_O Slawkenbergius!_ thou faithful analyzer of my _Disgrazias_--thou sad foreteller of so many of the whips and short turns which in one stage or other of my life have come slap upon me from the shortness of my nose, and no other cause, that I am conscious of. --Tell me, _Slawkenbergius!_ what secret impulse was it? what intonation of voice? whence came it? how did it sound in thy ears? ----art thou sure thou heard'st it? ----which first cried out to thee------go------go, _Slawkenbergius!_ dedicate the labours of thy life----neglect thy pastimes------call forth all the powers and faculties of thy nature----macerate thyself in the service of mankind, and write a grand FOLIO for them, upon the subject of their noses.
How the communication was conveyed into _Slawkenbergius's_ sensorium----so that _Slawkenbergius_ should know whose finger touch'd the key--and whose hand it was that blew the bellows----as _Hafen Slawkenbergius_ has been dead and laid in his grave above fourscore and ten years------we can only raise conjectures.
_Slawkenbergius_ was play'd upon, for aught I know, like one of _Whitefield's_ disciples----that is, with such a distinct intelligence, Sir, of which of the two _masters_ it was that had been practising upon his _instrument_------as to make all reasoning upon it needless.
------For in the account which _Hafen Slawkenbergius_ gives the world of his motives and occasions for writing, and spending so many years of his life upon this one work--towards the end of his prolegomena, which by the bye should have come first----but the bookbinder has most injudiciously placed it betwixt the analytical contents of the book, and the book itself--he informs his reader, that ever since he had arrived at the age of discernment, and was able to sit down coolly, and consider within himself the true state and condition of man, and distinguish the main end and design of his being; ----or--to shorten my translation, for _Slawkenbergius's_ book is in _Latin_, and not a little prolix in this passage--ever since I understood, quoth _Slawkenbergius_, any thing----or rather _what was what_----and could perceive that the point of long noses had been too loosely handled by all who had gone before; ----have I, _Slawkenbergius_, felt a strong impulse, with a mighty and unresistible call within me, to gird up myself to this undertaking.
And to do justice to _Slawkenbergius_, he has entered the list with a stronger lance, and taken a much larger career in it than any one man who had ever entered it before him----and indeed, in many respects, deserves to be _en-nich'd_ as a prototype for all writers, of voluminous works at least, to model their books by----for he has taken in, Sir, the whole subject--examined every part of it _dialectically_------then brought it into full day; dilucidating it with all the light which either the collision of his own natural parts could strike--or the profoundest knowledge of the sciences had impowered him to cast upon it--collating, collecting, and compiling------begging, borrowing, and stealing, as he went along, all that had been wrote or wrangled thereupon in the schools and porticos of the learned: so that _Slawkenbergius_ his book may properly be considered, not only as a model--but as a thorough-stitched DIGEST and regular institute of _noses_, comprehending in it all that is or can be needful to be known about them.
For this cause it is that I forbear to speak of so many (otherwise) valuable books and treatises of my father's collecting, wrote either, plump upon noses----or collaterally touching them; ------such for instance as _Prignitz_, now lying upon the table before me, who with infinite learning, and from the most candid and scholar-like examination of above four thousand different skulls, in upwards of twenty charnel-houses in _Silesia_, which he had rummaged------has informed us, that the mensuration and configuration of the osseous or bony parts of human noses, in any _given_ tract of country, except _Crim Tartary_, where they are all crush'd down by the thumb, so that no judgment can be formed upon them--are much nearer alike, than the world imagines; --the difference amongst them being, he says, a mere trifle, not worth taking notice of; ----but that the size and jollity of every individual nose, and by which one nose ranks above another, and bears a higher price, is owing to the cartilaginous and muscular parts of it, into whose ducts and sinuses the blood and animal spirits being impell'd and driven by the warmth and force of the imagination, which is but a step from it (bating the case of idiots, whom _Prignitz_, who had lived many years in _Turky_, supposes under the more immediate tutelage of Heaven)--it so happens, and ever must, says _Prignitz_, that the excellency of the nose is in a direct arithmetical proportion to the excellency of the wearer's fancy.
It is for the same reason, that is, because 'tis all comprehended in _Slawkenbergius_, that I say nothing likewise of _Scroderus_ (_Andrea_) who, all the world knows, set himself to oppugn _Prignitz_ with great violence--proving it in his own way, first _logically_, and then by a series of stubborn facts, "That so far was _Prignitz_ from the truth, in affirming that the fancy begat the nose, that on the contrary--the nose begat the fancy."
--The learned suspected _Scroderus_ of an indecent sophism in this--and _Prignitz_ cried out aloud in the dispute, that _Scroderus_ had shifted the idea upon him----but _Scroderus_ went on, maintaining his thesis.
My father was just balancing within himself, which of the two sides he should take in this affair; when _Ambrose Parus_ decided it in a moment, and by overthrowing the systems, both of _Prignitz_ and _Scroderus_, drove my father out of both sides of the controversy at once.
Be witness------
I don't acquaint the learned reader--in saying it, I mention it only to shew the learned, I know the fact myself------
That this _Ambrose Parus_ was chief surgeon and nose-mender to _Francis_ the ninth of _France_, and in high credit with him and the two preceding, or succeeding kings (I know not which)--and that, except in the slip he made in his story of _Taliacotius's_ noses, and his manner of setting them on--he was esteemed by the whole college of physicians at that time, as more knowing in matters of noses, than any one who had ever taken them in hand.
Now _Ambrose Parus_ convinced my father, that the true and efficient cause of what had engaged so much the attention of the world, and upon which _Prignitz_ and _Scroderus_ had wasted so much learning and fine parts----was neither this nor that----but that the length and goodness of the nose was owing simply to the softness and flaccidity in the nurse's breast------as the flatness and shortness of _puisne_ noses was to the firmness and elastic repulsion of the same organ of nutrition in the hale and lively--which, tho' happy for the woman, was the undoing of the child, inasmuch as his nose was so snubb'd, so rebuff'd, so rebated, and so refrigerated thereby, as never to arrive _ad mensuram suam legitimam_; ----but that in case of the flaccidity and softness of the nurse or mother's breast--by sinking into it, quoth _Parus_, as into so much butter, the nose was comforted, nourish'd, plump'd up, refresh'd, refocillated, and set a growing for ever.
I have but two things to observe of _Parus_; first, That he proves and explains all this with the utmost chastity and decorum of expression: --for which may his soul for ever rest in peace!
And, secondly, that besides the systems of _Prignitz_ and _Scroderus_, which _Ambrose Parus_ his hypothesis effectually overthrew--it overthrew at the same time the system of peace and harmony of our family; and for three days together, not only embroiled matters between my father and my mother, but turn'd likewise the whole house and everything in it, except my uncle _Toby_, quite upside down.
Such a ridiculous tale of a dispute between a man and his wife, never surely in any age or country got vent through the key-hole of a street-door.
My mother, you must know------but I have fifty things more necessary to let you know first ----I have a hundred difficulties which I have promised to clear up, and a thousand distresses and domestick misadventures crowding in upon me thick and threefold, one upon the neck of another. A cow broke in (to-morrow morning) to my uncle _Toby's_ fortifications, and eat up two rations and a half of dried grass, tearing up the sods with it, which faced his horn-work and covered way. ----_Trim_ insists upon being tried by a court-martial--the cow to be shot--_Slop_ to be _crucifix'd_--myself to be _tristram'd_ and at my very baptism made a martyr of; ----poor unhappy devils that we all are! ----I want swaddling------but there is no time to be lost in exclamations ------I have left my father lying across his bed, and my uncle _Toby_ in his old fringed chair, sitting beside him, and promised I would go back to them in half an hour; and five-and-thirty minutes are laps'd already. ------Of all the perplexities a mortal author was ever seen in----this certainly is the greatest, for I have _Hafen Slawkenbergius's_ folio, Sir, to finish----a dialogue between my father and my uncle _Toby_, upon the solution of _Prignitz_, _Scroderus_, _Ambrose Parus_, _Ponocrates_, and _Grangousier_ to relate--a tale out of _Slawkenbergius_ to translate, and all this in five minutes less than no time at all; ------such a head! --would to Heaven my enemies only saw the inside of it!

O Slawkenbergius! thou faithful analyzer of my Disgrazias - thou sad foreteller of the misfortunes which have come slap upon me from the shortness of my nose, and no other cause. Tell me, Slawkenbergius! what secret impulse first cried out to thee - 'Go, go, Slawkenbergius! dedicate the labours of thy life and all thy powers to the service of mankind, and write a grand Folio for them, upon the subject of their noses.'
How this came to pass - as he has been dead and buried ninety years - we can only guess.
In the account which Hafen Slawkenbergius gives the world of his motives for spending so many years writing this one work - towards the end of his prologue, which by the bye should have come first, but the bookbinder has most injudiciously placed it betwixt the contents list and the book itself - he informs his reader, that ever since he had arrived at the age of discernment, and was able to sit down coolly, and consider the true state of man - or, to shorten my translation, for Slawkenbergius's book is in Latin, and somewhat prolix - 'ever since I understood what was what,' quoth Slawkenbergius, 'and could see that the point of long noses had been too loosely handled by others, I have felt a mighty and irresistible call to undertake this myself.'
And to do him justice, he deserves to be held up as a prototype for all writers of voluminous works. For he has taken in, Sir, the whole subject - examined every part of it - then brought it into full daylight; elucidating it with his profound knowledge of the sciences - collecting, and compiling - begging, borrowing, and stealing, as he went along, so that his book may be considered a thorough-stitched Digest and regular institute of noses, containing all that needs to be known about them.
Therefore I will not speak of many (otherwise) valuable books of my father's collection, either wrote plump on noses or touching them - such as Prignitz, now lying upon the table before me, who from the examination of four thousand different skulls, in twenty charnel-houses in Silesia, through which he had rummaged - has informed us, that the shape of the osseous or bony parts of human noses, in every country except Crim Tartary, are much more alike than the world imagines; and that the size and jollity of every individual nose is owing to the cartilaginous and muscular parts of it, into whose ducts the blood and animal spirits are driven by the warmth of the imagination. So, says Prignitz, the excellency of the nose is in direct arithmetical proportion to the excellency of the wearer's fancy or imagination.
Likewise, because 'tis all contained in Slawkenbergius, I say nothing of Scroderus who, all the world knows, violently opposed Prignitz - proving 'that on the contrary - the nose begat the fancy.'
My father was weighing up which side he should take in this affair; when Ambrose Paraeus decided it by overthrowing both systems.
I am sure the learned know this: I mention it only to show that I know the fact myself-
That this Ambrose Paraeus was chief surgeon and nose-mender to Francis the Ninth of France, and was esteemed by the whole college of physicians, for knowing more about noses than anyone who had ever taken them in hand.
Now Ambrose Paraeus convinced my father that both Prignitz and Scoderus were wrong; and that the length and goodness of the nose was owing simply to the softness of the nurse's breast; and flat, short noses were due to firmness of the same organ of nutrition in the healthy - which, though happy for the woman, was the undoing of the child, inasmuch as his nose was so snubbed that it would never grow to full measure. But when the mother's breast was soft and flaccid - by sinking into it, quoth Paraeus, as into so much butter, the nose was comforted, nourished, plumped up, and set a-growing for ever.
I have two things to observe of Paraeus; first, that he explains all this with the utmost chastity and decorum: for which may he rest in peace!
And, secondly, that his hypothesis overthrew not only the systems of Prignitz and Scroderus - but also the peace and harmony of our family. For three days, it not only embroiled matters between my father and my mother, but turned the whole house and everything in it, except my uncle Toby, quite upside down.
Such a ridiculous dispute between a man and his wife surely never occurred. My mother, you must know-
- but I have fifty things more necessary to let you know first - I have a hundred difficulties to clear up, and a thousand domestic misadventures crowding in upon me thick and fast. A cow broke in (tomorrow morning) to my uncle Toby's fortifications, and ate the grass which faced his hornwork and covered way. - Trim insists upon a court-martial - the cow to be shot - Slop to be crucifixed - myself to be tristram'd and made a martyr of; - poor unhappy devils that we all are! - I need swaddling - but there is not time to waste - I have left my father lying across his bed, and my uncle Toby sitting in his old chair beside him, and promised I would go back to them in half an hour; and five-and-thirty minutes are lapsed already.
Of all the perplexities an author was ever in, this certainly is the greatest, for I have Slawkenbergius's folio, Sir, to finish - a dialogue between my father and my uncle Toby, upon the solution of Prignitz, Scroderus and others to relate - a tale out of Slawkenbergius to translate, and all this in five minutes less than no time at all. Such a head! would to Heaven my enemies only saw the inside of it!


As _Obadiah_ loved wind-music preferably to all the instrumental music he carried with him, --he very considerately set his imagination to work, to contrive and to invent by what means he should put himself in a condition of enjoying it.
In all distresses (except musical) where small cords are wanted, nothing is so apt to enter a man's head as his hat-band: ----the philosophy of this is so near the surface ----I scorn to enter into it.
As _Obadiah's_ was a mix'd case----mark, Sirs, ----I say, a mixed case; for it was obstetrical, ----_scrip_tical, squirtical, papistical----and as far as the coach-horse was concerned in it, ----caballistical----and only partly musical; --_Obadiah_ made no scruple of availing himself of the first expedient which offered; so taking hold of the bag and instruments, and griping them hard together with one hand, and with the finger and thumb of the other putting the end of the hat-band betwixt his teeth, and then slipping his hand down to the middle of it, --he tied and cross-tied them all fast together from one end to the other (as you would cord a trunk) with such a multiplicity of roundabouts and intricate cross turns, with a hard knot at every intersection or point where the strings met, --that Dr. _Slop_ must have had three-fifths of _Job's_ patience at least to have unloosed them. --I think in my conscience, that had NATURE been in one of her nimble moods, and in humour for such a contest----and she and Dr. _Slop_ both fairly started together----there is no man living who had seen the bag with all that _Obadiah_ had done to it, ----and known likewise the great speed the Goddess can make when she thinks proper, who would have had the least doubt remaining in his mind--which of the two would have carried off the prize. My mother, Madam, had been delivered sooner than the green bag infallibly----at least by twenty _knots_. ----Sport of small accidents, _Tristram Shandy!_ that thou art, and ever will be! had that trial been for thee, and it was fifty to one but it had, ----thy affairs had not been so depress'd--(at least by the depression of thy nose) as they have been; nor had the fortunes of thy house and the occasions of making them, which have so often presented themselves in the course of thy life, to thee, been so often, so vexatiously, so tamely, so irrecoverably abandoned--as thou hast been forced to leave them; ----but 'tis over, ----all but the account of 'em, which cannot be given to the curious till I am got out into the world.

As Obadiah preferred whistling to any other music, he set to work to contrive a means by which he could enjoy it.
In all distresses where small cords are wanted, nothing is so apt to enter a man's head as his hat-band. Obadiah did not hesitate to use his. So taking hold of the bag and instruments, and gripping them together with one hand, and with his other hand and his teeth pulling the hat-band down over them, he tied and cross-tied them all fast together from one end to the other with such a multiplicity of roundabouts and cross turns, with a knot at every intersection, that Dr. Slop must have had three-fifths of Job's patience to have unloosed them.
No man living who had seen that bag, who knew with what great speed Nature can hasten childbirth when she thinks proper, would have had the least doubt about which between Dr. Slop and Nature would have won the race. My mother, Madam, would have been delivered sooner than the green bag, by at least twenty knots.
The victim of small accidents, Tristram Shandy! thou wilt ever be! Had that happened - thy affairs would have not been so depressed - (at least by the depression of thy nose); nor the fortunes of thy house so often, so vexatiously abandoned - but 'tis over, all but the account of 'em, which cannot be given to the curious till I am got out into the world.


As I never had any intention of beginning the Digression I am making all this preparation for, till I come to the 15th chapter ----I have this chapter to put to whatever use I think proper ----I have twenty this moment ready for it ----I could write my chapter of Button-holes in it----
Or my chapter of _Pishes_, which should follow them----
Or my chapter of _Knots_, in case their reverences have done with them----they might lead me into mischief: the safest way is to follow the track of the learned, and raise objections against what I have been writing, tho' I declare beforehand, I know no more than my heels how to answer them.
And first, it may be said, there is a pelting kind of _thersitical_ satire, as black as the very ink 'tis wrote with----(and by the bye, whoever says so, is indebted to the muster-master general of the _Grecian_ army, for suffering the name of so ugly and foul-mouth'd a man as _Thersites_ to continue upon his roll----for it has furnish'd him with an epithet)----in these productions he will urge, all the personal washings and scrubbings upon earth do a sinking genius no sort of good----but just the contrary, inasmuch as the dirtier the fellow is, the better generally he succeeds in it.
To this, I have no other answer----at least ready----but that the Archbishop of _Benevento_ wrote his _nasty_ Romance of the _Galatea_, as all the world knows, in a purple coat, waistcoat, and purple pair of breeches; and that the penance set him of writing a commentary upon the book of the _Revelations_, as severe as it was look'd upon by one part of the world, was far from being deem'd so by the other, upon the single account of that _Investment_.
Another objection, to all this remedy, is its want of universality; forasmuch as the shaving part of it, upon which so much stress is laid, by an unalterable law of nature excludes one half of the species entirely from its use: all I can say is, that female writers, whether of _England_, or of _France_, must e'en go without it------
As for the _Spanish_ ladies ----I am in no sort of distress----

As I have no intention of beginning the Digression I am making all this preparation for, till I come to the 15th chapter - I have this chapter free to put to any use I think proper. - I have twenty this moment ready for it - I could write my chapter of Button-holes-
Or my chapter of Pishes-
Or my chapter of Knots - but they might lead me into mischief: the safest way is to follow the track of the learned, and raise objections against what I have been writing, though I declare, I know no more than my heels how to answer them.
It may be said, there is a pelting kind of Thersitical satire, as black as the ink 'tis wrote with - this sort of satirist urges that all the personal washings and scrubbings upon earth do a genius no good - but on the contrary, the dirtier the fellow is, the better he succeeds.
To this, I have no other answer but that the Archbishop of Benevento wrote his nasty Romance of the Galatea, as all the world knows, in a purple coat, waistcoat, and purple breeches; and on account of that outfit, the penance that was set him of writing a commentary upon the book of Revelations was hardly too severe.
Another objection to this remedy is its lack of universality; for the shaving part of it, by an unalterable law of nature, excludes one half of the species entirely from its use. All I can say is, that female writers, whether English or French, must do without it.
- As for the Spanish ladies - I do not care.


It is with LOVE as with CUCKOLDOM----
But now I am talking of beginning a book, and have long had a thing upon my mind to be imparted to the reader, which, if not imparted now, can never be imparted to him as long as I live (whereas the COMPARISON may be imparted to him any hour in the day) ----I'll just mention it, and begin in good earnest.
The thing is this.
That of all the several ways of beginning a book which are now in practice throughout the known world, I am confident my own way of doing it is the best ----I'm sure it is the most religious----for I begin with writing the first sentence----and trusting to Almighty God for the second.
'Twould cure an author for ever of the fuss and folly of opening his street-door, and calling in his neighbours and friends, and kinsfolk, with the devil and all his imps, with their hammers and engines, &c., only to observe how one sentence of mine follows another, and how the plan follows the whole.
I wish you saw me half starting out of my chair, with what confidence, as I grasp the elbow of it, I look up----catching the idea, even sometimes before it half way reaches me----
I believe in my conscience I intercept many a thought which heaven intended for another man.
_Pope_ and his Portrait[8.2] are fools to me----no martyr is ever so full of faith or fire ----I wish I could say of good works too----but I have no
Zeal or Anger----or Anger or Zeal----
And till gods and men agree together to call it by the same name----the errantest TARTUFFE, in science--in politics--or in religion, shall never kindle a spark within me, or have a worse word, or a more unkind greeting, than what he will read in the next chapter.
[Footnote 8.2: Vid. _Pope's_ Portrait.]

It is with Love as with Cuckoldom-
But now I am talking of beginning a book, and have long had a thing upon my mind to be told to the reader, which, if not told now, can never be told to him - so I'll just mention it, and then begin in good earnest.
The thing is this.
That of all the several ways of beginning a book which are now in practice throughout the world, I am confident my own way of doing it is the best. I'm sure it is the most religious - for I begin with writing the first sentence - and trusting to Almighty God for the second.
'Twould cure an author for ever of all the fuss and folly of opening his street-door, and calling in his neighbours and friends, with the devil and all his imps, just to observe how one sentence of mine follows another, and how the plan follows the whole.
I wish you saw me half-starting out of my chair; with what confidence I look up - catching the idea sometimes before it reaches me-
I have no
Zeal or Anger-
Anger or Zeal-
No-one shall ever kindle a worse spark within me, or have an unkinder greeting, than what he will read in the next chapter.


"By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the holy canons, and of the undefiled Virgin _Mary_, mother and patroness of our Saviour." I think there is no necessity, quoth Dr. _Slop_, dropping the paper down to his knee, and addressing himself to my father----as you have read it over, Sir, so lately, to read it aloud----and as Captain _Shandy_ seems to have no great inclination to hear it ------I may as well read it to myself. That's contrary to treaty, replied my father: ------besides, there is something so whimsical, especially in the latter part of it, I should grieve to lose the pleasure of a second reading. Dr. _Slop_ did not altogether like it, ------but my uncle _Toby_ offering at that instant to give over whistling, and read it himself to them; ------Dr. _Slop_ thought he might as well read it under the cover of my uncle _Toby's_ whistling------as suffer my uncle _Toby_ to read it alone; ----so raising up the paper to his face, and holding it quite parallel to it, in order to hide his chagrin------he read it aloud as follows--------my uncle _Toby_ whistling _Lillabullero_, though not quite so loud as before.
------Atque omnium clestium virtutum, angelorum, archangelorum, thronorum, dominationum, potestatuum, cherubin ac seraphin, & sanctorum patriarchum, prophetarum, & omnium apostolorum & evangelistarum, & sanctorum innocentum, qui in conspectu Agni soli digni inventi sunt canticum cantare novum, et sanctorum martyrum et sanctorum confessorum, et sanctarum virginum, atque omnium simul sanctorum et electorum _vel_ os Dei, ----Excommunicamus, et anathematizamus hunc s _vel_ os s furem, vel hunc malefactorem, N. N. et a liminibus sanct Dei _vel_ i n ecclesi sequestramus, et ternis suppliciis excruciandus, mancipetur, cum Dathan et Abiram, et cum his qui dixerunt Domino Deo, Recede nobis, scientiam viarum tuarum nolumus: et _vel_ eorum sicut aqu ignis extinguitur, sic extinguatur lucerna ejus in n n secula seculorum nisi resipuerit, et ad satisfactionem venerit. Amen.
"By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the undefiled Virgin _Mary_, mother and patroness of our Saviour, and of all the celestial virtues, angels, archangels, thrones, dominions, powers, cherubins and seraphins, and of all the holy patriarchs, prophets, and of all the apostles and evangelists, and of the holy innocents, who in the sight of the Holy Lamb, are found worthy to sing the new song of the holy martyrs and holy confessors, and of the holy virgins, and of all the saints, together with the holy and elect of God, ----May he" (_Obadiah_) "be damn'd" (for tying these knots)---- "We excommunicate, and anathematize him, and from the thresholds of the holy church of God Almighty we sequester him, that he may be tormented, disposed, and delivered over with _Dathan_ and _Abiram_, and with those who say unto the Lord God, Depart from us, we desire none of thy ways. And as fire is quenched with water, so let the light of him be put out for evermore, unless it shall repent him" (_Obadiah_, of the knots which he has tied) "and make satisfaction" (for them) "Amen."
os Maledicat illum Deus Pater qui hominem creavit. Maledicat os os illum Dei Filius qui pro homine passus est. Maledicat illum os Spiritus Sanctus qui in baptismo effusus est. Maledicat illum sancta crux, quam Christus pro nostr salute hostem triumphans ascendit.
"May the Father who created man, curse him. ----May the Son who suffered for us, curse him. ----May the Holy Ghost, who was given to us in baptism, curse him (_Obadiah_) ----May the holy cross which Christ, for our salvation triumphing over his enemies, ascended, curse him.
os Maledicat illum sancta Dei genetrix et perpetua Virgo Maria. os Maledicat illum sanctus Michael, animarum susceptor sacrarum. os Maledicant illum omnes angeli et archangeli, principatus et potestates, omnisque militia clestis.
"May the holy and eternal Virgin _Mary_, mother of God, curse him. ------May St. _Michael_, the advocate of holy souls, curse him. ----May all the angels and archangels, principalities and powers, and all the heavenly armies, curse him." [Our armies swore terribly in _Flanders_, cried my uncle _Toby_, ------but nothing to this. ------For my own part I could not have a heart to curse my dog so.]
os Maledicat illum patriarcharum et prophetarum laudabilis os numerus. Maledicat illum sanctus Johannes Prcusor et Baptista Christi, et sanctus Petrus, et sanctus Paulus, atque sanctus Andreas, omnesque Christi apostoli, simul et cteri discipuli, quatuor quoque evangelist, qui sua prdicatione os mundum universum converterunt. Maledicat illum cuneus martyrum et confessorum mirificus, qui Deo bonis operibus placitus inventus est.
"May St. John, the Prcursor, and St. John the Baptist, and St. Peter and St. Paul, and St. Andrew, and all other Christ's apostles, together curse him. And may the rest of his disciples and four evangelists, who by their preaching converted the universal world, and may the holy and wonderful company of martyrs and confessors who by their holy works are found pleasing to God Almighty, curse him" (_Obadiah_).
os Maledicant illum sacrarum virginum chori, qu mundi vana causa honoris Christi respuenda contempserunt. Maledicant os illum omnes sancti qui ab initio mundi usque in finem seculi Deo dilecti inveniuntur.
os Maledicant illum cli et terra, et omnia sancta in eis manentia.
"May the holy choir of the holy virgins, who for the honour of Christ have despised the things of the world, damn him ----May all the saints, who from the beginning of the world to everlasting ages are found to be beloved of God, damn him ------May the heavens and earth, and all the holy things remaining therein, damn him" (_Obadiah_) "or her" (or whoever else had a hand in tying these knots).
i n n Maledictus sit ubicunque fuerit, sive in domo, sive in agro, sive in vi, sive in semit, sive in silv, sive in aqu, sive in ecclesi.
i n Maledictus sit vivendo, moriendo, ---------------------------- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ manducando, bibendo, esuriendo, sitiendo, jejunando, dormitando, dormiendo, vigilando, ambulando, stando, sedendo, jacendo, operando, quiescendo, mingendo, cacando, flebotomando.
"May he (_Obadiah_) be damn'd wherever he be----whether in the house or the stables, the garden or the field, or the highway, or in the path, or in the wood, or in the water, or in the church. ----May he be cursed in living, in dying." [Here my uncle _Toby_, taking the advantage of a _minim_ in the second bar of his tune, kept whistling one continued note to the end of the sentence. ----Dr. _Slop_, with his division of curses moving under him, like a running bass all the way.] "May he be cursed in eating, and drinking, in being hungry, in being thirsty, in fasting, in sleeping, in slumbering, in walking, in standing, in sitting, in lying, in working, in resting, in pissing, in shitting, and in blood-letting!"
i n Maledictus sit in totis viribus corporis,
"May he" (_Obadiah_) "be cursed in all the faculties of his body!
i n Maledictus sit intus et exterius.
i n i n i Maledictus sit in capillis; maledictus sit in cerebro. Maledictus n sit in vertice, in temporibus, in fronte, in auriculis, in superciliis, in oculis, in genis, in maxillis, in naribus, in dentibus, mordacibus, sive molaribus, in labiis, in guttere, in humeris, in harnis, in brachiis, in manubus, in digitis, in pectore, in corde, et in omnibus interioribus stomacho tenus, in renibus, in inguinibus, in femore, in genitalibus, in coxis, in genubus, in cruribus, in pedibus, et in inguibus.
"May he be cursed inwardly and outwardly! ------May he be cursed in the hair of his head! ----May he be cursed in his brains, and in his vertex" (that is a sad curse, quoth my father), "in his temples, in his forehead, in his ears, in his eye-brows, in his cheeks, in his jaw-bones, in his nostrils, in his fore-teeth and grinders, in his lips, in his throat, in his shoulders, in his wrists, in his arms, in his hands, in his fingers!
"May he be damn'd in his mouth, in his breast, in his heart and purtenance, down to the very stomach!
"May he be cursed in his reins, and in his groin" (God in heaven forbid! quoth my uncle _Toby_), "in his thighs, in his genitals" (my father shook his head), "and in his hips, and in his knees, his legs, and feet, and toe-nails!
Maledictus sit in totis compagibus membrorum, a vertice capitis, usque ad plantam pedis--non sit in eo sanitas.
"May he be cursed in all the joints and articulations of his members, from the top of his head to the sole of his foot! May there be no soundness in him!
Maledicat illum Christus Filius Dei vivi toto su majestatis imperio.----
"May the Son of the living God, with all the glory of his Majesty" ----[Here my uncle _Toby_, throwing back his head, gave a monstrous, long, loud Whew--w--w--------something betwixt the interjectional whistle of _Hay-day!_ and the word itself.------
----By the golden beard of _Jupiter_--and of _Juno_ (if her majesty wore one) and by the beards of the rest of your heathen worships, which by the bye was no small number, since what with the beards of your celestial gods, and gods aerial and aquatick--to say nothing of the beards of town-gods and country-gods, or of the celestial goddesses your wives, or of the infernal goddesses your whores and concubines (that is in case they wore them)------all which beards, as _Varro_ tells me, upon his word and honour, when mustered up together, made no less than thirty thousand effective beards upon the Pagan establishment; ----every beard of which claimed the rights and privileges of being stroken and sworn by--by all these beards together then ----I vow and protest, that of the two bad cassocks I am worth in the world, I would have given the better of them, as freely as ever _Cid Hamet_ offered his----to have stood by, and heard my uncle _Toby's_ accompanyment.]
----et insurgat adversus illum clum cum omnibus virtutibus qu in eo moventur ad _damnandum_ eum, nisi penituerit et ad satisfactionem venerit. Amen. Fiat, fiat. Amen.
----"curse him!" continued Dr. _Slop_, --"and may heaven, with all the powers which move therein, rise up against him, curse and damn him" (_Obadiah_) "unless he repent and make satisfaction! Amen. So be it, --so be it. Amen."
I declare, quoth my uncle _Toby_, my heart would not let me curse the devil himself with so much bitterness. --He is the father of curses, replied Dr. _Slop_. ----So am not I, replied my uncle. ----But he is cursed, and damn'd already, to all eternity, replied Dr. _Slop_.
I am sorry for it, quoth my uncle _Toby_.
Dr. _Slop_ drew up his mouth, and was just beginning to return my uncle _Toby_ the compliment of his Whu--u--u--or interjectional whistle----when the door hastily opening in the next chapter but one----put an end to the affair.
[Footnote 3.2: As the genuineness of the consultation of the _Sorbonne_ upon the question of baptism, was doubted by some, and denied by others----'twas thought proper to print the original of this excommunication; for the copy of which Mr. _Shandy_ returns thanks to the chapter clerk of the dean and chapter of _Rochester_.]

'"By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the holy canons, and of the undefiled Virgin Mary, mother of our Saviour." I think there is no need to read aloud,' quoth Dr. Slop to my father, dropping the paper to his knee, 'as you have read it so lately, Sir. I may as well read it to myself.'
'No,' replied my father; 'there is something so whimsical, especially in the latter part of it, I should enjoy a second reading.'
Dr. Slop did not altogether like it; but when my uncle Toby offered to give over whistling, and read it himself, Dr. Slop thought he might as well read it under the cover of my uncle's whistling; so raising the paper to his face to hide his chagrin, he read it aloud as follows, - my uncle Toby whistling Lillabullero, though not quite so loud as before.
'"By the authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the undefiled Virgin Mary, mother of our Saviour, and of all the celestial angels, archangels, thrones, dominions, powers, cherubins and seraphins, and of all the holy patriarchs, prophets, apostles and evangelists, and of the holy innocents, and all the saints - May he (Obadiah) be damned (for tying these knots). We excommunicate him, and from the thresholds of the holy church of God Almighty we sequester him, that he may be tormented and delivered over with those who reject the Lord God. And as fire is quenched with water, so let the light of him be put out for evermore, unless he shall repent (Obadiah, of the knots which he has tied). Amen.
'"May the Father who created man, curse him. May the Son who suffered for us, curse him. May the Holy Ghost, who was given to us in baptism, curse him (Obadiah). May the holy cross which Christ ascended, curse him.
'"May the holy and eternal Virgin Mary, mother of God, curse him. May all the angels and archangels, and all the heavenly armies, curse him."' ['Our armies swore terribly in Flanders,' cried my uncle Toby, 'but not like this. I could not curse my dog so.']
'"May St. John and St. Peter and St. Paul, and St. Andrew, and all Christ's apostles curse him. And may the other disciples and evangelists, who by their preaching converted the world, and may the holy company of martyrs and confessors who are found pleasing to God Almighty, curse him (Obadiah).
'"May the holy choir of virgins, who for the honour of Christ have despised the things of the world, damn him. May all the saints beloved of God, damn him. May the heavens and earth, and all the holy things therein, damn him (Obadiah).
'"May he (Obadiah) be damned wherever he be - whether in the house or the stables, the garden or the field, or the highway, the path, in the wood, or the water, or in the church. May he be cursed in living, in dying."' [Here my uncle Toby kept whistling one long note to the end of the sentence - with Dr. Slop like a running bass all the way.]
'"May he be cursed in eating, in drinking, in being hungry, in being thirsty, in fasting, in sleeping, in walking, in standing, in sitting, in lying, in working, in resting, in pissing, in shitting, and in blood-letting!"
'"May he (Obadiah) be cursed in all the faculties of his body!
'"May he be cursed in the hair of his head! May he be cursed in his brains, in his temples, in his forehead, in his ears, in his eye-brows, in his cheeks, in his jaw-bones, in his nostrils, in his fore-teeth and grinders, in his lips, in his throat, in his shoulders, in his wrists, in his arms, in his hands, in his fingers!
'"May he be damned in his mouth, in his breast, in his heart and stomach!
'"May he be cursed in his groin-"' ['God forbid!' quoth my uncle Toby], '"- in his thighs, in his genitals"' [my father shook his head], '"and in his hips, his knees, his legs, and feet, and toe-nails!
'"May the Son of the living God, with all the glory of his Majesty"'-
[Here my uncle Toby, throwing back his head, gave a monstrous, long, loud Whew - w - w. By the golden beard of Jupiter and Juno and by the beards of the other heathen deities, which by the bye was no small number, what with the beards of your celestial gods, town-gods and country-gods, and celestial goddesses - all of which beards, when counted together, made no less than thirty thousand effective beards in the Pagan establishment - every beard of which claimed the rights of being sworn by - by all these beards together - I vow that of the two bad cassocks I am worth in the world, I would have given the better of them to have been there, and heard my uncle Toby's accompaniment.]
-'"curse him!" continued Dr. Slop, "and may heaven, with all its powers, rise up against him, curse and damn him (Obadiah) unless he repent and make satisfaction! Amen."'
'I declare,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'I could not curse the devil himself so bitterly.'
'But he is cursed, and damned already, to all eternity,' replied Dr. Slop.
'I am sorry for it,' quoth my uncle Toby.
Dr. Slop drew up his mouth, and was just beginning to return my uncle Toby's whistle - when the door hastily opening in the next chapter but one put an end to the affair.


When my father had danced his white bear backwards and forwards through half a dozen pages, he closed the book for good an' all, --and in a kind of triumph redelivered it into _Trim's_ hand, with a nod to lay it upon the 'scrutoire, where he found it. ----_Tristram_, said he, shall be made to conjugate every word in the dictionary, backwards and forwards the same way; ----every word, _Yorick_, by this means, you see, is converted into a thesis or an hypothesis; --every thesis and hypothesis have an offspring of propositions; --and each proposition has its own consequences and conclusions; every one of which leads the mind on again, into fresh tracks of enquiries and doubtings. ----The force of this engine, added my father, is incredible in opening a child's head. ----'Tis enough, brother _Shandy_, cried my uncle _Toby_, to burst it into a thousand splinters.----
I presume, said _Yorick_, smiling, --it must be owing to this, ----(for let logicians say what they will, it is not to be accounted for sufficiently from the bare use of the ten predicaments) ----That the famous _Vincent Quirino_, amongst the many other astonishing feats of his childhood, of which the Cardinal _Bembo_ has given the world so exact a story, --should be able to paste up in the public schools at _Rome_, so early as in the eighth year of his age, no less than four thousand five hundred and fifty different theses, upon the most abstruse points of the most abstruse theology; --and to defend and maintain them in such sort, as to cramp and dumbfound his opponents. ----What is that, cried my father, to what is told us of _Alphonsus Tostatus_, who, almost in his nurse's arms, learned all the sciences and liberal arts without being taught any one of them? ----What shall we say of the great _Piereskius?_ --That's the very man, cried my uncle _Toby_, I once told you of, brother _Shandy_, who walked a matter of five hundred miles, reckoning from _Paris_ to _Shevling_, and from _Shevling_ back again, merely to see _Stevinus's_ flying chariot. ----He was a very great man! added my uncle _Toby_ (meaning _Stevinus_) --He was so, brother _Toby_, said my father (meaning _Piereskius_)----and had multiplied his ideas so fast, and increased his knowledge to such a prodigious stock, that, if we may give credit to an anecdote concerning him, which we cannot withhold here, without shaking the authority of all anecdotes whatever--at seven years of age, his father committed entirely to his care the education of his younger brother, a boy of five years old, --with the sole management of all his concerns. --Was the father as wise as the son? quoth my uncle _Toby_: --I should think not, said _Yorick_: --But what are these, continued my father--(breaking out in a kind of enthusiasm)--what are these, to those prodigies of childhood in _Grotius_, _Scioppius_, _Heinsius_, _Politian_, _Pascal_, _Joseph Scaliger_, _Ferdinand de Cordou_, and others--some of which left off their _substantial forms_ at nine years old, or sooner, and went on reasoning without them; --others went through their classics at seven; --wrote tragedies at eight; --_Ferdinand de Cordou_ was so wise at nine, --'twas thought the Devil was in him; --and at _Venice_ gave such proofs of his knowledge and goodness, that the monks imagined he was _Antichrist_, or nothing. ----Others were masters of fourteen languages at ten, --finished the course of their rhetoric, poetry, logic, and ethics, at eleven, --put forth their commentaries upon _Servius_ and _Martianus Capella_ at twelve, --and at thirteen received their degrees in philosophy, laws, and divinity: ----But you forget the great _Lipsius_, quoth _Yorick_, who composed a work[6.2] the day he was born: ----They should have wiped it up, said my uncle _Toby_, and said no more about it.
[Footnote 6.2: Nous aurions quelque intert, says _Baillet_, de montrer qu'il n'a rien de ridicule s'il toit veritable, au moins dans le sens nigmatique que _Nicius Erythrus_ a tch de lui donner. Cet auteur dit que pour comprendre comme _Lipse_, il a p composer un ouvrage le premier jour de sa vie, il faut s'imaginer, que ce premier jour n'est pas celui de sa naissance charnelle, mais celui au quel il a commenc d'user de la raison; il veut que 'ait t l'ge de _neuf_ ans; et il nous veut persuader que ce fut en cet ge, que _Lipse_ fit un pome. ----Le tour est ingnieux, &c. &c.]

When my father had danced his white bear backwards and forwards through half a dozen pages, he closed the book, and handed it triumphantly to Trim.
'Tristram,' said he, 'shall be made to conjugate every word in the dictionary, backwards and forwards. By this means, you see, Yorick, every word is converted into a thesis or proposition; and each proposition leads the mind on into fresh enquiries. The force of this engine is incredible in opening a child's head.'
''Tis enough, brother Shandy,' cried my uncle Toby, 'to burst it into a thousand splinters.'
'I presume,' said Yorick, smiling, 'it must be owing to this that the famous Vincent Quirino was able, in his eighth year, to paste up in the public schools at Rome no less than four thousand five hundred different theses, upon the most obscure points of theology; and to defend them well enough to dumbfound his opponents.'
'What is that,' cried my father, 'to Alphonsus Tostatus, who, almost in his nurse's arms, learned all the sciences and arts without being taught any one of them? - And what shall we say of the great Piereskius?'
'That's the very man,' cried my uncle Toby, 'who walked five hundred miles from Paris to Shevling and back again, merely to see Stevinus's flying chariot. - He was a very great man!' added my uncle (meaning Stevinus).
'He was,' said my father (meaning Piereskius); 'and increased his knowledge so greatly, that it is said that when he was seven years of age, his father committed entirely to his care the education of his younger brother, a boy of five.'
'Was the father as wise as the son?' quoth my uncle Toby.
'I should think not,' said Yorick.
'But what are these,' continued my father, in a fit of enthusiasm, 'to those prodigies of childhood, Grotius, Scioppius, Heinsius, Pascal, Ferdinand de Cordou, and others? Some went through their classics at seven; others wrote tragedies at eight; Ferdinand de Cordou was so wise at nine, and gave such proofs of his knowledge and goodness, that the monks imagined he was Antichrist. - Others were masters of fourteen languages at ten, finished studying rhetoric, poetry, logic, and ethics, at eleven, wrote commentaries upon Servius at twelve, and at thirteen received their degrees.'
'But you forget the great Lipsius,' quoth Yorick, 'who composed a work* the day he was born.'
'They should have wiped it up,' said my uncle Toby, 'and said no more about it.'
* However, Baillet says that to understand how Lipsius composed a book on the first day of his life, one must imagine, that this first day is not that of his birth, but that on which he began to use reason; this would have been at the age of nine years; and we are persuaded that it was at this age that Lipsius composed a poem.


In the whole catalogue of those whiffling vexations which come puffing across a man's canvass, there is not one of a more teasing and tormenting nature, than this particular one which I am going to describe----and for which (unless you travel with an avance-courier, which numbers do in order to prevent it)----there is no help: and it is this.
That be you in never so kindly a propensity to sleep----tho' you are passing perhaps through the finest country--upon the best roads, and in the easiest carriage for doing it in the world----nay, was you sure you could sleep fifty miles straight forwards, without once opening your eyes--nay, what is more, was you as demonstratively satisfied as you can be of any truth in _Euclid_, that you should upon all accounts be full as well asleep as awake----nay, perhaps better ----Yet the incessant returns of paying for the horses at every stage, ----with the necessity thereupon of putting your hand into your pocket, and counting out from thence three livres fifteen sous (sous by sous), puts an end to so much of the project, that you cannot execute above six miles of it (or supposing it is a post and a half, that is but nine)----were it to save your soul from destruction.
--I'll be even with 'em, quoth I, for I'll put the precise sum into a piece of paper, and hold it ready in my hand all the way: "Now I shall have nothing to do," said I (composing myself to rest), "but to drop this gently into the post-boy's hat, and not say a word." ----Then there wants two sous more to drink----or there is a twelve sous piece of _Louis_ XIV. which will not pass--or a livre and some odd liards to be brought over from the last stage, which Monsieur had forgot; which altercations (as a man cannot dispute very well asleep) rouse him: still is sweet sleep retrievable; and still might the flesh weigh down the spirit, and recover itself of these blows--but then, by heaven! you have paid but for a single post--whereas 'tis a post and a half; and this obliges you to pull out your book of post-roads, the print of which is so very small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you will or no: Then Monsieur _le Cur_ offers you a pinch of snuff----or a poor soldier shews you his leg----or a shaveling his box----or the priestess of the cistern will water your wheels----they do not want it----but she swears by her _priesthood_ (throwing it back) that they do: ----then you have all these points to argue, or consider over in your mind; in doing of which, the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened----you may get 'em to sleep again as you can.
It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes, or I had pass'd clean by the stables of _Chantilly_----
----But the postilion first affirming, and then persisting in it to my face, that there was no mark upon the two sous piece, I open'd my eyes to be convinced--and seeing the mark upon it as plain as my nose --I leap'd out of the chaise in a passion, and so saw everything at _Chantilly_ in spite. ----I tried it but for three posts and a half, but believe 'tis the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; for as few objects look very inviting in that mood--you have little or nothing to stop you; by which means it was that I passed through St. _Dennis_, without turning my head so much as on one side towards the Abby----
----Richness of their treasury! stuff and nonsense! ----bating their jewels, which are all false, I would not give three sous for any one thing in it, but _Jaidas's lantern_----nor for that either, only as it grows dark, it might be of use.

Of all the whiffling vexations which come puffing across a man's canvas, there is not one more teasing and tormenting than this:
That be you never so ready for sleep - tho' you are passing perhaps through the finest country, upon the best roads, and in the easiest carriage in the world - nay, even if you were sure you could sleep for fifty miles, without once opening your eyes - yet the necessity of paying for the horses at every stage - of putting your hand into your pocket, and counting out three livres fifteen sous, puts an end to rest so effectively that you cannot sleep above six miles, to save your soul from destruction.
'I'll be even with 'em,' quoth I, 'for I'll put the precise sum into a piece of paper, and hold it ready in my hand all the way. Now I shall have nothing to do,' said I (composing myself to rest), 'but to drop this gently into the post-boy's hat, and not say a word.'
But then he wants two sous more to drink - or there is an old twelve sous piece which will not pass - or a livre to be brought over from the last stage, which Monsieur had forgot; still sweet sleep is retrievable; and still might the flesh recover from these blows - but then, by heaven! you have paid but for a single post-stage - whereas 'tis a stage and a half; and this obliges you to pull out your book of post-roads, the print of which is so very small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you will or no.
Then Monsieur le Cur offers you a pinch of snuff - or a poor soldier shows you his leg - or a shaveling his box - or the priestess of the cistern will water your wheels, swearing they need it - and in all this, the mind gets so thoroughly awakened, you cannot get it asleep again.
It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes that I did not pass clean by the stables of Chantilly -
- The postilion persisting that the two sous piece was a fake, I opened my eyes, and seeing it to be genuine as plain as my nose - I leaped out of the chaise in a passion, and so saw everything at Chantilly in spite. I tried this for three post-stages and a half, and believe 'tis the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; for as few objects look inviting in that mood, you have little or nothing to stop you. By this means I passed through St. Dennis without so much as turning my head towards the Abbey.
- Richness of their treasury! stuff and nonsense! their jewels are all false. I would not give three sous for anything in it, but Jaidas's lantern - and only because it might be of use in the dark.


The corporal had slipped out about ten minutes before my uncle _Toby_, in order to fix his apparatus, and just give the enemy a shot or two before my uncle _Toby_ came.
He had drawn the six field-pieces for this end, all close up together in front of my uncle _Toby's_ sentry-box, leaving only an interval of about a yard and a half betwixt the three, on the right and left, for the convenience of charging, &c. --and the sake possibly of two batteries, which he might think double the honour of one.
In the rear and facing this opening, with his back to the door of the sentry-box, for fear of being flanked, had the corporal wisely taken his post: ----He held the ivory pipe, appertaining to the battery on the right, betwixt the finger and thumb of his right hand, --and the ebony pipe tipp'd with silver, which appertained to the battery on the left, betwixt the finger and thumb of the other----and with his right knee fixed firm upon the ground, as if in the front rank of his platoon, was the corporal with his Montero-cap upon his head, furiously playing off his two cross batteries at the same time against the counter-guard, which faced the counter-scarp, where the attack was to be made that morning. His first intention, as I said, was no more than giving the enemy a single puff or two; --but the pleasure of the _puffs_, as well as the _puffing_, had insensibly got hold of the corporal, and drawn him on from puff to puff, into the very height of the attack, by the time my uncle _Toby_ joined him.
'Twas well for my father, that my uncle _Toby_ had not his will to make that day.

The corporal had slipped out ten minutes before my uncle Toby, to fix his apparatus, and just give the enemy a shot or two before my uncle came.
He had drawn the six field-pieces all close up together in front of the sentry-box, leaving a gap of about a yard and a half betwixt the three on the right and left, for the convenience of charging, &c., and also possibly to make two batteries, which he might think double the honour of one.
In the rear and facing this gap, with his back to the door of the sentry-box, the corporal had taken his post. He held the ivory pipe, leading to the battery on the right, betwixt the finger and thumb of his right hand, and the ebony pipe, which led to the battery on the left, in his other hand. With his right knee firm upon the ground, as if in the front rank of his platoon, the corporal, with his Montero-cap upon his head, was furiously playing off his two batteries at the same time against the counter-guard, where the attack was to be made that morning.
His first intention, as I said, was no more than giving the enemy a single puff or two; but the pleasure of the puffs, as well as the puffing, had insensibly got hold of the corporal, and had drawn him on from puff to puff, into the very height of the attack, by the time my uncle Toby joined him.
'Twas well for my father, that my uncle Toby was not due to write his will that day.


In mentioning the word _gay_ (as in the close of the last chapter) it puts one (_i.e._ an author) in mind of the word _spleen_----especially if he has anything to say upon it: not that by any analysis--or that from any table of interest or genealogy, there appears much more ground of alliance betwixt them, than betwixt light and darkness, or any two of the most unfriendly opposites in nature----only 'tis an undercraft of authors to keep up a good understanding amongst words, as politicians do amongst men--not knowing how near they may be under a necessity of placing them to each other----which point being now gain'd, and that I may place mine exactly to my mind, I write it down here--
SPLEEN
This, upon leaving _Chantilly_, I declared to be the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; but I gave it only as matter of opinion. I still continue in the same sentiments--only I had not then experience enough of its working to add this, that though you do get on at a tearing rate, yet you get on but uneasily to yourself at the same time; for which reason I here quit it entirely, and for ever, and 'tis heartily at any one's service--it has spoiled me the digestion of a good supper, and brought on a bilious diarrha, which has brought me back again to my first principle on which I set out----and with which I shall now scamper it away to the banks of the _Garonne_--
----No; ----I cannot stop a moment to give you the character of the people--their genius----their manners--their customs--their laws----their religion--their government--their manufactures--their commerce--their finances, with all the resources and hidden springs which sustain them: qualified as I may be, by spending three days and two nights amongst them, and during all that time making these things the entire subject of my enquiries and reflections----
Still--still I must away----the roads are paved--the posts are short--the days are long--'tis no more than noon --I shall be at _Fontainbleau_ before the king----
--Was he going there? not that I know----

In mentioning the word gay (as in the close of the last chapter) it reminds an author of the word spleen: not that there appears to be any more common ground betwixt them, than betwixt light and darkness - only 'tis a craft of authors to keep up a good understanding amongst words, as politicians do amongst men - not knowing how soon they may need to use them together - so I write it down here-
SPLEEN
This, upon leaving Chantilly, I declared to be the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; but that was only my opinion. I still hold the same view - only I had not then enough experience of its working to add that, though you do get on at a tearing rate, yet it makes you uneasy; for which reason I here quit it entirely, and for ever. - It spoiled the digestion of a good supper, and brought on a bilious diarrhoea, which brings me back again to my first principle - with which I shall now scamper away to the banks of the Garonne-
No; - I cannot stop a moment to give you the character of the people - their manners - their customs - their laws - their religion - their commerce: qualified as I may be, by spending three days amongst them-
Still I must away - the roads are paved - the post-stages are short - the days are long - I shall be at Fontainebleau before the king-
Was he going there? not that I know-


Whilst my father was writing his letter of instructions, my uncle _Toby_ and the corporal were busy in preparing everything for the attack. As the turning of the thin scarlet breeches was laid aside (at least for the present), there was nothing which should put it off beyond the next morning; so accordingly it was resolved upon, for eleven o'clock.
Come, my dear, said my father to my mother--'twill be but like a brother and sister, if you and I take a walk down to my brother _Toby's_----to countenance him in this attack of his.
My uncle _Toby_ and the corporal had been accoutred both some time, when my father and mother enter'd, and the clock striking eleven, were that moment in motion to sally forth--but the account of this is worth more than to be wove into the fag end of the eighth[8.7] volume of such a work as this. ----My father had no time but to put the letter of instructions into my uncle _Toby's_ coat-pocket----and join with my mother in wishing his attack prosperous.
I could like, said my mother, to look through the key-hole out of curiosity ----Call it by its right name, my dear, quoth my father--
_And look through the key-hole_ as long as you will.
[Footnote 8.7: Alluding to the first edition.]
THE LIFE AND OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY
GENTLEMAN
Non enim excursus hic ejus, sed opus ipsum est.
PLIN. Lib. v. Epist. 6.
Si quid urbaniuscul lusum a nobis, per Musas et Charitas et omnium potarum Numina, Oro te, ne me mal capias.
A DEDICATION
TO A GREAT MAN
Having, _a priori_, intended to dedicate _The Amours of my Uncle Toby_ to Mr. *** ----I see more reasons, _a posteriori_, for doing it to Lord *******.
I should lament from my soul, if this exposed me to the jealousy of their Reverences; because _a posteriori_, in Court-latin, signifies the kissing hands for preferment--or anything else--in order to get it.
My opinion of Lord ******* is neither better nor worse, than it was of Mr. ***. Honours, like impressions upon coin, may give an ideal and local value to a bit of base metal; but Gold and Silver will pass all the world over without any other recommendation than their own weight.
The same good-will that made me think of offering up half an hour's amusement to Mr. *** when out of place--operates more forcibly at present, as half an hour's amusement will be more serviceable and refreshing after labour and sorrow, than after a philosophical repast.
Nothing is so perfectly _amusement_ as a total change of ideas; no ideas are so totally different as those of Ministers, and innocent Lovers: for which reason, when I come to talk of Statesmen and Patriots, and set such marks upon them as will prevent confusion and mistakes concerning them for the future --I propose to dedicate that Volume to some gentle Shepherd,
Whose thoughts proud Science never taught to stray, Far as the Statesman's walk or Patriot-way; Yet _simple Nature_ to his hopes had given Out of a cloud-capp'd head a humbler heaven; Some _untam'd_ World in depths of wood embraced-- Some happier Island in the watry-waste-- And where admitted to that equal sky, His _faithful Dog_ should bear him company.
In a word, by thus introducing an entire new set of objects to his Imagination, I shall unavoidably give a _Diversion_ to his passionate and love-sick Contemplations. In the meantime,
I am
THE AUTHOR.

Whilst my father was writing his letter of instructions, my uncle Toby and the corporal were busy preparing for the attack. As the turning of the thin scarlet breeches was laid aside, there was no reason to put it off beyond the next morning; so accordingly it was resolved upon for eleven o'clock.
'Come, my dear,' said my father to my mother - ''twill be a brotherly act to walk down to my brother Toby's, to support him in this attack of his.'
When my father and mother entered, my uncle Toby and the corporal were about to sally forth - but the account is worth more than to be wove into the fag end of the eighth volume of such a work as this.
- My father had just time to put the letter of instructions into my uncle Toby's coat-pocket - and join with my mother in wishing his attack prosperous.
'I could like,' said my mother, 'to look through the key-hole out of curiosity.'
'Call it by its right name, my dear,' quoth my father - 'and look through the key-hole as long as you like.'
THE LIFE AND OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY
GENTLEMAN
A DEDICATION
TO A GREAT MAN
Having previously intended to dedicate The Amours of my Uncle Toby to Mr. *** - I see more reasons, a posteriori, for dedicating it to Lord *******.
I should lament if this exposed me to the jealousy of their Reverences, because a posteriori, in Court-Latin, means the kissing of hands - or anything else - in order to get preferment.
My opinion of Lord ******* is neither better nor worse than my opinion of Mr. ***. Honours, like impressions upon coin, may give a local value to base metal; but Gold and Silver will pass all over the world, without any other recommendation than their own weight.
The same good-will that made me think of offering up half an hour's amusement to Mr. *** operates more forcibly at present, as half an hour's amusement will be more refreshing after labour and sorrow, than after a philosophical repast.
Nothing is so amusing as a total change of ideas; no ideas are so totally different as those of Ministers, and innocent Lovers. Therefore, when I come to talk of Statesmen, it will be in such a way as to prevent mistakes about them. - I propose to dedicate that Volume to some gentle Shepherd; (as Pope almost says-)
Whose thoughts proud Science never taught to stray,
Far as the Statesman's walk or Patriot-way;
Yet simple Nature to his hopes had given
Out of a cloud-capp'd head a humbler heaven;
Some untamed World in depths of wood embraced-
Some happier Island in the watery-waste-
And where admitted to that equal sky,
His faithful Dog should bear him company.
In a word, by thus introducing an entire new set of objects to his Imagination, I shall give a Diversion to his love-sick Contemplations. In the meantime,
I am
THE AUTHOR.


When all was set to rights, I came down stairs again into the _basse cour_ with my _valet de place_, in order to sally out towards the tomb of the two lovers, &c. --and was a second time stopp'd at the gate----not by the ass--but by the person who struck him; and who, by that time, had taken possession (as is not uncommon after a defeat) of the very spot of ground where the ass stood.
It was a commissary sent to me from the post-office, with a rescript in his hand for the payment of some six livres odd sous.
Upon what account? said I. ----'Tis upon the part of the king, replied the commissary, heaving up both his shoulders----
----My good friend, quoth I----as sure as I am I--and you are you----
----And who are you? said he. ------Don't puzzle me; said I.

When all was set to rights, I came downstairs again with my valet, in order to go out towards the tomb of the two lovers - and was a second time stopped at the gate - not by the ass - but by the person who struck him; standing on the very spot where the ass had stood.
It was a messenger from the post-office, with a bill in his hand for the payment of some six livres.
'Upon what account?' said I.
''The king's,' replied he with a shrug.
'My good friend,' quoth I, 'as sure as I am I - and you are you-'
'And who are you?' said he.
'Don't puzzle me,' said I.


When _Tom_, an' please your honour, got to the shop, there was nobody in it, but a poor negro girl, with a bunch of white feathers slightly tied to the end of a long cane, flapping away flies--not killing them. ----'Tis a pretty picture! said my uncle _Toby_--she had suffered persecution, _Trim_, and had learnt mercy----
----She was good, an' please your honour, from nature, as well as from hardships; and there are circumstances in the story of that poor friendless slut, that would melt a heart of stone, said _Trim_; and some dismal winter's evening, when your honour is in the humour, they shall be told you with the rest of _Tom's_ story, for it makes a part of it----
Then do not forget, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_.
A negro has a soul? an' please your honour, said the corporal (doubtingly).
I am not much versed, corporal, quoth my uncle _Toby_, in things of that kind; but I suppose, God would not leave him without one, any more than thee or me----
----It would be putting one sadly over the head of another, quoth the corporal.
It would so; said my uncle _Toby_. Why then, an' please your honour, is a black wench to be used worse than a white one?
I can give no reason, said my uncle _Toby_------
----Only, cried the corporal, shaking his head, because she has no one to stand up for her----
----'Tis that very thing, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, ----which recommends her to protection----and her brethren with her; 'tis the fortune of war which has put the whip into our hands _now_----where it may be hereafter, heaven knows! ----but be it where it will, the brave, _Trim!_ will not use it unkindly.
----God forbid, said the corporal.
Amen, responded my uncle _Toby_, laying his hand upon his heart.
The corporal returned to his story, and went on----but with an embarrassment in doing it, which here and there a reader in this world will not be able to comprehend; for by the many sudden transitions all along, from one kind and cordial passion to another, in getting thus far on his way, he had lost the sportable key of his voice, which gave sense and spirit to his tale: he attempted twice to resume it, but could not please himself; so giving a stout hem! to rally back the retreating spirits, and aiding nature at the same time with his left arm a-kimbo on one side, and with his right a little extended, supporting her on the other--the corporal got as near the note as he could; and in that attitude, continued his story.

'When Tom got to the shop, your honour, there was nobody in it but a poor negro girl, with a bunch of white feathers tied to the end of a long cane, flapping away flies - not killing them.'
''Tis a pretty picture!' said my uncle Toby; 'she had suffered persecution, Trim, and had learnt mercy.'
'She was good, and the story of that poor friendless lass would melt a heart of stone,' said Trim. 'Some dismal winter's evening, when your honour is in the mood, I shall tell you it.'
'Do not forget, Trim,' said my uncle Toby.
'Does a negro have a soul?' asked the corporal.
'I am not much versed in things of that kind,' quoth my uncle; 'but I suppose, God would not leave him without one, any more than thee or me.'
'Then why, your honour, is a black wench to be used worse than a white one?'
'I can give no reason,' said my uncle Toby.
'Only,' cried the corporal, 'because she has no one to stand up for her.'
''Tis that very thing, Trim,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'which recommends her and her brethren to our protection; the fortune of war has put the whip into our hands now - where it may be hereafter, heaven knows! but the brave will not use it unkindly.'
'God forbid,' said the corporal; and he returned to his story - but with an embarrassment the reader may not comprehend; for by the many sudden transitions of feeling, he had lost the sportable key of his voice, which gave spirit to his tale.
So giving a stout hem! to rally back the retreating spirits, and placing his left arm akimbo, the corporal continued his story.


----This unfortunate draw-bridge of yours, quoth my father ----God bless your honour, cried _Trim_, 'tis a bridge for master's nose. ----In bringing him into the world with his vile instruments, he has crushed his nose, _Susannah_ says, as flat as a pancake to his face, and he is making a false bridge with a piece of cotton and a thin piece of whalebone out of _Susannah's_ stays, to raise it up.
----Lead me, brother _Toby_, cried my father, to my room this instant.

'This unfortunate draw-bridge of yours-' began my father.
'God bless your honour,' cried Trim, ''tis a bridge for the baby's nose. In bringing him into the world with his vile instruments, he has crushed his nose, Susannah says, as flat as a pancake, and he is making a bridge with cotton and a thin piece of whalebone out of Susannah's corset, to raise it up.'
'Lead me, brother Toby,' cried my father, 'to my room this instant.'


Now don't let us give ourselves a parcel of airs, and pretend that the oaths we make free with in this land of liberty of ours are our own; and because we have the spirit to swear them, ----imagine that we have had the wit to invent them too.
I'll undertake this moment to prove it to any man in the world, except to a connoisseur: ----though I declare I object only to a connoisseur in swearing, ----as I would do to a connoisseur in painting, &c., &c., the whole set of 'em are so hung round and _befetish'd_ with the bobs and trinkets of criticism, ----or to drop my metaphor, which by the bye is a pity, ----for I have fetch'd it as far as from the coast of _Guiney_; --their heads, Sir, are stuck so full of rules and compasses, and have that eternal propensity to apply them upon all occasions, that a work of genius had better go to the devil at once, than stand to be prick'd and tortured to death by 'em.
--And how did _Garrick_ speak the soliloquy last night? --Oh, against all rule, my lord, --most ungrammatically! betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree together in _number_, _case_, and _gender_, he made a breach thus, --stopping, as if the point wanted settling; --and betwixt the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, he suspended his voice in the epilogue a dozen times three seconds and three-fifths by a stop-watch, my lord, each time, --Admirable grammarian! ----But in suspending his voice----was the sense suspended likewise? Did no expression of attitude or countenance fill up the chasm? ----Was the eye silent? Did you narrowly look? ------I look'd only at the stop-watch, my lord. --Excellent observer!
And what of this new book the whole world makes such a rout about? ----Oh! 'tis out of all plumb, my lord, ----quite an irregular thing! --not one of the angles at the four corners was a right angle. --I had my rule and compasses, &c., my lord, in my pocket. --Excellent critick!
----And for the epick poem your lordship bid me look at----upon taking the length, breadth, height, and depth of it, and trying them at home upon an exact scale of _Bossu's_----'tis out, my lord, in every one of its dimensions. --Admirable connoisseur!
----And did you step in, to take a look at the grand picture in your way back? --'Tis a melancholy daub! my lord; not one principle of the _pyramid_ in any one group! ----and what a price! ----for there is nothing of the colouring of _Titian_--the expression of _Rubens_--the grace of _Raphael_--the purity of _Dominichino_--the _corregiescity_ of _Corregio_--the learning of _Poussin_--the airs of _Guido_--the taste of the _Carrachis_--or the grand contour of _Angela_. --Grant me patience, just Heaven! --Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world--though the cant of hypocrites may be the worst----the cant of criticism is the most tormenting!
I would go fifty miles on foot, for I have not a horse worth riding on, to kiss the hand of that man whose generous heart will give up the reins of his imagination into his author's hands----be pleased he knows not why, and cares not wherefore.
Great _Apollo!_ if thou art in a giving humour--give me --I ask no more, but one stroke of native humour, with a single spark of thy own fire along with it----and send _Mercury_, with the _rules and compasses_, if he can be spared, with my compliments to--no matter.
Now to any one else I will undertake to prove, that all the oaths and imprecations which we have been puffing off upon the world for these two hundred and fifty years last past as originals----except St. _Paul's thumb_----_God's flesh and God's fish_, which were oaths monarchical, and, considering who made them, not much amiss; and as kings' oaths, 'tis not much matter whether they were fish or flesh; --else I say, there is not an oath, or at least a curse amongst them, which has not been copied over and over again out of _Ernulphus_ a thousand times: but, like all other copies, how infinitely short of the force and spirit of the original! --It is thought to be no bad oath----and by itself passes very well-- "_G--d damn you._" --Set it beside _Ernulphus's_---- "God Almighty the Father damn you --God the Son damn you --God the Holy Ghost damn you"--you see 'tis nothing. --There is an orientality in his, we cannot rise up to: besides, he is more copious in his invention--possess'd more of the excellencies of a swearer----had such a thorough knowledge of the human frame, its membranes, nerves, ligaments, knittings of the joints, and articulations, ----that when _Ernulphus_ cursed--no part escaped him. --'Tis true there is something of a _hardness_ in his manner----and, as in _Michael Angelo_, a want of _grace_----but then there is such a greatness of _gusto!_
My father, who generally look'd upon everything in a light very different from all mankind, would, after all, never allow this to be an original. ----He considered rather, _Ernulphus's_ anathema, as an institute of swearing, in which, as he suspected, upon the decline of _swearing_ in some milder pontificate, _Ernulphus_, by order of the succeeding pope, had with great learning and diligence collected together all the laws of it; --for the same reason that _Justinian_, in the decline of the empire, had ordered his chancellor _Tribonian_ to collect the _Roman_ or civil laws all together into one code or digest----lest, through the rust of time----and the fatality of all things committed to oral tradition--they should be lost to the world for ever.
For this reason my father would oft-times affirm, there was not an oath, from the great and tremendous oath of _William_ the Conqueror (_By the splendour of God_) down to the lowest oath of a scavenger (_Damn your eyes_) which was not to be found in _Ernulphus_. --In short, he would add --I defy a man to swear _out_ of it.
The hypothesis is, like most of my father's, singular and ingenious too; ----nor have I any objection to it, but that it overturns my own.

Now don't let us give ourselves airs, and pretend that the oaths we use in this land of liberty are our own; don't imagine that because we have the spirit to swear them, we had the wit to invent them too.
I'll undertake to prove it to any man, except to a connoisseur: - though I declare I object to a connoisseur in swearing, as I would do to a connoisseur in painting, the whole set of 'em are so hung round and befetished with the trinkets of criticism, - or to drop my metaphor, which by the bye is a pity - their heads, Sir, are stuck so full of rules, which they apply upon all occasions, that a work of genius had better go to the devil at once, than stay to be pricked and tortured to death by 'em.
'And how did Garrick speak the soliloquy last night?'
'Oh, my lord, most ungrammatically! betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree in number, case, and gender, he made a breach; and betwixt the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, he paused in the epilogue a dozen times, three seconds by a stop-watch, my lord, each time!'
'But was the sense suspended also? Did no expression of face or voice fill up the chasm? Did you look?'
'I looked only at the stop-watch, my lord.'
'Excellent observer! - And what of this new book the whole world makes such a fuss about?'
'Oh! 'tis out of all plumb, my lord, - not one of the four corners was a right angle. And as for the epic poem your lordship bid me look at - upon measuring its length, breadth, height, and depth, 'tis out, my lord, in every one of its dimensions.'
'Admirable connoisseur! And did you take a look at the grand picture on your way?'
''Tis a melancholy daub, my lord! not one principle of the pyramid in any group! - and there is none of the colouring of Titian - the expression of Rubens - the grace of Raphael - or the corregiescity of Corregio.'
Grant me patience, Heaven! Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world, the cant of criticism is the most tormenting! I would walk fifty miles to kiss the hand of the man who will generously give his imagination into his author's hands, and be pleased without caring why!
Great Apollo! - give me one stroke of native humour, with a single spark of thy own fire - and send Mercury, with the rules and compasses, with my compliments to - never mind.
Now I will undertake to prove that all the oaths which we have been puffing off these last two hundred and fifty years as originals - except God's flesh and God's fish, which were oaths monarchical - I say, there is not an oath or curse amongst them, which has not been copied over and over again out of Ernulphus a thousand times: but, like all copies, how infinitely short of the force of the original!
It is thought to be no bad oath to say 'God damn you.' But set it beside Ernulphus's 'God Almighty the Father damn you - God the Son damn you - God the Holy Ghost damn you' - you see 'tis nothing. There is an orientality in his that we cannot rise up to: besides, he had such a thorough knowledge of the human frame, its membranes, nerves, ligaments, and joints, that when Ernulphus cursed, no part escaped him.
- 'Tis true there is something of a hardness in his manner - and, as in Michael Angelo, a lack of grace - but then there is such gusto!
My father considered Ernulphus's work as an institute of swearing. He suspected that Ernulphus, by order of the pope, had with great learning and diligence collected together all the laws of it; for the same reason that the emperor Justinian ordered his chancellor to collect the Roman laws together - lest, through the rust of time, and the fatality of all things committed to oral tradition, they should be lost to the world for ever.
For this reason my father would often affirm that there was not an oath, from the great and tremendous oath of William the Conqueror ('By the splendour of God') down to the lowest oath of a scavenger ('Damn your eyes') which was not to be found in Ernulphus. In short, he would add - 'I defy a man to swear out of it.'
The hypothesis is, like most of my father's, singular and ingenious; nor have I any objection to it, except that it overturns my own.


----And pray, good woman, after all, will you take upon you to say, it may not be the child's hip, as well as the child's head? ------'Tis most certainly the head, replied the midwife. Because, continued Dr. _Slop_ (turning to my father) as positive as these old ladies generally are--'tis a point very difficult to know--and yet of the greatest consequence to be known; ----because, Sir, if the hip is mistaken for the head--there is a possibility (if it is a boy) that the forceps * * * * * *
----What the possibility was, Dr. _Slop_ whispered very low to my father, and then to my uncle _Toby_. ----There is no such danger, continued he, with the head. --No, in truth, quoth my father--but when your possibility has taken place at the hip--you may as well take off the head too.
----It is morally impossible the reader should understand this----'tis enough Dr. _Slop_ understood it; ----so taking the green bays bag in his hand, with the help of _Obadiah's_ pumps, he tripp'd pretty nimbly, for a man of his size, across the room to the door------and from the door was shewn the way, by the good old midwife, to my mother's apartments.

- 'And pray, good woman, would you not say it is as likely to be the child's hip, as the child's head?'
''Tis most certainly the head,' replied the midwife.
'Because,' continued Dr. Slop (turning to my father), 'as positive as these old ladies generally are, 'tis a point very difficult to know - and yet of the greatest importance; because, Sir, if the hip is mistaken for the head - there is a possibility (if it is a boy) that the forceps * * * * * * * * *.'
What the possibility was, Dr. Slop whispered very low to my father, and then to my uncle. 'There is no such danger,' continued he, 'with the head.'
'No, in truth,' quoth my father, 'but when your possibility has taken place at the hip - you may as well take off the head too.'
It is morally impossible the reader should understand this - 'tis enough Dr. Slop understood it; so taking the green baize bag in his hand, he tripped pretty nimbly, for a man of his size, across the room to the door, and was shown the way by the midwife to my mother's apartments.


----"_All is not gain that is got into the purse._" --So that notwithstanding my father had the happiness of reading the oddest books in the universe, and had moreover, in himself, the oddest way of thinking that ever man in it was bless'd with, yet it had this drawback upon him after all------that it laid him open to some of the oddest and most whimsical distresses; of which this particular one, which he sunk under at present, is as strong an example as can be given.
No doubt, the breaking down of the bridge of a child's nose, by the edge of a pair of forceps--however scientifically applied--would vex any man in the world, who was at so much pains in begetting a child, as my father was--yet it will not account for the extravagance of his affliction, nor will it justify the unchristian manner he abandoned and surrendered him self up to.
To explain this, I must leave him upon the bed for half an hour--and my uncle _Toby_ in his old fringed chair sitting beside him.

'All is not gain that is got into the purse.' Although my father had read the oddest books in the universe, and had moreover the oddest way of thinking that ever man was blessed with, yet it had this drawback - that it laid him open to some of the oddest and most whimsical distresses; of which this is as strong an example as can be given.
No doubt, the breaking of the bridge of a child's nose, by a pair of forceps - however scientifically applied - would vex any man; yet it will not account for the extravagance of his affliction, nor will it justify the unchristian manner he surrendered himself up to.
To explain this, I must leave him upon the bed for half an hour - and my uncle Toby in his old fringed chair beside him.


It is natural for a perfect stranger who is going from _London_ to _Edinburgh_, to enquire before he sets out, how many miles to _York_; which is about the half way----nor does anybody wonder, if he goes on and asks about the corporation, &c.--
It was just as natural for Mrs. _Wadman_, whose first husband was all his time afflicted with a Sciatica, to wish to know how far from the hip to the groin; and how far she was likely to suffer more or less in her feelings, in the one case than in the other.
She had accordingly read _Drake's_ anatomy from one end to the other. She had peeped into _Wharton_ upon the brain, and borrowed[9.2] _Graaf_ upon the bones and muscles; but could make nothing of it.
She had reason'd likewise from her own powers----laid down theorems----drawn consequences, and come to no conclusion.
To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor _Slop_, "if poor captain _Shandy_ was ever likely to recover of his wound----?"
----He is recovered, Doctor _Slop_ would say----
What! quite?
Quite: madam----
But what do you mean by a recovery? Mrs. _Wadman_ would say.
Doctor _Slop_ was the worst man alive at definitions; and so Mrs. _Wadman_ could get no knowledge: in short, there was no way to extract it, but from my uncle _Toby_ himself.
There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind which lulls SUSPICION to rest----and I am half persuaded the serpent got pretty near it, in his discourse with Eve; for the propensity in the sex to be deceived could not be so great, that she should have boldness to hold chat with the devil, without it ----But there is an accent of humanity----how shall I describe it? --'tis an accent which covers the part with a garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as particular with it, as your body-surgeon.
"----Was it without remission?--
"----Was it more tolerable in bed?
"----Could he lie on both sides alike with it?
"--Was he able to mount a horse?
"--Was motion bad for it?" _et ctera_, were so tenderly spoke to, and so directed towards my uncle _Toby's_ heart, that every item of them sunk ten times deeper into it than the evils themselves----but when Mrs. _Wadman_ went round about by _Namur_ to get at my uncle _Toby's_ groin; and engaged him to attack the point of the advanced counterscarp, and _ple mle_ with the _Dutch_ to take the counterguard of St. _Roch_ sword in hand--and then with tender notes playing upon his ear, led him all bleeding by the hand out of the trench, wiping her eye, as he was carried to his tent ----Heaven! Earth! Sea! --all was lifted up--the springs of nature rose above their levels--an angel of mercy sat besides him on the sopha--his heart glow'd with fire--and had he been worth a thousand, he had lost every heart of them to Mrs. _Wadman_.
--And whereabouts, dear Sir, quoth Mrs. _Wadman_, a little categorically, did you receive this sad blow? ----In asking this question, Mrs. _Wadman_ gave a slight glance towards the waistband of my uncle _Toby's_ red plush breeches, expecting naturally, as the shortest reply to it, that my uncle _Toby_ would lay his forefinger upon the place ----It fell out otherwise----for my uncle _Toby_ having got his wound before the gate of St. _Nicolas_, in one of the traverses of the trench opposite to the salient angle of the demibastion of St. _Roch_; he could at any time stick a pin upon the identical spot of ground where he was standing when the stone struck him: this struck instantly upon my uncle _Toby's_ sensorium----and with it, struck his large map of the town and citadel of _Namur_ and its environs, which he had purchased and pasted down upon a board, by the corporal's aid, during his long illness----it had lain with other military lumber in the garret ever since, and accordingly the corporal was detached into the garret to fetch it.
My uncle _Toby_ measured off thirty toises, with Mrs. _Wadman's_ scissars, from the returning angle before the gate of St. _Nicolas_; and with such a virgin modesty laid her finger upon the place, that the goddess of Decency, if then in being--if not, 'twas her shade--shook her head, and with a finger wavering across her eyes--forbid her to explain the mistake.
Unhappy Mrs. _Wadman!_
----For nothing can make this chapter go off with spirit but an apostrophe to thee----but my heart tells me, that in such a crisis an apostrophe is but an insult in disguise, and ere I would offer one to a woman in distress--let the chapter go to the devil; provided any damn'd critic _in keeping_ will be but at the trouble to take it with him.
[Footnote 9.2: This must be a mistake in Mr. _Shandy_; for _Graaf_ wrote upon the pancreatick juice, and the parts of generation.]

It is natural for a stranger who is going from London to Edinburgh, to enquire before he sets out, how many miles to York, which is about half way - nor does anybody wonder, if he then asks about the corporation coach, &c.
It was just as natural for Mrs. Wadman, whose first husband was afflicted with a Sciatica, to wish to know how far from the hip to the groin; and how far she was likely to suffer more or less in the one case than in the other.
She had accordingly read all of Drake's anatomy. She had peeped into Wharton upon the brain, and borrowed Graaf upon the bones and muscles; but could make nothing of it.
She had reasoned likewise from her own powers - laid down theorems - and come to no conclusion.
To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor Slop 'if poor captain Shandy was ever likely to recover from his wound?'
'He is recovered,' Doctor Slop would say.
'What! quite?'
'Quite, madam.'
'But what do you mean by a recovery?' Mrs. Wadman would say.
Doctor Slop was the worst man alive at definitions; and so Mrs. Wadman could get no knowledge: in short, there was no way to extract it, but from my uncle Toby himself.
There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind - how shall I describe it? 'tis an accent which covers the part with a garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as particular with it as your surgeon.
'Was it without remission?'
'Was it more tolerable in bed?'
'Could he lie on both sides alike with it?'
'Was he able to mount a horse?'
'Was motion bad for it?' et cetera, were so tenderly spoken, and so directed towards my uncle Toby's heart, that every item of them sunk deep into it - but when Mrs. Wadman went round about by Namur to get at my uncle Toby's groin; and engaged him to attack the point of the advanced counterscarp of Saint Roch, sword in hand - and then with tender notes playing upon his ear, led him all bleeding by the hand out of the trench, wiping her eye, as he was carried to his tent-
Heaven! Earth! Sea! - all was lifted up - an angel of mercy sat beside him on the sofa - his heart glowed with fire - and had he had a thousand hearts, he would have lost them all to Mrs. Wadman.
'And whereabouts, dear Sir,' quoth Mrs. Wadman, 'did you receive this sad blow?' She glanced towards the waistband of my uncle Toby's red plush breeches, expecting naturally, as the shortest reply, that my uncle Toby would lay his forefinger upon the place.
It fell out otherwise - for my uncle Toby having got his wound before the gate of St. Nicolas, in one of the traverses of the trench opposite the salient angle of the demibastion of St. Roch, he could stick a pin upon the exact spot of ground where he was standing when the stone struck him. My uncle immediately thought of his large map of the citadel of Namur and its environs, which he had purchased and pasted down upon a board during his long illness. It had lain with other military lumber in the garret ever since, and accordingly the corporal was sent into the garret to fetch it.
My uncle Toby measured off two hundred feet on the map, with Mrs. Wadman's scissors, from the angle before the gate of St. Nicolas; and with such a virgin modesty laid her finger upon the place, that the goddess of Decency shook her head, and forbade her to explain the mistake.
Unhappy Mrs. Wadman!
- For nothing can make this chapter end with spirit but an apostrophe to thee - but my heart tells me, that in such a crisis, an apostrophe is an insult in disguise, and before I would offer one to a woman in distress - let the chapter go to the devil.