plain to my father, that all souls were by nature equal, ----and that the great difference between the most acute and the most obtuse understanding----was from no original sharpness or bluntness of one thinking substance above or below another, ----but arose merely from the lucky or unlucky organisation of the body, in that part where the soul principally took up her residence, ----he had made it the subject of his enquiry to find out the identical place.

Now, it was plain to my father that all souls were equal, and that the difference between the most acute and the most obtuse understanding came not from any original sharpness or bluntness of one mind above or below another, but arose merely from the organisation of the body, in that part where the soul took up her residence. He had therefore researched exactly where that was.


Now, from the best accounts he had been able to get of this matter, he was satisfied it could not be where _Des Cartes_ had fixed it, upon the top of the _pineal_ gland of the brain; which, as he philosophized, formed a cushion for her about the size of a marrow pea; tho', to speak the truth, as so many nerves did terminate all in that one place, --'twas no bad conjecture; ----and my father had certainly fallen with that great philosopher plumb into the centre of the mistake, had it not been for my uncle _Toby_, who rescued him out of it, by a story he told him of a _Walloon_ officer at the battle of _Landen_, who had one part of his brain shot away by a musket-ball, --and another part of it taken out after by a _French_ surgeon; and after all, recovered, and did his duty very well without it.

From the best accounts he could find, he believed it could not be where Des Cartes had fixed it, upon the top of the pineal gland of the brain; though, to speak the truth, as so many nerves terminated in that place, 'twas no bad guess; and my father would have certainly agreed with that great philosopher, had it not been for my uncle Toby telling him a story of an officer at the battle of Landen, who had one part of his brain shot away by a musket-ball, and another part of it taken out by a French surgeon; and afterwards recovered, and did his duty very well without it.


If death, said my father, reasoning with himself, is nothing but the separation of the soul from the body; and if it is true that people can walk about and do their business without brains, --then certes the soul does not inhabit there. Q. E. D.

If death, said my father, is nothing but the separation of the soul from the body; and if it is true that people can walk about and do their business without brains, then certainly the soul does not inhabit there. Q. E. D.


As for that certain, very thin, subtle and very fragrant juice which _Coglionissimo Borri_, the great _Milanese_ physician affirms, in a letter to _Bartholine_, to have discovered in the cellul of the occipital parts of the cerebellum, and which he likewise affirms to be the principal seat of the reasonable soul (for, you must know, in these latter and more enlightened ages, there are two souls in every man living, --the one, according to the great _Metheglingius_, being called the _Animus_, the other, the _Anima_;)--as for the opinion, I say, of _Borri_, --my father could never subscribe to it by any means; the very idea of so noble, so refined, so immaterial, and so exalted a being as the _Anima_, or even the _Animus_, taking up her residence, and sitting dabbling, like a tadpole all day long, both summer and winter, in a puddle, ----or in a liquid of any kind, how thick or thin soever, he would say, shocked his imagination; he would scarce give the doctrine a hearing.

As for that thin, subtle and fragrant juice which Borri, the great Milanese physician, claims to have discovered in the cerebellum, and which he affirms to be the seat of the soul, my father could not subscribe to this theory by any means. The very idea of so noble and exalted a being as the soul residing there and sitting dabbling like a tadpole all day long, in a puddle, shocked him.


What, therefore, seemed the least liable to objections of any, was that the chief sensorium, or head-quarters of the soul, and to which place all intelligences were referred, and from whence all her mandates were issued, --was in, or near, the cerebellum, --or rather somewhere about the _medulla oblongata_, wherein it was generally agreed by _Dutch_ anatomists, that all the minute nerves from all the organs of the seven senses concentered, like streets and winding alleys, into a square.

What, therefore, seemed the most likely head-quarters of the soul, was somewhere about the medulla oblongata, where, it was generally agreed by Dutch anatomists, all the minute nerves from the organs converged, like streets and winding alleys into a square.


So far there was nothing singular in my father's opinion, --he had the best of philosophers, of all ages and climates, to go along with him. ----But here he took a road of his own, setting up another _Shandean_ hypothesis upon these corner-stones they had laid for him; ----and which said hypothesis equally stood its ground; whether the subtilty and fineness of the soul depended upon the temperature and clearness of the said liquor, or of the finer network and texture in the cerebellum itself; which opinion he favoured.

So far there was nothing singular in my father's opinion. - But here he took a road of his own, setting up another Shandean hypothesis upon these corner-stones.


He maintained, that next to the due care to be taken in the act of propagation of each individual, which required all the thought in the world, as it laid the foundation of this incomprehensible contexture, in which wit, memory, fancy, eloquence, and what is usually meant by the name of good natural parts, do consist; --that next to this and his christian-name, which were the two original and most efficacious causes of all; ----that the third cause, or rather what logicians call the _Causa sine qu non_, and without which all that was done was of no manner of significance, ----was the preservation of this delicate and fine-spun web, from the havock which was generally made in it by the violent compression and crush which the head was made to undergo, by the nonsensical method of bringing us into the world by that foremost.

He maintained that next to the due care to be taken in the act of begetting each individual, and in naming him, the third aim of a parent was the preservation of this delicate and fine-spun web from the havoc which was generally made by the violent compression which the head was forced to undergo, by the nonsensical method of bringing us into the world head foremost.


My father, who dipped into all kinds of books, upon looking into _Lithopdus Senonesis de Partu difficili_,[2.1] published by _Adrianus Smelvgot_, had found out, that the lax and pliable state of a child's head in parturition, the bones of the cranium having no sutures at that time, was such, ----that by force of the woman's efforts, which, in strong labour-pains, was equal, upon an average, to the weight of 470 pounds averdupois acting perpendicularly upon it; --it so happened, that in 49 instances out of 50, the said head was compressed and moulded into the shape of an oblong conical piece of dough, such as a pastry-cook generally rolls up in order to make a pye of. --Good God! cried my father, what havock and destruction must this make in the infinitely fine and tender texture of the cerebellum! --Or if there is such a juice as _Borri_ pretends, --is it not enough to make the clearest liquid in the world both feculent and mothery?

My father, who dipped into all kinds of books, upon looking into Smelvgot's Lithopdus Senonesis de Partu difficili had found out that the pliable state of a child's head at birth was such, that by force of the woman's efforts, which, in strong labour-pains, was equal, upon average, to the weight of 470 pounds acting perpendicularly upon it, - so it happened that in 49 cases out of 50, the child's head was compressed and moulded into the shape of a conical piece of dough, such as a pastry-cook rolls up to make a pie of.
'Good God!' cried my father, 'what havoc and destruction must this cause in the fine and tender texture of the cerebellum!'


But how great was his apprehension, when he farther understood, that this force acting upon the very vertex of the head, not only injured the brain itself, or cerebrum, --but that it necessarily squeezed and propelled the cerebrum towards the cerebellum, which was the immediate seat of the understanding! ----Angels and ministers of grace defend us! cried my father, ----can any soul withstand this shock? --No wonder the intellectual web is so rent and tattered as we see it; and that so many of our best heads are no better than a puzzled skein of silk, ----all perplexity, ----all confusion within-side.

But how great was his apprehension, when he farther understood that this force squeezed and propelled the cerebrum towards the cerebellum, which was the seat of understanding!
'Angels defend us!' cried my father, - 'can any soul withstand this shock? No wonder the intellectual web is so tattered; and that so many of our best heads are all perplexity and confusion within.'


But when my father read on, and was let into the secret, that when a child was turned topsy-turvy, which was easy for an operator to do, and was extracted by the feet; --that instead of the cerebrum being propelled towards the cerebellum, the cerebellum, on the contrary, was propelled simply towards the cerebrum, where it could do no manner of hurt: ----By heavens! cried he, the world is in conspiracy to drive out what little wit God has given us, ----and the professors of the obstetric art are lifted into the same conspiracy. --What is it to me which end of my son comes foremost into the world, provided all goes right after, and his cerebellum escapes uncrushed?

But my father read on, and learned that when a child was turned topsy-turvy, which was easy for an operator to do, and was extracted by the feet; - that then the cerebellum was propelled simply towards the cerebrum, where it could do no harm.
'By heavens!' cried he, 'the world is in conspiracy to drive out what little wit God has given us. What is it to me which end of my son comes foremost into the world, provided his cerebellum escapes uncrushed?'


It is the nature of an hypothesis, when once a man has conceived it, that it assimilates every thing to itself, as proper nourishment; and, from the first moment of your begetting it, it generally grows the stronger by every thing you see, hear, read, or understand. This is of great use.

It is the nature of an hypothesis, when once a man has created it, that it generally grows stronger with everything he hears or reads.


When my father was gone with this about a month, there was scarce a phnomenon of stupidity or of genius, which he could not readily solve by it; --it accounted for the eldest son being the greatest blockhead in the family. ----Poor devil, he would say, --he made way for the capacity of his younger brothers. ----It unriddled the observations of drivellers and monstrous heads, ----shewing _ priori_, it could not be otherwise, ----unless **** I don't know what. It wonderfully explained and accounted for the acumen of the _Asiatic_ genius, and that sprightlier turn, and a more penetrating intuition of minds, in warmer climates; not from the loose and common-place solution of a clearer sky, and a more perpetual sunshine, &c. --which for aught he knew, might as well rarefy and dilute the faculties of the soul into nothing, by one extreme, --as they are condensed in colder climates by the other; ----but he traced the affair up to its spring-head; --shewed that, in warmer climates, nature had laid a lighter tax upon the fairest parts of the creation; --their pleasures more; --the necessity of their pains less, insomuch that the pressure and resistance upon the vertex was so slight, that the whole organisation of the cerebellum was preserved; ----nay, he did not believe, in natural births, that so much as a single thread of the net-work was broke or displaced, ----so that the soul might just act as she liked.

When my father had held this hypothesis about a month, there was scarce a phenomenon of stupidity or genius which he could not readily solve by it; it accounted for his eldest son being the greatest blockhead in the family.
'Poor devil,' he would say, 'he made way for the capacity of his younger brothers.' It wonderfully explained the acumen of the Asiatic genius, and that sprightlier turn of minds in warmer climates; not from the common-place solution of a clearer sky, and more sunshine, &c; but he affirmed that in warmer climates, nature had laid a lighter tax upon the fairer sex, so that the pressure upon the head in childbirth was slight, the cerebellum was preserved, and the soul might act as it liked.


When my father had got so far, ------what a blaze of light did the accounts of the _Csarian_ section, and of the towering geniuses who had come safe into the world by it, cast upon this hypothesis? Here you see, he would say, there was no injury done to the sensorium; --no pressure of the head against the pelvis; ----no propulsion of the cerebrum towards the cerebellum, either by the _os pubis_ on this side, or the _os coxygis_ on that; ------and pray, what were the happy consequences? Why, Sir, your _Julius Csar_, who gave the operation a name; --and your _Hermes Trismegistus_, who was born so before ever the operation had a name; ----your _Scipio Africanus_; your _Manlius Torquatus_; our _Edward_ the Sixth, --who, had he lived, would have done the same honour to the hypothesis: ----These, and many more who figured high in the annals of fame, --all came _side-way_, Sir, into the world.

When my father had got so far, what a blaze of light did the accounts of the Caesarean section, and of the towering geniuses who had come safe into the world by it, cast upon this hypothesis?
'Here you see,' he would say, 'there was no injury done; no pressure of the head against the pelvis; no propulsion of the cerebrum - and pray, what were the happy consequences? Why, Sir, Julius Caesar, who gave the operation a name; and Hermes Trismegistus, Scipio Africanus, and our Edward the Sixth, who, had he lived, would have done honour to the hypothesis. These, and many more famous men, all came sideways, Sir, into the world.'


The incision of the _abdomen_ and _uterus_ ran for six weeks together in my father's head; ----he had read, and was satisfied, that wounds in the _epigastrium_, and those in the _matrix_, were not mortal; --so that the belly of the mother might be opened extremely well to give a passage to the child. --He mentioned the thing one afternoon to my mother, ------merely as a matter of fact; but seeing her turn as pale as ashes at the very mention of it, as much as the operation flattered his hopes, --he thought it as well to say no more of it, ----contenting himself with admiring, --what he thought was to no purpose to propose.

The incision of the uterus ran for six weeks in my father's head; he had read that wounds in the abdomen were not mortal, so that the belly of the mother might be opened extremely well to give a passage to the child.
He mentioned this one afternoon to my mother, - merely as a matter of fact; but seeing her turn as pale as ashes at the very mention of it, he thought it as well to say no more, contenting himself with admiring it in silence.


This was my father Mr. _Shandy's_ hypothesis; concerning which I have only to add, that my brother _Bobby_ did as great honour to it (whatever he did to the family) as any one of the great heroes we spoke of: For happening not only to be christened, as I told you, but to be born too, when my father was at _Epsom_, ----being moreover my mother's _first_ child, --coming into the world with his head _foremost_, --and turning out afterwards a lad of wonderful slow parts, ----my father spelt all these together into his opinion: and as he had failed at one end, --he was determined to try the other.

This was my father Mr. Shandy's hypothesis; concerning which I have only to add, that my brother Bobby did as much honour to it as any one of the great heroes we spoke of. For happening to be born when my father was at Epsom, - being moreover my mother's first child, coming into the world head foremost, and turning out afterwards a lad of wonderful slowness, - my father was confirmed in his opinion: and as he had failed at one end, he was determined to try the other.


This was not to be expected from one of the sisterhood, who are not easily to be put out of their way, ----and was therefore one of my father's great reasons in favour of a man of science, whom he could better deal with.

This was not to be expected from the midwife, - and was therefore one of my father's reasons in favour of a man of science, whom he could better deal with.


Of all men in the world, Dr. _Slop_ was the fittest for my father's purpose; ----for though this new-invented forceps was the armour he had proved, and what he maintained to be the safest instrument of deliverance, yet, it seems, he had scattered a word or two in his book, in favour of the very thing which ran in my father's fancy; ----tho' not with a view to the soul's good in extracting by the feet, as was my father's system, --but for reasons merely obstetrical.

Of all men in the world, Dr. Slop was the fittest for my father's purpose; for though this new-invented forceps was, he maintained, the safest instrument of deliverance, yet, it seems, he had scattered a word or two in his book, in favour of extracting the baby by its feet; though not for the soul's good, but for reasons merely obstetrical.


This will account for the coalition betwixt my father and Dr. _Slop_, in the ensuing discourse, which went a little hard against my uncle _Toby_. ----In what manner a plain man, with nothing but common sense, could bear up against two such allies in science, --is hard to conceive. --You may conjecture upon it, if you please, ----and whilst your imagination is in motion, you may encourage it to go on, and discover by what causes and effects in nature it could come to pass, that my uncle _Toby_ got his modesty by the wound he received upon his groin. --You may raise a system to account for the loss of my nose by marriage-articles, --and shew the world how it could happen, that I should have the misfortune to be called TRISTAM, in opposition to my father's hypothesis, and the wish of the whole family, Godfathers and Godmothers not excepted. --These, with fifty other points left yet unravelled, you may endeavour to solve if you have time; ----but I tell you beforehand it will be in vain, for not the sage _Alquife_, the magician in Don _Belianis_ of _Greece_, nor the no less famous _Urganda_, the sorceress his wife, (were they alive), could pretend to come within a league of the truth.

This will account for the coalition betwixt my father and Dr. Slop in the ensuing discourse, which went a little hard against my uncle Toby. How a plain man could bear up against two such allies in science, is hard to conceive.
You may conjecture upon it, if you please, - and whilst your imagination is in motion, you may encourage it to discover how my uncle Toby got his modesty by the wound upon his groin. You may try to account for the loss of my nose by marriage-articles, and show the world how I could have the misfortune to be called Tristram, in opposition to my father's hypothesis, and the wishes of the whole family.
These, with fifty other points left yet unravelled, you may endeavour to solve; but I tell you now it will be in vain, for you will not come within a league of the truth.


The reader will be content to wait for a full explanation of these matters till the next year, ----when a series of things will be laid open which he little expects.

The reader must wait for a full explanation of these matters till next year, when a series of events will be laid open which he little expects.


[Footnote 2.1: The author is here twice mistaken; for _Lithopdus_ should be wrote thus, _Lithopdii Senonensis Icon_. The second mistake is, that this _Lithopdus_ is not an author, but a drawing of a petrified child. The account of this, published by _Athosius_ 1580, may be seen at the end of _Cordus's_ works in _Spachius_. Mr. _Tristram Shandy_ has been led into this error, either from seeing _Lithopdus's_ name of late in a catalogue of learned writers in Dr. ----, or by mistaking _Lithopdus_ for _Trinecavellius_, ----from the too great similitude of the names.]


It is two hours, and ten minutes--and no more--cried my father, looking at his watch, since Dr. _Slop_ and _Obadiah_ arrived--and I know not how it happens, brother _Toby_--but to my imagination it seems almost an age.

'It is two hours, and ten minutes,' cried my father, looking at his watch, 'since Dr. Slop and Obadiah arrived - and I know not how it happens, brother Toby, but to my imagination it seems an age.'


----Here--pray, Sir, take hold of my cap--nay, take the bell along with it, and my pantoufles too.

- Here - pray, Sir, take my cap, and my bell, and my slippers.


Now, Sir, they are all at your service; and I freely make you a present of 'em, on condition you give me all your attention to this chapter.

I freely make you a present of 'em, on condition you give me all your attention in this chapter.


Though my father said, "_he knew not how it happen'd_," --yet he knew very well how it happen'd; ----and at the instant he spoke it, was pre-determined in his mind to give my uncle _Toby_ a clear account of the matter by a metaphysical dissertation upon the subject of _duration and its simple modes_, in order to shew my uncle _Toby_ by what mechanism and mensurations in the brain it came to pass, that the rapid succession of their ideas, and the eternal scampering of the discourse from one thing to another, since Dr. _Slop_ had come into the room, had lengthened out so short a period to so inconceivable an extent. ----"I know not how it happens--cried my father, --but it seems an age."

Though my father said, 'he knew not how it happened,' yet he knew very well how it happened; - and at the instant he spoke it, decided to give my uncle Toby a clear account of the matter by a metaphysical dissertation upon the duration of time and its modes, in order to show my uncle by what mechanism in the brain it happened that the rapid succession of their ideas, and the eternal scampering of the discussion from one thing to another, had lengthened out so short a period to so great an extent.
- 'I know not how it happens,' cried my father, 'but it seems an age.'


----'Tis owing entirely, quoth my uncle _Toby_, to the succession of our ideas.

''Tis owing entirely,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'to the succession of our ideas.'


My father, who had an itch, in common with all philosophers, of reasoning upon everything which happened, and accounting for it too--proposed infinite pleasure to himself in this, of the succession of ideas, and had not the least apprehension of having it snatch'd out of his hands by my uncle _Toby_, who (honest man!) generally took everything as it happened; ----and who, of all things in the world, troubled his brain the least with abstruse thinking; --the ideas of time and space--or how we came by those ideas--or of what stuff they were made----or whether they were born with us--or we picked them up afterwards as we went along--or whether we did it in frocks----or not till we had got into breeches--with a thousand other inquiries and disputes about INFINITY, PRESCIENCE, LIBERTY, NECESSITY, and so forth, upon whose desperate and unconquerable theories so many fine heads have been turned and cracked----never did my uncle _Toby's_ the least injury at all; my father knew it--and was no less surprized than he was disappointed, with my uncle's fortuitous solution.

My father had proposed infinite pleasure to himself in this argument of the succession of ideas, and had not the least apprehension of having it snatched out of his hands by my uncle Toby, who (honest man!) generally never troubled his brain with abstruse ideas of time and space. Theories about Infinity, Prescience, Liberty, Necessity, and so forth, which have cracked so many fine heads, never did my uncle Toby's head the least injury. My father knew it, and was no less surprised than he was disappointed with my uncle's answer.


Do you understand the theory of that affair? replied my father.

'Do you understand the theory of that?' he asked.


--But you have some ideas, said my father, of what you talk about?--

'But you have some idea of what you talk about?'


No more than my horse, replied my uncle _Toby_.

'No more than my horse,' replied my uncle Toby.


Gracious heaven! cried my father, looking upwards, and clasping his two hands together----there is a worth in thy honest ignorance, brother _Toby_----'twere almost a pity to exchange it for a knowledge. --But I'll tell thee.----

'Gracious heaven!' cried my father, 'there is a worth in thy honest ignorance, brother Toby - 'twere almost a pity to exchange it for knowledge. - But I'll tell thee.


To understand what _time_ is aright, without which we never can comprehend _infinity_, insomuch as one is a portion of the other----we ought seriously to sit down and consider what idea it is we have of _duration_, so as to give a satisfactory account how we came by it. ----What is that to anybody? quoth my uncle _Toby_. [3.3]_For if you will turn your eyes inwards upon your mind_, continued my father, _and observe attentively, you will perceive, brother, that whilst you and I are talking together, and thinking, and smoking our pipes, or whilst we receive successively ideas in our minds, we know that we do exist, and so we estimate the existence, or the continuation of the existence of ourselves, or anything else, commensurate to the succession of any ideas in our minds, the duration of ourselves, or any such other thing co-existing with our thinking----and so according to that preconceived_ ------You puzzle me to death, cried my uncle _Toby_.

To understand what time is, without which we never can comprehend infinity, - we ought seriously to sit down and consider what idea we have of duration, and how we came by it.'
'Why?'
'If you will turn your eyes inwards upon your mind,' continued my father, 'you will perceive, brother, that whilst we are talking, and thinking, and smoking our pipes, we know that we exist, and so we estimate the existence, or the continuation of the existence of ourselves, or anything else, commensurate to the succession of any ideas in our minds, the duration of ourselves, or any such other thing co-existing with our thinking - and so according to that preconceived-'
'You puzzle me to death,' cried my uncle Toby.


------'Tis owing to this, replied my father, that in our computations of _time_, we are so used to minutes, hours, weeks, and months----and of clocks (I wish there was not a clock in the kingdom) to measure out their several portions to us, and to those who belong to us----that 'twill be well, if in time to come, the _succession of our ideas_ be of any use or service to us at all.


Now, whether we observe it or no, continued my father, in every sound man's head, there is a regular succession of ideas of one sort or other, which follow each other in train just like ------A train of artillery? said my uncle _Toby_ ----A train of a fiddle-stick! --quoth my father--which follow and succeed one another in our minds at certain distances, just like the images in the inside of a lanthorn turned round by the heat of a candle. --I declare, quoth my uncle _Toby_, mine are more like a smoak-jack. ------Then, brother _Toby_, I have nothing more to say to you upon that subject, said my father.

'In every man's head, there is a regular succession of ideas which follow each other in train just like-'
'A train of artillery?' said my uncle Toby.
'A train of a fiddle-stick!' quoth my father. '- which follow and succeed one another in our minds like the images in the inside of a lantern turned round by the heat of a candle.'
'I declare,' quoth my uncle, 'mine are more like a smoke-jack that turns a spit in a chimney.'
'Then, brother Toby, I have nothing more to say to you upon the subject,' said my father.


My father was returned from his walk to the fish-pond----and opened the parlour-door in the very height of the attack, just as my uncle _Toby_ was marching up the glacis----_Trim_ recovered his arms----never was my uncle _Toby_ caught in riding at such a desperate rate in his life! Alas! my uncle _Toby!_ had not a weightier matter called forth all the ready eloquence of my father--how hadst thou then and thy poor HOBBY-HORSE too been insulted!

My father returned from his walk to the fish-pond, and opened the parlour-door just as my uncle Toby was marching up the glacis. Never in his life was my uncle Toby caught riding at such a desperate rate! Alas! my uncle Toby! had not a weightier matter called forth my father's eloquence - how would thy poor Hobby-Horse then have been insulted!


My father hung up his hat with the same air he took it down; and after giving a slight look at the disorder of the room, he took hold of one of the chairs which had formed the corporal's breach, and placing it over-against my uncle _Toby_, he sat down in it, and as soon as the tea-things were taken away, and the door shut, he broke out in a lamentation as follows.

My father hung up his hat, and after glancing at the disorder of the room, he took one of the chairs which had formed the corporal's breach, and sat down in it. As soon as the tea-things were taken away, and the door shut, he broke out in a lamentation.


It is in vain longer, said my father, addressing himself as much to _Ernulphus's_ curse, which was laid upon the corner of the chimney-piece----as to my uncle _Toby_ who sat under it----it is in vain longer, said my father, in the most querulous monotony imaginable, to struggle as I have done against this most uncomfortable of human persuasions ----I see it plainly, that either for my own sins, brother _Toby_, or the sins and follies of the _Shandy_ family, Heaven has thought fit to draw forth the heaviest of its artillery against me; and that the prosperity of my child is the point upon which the whole force of it is directed to play. ------Such a thing would batter the whole universe about our ears, brother _Shandy_, said my uncle _Toby_--if it was so --Unhappy _Tristram_: child of wrath! child of decrepitude! interruption! mistake! and discontent! What one misfortune or disaster in the book of embryotic evils, that could unmechanize thy frame, or entangle thy filaments! which has not fallen upon thy head, or ever thou camest into the world----what evils in thy passage into it! ------what evils since! ----produced into being, in the decline of thy father's days----when the powers of his imagination and of his body were waxing feeble----when radical heat and radical moisture, the elements which should have temper'd thine, were drying up; and nothing left to found thy stamina in, but negations--'tis pitiful------brother _Toby_, at the best, and called out for all the little helps that care and attention on both sides could give it. But how were we defeated! You know the event, brother _Toby_----'tis too melancholy a one to be repeated now----when the few animal spirits I was worth in the world, and with which memory, fancy, and quick parts should have been convey'd------were all dispersed, confused, confounded, scattered, and sent to the devil. ------

'It is in vain,' said my father, 'to struggle any longer against this most uncomfortable idea. I see plainly, that either for my own sins, brother Toby, or for the sins and follies of the Shandy family, Heaven has arrayed its heaviest artillery against me; and its force is directed against the prosperity of my child.'
'Such a thing would batter the universe about our ears, brother Shandy,' said my uncle Toby, 'if it was so.'
'Unhappy Tristram: child of wrath! mistake! and discontent! What misfortune in the book of embryonic evils, has not fallen upon thy head, ever since thou camest into the world, in the decline of thy father's days - 'tis pitiful, brother Toby. How were we defeated! You know the event - 'tis too melancholy a one to be repeated now - when the few animal spirits I had, with which memory, imagination, and quick wits should have been conveyed to my son - were all dispersed, confused, and sent to the devil.


Here then was the time to have put a stop to this persecution against him; ------and tried an experiment at least------whether calmness and serenity of mind in your sister, with a due attention, brother _Toby_, to her evacuations and repletions------and the rest of her non-naturals, might not, in a course of nine months gestation, have set all things to rights. ------My child was bereft of these! ------What a teazing life did she lead herself, and consequently her ftus too, with that nonsensical anxiety of hers about lying-in in town? I thought my sister submitted with the greatest patience, replied my uncle _Toby_ --------I never heard her utter one fretful word about it. ------She fumed inwardly, cried my father; and that, let me tell you, brother, was ten times worse for the child--and then! what battles did she fight with me, and what perpetual storms about the midwife. ------There she gave vent, said my uncle _Toby_. ------Vent! cried my father, looking up.

'Here was the time to have tried an experiment - whether serenity of mind in my wife, with a due attention, brother Toby, to her evacuations and repletions, might not, during nine months gestation, have set all things to rights. My child was bereft of these! What a teazing life did she lead herself, and consequently her foetus too, with that nonsensical anxiety about lying-in in town?'
'I thought my sister in law submitted with the greatest patience,' replied my uncle Toby. 'I never heard her utter one fretful word about it.'
'She fumed inwardly,' cried my father; 'and that, let me tell you, was ten times worse for the child. - And then! what battles did she fight with me about the midwife!'
'There she gave vent,' said my uncle Toby.
'Vent!' cried my father.


But what was all this, my dear _Toby_, to the injuries done us by my child's coming head foremost into the world, when all I wished, in this general wreck of his frame, was to have saved this little casket unbroke, unrifled.------

'But what was all this, my dear Toby, to the injuries done by my child's coming head foremost into the world, when all I wished was to have saved this little casket unbroke.


With all my precautions, how was my system turned topside-turvy in the womb with my child! his head exposed to the hand of violence, and a pressure of 470 pounds avoirdupois weight acting so perpendicularly upon its apex--that at this hour 'tis ninety _per Cent._ insurance, that the fine net-work of the intellectual web be not rent and torn to a thousand tatters.

- With all my precautions, my system was turned topside-turvy in the womb! his head exposed to the hand of violence, and a pressure of 470 pounds avoirdupois acting so upon its apex - 'tis ninety per cent likely that the fine net-work of the intellectual web was torn to a thousand tatters.


----Still we could have done. ----Fool, coxcomb, puppy----give him but a NOSE ----Cripple, Dwarf, Driveller, Goosecap------(shape him as you will) the door of fortune stands open--_O Licetus!_ _Licetus!_ had I been blest with a ftus five inches long and a half, like thee --Fate might have done her worst.

'Still we could have done,' he went on. 'Be he a fool, a cripple - give him but a Nose and the door of fortune stands open. There Fate has done her worst.


Still, brother _Toby_, there was one cast of the dye left for our child after all--_O Tristram!_ _Tristram!_ _Tristram!_

Yet still, brother Toby, there was one cast of the dice left for our child. O Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!'


We will send for Mr. _Yorick_, said my uncle _Toby_.

'We will send for Mr. Yorick,' said my uncle Toby.


----You may send for whom you will, replied my father.

'You may send for whom you will,' replied my father.


After my father had debated the affair of the breeches with my mother, --he consulted _Albertus Rubenius_ upon it; and _Albertus Rubenius_ used my father ten times worse in the consultation (if possible) than even my father had used my mother: For as _Rubenius_ had wrote a quarto _express_, _De re Vestiaria Veterum_, --it was _Rubenius's_ business to have given my father some lights. --On the contrary, my father might as well have thought of extracting the seven cardinal virtues out of a long beard, --as of extracting a single word out of _Rubenius_ upon the subject.

After my father had debated the affair of the breeches with my mother, he consulted Albertus Rubenius upon it; and Rubenius used my father ten times worse (if possible) than my father had used my mother. My father might as well have thought of extracting the seven cardinal virtues out of a beard, as of extracting a single word out of Rubenius upon the subject.


Upon every other article of ancient dress, _Rubenius_ was very communicative to my father; --gave him a full and satisfactory account of

Upon every other article of ancient dress, Rubenius was very communicative; he gave a full and satisfactory account of


The Toga, or loose gown. The Chlamys. The Ephod. The Tunica, or Jacket. The Synthesis. The Pnula. The Lacema, with its Cucullus. The Paludamentum. The Prtexta. The Sagum, or soldier's jerkin. The Trabea: of which, according to _Suetonius_, there were three kinds.--

The Toga, or loose gown.
The Chlamys.
The Ephod.
The Tunica, or Jacket.
The Synthesis.
The Paenula.
The Lacema, with its Cucullus.
The Paludamentum.
The Praetexta.
The Sagum, or soldier's jerkin.


----But what are all these to the breeches? said my father.

'But what are all these to the breeches?' said my father.


_Rubenius_ threw him down upon the counter all kinds of shoes which had been in fashion with the _Romans_.------

Rubenius threw down upon the counter all kinds of shoes which had been in fashion with the Romans:


The open shoe. The close shoe. The slip shoe. The wooden shoe. The soc. The buskin. And The military shoe with hobnails in it, which _Juvenal_ takes notice of. There were, The clogs. The pattins. The pantoufles. The brogues. The sandals, with latchets to them. There was, The felt shoe. The linen shoe. The laced shoe. The braided shoe. The calceus incisus. And The calceus rostratus.

The open shoe.
The close shoe.
The slip shoe.
The wooden shoe.
The hobnailed military shoe.
The clogs.
The pattins.
The pantoufles.
The brogues.
The sandals.
The felt shoe.
The linen shoe.
The laced shoe.
The braided shoe.


_Rubenius_ shewed my father how well they all fitted, --in what manner they laced on, --with what points, straps, thongs, latchets, ribbands, jaggs, and ends.------

Rubenius shewed my father how well they all fitted, how they laced on, with what straps, thongs, ribbons, jags, and ends.


----But I want to be informed about the breeches, said my father.

'But I want to know about the breeches,' said my father.


_Albertus Rubenius_ informed my father that the _Romans_ manufactured stuffs of various fabrics, ----some plain, --some striped, --others diapered throughout the whole contexture of the wool, with silk and gold ----That linen did not begin to be in common use till towards the declension of the empire, when the _Egyptians_ coming to settle amongst them, brought it into vogue.

Rubenius informed my father that the Romans manufactured various fabrics, some plain, some striped, some woven through with silk and gold; that linen was not in common use till the decline of the empire, when the Egyptians brought it into vogue.


----That persons of quality and fortune distinguished themselves by the fineness and whiteness of their clothes; which colour (next to purple, which was appropriated to the great offices) they most affected, and wore on their birthdays and public rejoicings. ----That it appeared from the best historians of those times, that they frequently sent their clothes to the fuller, to be clean'd and whitened: ----but that the inferior people, to avoid that expence, generally wore brown clothes, and of a something coarser texture, --till towards the beginning of _Augustus's_ reign, when the slave dressed like his master, and almost every distinction of habiliment was lost, but the _Latus Clavus_.

-That persons of quality distinguished themselves by the fineness and whiteness of their clothes; which colour they wore on their birthdays and public rejoicings. That it appeared from historians that they frequently sent their clothes to be cleaned and whitened: but that poorer people generally wore brown clothes of a coarser texture, till Augustus's reign, when the slave dressed like his master, and almost every distinction of dress was lost, but the Latus Clavus.


And what was the _Latus Clavus?_ said my father.

'And what was the Latus Clavus?' said my father.


_Rubenius_ told him, that the point was still litigating amongst the learned: ----That _Egnatius_, _Sigonius_, _Bossius Ticinensis_, _Bayfius_, _Budus_, _Salmasius_, _Lipsius_, _Lazius_, _Isaac Casaubon_, and _Joseph Scaliger_, all differed from each other, --and he from them: That some took it to be the button, --some the coat itself, --others only the colour of it: --That the great _Bayfius_, in his Wardrobe of the Ancients, chap. 12--honestly said, he knew not what it was, --whether a tibula, --a stud, --a button, --a loop, --a buckle, --or clasps and keepers.------

Rubenius told him that the point was still being argued amongst the learned: that Egnatius, Sigonius, Lipsius, Lazius, Casaubon and Scaliger, all differed from each other. Some took it to be the button; some the coat itself; others only the colour of it. Bayfius, in his Wardrobe of the Ancients, chap. 12, honestly said he knew not what it was, whether a stud, a button, a loop, a buckle, or a clasp.


----My father lost the horse, but not the saddle ----They are _hooks and eyes_, said my father----and with hooks and eyes he ordered my breeches to be made.

My father lost the horse, but not the saddle.
'They are hooks and eyes,' said he - and with hooks and eyes he ordered my breeches to be made.


From the first moment I sat down to write my life for the amusement of the world, and my opinions for its instruction, has a cloud insensibly been gathering over my father. ----A tide of little evils and distresses has been setting in against him. --Not one thing, as he observed himself, has gone right: and now is the storm thicken'd and going to break, and pour down full upon his head.

From the first moment I sat down to write this for the amusement and instruction of the world, a cloud has been slowly gathering over my father. A tide of little evils and distresses has been setting in against him. - Not one thing, as he observed, has gone right: and now is the storm going to break and pour down full upon his head.