Though in one sense, our family was certainly a simple machine, as it consisted of a few wheels; yet there was thus much to be said for it, that these wheels were set in motion by so many different springs, and acted one upon the other from such a variety of strange principles and impulses----that though it was a simple machine, it had all the honour and advantages of a complex one, ----and a number of as odd movements within it, as ever were beheld in the inside of a _Dutch_ silk-mill.
Amongst these there was one, I am going to speak of, in which, perhaps, it was not altogether so singular, as in many others; and it was this, that whatever motion, debate, harangue, dialogue, project, or dissertation, was going forwards in the parlour, there was generally another at the same time, and upon the same subject, running parallel along with it in the kitchen.
Now to bring this about, whenever an extraordinary message, or letter, was delivered in the parlour--or a discourse suspended till a servant went out--or the lines of discontent were observed to hang upon the brows of my father or mother--or, in short, when anything was supposed to be upon the tapis worth knowing or listening to, 'twas the rule to leave the door, not absolutely shut, but somewhat a-jar--as it stands just now, --which, under covert of the bad hinge (and that possibly might be one of the many reasons why it was never mended), it was not difficult to manage; by which means, in all these cases, a passage was generally left, not indeed as wide as the _Dardanelles_, but wide enough, for all that, to carry on as much of this wind-ward trade, as was sufficient to save my father the trouble of governing his house; --my mother at this moment stands profiting by it. --_Obadiah_ did the same thing, as soon as he had left the letter upon the table which brought the news of my brother's death, so that before my father had well got over his surprise, and entered upon this harangue, --had _Trim_ got upon his legs, to speak his sentiments upon the subject.
A curious observer of nature, had he been worth the inventory of all Job's stock--though by the by, _your curious observers are seldom worth a groat_--would have given the half of it, to have heard Corporal _Trim_ and my father, two orators so contrasted by nature and education, haranguing over the same bier.
My father--a man of deep reading--prompt memory--with _Cato_, and _Seneca_, and _Epictetus_, at his fingers ends.--
The corporal--with nothing--to remember--of no deeper reading than his muster-roll--or greater names at his fingers end, than the contents of it.
The one proceeding from period to period, by metaphor and allusion, and striking the fancy as he went along (as men of wit and fancy do) with the entertainment and pleasantry of his pictures and images.
The other, without wit or antithesis, or point, or turn, this way or that; but leaving the images on one side, and the picture on the other, going straight forwards as nature could lead him, to the heart. O _Trim!_ would to heaven thou had'st a better historian! --would thy historian had a better pair of breeches! ----O ye critics! will nothing melt you?

Though in one sense, our family was a simple machine, consisting of only a few wheels; yet these wheels were set in motion by so many different springs, and such a variety of strange principles and impulses - that although it was a simple machine, it had all the appearance of a complex one, with as many odd movements within it as ever were beheld in the inside of a Dutch silk-mill.
Amongst them was this effect: that whatever debate or dialogue was going on in the parlour, there was generally another at the same time, and upon the same subject, running parallel along with it in the kitchen.
Now to bring this about, whenever an extraordinary message or letter was delivered in the parlour - or my mother or father were observed by the servants to be arguing or discontented - in short, when there was anything worth knowing or listening to, 'twas the rule to leave the door not absolutely shut, but somewhat ajar - as it stands just now - which, under cover of the bad hinge (and that might be one of the many reasons why it was never mended) was not difficult to manage.
My mother at this moment stands profiting by this gap. - Obadiah did the same thing, as soon as he had left the letter with the news of my brother's death; so that before my father had got over his surprise, and begun his speech, Trim in the kitchen had stood up to speak his sentiments on the subject.
A curious observer would have given a great deal to have heard Corporal Trim and my father, two orators so contrasted by nature and education, haranguing over the same bier.
My father - a man of deep reading and prompt memory - with Cato and Seneca at his fingers' ends.
The corporal - with no deeper reading than his muster-roll.
The one proceeding from metaphor to allusion, and striking the fancy as he went along with the pleasantry of his images.
The other, without wit or antithesis, leaving the images aside, and going straight to the heart. O Trim! would to heaven thou had'st a better historian! - O ye critics! will nothing melt you?


I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.
I had three several times loiter'd _terribly_ behind; half a mile at least every time; once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, who was making drums for the fairs of _Baucaira_ and _Tarascone_ --I did not understand the principles----
The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd----for meeting a couple of _Franciscans_ straitened more for time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about ----I had turn'd back with them----
The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand-basket of _Provence_ figs for four sous; this would have been transacted at once; but for a case of conscience at the close of it; for when the figs were paid for, it turn'd out, that there were two dozen of eggs cover'd over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket--as I had no intention of buying eggs --I made no sort of claim of them--as for the space they had occupied--what signified it? I had figs enow for my money----
--But it was my intention to have the basket--it was the gossip's intention to keep it, without which, she could do nothing with her eggs----and unless I had the basket, I could do as little with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short contention, which terminated in sundry proposals, what we should both do----
----How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you, or the Devil himself, had he not been there (which I am persuaded he was), to form the least probable conjecture: You will read the whole of it------not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle _Toby's_ amours--but you will read it in the collection of those which have arose out of the journey across this plain--and which, therefore, I call my
PLAIN STORIES.
How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a track--the world must judge--but the traces of it, which are now all set o' vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no convention with my man with the gun, as to time--by stopping and talking to every soul I met, who was not in a full trot--joining all parties before me--waiting for every soul behind--hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads--arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars----not passing by a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff ------In short, by seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held out to me in this journey --I turned my _plain_ into a _city_ --I was always in company, and with great variety too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he met --I am confident we could have passed through _Pall-Mall_, or St. _James's_-Street for a month together, with fewer adventures--and seen less of human nature.
O! there is that sprightly frankness, which at once unpins every plait of a _Languedocian's_ dress--that whatever is beneath it, it looks so like the simplicity which poets sing of in better days --I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so.
'Twas in the road betwixt _Nismes_ and _Lunel_, where there is the best _Muscatto_ wine in all _France_, and which by the bye belongs to the honest canons of MONTPELLIER--and foul befal the man who has drank it at their table, who grudges them a drop of it.
----The sun was set--they had done their work; the nymphs had tied up their hair afresh--and the swains were preparing for a carousal----my mule made a dead point----'Tis the fife and tabourin, said I ----I'm frighten'd to death, quoth he ----They are running at the ring of pleasure, said I, giving him a prick ----By saint _Boogar_, and all the saints at the backside of the door of purgatory, said he--(making the same resolution with the abbesse of _Andoillets_) I'll not go a step further------'Tis very well, sir, said I ----I never will argue a point with one of your family, as long as I live; so leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot into this ditch, and t'other into that --I'll take a dance, said I--so stay you here.
A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the groupe to meet me, as I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chesnut approaching rather to a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a single tress.
We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as if to offer them --And a cavalier ye shall have; said I, taking hold of both of them.
Hadst thou, _Nannette_, been array'd like a dutchesse!
----But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!
_Nannette_ cared not for it.
We could not have done without you, said she, letting go one hand, with self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.
A lame youth, whom _Apollo_ had recompensed with a pipe, and to which he had added a tabourin of his own accord, ran sweetly over the prelude, as he sat upon the bank ----Tie me up this tress instantly, said _Nannette_, putting a piece of string into my hand --It taught me to forget I was a stranger ----The whole knot fell down ----We had been seven years acquainted.
The youth struck the note upon the tabourin--his pipe followed, and off we bounded---- "the duce take that slit!"
The sister of the youth, who had stolen her voice from heaven, sung alternately with her brother----'twas a _Gascoigne_ roundelay.
VIVA LA JOIA! FIDON LA TRISTESSA!
The nymphs join'd in unison, and their swains an octave below them----
I would have given a crown to have it sew'd up--_Nannette_ would not have given a SOUS--_Viva la joia!_ was in her lips--_Viva la joia!_ was in her eyes. A transient spark of amity shot across the space betwixt us ----She look'd amiable! ----Why could I not live, and end my days thus? Just Disposer of our joys and sorrows, cried I, why could not a man sit down in the lap of content here----and dance, and sing, and say his prayers, and go to heaven with this nut-brown maid? Capriciously did she bend her head on one side, and dance up insidious ----Then 'tis time to dance off, quoth I; so changing only partners and tunes, I danced it away from _Lunel_ to _Montpellier_----from thence to _Pesnas_, _Beziers_ ----I danced it along through _Narbonne_, _Carcasson_, and _Castle Naudairy_, till at last I danced myself into _Perdrillo's_ pavillion, where pulling out a paper of black lines, that I might go on straight forwards, without digression or parenthesis, in my uncle _Toby's_ amours----
I begun thus----

I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.
I had three times loitered terribly behind, half a mile at least every time; once, talking to a drum-maker - I did not understand his craft-
The second time, I met a couple of Franciscans more short of time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about - I had turned back with them-
The third time was to trade with a gossip, a basket of Provence figs for four sous; but when the figs were paid for, it turned out that there were two dozen eggs covered with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket. I had no intention of buying eggs-
But I wanted the basket - and the gossip wanted to keep it, or she could do nothing with her eggs - and without it I could do nothing with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short argument, which ended in different proposals about what we should both do.
- How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you to guess. You will read the whole of it - not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle Toby's amours - but you will read it in the collection of stories which arose out of the journey across this plain - and which, therefore, I call my
PLAIN STORIES.
How fatigued my pen has been in this journey over so barren a track, the world must judge - but the traces of it, which are all vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no agreement with my man with the gun, as to time - by stopping and talking to every soul I met - joining all parties before me - waiting for everyone behind - hailing all kinds of pilgrims, fiddlers and friars - not passing a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff-
In short, by seizing every handle which chance held out to me in this journey, I turned my plain into a city. - I was always in company, and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals to offer to every beast he met - I am confident we could have passed through London for a month with fewer adventures.
O! there is that sprightly frankness in the Languedocians that looks like the simplicity which poets sing of in better days. - I will delude my fancy, and believe it is so.
'Twas in the road betwixt Nismes and Lunel, where there is the best Muscatto wine in France.
The sun was set - work was finished; the nymphs had tied up their hair - the men were preparing for a carousal - my mule stopped dead.
''Tis the fife and tambourine,' said I.
'I'm frightened to death,' quoth he. 'By saint Boogar, I'll not go a step further.'
'Very well, sir,' said I, leaping off his back, and kicking off my boots. 'I'll take a dance, - so stay you here.'
A sun-burnt daughter of Labour rose up from the group to meet me as I advanced; her chestnut hair was tied up in a knot, but for a single tress.
'We want a cavalier,' said she, holding out her hands.
'And a cavalier ye shall have,' said I, taking them.
Hadst thou only, Nannette, been dressed like a duchess! - But that cursed slit in thy petticoat!
Nannette cared not for it. She led me up by the hand.
A lame youth with a pipe and a tambourine ran sweetly over the prelude, as he sat upon the bank.
'Tie me up this tress of hair,' said Nannette, putting a piece of string into my hand . - I forgot I was a stranger. - The knot fell down - we had been seven years acquainted.
The youth played - and off we bounded.
The youth's sister sang like an angel - 'twas a Gascoigne roundelay.
VIVA LA JOIA!
FIDON LA TRISTESSA!
The nymphs joined in, and their swains an octave below them.
'Viva la joia!' was on Nanette's lips - and in her eyes. A spark of amity shot across the space betwixt us.
Why could I not live and end my days thus? why could not a man sit down in the lap of content here - and dance, and sing, and say his prayers, and go to heaven with this nut-brown maid?
''Tis time to dance off,' quoth I; so changing partners and tunes, I danced it away from Lunel to Montpellier - from thence to Beziers - through Narbonne and Carcasson, till at last I danced myself into Perdrillo's pavilion, where pulling out a lined paper, so that I might go straight on, without digression, to my uncle Toby's amours-
I began thus-


I told the Christian reader in the beginning of the chapter which preceded my uncle _Toby's_ apologetical oration, --though in a different trope from what I should make use of now, That the peace of _Utrecht_ was within an ace of creating the same shyness betwixt my uncle _Toby_ and his hobby-horse, as it did betwixt the queen and the rest of the confederating powers.
There is an indignant way in which a man sometimes dismounts his horse, which as good as says to him, "I'll go afoot, Sir, all the days of my life, before I would ride a single mile upon your back again." Now my uncle _Toby_ could not be said to dismount his horse in this manner; for in strictness of language, he could not be said to dismount his horse at all----his horse rather flung him----and somewhat _viciously_, which made my uncle _Toby_ take it ten times more unkindly. Let this matter be settled by state-jockies as they like. ----It created, I say, a sort of shyness betwixt my uncle _Toby_ and his hobby-horse. ----He had no occasion for him from the month of _March_ to _November_, which was the summer after the articles were signed, except it was now and then to take a short ride out, just to see that the fortifications and harbour of _Dunkirk_ were demolished, according to stipulation.
The _French_ were so backwards all that summer in setting about that affair, and Monsieur _Tugghe_, the Deputy from the magistrates of _Dunkirk_, presented so many affecting petitions to the queen, --beseeching her majesty to cause only her thunder-bolts to fall upon the martial works, which might have incurred her displeasure, --but to spare--to spare the mole, for the mole's sake; which, in its naked situation, could be no more than an object of pity----and the queen (who was but a woman) being of a pitiful disposition, --and her ministers also, they not wishing in their hearts to have the town dismantled, for these private reasons, * * * * * * * * * * * ----
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ; so that the whole went heavily on with my uncle _Toby_; insomuch, that it was not within three full months, after he and the corporal had constructed the town, and put it in a condition to be destroyed, that the several commandants, commissaries, deputies, negociators, and intendants, would permit him to set about it. ----Fatal interval of inactivity!
The corporal was for beginning the demolition, by making a breach in the ramparts, or main fortifications of the town ----No, --that will never do, corporal, said my uncle _Toby_, for in going that way to work with the town, the _English_ garrison will not be safe in it an hour; because if the _French_ are treacherous ----They are as treacherous as devils, an' please your honour, said the corporal ----It gives me concern always when I hear it, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, --for they don't want personal bravery; and if a breach is made in the ramparts, they may enter it, and make themselves masters of the place when they please: ----Let them enter it, said the corporal, lifting up his pioneer's spade in both his hands, as if he was going to lay about him with it, --let them enter, an' please your honour, if they dare. ----In cases like this, corporal, said my uncle _Toby_, slipping his right hand down to the middle of his cane, and holding it afterwards truncheon-wise with his forefinger extended, ----'tis no part of the consideration of a commandant, what the enemy dare, --or what they dare not do; he must act with prudence. We will begin with the outworks both towards the sea and the land, and particularly with fort _Louis_, the most distant of them all, and demolish it first, --and the rest, one by one, both on our right and left, as we retreat towards the town; ----then we'll demolish the mole, --next fill up the harbour, --then retire into the citadel, and blow it up into the air: and having done that, corporal, we'll embark for _England_. ----We are there, quoth the corporal, recollecting himself ----Very true, said my uncle _Toby_--looking at the church.

I told the Christian reader in the beginning of the chapter which preceded my uncle Toby's apologetical oration, that the peace of Utrecht almost parted my uncle Toby from his hobby-horse.
There is an indignant way in which a man sometimes dismounts his horse, which as good as says, 'I'll go afoot all my life, before I would ride a single mile upon your back again.'
Now my uncle Toby could not be said to dismount his horse in this manner, or indeed, at all - rather, his horse flung him - and somewhat viciously. It created a sort of shyness betwixt my uncle Toby and his hobby-horse. He had no use for him from March to November, except now and then to take a short ride out, just to see that the fortifications and harbour of Dunkirk were correctly demolished.
The French were so backwards all that summer in setting about it, and Monsieur Tugghe, the Deputy at Dunkirk, presented so many affecting petitions to the queen, beseeching her to cause her thunder-bolts to fall only upon the martial works; and the queen having pity, and her ministers not wishing to have the town dismantled, for these private reasons, * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * - it was three full months after my uncle Toby and the corporal had constructed the town, ready to be destroyed, that the commandants, deputies and negotiators would permit him to do so.
-Fatal inactivity!
The corporal was all for beginning the demolition, by making a breach in the ramparts.
'No, that will never do,' said my uncle Toby, 'for then the English garrison will not be safe an hour; because if the French are treacherous-'
'They are as treacherous as devils, your honour,' said the corporal.
'It gives me concern to hear it, Trim,' said my uncle Toby, 'for they don't lack personal bravery; and if a breach is made in the ramparts, they may enter it, and make themselves masters of the place.'
'Let them enter, if they dare,' said the corporal, brandishing his spade.
'In cases like this, corporal,' said my uncle Toby, 'a commandant must act with prudence. We will begin with the outworks towards the sea and the land, and demolish the most distant, Fort Louis, first - and the rest, one by one, as we retreat towards the town; then we'll fill up the harbour - retire into the citadel, and blow it up: and then, corporal, we'll embark for England.'
'We are there,' quoth the corporal, recollecting himself.
'Very true,' said my uncle Toby, looking at the church.


The whole secret of health, said my father, beginning the sentence again, depending evidently upon the due contention betwixt the radical heat and radical moisture within us; --the least imaginable skill had been sufficient to have maintained it, had not the schoolmen confounded the talk, merely (as _Van Helmont_, the famous chymist, has proved) by all along mistaking the radical moisture for the tallow and fat of animal bodies.
Now the radical moisture is not the tallow or fat of animals, but an oily and balsamous substance; for the fat and tallow, as also the phlegm or watery parts, are cold; whereas the oily and balsamous parts are of a lively heat and spirit, which accounts for the observation of _Aristotle_, "_Quod omne animal post coitum est _triste_._"
Now it is certain, that the radical heat lives in the radical moisture, but whether _vice vers_, is a doubt: however, when the one decays, the other decays also; and then is produced, either an unnatural heat, which causes an unnatural dryness----or an unnatural moisture, which causes dropsies. ----So that if a child, as he grows up, can but be taught to avoid running into fire or water, as either of 'em threaten his destruction, ----'twill be all that is needful to be done upon that head.----

'The whole secret of health,' said my father, beginning the sentence again, 'depends upon the contention betwixt the radical heat and radical moisture within us; hardly any skill would be needed to maintain it, if only the schoolmen had not confused matters (as Van Helmont, the famous chemist, has proved) by mistaking the radical moisture for the fat of animal bodies.
'Now the radical moisture is not the fat of animals, but an oily and balsamous substance; for the fat is cold; whereas the oily and balsamous parts are of a lively heat and spirit, which accounts for the observation of Aristotle, "Quod omne animal post coitum est triste."
'Now it is certain that the radical heat lives in the radical moisture, but whether vice versa, is a doubt. However, when the one decays, the other decays also; causing either an unnatural heat and dryness - or an unnatural moisture, leading to dropsies. So that if a child, as he grows up, can be taught to avoid running into fire or water, as either of 'em threaten his destruction, 'twill be all that needs to be done on that account.'


Was I in a condition to stipulate with Death, as I am this moment with my apothecary, how and where I will take his clyster ----I should certainly declare against submitting to it before my friends; and therefore I never seriously think upon the mode and manner of this great catastrophe, which generally takes up and torments my thoughts as much as the catastrophe itself; but I constantly draw the curtain across it with this wish, that the Disposer of all things may so order it, that it happen not to me in my own house----but rather in some decent inn----at home, I know it, ----the concern of my friends, and the last services of wiping my brows, and smoothing my pillow, which the quivering hand of pale affection shall pay me, will so crucify my soul; that I shall die of a distemper which my physician is not aware of: but in an inn, the few cold offices I wanted, would be purchased with a few guineas, and paid me with an undisturbed, but punctual attention----but mark. This inn should not be the inn at _Abbeville_----if there was not another inn in the universe, I would strike that inn out of the capitulation: so
Let the horses be in the chaise exactly by four in the morning ----Yes, by four, Sir, ----or by _Genevieve!_ I'll raise a clatter in the house shall wake the dead.

If I could tell Death, like my apothecary, how and where I will take his purge - I should certainly refuse to submit to it before my friends. Therefore I never seriously think upon the manner of this great catastrophe, which torments my thoughts as much as the catastrophe itself; but I constantly draw the curtain across it with this wish, that God may let it happen to me not in my own house - but rather in some decent inn. At home, I know, the concern of my friends, wiping my brows and smoothing my pillow, will crucify my soul; but in an inn, the few cold services I wanted would be purchased with a few guineas, and provided with an undisturbed, but punctual attention.
- But mark. This inn should not be the inn at Abbeville, even if there was no other inn in the universe.
Let the horses be ready by four in the morning - Yes, by four, Sir! or I'll raise a clatter in the house shall wake the dead.


Now, for what the world thinks of that ejaculation ----I would not give a groat.

Now, for what the world thinks of that ejaculation - I would not give a penny.


When the misfortune of my NOSE fell so heavily upon my father's head; --the reader remembers that he walked instantly up stairs, and cast himself down upon his bed; and from hence, unless he has a great insight into human nature, he will be apt to expect a rotation of the same ascending and descending movements from him, upon his misfortune of my NAME; ----no.
The different weight, dear Sir----nay even the different package of two vexations of the same weight----makes a very wide difference in our manner of bearing and getting through with them. ----It is not half an hour ago, when (in the great hurry and precipitation of a poor devil's writing for daily bread) I threw a fair sheet, which I had just finished, and carefully wrote out, slap into the fire, instead of the foul one.
Instantly I snatch'd off my wig, and threw it perpendicularly, with all imaginable violence, up to the top of the room--indeed I caught it as it fell----but there was an end of the matter; nor do I think anything else in _Nature_ would have given such immediate ease: She, dear Goddess, by an instantaneous impulse, in all _provoking cases_, determines us to a sally of this or that member--or else she thrusts us into this or that place or posture of body, we know not why ----But mark, madam, we live amongst riddles and mysteries----the most obvious things, which come in our way, have dark sides, which the quickest sight cannot penetrate into; and even the clearest and most exalted understandings amongst us find ourselves puzzled and at a loss in almost every cranny of nature's works: so that this, like a thousand other things, falls out for us in a way, which tho' we cannot reason upon it--yet we find the good of it, may it please your reverences and your worships----and that's enough for us.
Now, my father could not lie down with this affliction for his life----nor could he carry it up stairs like the other--he walked composedly out with it to the fish-pond.
Had my father leaned his head upon his hand, and reasoned an hour which way to have gone------reason, with all her force, could not have directed him to anything like it: there is something, Sir, in fish-ponds----but what it is, I leave to system-builders and fish-pond-diggers betwixt 'em to find out--but there is something, under the first disorderly transport of the humours, so unaccountably becalming in an orderly and a sober walk towards one of them, that I have often wondered that neither _Pythagoras_, nor _Plato_, nor _Solon_, nor _Lycurgus_, nor _Mahomet_, nor any one of your noted lawgivers, ever gave order about them.

When the misfortune of my Nose fell so heavily upon my father - the reader remembers that he walked upstairs, and cast himself upon his bed; and hence will expect the same movements from him, upon his misfortune of my Name: - no.
The different weight, dear Sir - nay, even the different packaging of two vexations of the same weight - makes a very wide difference in our manner of bearing them. Only half an hour ago, in my hurry, I threw a fair page which I had just finished writing out, slap into the fire, instead of the foul one.
Instantly I snatched off my wig, and threw it with all my force up to the ceiling - indeed I caught it as it fell - but there was an end of the matter. I do not think anything else in Nature would have given such immediate ease. She, dear Goddess, in provoking cases, thrusts us into this or that posture, we know not why - but we live amongst riddles and mysteries; though we cannot reason upon it - yet we benefit from it - and that's enough.
Now, my father could not lie down with this affliction - nor could he carry it upstairs like the other. He walked composedly out with it to the fish-pond.
Had my father leaned his head upon his hand, and reasoned an hour which way to go, reason would not have directed him there: but there is something, Sir, so unaccountably becalming in an orderly and sober walk towards a fish-pond, that I have often wondered that neither Pythagoras, nor Plato, nor Solon, nor Lycurgus, nor Mahomet, nor any of your noted lawgivers, ever gave orders about them.


I have begun a new book, on purpose that I might have room enough to explain the nature of the perplexities in which my uncle _Toby_ was involved, from the many discourses and interrogations about the siege of _Namur_, where he received his wound.
I must remind the reader, in case he has read the history of King _William's_ wars, --but if he has not, --I then inform him, that one of the most memorable attacks in that siege, was that which was made by the _English_ and _Dutch_ upon the point of the advanced counterscarp, between the gate of _St. Nicolas_, which inclosed the great sluice or water-stop, where the _English_ were terribly exposed to the shot of the counter-guard and demi-bastion of _St. Roch_. The issue of which hot dispute, in three words, was this; That the _Dutch_ lodged themselves upon the counter-guard, --and that the _English_ made themselves masters of the covered-way before _St. Nicolas_-gate, notwithstanding the gallantry of the _French_ officers, who exposed themselves upon the glacis sword in hand.
As this was the principal attack of which my uncle _Toby_ was an eye-witness at _Namur_, ----the army of the besiegers being cut off, by the confluence of the _Maes_ and _Sambre_, from seeing much of each other's operations, ----my uncle _Toby_ was generally more eloquent and particular in his account of it; and the many perplexities he was in, arose out of the almost insurmountable difficulties he found in telling his story intelligibly, and giving such clear ideas of the differences and distinctions between the scarp and counter-scarp, --the glacis and covered-way, --the half-moon and ravelin, --as to make his company fully comprehend where and what he was about.
Writers themselves are too apt to confound these terms; so that you will the less wonder, if in his endeavours to explain them, and in opposition to many misconceptions, that my uncle _Toby_ did oft-times puzzle his visitors, and sometimes himself too.
To speak the truth, unless the company my father led upstairs were tolerably clear-headed, or my uncle _Toby_ was in one of his explanatory moods, 'twas a difficult thing, do what he could, to keep the discourse free from obscurity.
What rendered the account of this affair the more intricate to my uncle _Toby_, was this, --that in the attack of the counterscarp, before the gate of _St. Nicolas_, extending itself from the bank of the _Maes_, quite up to the great water-stop, --the ground was cut and cross cut with such a multitude of dykes, drains, rivulets, and sluices, on all sides, --and he would get so sadly bewildered, and set fast amongst them, that frequently he could neither get backwards or forwards to save his life; and was oft-times obliged to give up the attack upon that very account only.
These perplexing rebuffs gave my uncle _Toby Shandy_ more perturbations than you would imagine: and as my father's kindness to him was continually dragging up fresh friends and fresh enquirers, ----he had but a very uneasy task of it.
No doubt my uncle _Toby_ had great command of himself, could guard appearances, I believe, as well as most men; --yet any one may imagine, that when he could not retreat out of the ravelin without getting into the half-moon, or get out of the covered-way without falling down the counterscarp, nor cross the dyke without danger of slipping into the ditch, but that he must have fretted and fumed inwardly: --He did so; and the little and hourly vexations, which may seem trifling and of no account to the man who has not read _Hippocrates_, yet, whoever has read _Hippocrates_, or Dr. _James Mackenzie_, and has considered well the effects which the passions and affections of the mind have upon the digestion--(Why not of a wound as well as of a dinner?)--may easily conceive what sharp paroxysms and exacerbations of his wound my uncle _Toby_ must have undergone upon that score only.
--My uncle _Toby_ could not philosophize upon it; --'twas enough he felt it was so, --and having sustained the pain and sorrows of it for three months together, he was resolved some way or other to extricate himself.
He was one morning lying upon his back in his bed, the anguish and nature of the wound upon his groin suffering him to lie in no other position, when a thought came into his head, that if he could purchase such a thing, and have it pasted down upon a board, as a large map of the fortification of the town and citadel of _Namur_, with its environs, it might be a means of giving him ease. --I take notice of his desire to have the environs along with the town and citadel, for this reason, --because my uncle _Toby's_ wound was got in one of the traverses, about thirty toises from the returning angle of the trench, opposite to the salient angle of the demi-bastion of _St. Roch_: ----so that he was pretty confident he could stick a pin upon the identical spot of ground where he was standing on when the stone struck him.
All this succeeded to his wishes, and not only freed him from a world of sad explanations, but, in the end, it proved the happy means, as you will read, of procuring my uncle _Toby_ his HOBBY-HORSE.

I have begun a new book, so that I might have room enough to explain the perplexities in which my uncle Toby was involved, from the many questions about the siege of Namur, where he received his wound.
I must remind the reader, if he has read the history of King William's wars, that one of the most memorable attacks in that siege was made by the English and Dutch upon the point of the counterscarp, at the gate of St. Nicolas, which enclosed the great sluice where the English were terribly exposed to the shot of the counter-guard of St. Roch. The result of that dispute, in three words, was this: that the Dutch lodged themselves upon the counter-guard, and that the English held the covered-way before St. Nicolas-gate, notwithstanding the gallantry of the French officers on the glacis.
As my uncle Toby was an eye-witness at Namur, he was generally eloquent in his account of it; and the many perplexities he was in, arose out of the difficulties he found in making clear the differences between the scarp and counter-scarp, the glacis and covered-way, and the half-moon and ravelin, so that his company would fully comprehend where and what he was about.
In trying to explain these terms, my uncle Toby did oft-times puzzle his visitors, and sometimes himself too.
To speak the truth, unless the company my father led upstairs were very clear-headed, or my uncle Toby was in one of his explanatory moods, 'twas difficult to keep the discourse free from obscurity.
What especially perplexed my uncle Toby was this: that in the attack of the counterscarp, before the gate of St. Nicolas, extending from the bank of the Maes up to the water-stop, the ground was cut across with such a multitude of dykes, drains, rivulets, and sluices, - and he would get so bewildered amongst them, that frequently he could neither go backwards or forwards; and was obliged to give up the attack on that account.
This perturbed my uncle Toby more than you would imagine: and as my father's kindness was continually dragging up fresh enquirers, he had a very uneasy time. When he could not retreat out of the ravelin without getting into the half-moon, or get out of the covered-way without falling down the counterscarp, nor cross the dyke without slipping into the ditch, he must have fretted inwardly.
These little vexations, which may seem trifling to the man who has not read Hippocrates, - yet whoever has read Hippocrates or Dr. James Mackenzie, and has considered well the effects which the passions have upon the digestion - (Why not of a wound as well as of a dinner?) - may easily conceive what sharp paroxysms of his wound my uncle Toby must have undergone.
Having borne the pain of it for three months together, he resolved to extricate himself.
He was one morning lying upon his back in his bed, the wound upon his groin allowing him to lie in no other position, when a thought came into his head, that if he could have pasted upon a board a large map of the citadel of Namur and its environs, it might be a means of giving him ease. I note his desire to have the environs along with the citadel, because my uncle Toby's wound was got in one of the traverses, about a hundred yards from the angle of the trench opposite the demi-bastion of St. Roch: - so that he was pretty confident he could stick a pin upon the identical spot of ground where the stone struck him.
All this was fulfilled, and not only freed him from a world of sad explanations, but proved the happy means, as you will read, of providing my uncle Toby with his Hobby-Horse.


I am a _Turk_ if I had not as much forgot my mother, as if Nature had plaistered me up, and set me down naked upon the banks of the river _Nile_, without one. ----Your most obedient servant, Madam --I've cost you a great deal of trouble, --I wish it may answer; --but you have left a crack in my back, --and here's a great piece fallen off here before, --and what must I do with this foot? ----I shall never reach _England_ with it.
For my own part, I never wonder at any thing; --and so often has my judgment deceived me in my life, that I always suspect it, right or wrong, --at least I am seldom hot upon cold subjects. For all this, I reverence truth as much as any body; and when it has slipped us, if a man will but take me by the hand, and go quietly and search for it, as for a thing we have both lost, and can neither of us do well without, --I'll go to the world's end with him: ----But I hate disputes, --and therefore (bating religious points, or such as touch society) I would almost subscribe to any thing which does not choak me in the first passage, rather than be drawn into one. ----But I cannot bear suffocation, ----and bad smells worst of all. ----For which reasons, I resolved from the beginning, That if ever the army of martyrs was to be augmented, --or a new one raised, --I would have no hand in it, one way or t'other.

I am a Turk if I had not forgot my mother! I don't wonder at it; so often has my judgment deceived me, that I always suspect it, right or wrong.
For all this, I respect truth as much as anybody; and when it has slipped away from us, if a man will but take me by the hand, and go quietly to search for it, as for a thing we have both lost, I'll go to the world's end with him.
But I hate disputes, and therefore (apart from religious points, or those concerning society) I would almost agree to anything that does not choke me, rather than be drawn into one.
Yet I cannot bear suffocation - and bad smells worst of all. For which reasons, I have resolved that if ever the army of martyrs was to be increased, I would have no hand in it, one way or t'other.


If anything in this world, which my father said, could have provoked my uncle _Toby_, during the time he was in love, it was the perverse use my father was always making of an expression of _Hilarion_ the hermit; who, in speaking of his abstinence, his watchings, flagellations, and other instrumental parts of his religion--would say--tho' with more facetiousness than became an hermit-- "That they were the means he used, to make his _ass_ (meaning his body) leave off kicking."
It pleased my father well; it was not only a laconick way of expressing----but of libelling, at the same time, the desires and appetites of the lower part of us; so that for many years of my father's life, 'twas his constant mode of expression--he never used the word _passions_ once--but _ass_ always instead of them ----So that he might be said truly, to have been upon the bones, or the back of his own ass, or else of some other man's, during all that time.
I must here observe to you the difference betwixt
My father's ass and my hobby-horse--in order to keep characters as separate as may be, in our fancies as we go along.
For my hobby-horse, if you recollect a little, is no way a vicious beast; he has scarce one hair or lineament of the ass about him----'Tis the sporting little filly-folly which carries you out for the present hour--a maggot, a butterfly, a picture, a fiddlestick--an uncle _Toby's_ siege--or an _anything_, which a man makes a shift to get a-stride on, to canter it away from the cares and solicitudes of life--'Tis as useful a beast as is in the whole creation--nor do I really see how the world would do without it----
----But for my father's ass------oh! mount him--mount him--mount him--(that's three times, is it not?)--mount him not: --'tis a beast concupiscent--and foul befal the man, who does not hinder him from kicking.

If anything which my father said could have provoked my uncle Toby while he was in love, it was the perverse use my father was always making of an expression of Hilarion the hermit; who, in speaking of his abstinence, his flagellations, and other parts of his religion, would say - though with more facetiousness than became a hermit - 'That they were the means he used, to make his ass (meaning his body) leave off kicking.'
It pleased my father well; it was a laconic way of expressing and libelling, at the same time, the desires and appetites of the lower part of us; so that for many years of my father's life, he never used the word passions - but always ass instead.
I must here observe to you the difference betwixt
My father's ass
and my hobby-horse.
For my hobby-horse, if you recollect, is in no way a vicious beast; he has scarce one hair of the ass about him. - 'Tis the little filly-folly which carries you out for the present hour - a butterfly, a picture, a fiddlestick - uncle Toby's siege - or anything, which a man can get astride on, to canter away from the cares of life. 'Tis as useful a beast as exists in the whole of creation.
But as for my father's ass - oh! mount him not: 'tis a lustful beast - and foul befall the man who does not stop him from kicking.


King _William_, said my uncle _Toby_, addressing himself to _Yorick_, was so terribly provoked at count _Solmes_ for disobeying his orders, that he would not suffer him to come into his presence for many months after. ----I fear, answered _Yorick_, the squire will be as much provoked at the corporal, as the King at the count. ----But 'twould be singularly hard in this case, continued he, if corporal _Trim_, who has behaved so diametrically opposite to count _Solmes_, should have the fate to be rewarded with the same disgrace: ----too oft in this world, do things take that train. ----I would spring a mine, cried my uncle _Toby_, rising up, ----and blow up my fortifications, and my house with them, and we would perish under their ruins, ere I would stand by and see it. ----_Trim_ directed a slight, ----but a grateful bow towards his master, ----and so the chapter ends.

'King William,' said my uncle Toby to Yorick, 'was so terribly provoked at Count Solmes for disobeying his orders, that he would not allow him in his presence for months after.'
'I fear,' answered Yorick, 'Squire Shandy will be just as much provoked at the corporal. But 'twould be singularly hard in this case, if corporal Trim, who has behaved so differently to Count Solmes, should be rewarded with the same disgrace.'
'I would blow up my fortifications,' cried my uncle Toby, 'and my house with them, and we would perish under their ruins, before I would stand by and see it.'
Trim directed a grateful bow towards his master - and so the chapter ends.


The corporal, who the night before had resolved in his mind to supply the grand _desideratum_, of keeping up something like an incessant firing upon the enemy during the heat of the attack, --had no further idea in his fancy at that time, than a contrivance of smoking tobacco against the town, out of one of my uncle _Toby's_ six field-pieces, which were planted on each side of his sentry-box; the means of effecting which occurring to his fancy at the time same, though he had pledged his cap, he thought it in no danger from the miscarriage of his projects.
Upon turning it this way, and that, a little in his mind, he soon began to find out, that by means of his two _Turkish_ tobacco-pipes, with the supplement of three smaller tubes of wash-leather at each of their lower ends, to be tagg'd by the same number of tin-pipes fitted to the touch-holes, and sealed with clay next the cannon, and then tied hermetically with waxed silk at their several insertions into the _Morocco_ tube, --he should be able to fire the six field-pieces all together, and with the same ease as to fire one.------
----Let no man say from what taggs and jaggs hints may not be cut out for the advancement of human knowledge. Let no man, who has read my father's first and second _beds of justice_, ever rise up and say again, from collision of what kinds of bodies light may or may not be struck out, to carry the arts and sciences up to perfection. ----Heaven! thou knowest how I love them; ----thou knowest the secrets of my heart, and that I would this moment give my shirt ----Thou art a fool, _Shandy_, says _Eugenius_, for thou hast but a dozen in the world, --and 'twill break thy set.----
No matter for that, _Eugenius_; I would give the shirt off my back to be burned into tinder, were it only to satisfy one feverish enquirer, how many sparks at one good stroke, a good flint and steel could strike into the tail of it. ----Think ye not that in striking these _in_, --he might, peradventure, strike something _out?_ as sure as a gun.----
----But this project, by the bye.
The corporal sat up the best part of the night, in bringing _his_ to perfection; and having made a sufficient proof of his cannon, with charging them to the top with tobacco, --he went with contentment to bed.

The corporal, who the night before had resolved to keep up something like an incessant firing upon the enemy during the attack, - had no further idea how at that time, other than smoking tobacco out of one of my uncle Toby's six cannon beside his sentry-box.
Upon turning it over in his mind, he soon decided that by means of his two Turkish tobacco-pipes, along with three smaller tubes of leather added to their lower ends, with the same number of tin-pipes fitted to the touch-holes, and sealed with clay next the cannon, and then tied with waxed silk at their insertions into the Morocco tube - he should be able to fire the six field-pieces all together, as easily as firing one.
Let no man say from what tags and jags human knowledge may not be advanced. Let no man, who has read of my father's first and second beds of justice, ever say from what strange sources light may not be struck, to illuminate the arts and sciences. Heaven! thou knowest how I love them - and that I would this moment give my shirt-
'Thou art a fool, Shandy,' says Eugenius, 'for thou hast only a dozen shirts in the world.'
No matter for that, Eugenius. - But to this project.
The corporal sat up the best part of the night, in bringing it to perfection; and having charged his cannon to the top with tobacco, he went contentedly to bed.


I must observe, that although in the first year's campaign, the word _town_ is often mentioned, --yet there was no town at that time within the polygon; that addition was not made till the summer following the spring in which the bridges and sentry-box were painted, which was the third year of my uncle _Toby's_ campaigns, --when upon his taking _Amberg_, _Bonn_, and _Rhinberg_, and _Huy_ and _Limbourg_, one after another, a thought came into the corporal's head, that to talk of taking so many towns, _without one TOWN to shew for it_, --was a very nonsensical way of going to work, and so proposed to my uncle _Toby_, that they should have a little model of a town built for them, --to be run up together of slit deals, and then painted, and clapped within the interior polygon to serve for all.
My uncle _Toby_ felt the good of the project instantly, and instantly agreed to it, but with the addition of two singular improvements, of which he was almost as proud as if he had been the original inventor of the project itself.
The one was, to have the town built exactly in the style of those of which it was most likely to be the representative: ----with grated windows, and the gable ends of the houses, facing the streets, &c. &c. --as those in _Ghent_ and _Bruges_, and the rest of the towns in _Brabant_ and _Flanders_.
The other was, not to have the houses run up together, as the corporal proposed, but to have every house independent, to hook on, or off, so as to form into the plan of whatever town they pleased. This was put directly into hand, and many and many a look of mutual congratulation was exchanged between my uncle _Toby_ and the corporal, as the carpenter did the work.
----It answered prodigiously the next summer----the town was a perfect _Proteus_ ----It was _Landen_, and _Trerebach_, and _Santvliet_, and _Drusen_, and _Hagenau_, --and then it was _Ostend_ and _Menin_, and _Aeth_ and _Dendermond_.
----Surely never did any TOWN act so many parts, since _Sodom_ and _Gomorah_, as my uncle _Toby's_ town did.
In the fourth year, my uncle _Toby_ thinking a town looked foolishly without a church, added a very fine one with a steeple. ----_Trim_ was for having bells in it; ----my uncle _Toby_ said, the metal had better be cast into cannon.
This led the way the next campaign for half a dozen brass field-pieces, to be planted three and three on each side of my uncle _Toby's_ sentry-box; and in a short time, these led the way for a train of somewhat larger, --and so on--(as must always be the case in hobby-horsical affairs) from pieces of half an inch bore, till it came at last to my father's jack boots.
The next year, which was that in which _Lisle_ was besieged, and at the close of which both _Ghent_ and _Bruges_ fell into our hands, --my uncle _Toby_ was sadly put to it for _proper_ ammunition; ----I say proper ammunition----because his great artillery would not bear powder; and 'twas well for the _Shandy_ family they would not ----For so full were the papers, from the beginning to the end of the siege, of the incessant firings kept up by the besiegers, ----and so heated was my uncle _Toby's_ imagination with the accounts of them, that he had infallibly shot away all his estate.
SOMETHING therefore was wanting as a _succedaneum_, especially in one or two of the more violent paroxysms of the siege, to keep up something like a continual firing in the imagination, ----and this _something_, the corporal, whose principal strength lay in invention, supplied by an entire new system of battering of his own, --without which, this had been objected to by military critics, to the end of the world, as one of the great _desiderata_ of my uncle _Toby's_ apparatus.
This will not be explained the worse, for setting off, as I generally do, at a little distance from the subject.

I must observe, that although in the first year's campaign, the word town is often mentioned, yet a town was not added till the year after the sentry-box was painted, which was the third year of my uncle Toby's campaigns. Upon his taking Amberg, Bonn, Rhinberg, and Huy and Limbourg, one after another, a thought came into the corporal's head, that to talk of taking so many towns, without one town to show for it, was very nonsensical; and so he proposed to my uncle Toby that they should have a little wooden model of a town built, to serve for all.
My uncle Toby instantly agreed, but with the addition of two singular improvements, of which he was extremely proud.
One was, to have the town built in the Flemish style, with grated windows, and the gable ends facing the streets, &c. - like those in Ghent and Bruges.
The other was, not to have the houses made together, but to have every house independent, to hook on, or off, so as to form the plan of whatever town they pleased. This was begun directly, and many a look of congratulation was exchanged between my uncle Toby and the corporal, as the carpenter did the work.
The next summer, the town was a perfect Proteus, constantly changing from Landen - to Trerebach - to Santvliet - to Drusen - and so on.
Surely never did any Town act so many parts, since Sodom and Gomorrah.
In the fourth year, my uncle Toby, thinking a town looked foolish without a church, added a very fine one with a steeple. Trim wished for bells in it; my uncle said, the metal had better be cast into cannon.
This led the way for half a dozen brass artillery field-pieces, to be planted three on each side of my uncle Toby's sentry-box; and these soon led to somewhat larger cannons, till it came at last to my father's jack boots.
The next year, when Lisle was besieged, and Ghent and Bruges fell into our hands, my uncle Toby was sadly in need of proper ammunition; I say proper, because his great artillery would not bear gunpowder; which was just as well. For so full were the papers of the incessant firings by the besiegers - and so heated was my uncle Toby's imagination with these accounts, that he would have shot away all his estate.
A substitute was therefore needed, to keep up something like a continual firing in the imagination. The corporal, whose strength lay in invention, supplied an entire new system of battering of his own, which was the finishing touch to the whole apparatus.
This will be better explained if I set off, as I generally do, at a little distance from the subject.


Is it not a shame to make two chapters of what passed in going down one pair of stairs? for we are got no farther yet than to the first landing, and there are fifteen more steps down to the bottom; and for aught I know, as my father and my uncle _Toby_ are in a talking humour, there may be as many chapters as steps: ----let that be as it will, Sir, I can no more help it than my destiny: --A sudden impulse comes across me----drop the curtain, _Shandy_ ----I drop it --Strike a line here across the paper, _Tristram_ --I strike it--and hey for a new chapter.
The deuce of any other rule have I to govern myself by in this affair--and if I had one--as I do all things out of all rule --I would twist it and tear it to pieces, and throw it into the fire when I had done --Am I warm? I am, and the cause demands it----a pretty story! is a man to follow rules------or rules to follow him?
Now this, you must know, being my chapter upon chapters, which I promised to write before I went to sleep, I thought it meet to ease my conscience entirely before I laid down, by telling the world all I knew about the matter at once: Is not this ten times better than to set out dogmatically with a sententious parade of wisdom, and telling the world a story of a roasted horse----that chapters relieve the mind--that they assist--or impose upon the imagination--and that in a work of this dramatic cast they are as necessary as the shifting of scenes----with fifty other cold conceits, enough to extinguish the fire which roasted him? --O! but to understand this, which is a puff at the fire of _Diana's_ temple--you must read _Longinus_--read away--if you are not a jot the wiser by reading him the first time over--never fear--read him again--_Avicenna_ and _Licetus_ read _Aristotle's_ metaphysicks forty times through apiece, and never understood a single word. --But mark the consequence--_Avicenna_ turned out a desperate writer at all kinds of writing--for he wrote books _de omni scribili_; and for _Licetus_ (_Fortunio_) though all the world knows he was born a ftus,[4.6] of no more than five inches and a half in length, yet he grew to that astonishing height in literature, as to write a book with a title as long as himself------the learned know I mean his _Gonopsychanthropologia_, upon the origin of the human soul.
So much for my chapter upon chapters, which I hold to be the best chapter in my whole work; and take my word, whoever reads it, is full as well employed, as in picking straws.
[Footnote 4.6: _Ce Ftus_ n'toit pas plus grand que la paume de la main; mais son pere l'ayant xamin en qualit de Mdecin, & ayant trouv que c'etoit qulque chose de plus qu'un Embryon, le fit transporter tout vivant Rapallo, ou il le fit voir Jerme Bardi & d'autres Mdecins du lieu. On trouva qu'il ne lui manquoit rien d'essentiel la vie; & son pere pour faire voir un essai de son experience, entreprit d'achever l'ouvrage de la Nature, & de travailler la formation de l'Enfant avec le mme artifice que celui dont on se sert pour faire cclorre les Poulets en Egypte. Il instruisit une Nourisse de tout ce qu'elle avoit faire, & ayant fait mettre son fils dans un pour proprement accommod, il reussit l'lever & lui faire prendre ses accroissemens necessaires, par l'uniformit d'une chaleur trangere mesure xactement sur les dgrs d'un Thermomtre, ou d'un autre instrument quivalent. (Vide Mich. Giustinian, ne gli Scritt. Liguri Cart. 223. 488.)
On auroit toujours t trs satisfait de l'industrie d'un pere si experiment dans l'Art de la Generation, quand il n'auroit p prolonger la vie son fils que pour quelques mois, ou pour peu d'annes.
Mais quand on se represente que l'Enfant a vecu prs de quatre-vingts ans, & qu'il a compos quatre-vingts Ouvrages differents tous fruits d'une longue lecture--il faut convenir que tout ce qui est incroyable n'est pas toujours faux, & que la _Vraisemblance n'est pas toujours du ct de la Verit_.
Il n'avoit que dix neuf ans lorsqu'il composa Gonopsychanthropologia de Origine Anim human.
(Les Enfans celebres, revs & corrigs par M. de la Monnoye de l'Academie Franoise.)]

Is it not a shame to make two chapters of what passed in going down one pair of stairs? for we are got no farther yet than the first landing, and there are fifteen more steps down to the bottom; and for aught I know, as my father and my uncle Toby are in a talking mood, there may be as many chapters as steps.
- A sudden impulse comes across me - drop the curtain, Shandy - I drop it - and hey for a new chapter.
If I had a rule to govern this affair - as I do all things out of rule, I would tear it to pieces, and throw it into the fire. Is a man to follow rules - or are rules to follow him?
Now this, you must know, being my chapter upon chapters, which I promised to write before I went to sleep, I thought I should ease my conscience by telling the world all I knew about the matter at once. Is not this ten times better than setting out with a parade of wisdom, and saying that chapters relieve the mind - assist the reader - and that in a work of this dramatic cast they are as necessary as the scene-shifting?
O! but to understand this, you must read Longinus - if you are no wiser after that, never fear, read him again - Avicenna and Licetus read Aristotle's metaphysics forty times, and never understood a single word. But mark the consequence - Avicenna turned out a desperate writer; and as for Licetus, though all the world knows he was born a foetus of only five inches and a half in length, yet he grew to such astonishing height in literature as to write a book with a title as long as himself - the learned know I mean his Gonopsychanthropologia, upon the origin of the human soul.
So much for my chapter upon chapters, which I hold to be the best chapter in my whole work.


Now my uncle _Toby_ had one evening laid down his pipe upon the table, and was counting over to himself upon his finger ends (beginning at his thumb) all Mrs. _Wadman's_ perfections one by one; and happening two or three times together, either by omitting some, or counting others twice over, to puzzle himself sadly before he could get beyond his middle finger ----Prithee, _Trim!_ said he, taking up his pipe again, ----bring me a pen and ink: _Trim_ brought paper also.
Take a full sheet----_Trim!_ said my uncle _Toby_, making a sign with his pipe at the same time to take a chair and sit down close by him at the table. The corporal obeyed----placed the paper directly before him----took a pen, and dipp'd it in the ink.
--She has a thousand virtues, _Trim!_ said my uncle _Toby_----
Am I to set them down, an' please your honour? quoth the corporal.
----But they must be taken in their ranks, replied my uncle _Toby_; for of them all, _Trim_, that which wins me most, and which is a security for all the rest, is the compassionate turn and singular humanity of her character --I protest, added my uncle _Toby_, looking up, as he protested it, towards the top of the ceiling ----That was I her brother, _Trim_, a thousand fold, she could not make more constant or more tender enquiries after my sufferings----though now no more.
The corporal made no reply to my uncle _Toby's_ protestation, but by a short cough--he dipp'd the pen a second time into the inkhorn; and my uncle _Toby_, pointing with the end of his pipe as close to the top of the sheet at the left hand corner of it, as he could get it----the corporal wrote down the word HUMANITY - - - - thus.
Prithee, corporal, said my uncle _Toby_, as soon as _Trim_ had done it------how often does Mrs. _Bridget_ enquire after the wound on the cap of thy knee, which thou received'st at the battle of _Landen?_
She never, an' please your honour, enquires after it at all.
That, corporal, said my uncle _Toby_, with all the triumph the goodness of his nature would permit ----That shews the difference in the character of the mistress and maid----had the fortune of war allotted the same mischance to me, Mrs. _Wadman_ would have enquired into every circumstance relating to it a hundred times ----She would have enquired, an' please your honour, ten times as often about your honour's groin ----The pain, _Trim_, is equally excruciating, ----and Compassion has as much to do with the one as the other----
----God bless your honour! cried the corporal----what has a woman's compassion to do with a wound upon the cap of a man's knee? had your honour's been shot into ten thousand splinters at the affair of _Landen_, Mrs. _Wadman_ would have troubled her head as little about it as _Bridget_; because, added the corporal, lowering his voice, and speaking very distinctly, as he assigned his reason----
"The knee is such a distance from the main body----whereas the groin, your honour knows, is upon the very _curtain_ of the _place_."
My uncle _Toby_ gave a long whistle----but in a note which could scarce be heard across the table.
The corporal had advanced too far to retire----in three words he told the rest----
My uncle _Toby_ laid down his pipe as gently upon the fender, as if it had been spun from the unravellings of a spider's web----
------Let us go to my brother _Shandy's_, said he.

Now my uncle Toby had one evening laid down his pipe upon the table, and was counting over to himself upon his fingers all Mrs. Wadman's perfections one by one; and either by omitting some, or counting others twice over, was puzzling himself sadly before he could get beyond his middle finger,
'Prithee, Trim!' said he, taking up his pipe again, 'bring me a pen and ink.' Trim brought paper also.
'Take a full sheet, Trim!' said my uncle Toby, making a sign with his pipe to sit down at the table. The corporal obeyed - placed the paper before him - dipped pen in ink.
'She has a thousand virtues, Trim!' said my uncle Toby.
'Am I to set them down, your honour?' quoth the corporal.
'But they must be taken in their ranks,' replied my uncle Toby; 'for of them all, Trim, that which wins me most is the compassionate turn and singular humanity of her character - I protest,' added my uncle Toby, looking up, 'that were I her brother, Trim, she could not make more constant or more tender enquiries after my sufferings.'
The corporal made no reply to this, but a cough. He dipped the pen a second time; and when my uncle Toby pointed with the end of his pipe to the top of the sheet, the corporal wrote down the word Humanity - - - thus.
'Prithee, corporal,' said my uncle, 'how often does Mrs. Bridget enquire after the wound on thy kneecap, which thou received'st at the battle of Landen?'
'She never enquires after it at all.'
'That, corporal,' said my uncle Toby, with all the triumph his goodness would permit, - 'That shows the difference in the character of the mistress and the maid. If I had the same wound, Mrs. Wadman would have enquired into every circumstance relating to it a hundred times.'
'She would have enquired, your honour, ten times as often about your honour's groin.'
'The pain, Trim, is equally excruciating, and Compassion cares as much about the one as the other-'
'God bless your honour!' cried the corporal. 'What has a woman's compassion to do with a wound upon a man's kneecap? had your honour's knee been shot into ten thousand splinters, Mrs. Wadman would have troubled her head as little about it as Bridget; because,' added the corporal, lowering his voice, and speaking very distinctly, as he gave his reason-
'The knee is a distance from the main body - whereas the groin, your honour knows, is upon the very curtin of the place.'
My uncle Toby gave a long, low whistle.
The corporal had advanced too far to retire - he told the rest.
My uncle Toby laid down his pipe as gently upon the fender as if it were a spider's web.
- 'Let us go to my brother Shandy's,' said he.


Of the few legitimate sons of _Adam_ whose breasts never felt what the sting of love was, --(maintaining first, all mysogynists to be bastards)--the greatest heroes of ancient and modern story have carried off amongst them nine parts in ten of the honour; and I wish for their sakes I had the key of my study, out of my draw-well, only for five minutes, to tell you their names--recollect them I cannot--so be content to accept of these, for the present, in their stead.------
There was the great king _Aldrovandus_, and _Bosphorus_, and _Cappadocius_, and _Dardanus_, and _Pontus_, and _Asius_, ----to say nothing of the iron-hearted _Charles_ the XIIth, whom the Countess of K***** herself could make nothing of. ----There was _Babylonicus_, and _Mediterraneus_, and _Polixenes_, and _Persicus_, and _Prusicus_, not one of whom (except _Cappadocius_ and _Pontus_, who were both a little suspected) ever once bowed down his breast to the goddess ----The truth is, they had all of them something else to do--and so had my uncle _Toby_--till Fate--till Fate I say, envying his name the glory of being handed down to posterity with _Aldrovandus's_ and the rest, --she basely patched up the peace of _Utrecht_.
----Believe me, Sirs, 'twas the worst deed she did that year.

Of the few men whose breasts never felt the sting of love, the great heroes of ancient and modern stories have carried off nine parts in ten of the honour; and I wish I had the key of my study for five minutes, to tell you their names - recollect them I cannot - so accept these, for the present, in their stead.
There was the great king Aldrovandus, and Bosphorus, and Cappadocius, and Dardanus, and Pontus, and Asius, to say nothing of the iron-hearted Charles the XIIth, whom the Countess of K***** herself could make nothing of. There was Babylonicus, Mediterraneus, Persicus, and Prusicus, not one of whom ever bowed down to the goddess Love - the truth is, they had all something else to do. - And so had my uncle Toby - till Fate - till Fate, I say, envying his name the glory of being handed down to posterity with Aldrovandus's and the rest, basely patched up the peace of Utrecht.
- Believe me, Sirs, 'twas the worst deed she did that year.


Great wits jump: for the moment Dr. _Slop_ cast his eyes upon his bag (which he had not done till the dispute with my uncle _Toby_ about midwifery put him in mind of it)--the very same thought occurred. --'Tis God's mercy, quoth he (to himself) that Mrs. _Shandy_ has had so bad a time of it, ----else she might have been brought to bed seven times told, before one half of these knots could have got untied. ----But here you must distinguish--the thought floated only in Dr. _Slop's_ mind, without sail or ballast to it, as a simple proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day swimming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a man's understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some little gusts of passion or interest drive them to one side.
A sudden trampling in the room above, near my mother's bed, did the proposition the very service I am speaking of. By all that's unfortunate, quoth Dr. _Slop_, unless I make haste, the thing will actually befall me as it is.

The moment Dr. Slop cast his eyes upon his bag, the very same thought occurred to him.
''Tis God's mercy,' quoth he (to himself) 'that Mrs. Shandy has had so bad a time of it, - or else she might have given birth seven times, before these knots could be untied.'
- But here you must distinguish - the thought floated only in Dr. Slop's mind, without sail or ballast, as a simple proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day swimming quietly in a man's understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some little gusts of passion or interest drive them on.
A sudden trampling in the room above did this very action.
'By all that's unfortunate,' quoth Dr. Slop, 'unless I make haste, the thing will actually happen.'


Now there are such an infinitude of notes, tunes, cants, chants, airs, looks, and accents with which the word _fiddlestick_ may be pronounced in all such causes as this, every one of 'em impressing a sense and meaning as different from the other, as _dirt_ from _cleanliness_ --That Casuists (for it is an affair of conscience on that score) reckon up no less than fourteen thousand in which you may do either right or wrong.
Mrs. _Wadman_ hit upon the _fiddlestick_, which summoned up all my uncle _Toby's_ modest blood into his cheeks--so feeling within himself that he had somehow or other got beyond his depth, he stopt short; and without entering further either into the pains or pleasures of matrimony, he laid his hand upon his heart, and made an offer to take them as they were, and share them along with her.
When my uncle _Toby_ had said this, he did not care to say it again; so casting his eye upon the Bible which Mrs. _Wadman_ had laid upon the table, he took it up; and popping, dear soul! upon a passage in it, of all others the most interesting to him--which was the siege of _Jericho_--he set himself to read it over--leaving his proposal of marriage, as he had done his declaration of love, to work with her after its own way. Now it wrought neither as an astringent or a loosener; nor like opium, or bark, or mercury, or buckthorn, or any one drug which nature had bestowed upon the world--in short, it work'd not at all in her; and the cause of that was, that there was something working there before ----Babbler that I am! I have anticipated what it was a dozen times; but there is fire still in the subject----allons.

Now there are so many notes, tunes, chants, airs, looks, and accents with which the word fiddlestick may be pronounced, every one of 'em having a meaning as different from the other, as dirt from cleanliness - that Casuists reckon up no less than fourteen thousand.
Mrs. Wadman hit upon the fiddlestick which summoned all my uncle Toby's modest blood into his cheeks. Feeling that he had somehow or other got beyond his depth, he stopped short; and without entering further either into the pains or pleasures of matrimony, he laid his hand upon his heart, and made an offer to take them as they were, and share them with her.
When my uncle Toby had said this, he did not care to say it again; so casting his eye upon the Bible which Mrs. Wadman had laid upon the table, he took it up; and popping, dear soul! upon a passage in it which was most interesting to him - the siege of Jericho - he began to read it - leaving his proposal of marriage, like his declaration of love, to work with her after its own way.
But it worked not at all in her; because there was something working there before - Babbler that I am! I have anticipated what it was a dozen times; but there is fire still in the subject. - Allons.


All sins whatever, quoth the abbess, turning casuist in the distress they were under, are held by the confessor of our convent to be either mortal or venial: there is no further division. Now a venial sin being the slightest and least of all sins--being halved--by taking either only the half of it, and leaving the rest--or, by taking it all, and amicably halving it betwixt yourself and another person--in course becomes diluted into no sin at all.
Now I see no sin in saying, _bou_, _bou_, _bou_, _bou_, _bou_, a hundred times together; nor is there any turpitude in pronouncing the syllable _ger_, _ger_, _ger_, _ger_, _ger_, were it from our matins to our vespers: Therefore, my dear daughter, continued the abbess of _Andoillets_ --I will say _bou_, and thou shalt say _ger_; and then alternately, as there is no more sin in _fou_ than in _bou_ --Thou shalt say _fou_--and I will come in (like fa, sol, la, re, mi, ut, at our complines) with _ter_. And accordingly the abbess, giving the pitch note, set off thus:
Abbess, } Bou - - bou - - bou - - _Margarita_, } ----ger, - - ger, - - ger. _Margarita_, } Fou - - fou - - fou - - Abbess, } ----ter, - - ter, - - ter.
The two mules acknowledged the notes by a mutual lash of their tails; but it went no further----'Twill answer by an' by, said the novice.
Abbess } Bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- bou- _Margarita_, } --ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, ger.
Quicker still, cried _Margarita_.
Fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou.
Quicker still, cried _Margarita_.
Bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou,
Quicker still --God preserve me; said the abbess --They do not understand us, cried _Margarita_ --But the Devil does, said the abbess of _Andoillets_.

'All sins,' quoth the abbess, 'are either mortal or venial: there is no further division. Now a venial sin being the least of all sins - being halved, it becomes diluted into no sin at all.
'Now I see no sin in saying, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, a hundred times together; nor is there any wickedness in pronouncing the syllable ger, ger, ger, ger, ger, all day long. Therefore, my dear daughter,' continued the abbess, 'I will say bou, and thou shalt say ger; and then alternately, as there is no more sin in fou than in bou, thou shalt say fou and I will come in, just as in our complines, with ker.'
And accordingly the abbess set off thus:
Abbess: Bou- bou- bou-
Margarita: -ger -ger -ger.
And then
Margarita: Fou- fou- fou-
Abbess: -ker -ker -ker.
The two mules acknowledged the words with a lash of their tails; but no more.
''Twill work by and by,' said the novice.
Abbess: Bou- bou- bou- bou- bou-
Margarita: -ger -ger -ger -ger -ger.
'Quicker still,' cried Margarita.
Fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou, fou.
'Quicker still,' cried Margarita.
Bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou, bou.
'Quicker still-'
'God preserve me!' said the abbess.
'They do not understand us,' cried Margarita.
'But the Devil does,' said the abbess of Andoillets.


Dr. _Slop_ was within an ace of being an exception to all this argumentation: for happening to have his green bays bag upon his knees, when he began to parody my uncle _Toby_--'twas as good as the best mantle in the world to him: for which purpose, when he foresaw the sentence would end in his new-invented _forceps_, he thrust his hand into the bag in order to have them ready to clap in, when your reverences took so much notice of the ***, which had he managed----my uncle _Toby_ had certainly been overthrown: the sentence and the argument in that case jumping closely in one point, so like the two lines which form the salient angle of a ravelin, ----Dr. _Slop_ would never have given them up; --and my uncle _Toby_ would as soon have thought of flying, as taking them by force: but Dr. _Slop_ fumbled so vilely in pulling them out, it took off the whole effect, and what was a ten times worse evil (for they seldom come alone in this life) in pulling out his _forceps_, his _forceps_ unfortunately drew out the _squirt_ along with it.
When a proposition can be taken in two senses--'tis a law in disputation, That the respondent may reply to which of the two he pleases, or finds most convenient for him. ----This threw the advantage of the argument quite on my uncle _Toby's_ side. ----"Good God!" cried my uncle _Toby_, "_are children brought into the world with a squirt?_"

Dr. Slop happening to have his green baize bag upon his knees, 'twas as good as a mantle to him: so that when he foresaw his sentence would end in his new-invented forceps, he thrust his hand into the bag in order to have them ready to flourish at the ****** which you noticed.
However, he fumbled so vilely in pulling them out that it ruined the effect, and what was ten times worse, in pulling out his forceps, he unfortunately drew out the squirt along with it.
When a proposition can be taken in two ways, the respondent may reply to whichever he finds most convenient. - This threw the advantage of the argument quite on my uncle Toby's side.
'Good God!' he cried, 'are children brought into the world with a squirt?'


Writing, when properly managed (as you may be sure I think mine is) is but a different name for conversation. As no one, who knows what he is about in good company, would venture to talk all; ----so no author, who understands the just boundaries of decorum and good-breeding, would presume to think all: The truest respect which you can pay to the reader's understanding, is to halve this matter amicably, and leave him something to imagine, in his turn, as well as yourself.
For my own part, I am eternally paying him compliments of this kind, and do all that lies in my power to keep his imagination as busy as my own.
'Tis his turn now; --I have given an ample description of Dr. _Slop's_ sad overthrow, and of his sad appearance in the back-parlour; --his imagination must now go on with it for a while.
Let the reader imagine then, that Dr. _Slop_ has told his tale--and in what words, and with what aggravations, his fancy chooses; --Let him suppose, that _Obadiah_ has told his tale also, and with such rueful looks of affected concern, as he thinks best will contrast the two figures as they stand by each other. ----Let him imagine, that my father has stepped upstairs to see my mother. --And, to conclude this work of imagination--let him imagine the doctor washed, --rubbed down, and condoled, --felicitated, --got into a pair of _Obadiah's_ pumps, stepping forwards towards the door, upon the very point of entering upon action.
Truce! --truce, good Dr. _Slop_: --stay thy obstetrick hand; ----return it safe into thy bosom to keep it warm; ----little dost thou know what obstacles, ------little dost thou think what hidden causes, retard its operation! ----Hast thou, Dr. _Slop_, --hast thou been intrusted with the secret articles of the solemn treaty which has brought thee into this place? --Art thou aware that at this instant, a daughter of _Lucina_ is put obstetrically over thy head? Alas! --'tis too true. --Besides, great son of _Pilumnus!_ what canst thou do? --Thou hast come forth unarm'd; --thou hast left thy _tire-tte_, --thy new-invented _forceps_, --thy _crotchet_, --thy _squirt_, and all thy instruments of salvation and deliverance, behind thee, --By Heaven! at this moment they are hanging up in a green bays bag, betwixt thy two pistols, at the bed's head! --Ring; --call; --send _Obadiah_ back upon the coach-horse to bring them with all speed.
----Make great haste, _Obadiah_, quoth my father, and I'll give thee a crown! --and quoth my uncle _Toby_, I'll give him another.

Writing, when properly managed (as you may be sure I think mine is) is but a different name for conversation. As no one in good company would venture to do all the talking; - so no author with good manners would presume to do all the thinking. The truest respect which you can pay to the reader's understanding, is to leave him something to imagine.
For my own part, I am eternally paying him compliments of this kind, and do all that lies in my power to keep his imagination busy.
Thus, I have given an ample description of Dr. Slop's sad overthrow, and his appearance in the back-parlour; his imagination must now go on with it for a while.
Let the reader imagine then, that Dr. Slop has told his tale - and in what words his fancy chooses. Let him suppose that Obadiah has told his tale also, with rueful looks of concern.
- Let him imagine that my father has stepped upstairs to see my mother. And, to conclude, - let him imagine the doctor washed, rubbed down, condoled, and got into a pair of Obadiah's pumps, stepping towards the door, on the very point of entering the action.
Truce! - truce, good Dr. Slop: - stay thy obstetric hand! Hast thou, Dr. Slop, been told of the secret and solemn treaty which has brought thee here? Art thou aware that at this instant, a mere midwife is put over thy head?
Alas! 'tis too true. What canst thou do? Thou hast come unarmed; thou hast left thy new-invented forceps, and all thy instruments of deliverance, behind thee. By Heaven! at this moment they are hanging up in a green baize bag, at thy house! - Ring - call - send Obadiah back upon the coach-horse to bring them with all speed.
'Make haste, Obadiah,' quoth my father, 'and I'll give thee a crown!'
Quoth my uncle Toby - 'I'll give him another.'


Now hang it! quoth I, as I look'd towards the _French_ coast--a man should know something of his own country too, before he goes abroad----and I never gave a peep into _Rochester_ church, or took notice of the dock of _Chatham_, or visited St. _Thomas_ at _Canterbury_, though they all three laid in my way----
--But mine, indeed, is a particular case----
So without arguing the matter further with _Thomas o' Becket_, or any one else --I skip'd into the boat, and in five minutes we got under sail, and scudded away like the wind.
Pray, captain, quoth I, as I was going down into the cabin, is a man never overtaken by _Death_ in this passage?
Why, there is not time for a man to be sick in it, replied he ----What a cursed lyar! for I am sick as a horse, quoth I, already----what a brain! ----upside down! ----hey-day! the cells are broke loose one into another, and the blood, and the lymph, and the nervous juices, with the fix'd and volatile salts, are all jumbled into one mass----good G--! everything turns round in it like a thousand whirlpools ----I'd give a shilling to know if I shan't write the clearer for it----
Sick! sick! sick! sick!----
--When shall we get to land? captain--they have hearts like stones ----O I am deadly sick! ----reach me that thing, boy----'tis the most discomfiting sickness ----I wish I was at the bottom --Madam! how is it with you? Undone! undone! un ----O! undone! sir ----What the first time? ----No, 'tis the second, third, sixth, tenth time, sir, ----hey-day! --what a trampling over head! --hollo! cabin boy! what's the matter?--
The wind chopp'd about! s'Death! --then I shall meet him full in the face.
What luck! --'tis chopp'd about again, master ----O the devil chop it----
Captain, quoth she, for heaven's sake, let us get ashore.

'Now hang it!' quoth I, as I looked towards the French coast - 'a man should know something of his own country before he goes abroad - and I never gave a peep into Rochester church, or Chatham Dock, or visited St. Thomas at Canterbury, though they all lay in my way.'
- But mine, indeed, is a particular case -
So without arguing further, I skipped into the boat, and in five minutes we got under sail, and scudded away like the wind.
'Pray, captain,' quoth I, as I was going down into the cabin, 'is a man never overtaken by Death in this crossing?'
'Why, there is not time for a man to be sick,' replied he.
'What a cursed liar! for I am sick as a horse already,' quoth I. 'What a brain! - upside down! hey-day! the cells are broke loose one into another, and the blood, and lymph, and nervous juices are all jumbled into one mass - everything turns round in it like a thousand whirlpools-
'Sick! sick! sick! sick!
'When shall we get to land, captain? - they have hearts like stones - O I am deadly sick! reach me that thing, boy - I wish I was at the bottom - Madam! how is it with you? Undone! undone! - What, the first time? - No, 'tis the second, third, sixth, tenth time, sir - hey-day! what a trampling over head! Hallo! cabin boy! what's the matter?'
The wind chopped about! s'Death! - then I shall meet him full in the face.
What luck! ''Tis chopped about again, master.'
'O the devil chop it-'
'Captain,' quoth she, 'for heaven's sake, let us get ashore.'