"_Blessed is the man_, indeed, then, as the author of the book of _Ecclesiasticus_ expresses it, _who is not pricked with the multitude of his sins: Blessed is the man whose heart hath not condemned him; whether he be rich, or whether he be poor, if he have a good heart_ (a heart thus guided and informed) _he shall at all times rejoice in a chearful countenance; his mind shall tell him more than seven watch-men that sit above upon a tower on high_."

'"Blessed is the man, indeed, then, as the author of Ecclesiasticus says, who is not pricked with the multitude of his sins. Blessed is the man whose heart hath not condemned him; whether he be rich, or poor, if he have a good heart, he shall rejoice; his mind shall tell him more than seven watch-men upon a tower on high."'


--[A tower has no strength, quoth my uncle _Toby_, unless 'tis flank'd.]

['A tower has no strength,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'unless 'tis flanked.']


-- "In the darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than a thousand casuists, and give the state he lives in, a better security for his behaviour than all the causes and restrictions put together which law-makers are forced to multiply: --_Forced_, I say, as things stand; human laws not being a matter of original choice, but of pure necessity, brought in to fence against the mischievous effects of those consciences which are no law unto themselves; well intending, by the many provisions made, --that in all such corrupt and misguided cases, where principles and the checks of conscience will not make us upright, --to supply their force, and, by the terrors of gaols and halters, oblige us to it."

'"In the darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than all the restrictions of law-makers, forced out of pure necessity to guard against the mischievous effects of those consciences which are corrupt and misguided."'


[I see plainly, said my father, that this sermon has been composed to be preached at the Temple, ----or at some Assize.

['I see plainly,' said my father, 'that this sermon has been composed to be preached at the law-courts.


--I like the reasoning, --and am sorry that Dr. _Slop_ has fallen asleep before the time of his conviction: --for it is now clear, that the Parson, as I thought at first, never insulted St. _Paul_ in the least; --nor has there been, brother, the least difference between them.

I like the reasoning, and am sorry that Dr. Slop has fallen asleep: for it is now clear, that the Parson, as I thought at first, never insulted St. Paul in the least; nor has there been the least difference between them.'


----A great matter, if they had differed, replied my uncle _Toby_, --the best friends in the world may differ sometimes.

'The best friends in the world may differ sometimes,' replied my uncle Toby.


----True, --brother _Toby_, quoth my father, shaking hands with him, --we'll fill our pipes, brother, and then _Trim_ shall go on.

'True, brother Toby,' quoth my father, shaking hands with him. 'We'll fill our pipes, and then Trim shall go on.


said my father speaking to Corporal _Trim_, as he reached his tobacco-box.


I think, answered the Corporal, that the seven watch-men upon the tower, who, I suppose, are all centinels there, --are more, an' please your Honour, than were necessary; --and, to go on at that rate, would harrass a regiment all to pieces, which a commanding officer, who loves his men, will never do, if he can help it, because two centinels, added the Corporal, are as good as twenty.

'I think,' answered the Corporal, 'that the seven watch-men upon the tower, who, I suppose, are sentinels, are more than necessary; and to go on at that rate, would harass a regiment all to pieces, which a commanding officer will never do. Two sentinels are as good as twenty.


--I have been a commanding officer myself in the _Corps de Garde_ a hundred times, continued _Trim_, rising an inch higher in his figure, as he spoke, --and all the time I had the honour to serve his Majesty King _William_, in relieving the most considerable posts, I never left more than two in my life.

- I have been a commanding officer myself,' continued Trim, rising an inch higher, 'and all the time I had the honour to serve his Majesty King William, I never left more than two sentinels in my life.'


----Very right, _Trim_, quoth my uncle _Toby_, --but you do not consider, _Trim_, that the towers, in _Solomon's_ days, were not such things as our bastions, flanked and defended by other works; --this, _Trim_, was an invention since _Solomon's_ death; nor had they horn-works, or ravelins before the curtin, in his time; ----or such a foss as we make with a cuvette in the middle of it, and with covered ways and counterscarps pallisadoed along it, to guard against a _Coup de main_: --So that the seven men upon the tower were a party, I dare say, from the _Corps de Garde_, set there, not only to look out, but to defend it.

'Very right, Trim,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'but the towers in Solomon's days were not like our bastions; nor had they hornworks, or ravelins before the curtin, in his time; or such a foss as we make with a cuvette in the middle, and counterscarps pallisadoed along it. The seven men upon the tower were set there, I daresay, not only to look out, but to defend it.'


--They could be no more, an' please your Honour, than a Corporal's Guard.


--My father smiled inwardly, but not outwardly; --the subject being rather too serious, considering what had happened, to make a jest of.

My father smiled inwardly, but not outwardly; the subject being rather too serious to make a jest of.


--So putting his pipe into his mouth, which he had just lighted, --he contented himself with ordering _Trim_ to read on.

Putting his pipe into his mouth, he ordered Trim to read on.]


"To have the fear of God before our eyes, and, in our mutual dealings with each other, to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right and wrong: ----The first of these will comprehend the duties of religion; --the second, those of morality, which are so inseparably connected together, that you cannot divide these two _tables_, even in imagination (tho' the attempt is often made in practice) without breaking and mutually destroying them both.

'"To have the fear of God before our eyes, and to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right and wrong: the first of these will follow the duties of religion; the second, those of morality, which are so inseparably connected together that you cannot divide them (though the attempt is often made) without breaking them both.


"I said the attempt is often made; and so it is; ----there being nothing more common than to see a man who has no sense at all of religion, and indeed has so much honesty as to pretend to none, who would take it as the bitterest affront, should you but hint at a suspicion of his moral character, ----or imagine he was not conscientiously just and scrupulous to the uttermost mite.

'"I said the attempt is often made; and so it is; - there being nothing more common than a man who has no sense of religion, and indeed has enough honesty to pretend to none, who would take it as the bitterest affront should you hint at a suspicion of his moral character, or imagine he was not completely just and scrupulous.


"When there is some appearance that it is so, --tho' one is unwilling even to suspect the appearance of so amiable a virtue as moral honesty, yet were we to look into the grounds of it, in the present case, I am persuaded we should find little reason to envy such a one the honour of his motive.

'"There is little reason to envy such a one the honour of his motive.


"Let him declaim as pompously as he chooses upon the subject, it will be found to rest upon no better foundation than either his interest, his pride, his ease, or some such little and changeable passion as will give us but small dependence upon his actions in matters of great distress.

Let him declaim as pompously as he chooses, it will be found to rest upon no better foundation than his interest, his pride, his ease, or some other such changeable passion as gives us little dependence upon his actions in matters of great distress.


"I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in" --[There is no need, cried Dr. _Slop_ (waking), to call in any physician in this case]---- "to be neither of them men of much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day, and treat all its sanctions with so much scorn, as to put the matter past doubt.

'"I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in-"'
['There is no need,' cried Dr. Slop, waking, 'to call in any physician in this case.']
'"- to be neither of them men of religion: I hear them make a scornful jest of it every day.


Well; --notwithstanding this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one: --and what is dearer still to me, I trust my life to the honest skill of the other.

Despite this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one, and I trust my life to the honest skill of the other.


"Now let me examine what is my reason for this great confidence.

'"Now let me examine my reason for this great confidence.


Why, in the first place, I believe there is no probability that either of them will employ the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage; --I consider that honesty serves the purposes of this life: --I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their characters.

Firstly, I do not believe that either of them will use the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage; I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their characters.


--In a word, I'm persuaded that they cannot hurt me without hurting themselves more.

In a word, they cannot hurt me without hurting themselves more.


"But put it otherwise, namely, that interest lay, for once, on the other side; that a case should happen, wherein the one, without stain to his reputation, could secrete my fortune, and leave me naked in the world; --or that the other could send me out of it, and enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonour to himself or his art: --In this case, what hold have I of either of them?

'"But if interest lay, for once, on the other side; if the one, without stain to his reputation, could take my fortune, or the other could enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonour to himself - in this case, what hold have I over either of them?


--Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question; --Interest, the next most powerful motive in the world, is strongly against me: ------What have I left to cast into the opposite scale to balance this temptation?

Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question; Interest, the next most powerful motive in the world, is strongly against me. What have I left to cast into the opposite scale to balance this temptation?


I have nothing, ----nothing but what is lighter than a bubble ------I must lie at the mercy of HONOUR, or some such capricious principle --Strait security for two of the most valuable blessings!

I have nothing. I am at the mercy of Honour, or some such capricious principle - poor security for


"As, therefore, we can have no dependence upon morality without religion; --so, on the other hand, there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality; nevertheless, 'tis no prodigy to see a man whose real moral character stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself in the light of a religious man.

'"As, therefore, we cannot depend upon morality without religion, so there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality. Nevertheless, 'tis not uncommon to see a man whose real moral character stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself as a religious man.


"He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable, --but even wanting in points of common honesty; yet inasmuch as he talks aloud against the infidelity of the age, ----is zealous for some points of religion, ----goes twice a day to church, --attends the sacraments, --and amuses himself with a few instrumental parts of religion, --shall cheat his conscience into a judgment, that, for this, he is a religious man, and has discharged truly his duty to God: And you will find such a man, through force of this delusion, generally looks down with spiritual pride upon every other man who has less affectation of piety, --though, perhaps, ten times more real honesty than himself.

'"He may be covetous, revengeful, implacable, and dishonest; yet he talks loudly against the infidelity of the age, goes twice a day to church, attends the sacraments, and cheats his conscience into thinking that he is a religious man, and has discharged truly his duty to God. You will find such a man generally looks down upon everyone who has less apparent piety, - though, perhaps, ten times more real honesty than himself.


"_This likewise is a sore evil under the sun_; and I believe, there is no one mistaken principle, which, for its time, has wrought more serious mischiefs.

'"I believe there is no one mistaken principle which has wrought more serious mischief.


------For a general proof of this, --examine the history of the _Romish_ church;" --[Well, what can you make of that?

For a proof of this, examine the history of the Romish church


cried Dr. _Slop_]-- "see what scenes of cruelty, murder, rapine, bloodshed," ----[They may thank their own obstinacy, cried Dr. _Slop_]---- "have all been sanctified by a religion not strictly governed by morality.

; see what scenes of cruelty, murder, rapine, bloodshed-"'
['They may thank their own obstinacy,' cried Dr. Slop.]
'"- have all been sanctified by a religion not governed by morality.


"In how many kingdoms of the world" --[Here _Trim_ kept waving his right hand from the sermon to the extent of his arm, returning it backwards and forwards to the conclusion of the paragraph.]


"In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading sword of this misguided saint-errant, spared neither age nor merit, or sex, or condition?

In how many countries has the crusading sword of this misguided saint-errant spared neither age nor merit?


--and, as he fought under the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice and humanity, he shewed none; mercilessly trampled upon both, --heard neither the cries of the unfortunate, nor pitied their distresses."

and, as he fought under the banners of a religion which freed him from justice and humanity, he showed none; mercilessly trampled upon the unfortunate, and pitied not their distress."


[I have been in many a battle, an' please your Honour, quoth _Trim_, sighing, but never in so melancholy a one as this, --I would not have drawn a tricker in it against these poor souls, ----to have been made a general officer.

['I have been in many a battle,' quoth Trim, sighing, 'but never in so melancholy a one as this.'


said Dr. _Slop_, looking towards _Trim_, with something more of contempt than the Corporal's honest heart deserved.

said Dr. Slop, looking at Trim with something of contempt.


----What do you know, friend, about this battle you talk of?


--I know, replied _Trim_, that I never refused quarter in my life to any man who cried out for it; ----but to a woman or a child, continued _Trim_, before I would level my musket at them, I would lose my life a thousand times.

'I know,' replied Trim, 'that I never refused mercy to any man who begged for it; and rather than fire upon a child or woman, I would lose my life a thousand times.'


----Here's a crown for thee, _Trim_, to drink with _Obadiah_ to-night, quoth my uncle _Toby_, and I'll give _Obadiah_ another too.

'Here's a crown for thee, Trim, to drink with Obadiah to-night,' quoth my uncle Toby.


--God bless your Honour, replied _Trim_, ----I had rather these poor women and children had it.

'God bless your Honour,' replied Trim; 'I had rather those poor women and children had it.'


----Thou art an honest fellow, quoth my uncle _Toby_.

'Thou art an honest fellow,' quoth my uncle.


----My father nodded his head, as much as to say, --and so he is.----


But prithee, _Trim_, said my father, make an end, --for I see thou hast but a leaf or two left.

'But prithee, Trim,' he said, 'make an end, for I see thou hast but a page or two left.'


"If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not sufficient, --consider at this instant, how the votaries of that religion are every day thinking to do service and honour to God, by actions which are a dishonour and scandal to themselves.

'"If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not enough, consider how the votaries of that religion are every day thinking to serve God, by actions which are a dishonour and scandal.


'"To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of the Inquisition."


-- "Behold _Religion_, with _Mercy_ and _Justice_ chained down under her feet, ----there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment.

"Behold Religion, with Mercy and Justice chained under her feet, there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment.


--[Here _Trim's_ face turned as pale as ashes.]

[Here Trim's face turned as pale as ashes.]


---- "See the melancholy wretch who uttered it" --[Here the tears began to trickle down.]

'"See the melancholy wretch who uttered it-"' [Here the tears began to trickle down


---- "just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty has been able to invent."

] '"-brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty has been able to invent."


--[D--n them all, quoth _Trim_, his colour returning into his face as red as blood.]


-- "Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors, --his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement."

'"Behold this helpless victim, his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement-"


'tis my brother, cried poor _Trim_ in a most passionate exclamation, dropping the sermon upon the ground, and clapping his hands together --I fear 'tis poor _Tom_.

'tis my brother,' cried poor Trim, dropping the sermon upon the ground.


My father's and my uncle _Toby's_ heart yearned with sympathy for the poor fellow's distress; even _Slop_ himself acknowledged pity for him.

My father and my uncle, and even Slop himself, pitied the poor fellow's distress.


----Why, _Trim_, said my father, this is not a history, ----'tis a sermon thou art reading; prithee begin the sentence again.]

'Why, Trim,' said my father, 'this is not a history, 'tis a sermon: prithee begin the sentence again.']


---- "Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors, --his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it suffers.

'"Behold this helpless victim, his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it suffers.


'"Observe the last movement of that horrid engine!"


--[I would rather face a cannon, quoth _Trim_, stamping.]

['I would rather face a cannon,' quoth Trim.]


-- "See what convulsions it has thrown him into!


----Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched, --what exquisite tortures he endures by it!"

Consider what exquisite tortures he endures!


see how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips!"


[I would not read another line of it, quoth _Trim_, for all this _world_; --I fear, an' please your Honours, all this is in _Portugal_, where my poor brother _Tom_ is.

['I would not read another line,' quoth Trim, 'for the world; I fear all this is in Portugal, where my poor brother Tom is.'


I tell thee, _Trim_, again, quoth my father, 'tis not an historical account, --'tis a description.

'I tell thee, Trim,' quoth my father, ''tis not a history.'


--'Tis only a description, honest man, quoth _Slop_, there's not a word of truth in it.

'There's not a word of truth in it,' quoth Slop.


----That's another story, replied my father.

'That's another story,' replied my father.


--However, as _Trim_ reads it with so much concern, --'tis cruelty to force him to go on with it.

'However, 'tis cruelty to force Trim to go on.


--Give me hold of the sermon, _Trim_, --I'll finish it for thee, and thou may'st go.

Give me the sermon, Trim; I'll finish it, and thou may'st go.'


I must stay and hear it, too, replied _Trim_, if your Honour will allow me; --tho' I would not read it myself for a Colonel's pay.

'I must stay and hear it,' replied Trim.


------Poor _Trim!_ quoth my uncle _Toby_.


"----Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched, --what exquisite torture he endures by it!

'"- Consider what exquisite torture he endures!


See how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, --willing to take its leave, ----but not suffered to depart!

See how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, not suffered to depart!


--Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell!"

Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell!"'


----[Then, thank God, however, quoth _Trim_, they have not killed him.]

['Thank God,' quoth Trim, 'they have not killed him.']


-- "See him dragged out of it again to meet the flames, and the insults in his last agonies, which this principle, --this principle, that there can be religion without mercy, has prepared for him."

'"See him dragged out of it again to meet the flames in his last agonies, which this principle - that there can be religion without mercy - has prepared for him."'


----[Then, thank God, ----he is dead, quoth _Trim_, --he is out of his pain, --and they have done their worst at him.

['Thank God, he is dead,' quoth Trim, 'he is out of his pain.'


--Hold your peace, _Trim_, said my father, going on with the sermon, lest _Trim_ should incense Dr. _Slop_, --we shall never have done at this rate.]

'Hush, Trim,' said my father, lest Trim should incense Dr. Slop; 'we shall never have done at this rate.]


"The surest way to try the merit of any disputed notion is, to trace down the consequences such a notion has produced, and compare them with the spirit of Christianity; ----'tis the short and decisive rule which our Saviour hath left us, for these and such like cases, and it is worth a thousand arguments----_By their fruits ye shall know them._

'"The surest way to test the merit of any disputed notion is, to trace its consequences, and compare them with the spirit of Christianity; 'tis the rule which our Saviour hath left us, and it is worth a thousand arguments - By their fruits ye shall know them.


"I will add no farther to the length of this sermon, than by two or three short and independent rules deducible from it.

'"I will add no more, apart from two or three short rules deducible from this.


"_First_, Whenever a man talks loudly against religion, always suspect that it is not his reason, but his passions, which have got the better of his CREED.

'"First, whenever a man talks loudly against religion, always suspect that it is not his reason, but his passions speaking.


A bad life and a good belief are disagreeable and troublesome neighbours, and where they separate, depend upon it, 'tis for no other cause but quietness' sake.

A bad life and a good belief are troublesome neighbours.


"_Secondly_, When a man, thus represented, tells you in any particular instance, ----That such a thing goes against his conscience, ----always believe he means exactly the same thing, as when he tells you such a thing goes _against_ his stomach; --a present want of appetite being generally the true cause of both.

'"Secondly, when a man tells you that something goes against his conscience, believe he means exactly the same as when he tells you something goes against his stomach.


"In a word, --trust that man in nothing, who has not a CONSCIENCE in everything.

'"In a word, - trust that man in nothing, who has not a Conscience in everything.


"And, in your own case, remember this plain distinction, a mistake in which has ruined thousands, --that your conscience is not a law: --No, God and reason made the law, and have placed conscience within you to determine; ----not, like an _Asiatic_ Cadi, according to the ebbs and flows of his own passions, --but like a _British_ judge in this land of liberty and good sense, who makes no new law, but faithfully declares that law which he knows already written."

'"And, in your own case, remember that your conscience is not a law. God and reason made the law, and have placed conscience within you to determine - not according to the ebbs and flows of passion, but like a judge, who makes no new law, but faithfully declares that law which he knows already written.


Thou hast read the sermon extremely well, _Trim_, quoth my father.

'Thou hast read the sermon extremely well, Trim,' quoth my father.


--If he had spared his comments, replied Dr. _Slop_, ----he would have read it much better.

'If he had spared his comments,' replied Dr. Slop, 'he would have read it much better.'


I should have read it ten times better, Sir, answered _Trim_, but that my heart was so full.

'I should have read it ten times better, Sir,' answered Trim, 'but that my heart was so full.'


--That was the very reason, _Trim_, replied my father, which has made thee read the sermon as well as thou hast done; and if the clergy of our church, continued my father, addressing himself to Dr. _Slop_, would take part in what they deliver as deeply as this poor fellow has done, --as their compositions are fine; --[I deny it, quoth Dr. _Slop_]-- I maintain it, --that the eloquence of our pulpits, with such subjects to enflame it, would be a model for the whole world: ----But alas!

'That was the very reason, Trim,' replied my father, 'which made thee read the sermon so well; and if our clergy would feel as deeply as this poor fellow, the eloquence of our pulpits would be a model for the whole world.


continued my father, and I own it, Sir, with sorrow, that, like _French_ politicians in this respect, what they gain in the cabinet they lose in the field.


----'Twere a pity, quoth my uncle, that this should be lost.


I like the sermon well, replied my father, ----'tis dramatick, --and there is something in that way of writing, when skilfully managed, which catches the attention.

I like the sermon well, 'tis dramatic, and catches the attention.'


----We preach much in that way with us, said Dr. _Slop_.

'We preach much in that way,' said Dr. Slop.


--I know that very well, said my father, ----but in a tone and manner which disgusted Dr. _Slop_, full as much as his assent, simply, could have pleased him.

'I know that very well,' said my father, but in a tone which disgusted Dr. Slop.


----But in this, added Dr. _Slop_, a little piqued, --our sermons have greatly the advantage, that we never introduce any character into them below a patriarch or a patriarch's wife, or a martyr or a saint.

'But our sermons have the advantage,' said Dr. Slop, a little piqued, 'in that we never introduce any character into them below a patriarch, a martyr or a saint.'


--There are some very bad characters in this, however, said my father, and I do not think the sermon a jot the worse for 'em.

'There are some very bad characters in this,' said my father, 'but I do not think the sermon a jot worse for 'em.'


----But pray, quoth my uncle _Toby_, --who's can this be?

'But pray,' quoth my uncle Toby, 'whose can this be?


--How could it get into my _Stevinus?_ A man must be as great a conjurer as _Stevinus_, said my father, to resolve the second question: --The first, I think, is not so difficult; --for unless my judgment greatly deceives me, ----I know the author, for 'tis wrote, certainly, by the parson of the parish.

How could it get into my Stevinus?'
'In answer to the first question, I know the author,' quoth my father; 'for 'tis the parson of the parish.'


The similitude of the stile and manner of it, with those my father constantly had heard preached in his parish-church, was the ground of his conjecture, --proving it as strongly, as an argument _ priori_ could prove such a thing to a philosophic mind, That it was _Yorick's_ and no one's else: --It was proved to be so, _ posteriori_, the day after, when _Yorick_ sent a servant to my uncle _Toby's_ house to enquire after it.

The style of it matching those my father constantly heard preached in his parish-church, he guessed that it was Yorick's. - It was proved to be so the next day, when Yorick sent a servant to my uncle Toby's house to enquire after it.


It seems that _Yorick_, who was inquisitive after all kinds of knowledge, had borrowed _Stevinus_ of my uncle _Toby_, and had carelessly popped his sermon, as soon as he had made it, into the middle of _Stevinus_; and by an act of forgetfulness, to which he was ever subject, he had sent _Stevinus_ home, and his sermon to keep him company.

It seems that Yorick had borrowed Stevinus, and had carelessly popped his sermon, which he had just written, into the middle of it; and forgetfully sent Stevinus home with his sermon to keep him company.


Thou wast lost, after this recovery of thee, a second time, dropped thro' an unsuspected fissure in thy master's pocket, down into a treacherous and a tattered lining, --trod deep into the dirt by the left hind-foot of his Rosinante inhumanly stepping upon thee as thou falledst; --buried ten days in the mire, ----raised up out of it by a beggar, --sold for a halfpenny to a parish-clerk, ----transferred to his parson, ----lost for ever to thy own, the remainder of his days, ----nor restored to his restless MANES till this very moment, that I tell the world the story.

Thou wast lost, after this recovery, a second time, dropped through an unsuspected hole in thy master's pocket, down into a treacherous and tattered lining, - trod deep into the dirt by the hind-foot of his horse; buried ten days in the mire, - raised up out of it by a beggar - sold for a halfpenny to a parish-clerk, transferred to his parson, and lost for ever to thine owner; nor restored till this very moment that I tell the world the story.


Can the reader believe, that this sermon of _Yorick's_ was preached at an assize, in the cathedral of _York_, before a thousand witnesses, ready to give oath of it, by a certain prebendary of that church, and actually printed by him when he had done, ----and within so short a space as two years and three months after _Yorick's_ death?

Can the reader believe, that this sermon was preached in York cathedral before a thousand witnesses, by a certain prebendary of that church, and actually printed by him, only two years after Yorick's death?


--_Yorick_ indeed, was never better served in his life; ------but it was a little hard to maltreat him after, and plunder him after he was laid in his grave.

* Yorick indeed, was never better served in his life; but it was a little hard to plunder him after he was laid in his grave.


However, as the gentleman who did it was in perfect charity with _Yorick_, --and, in conscious justice, printed but a few copies to give away; --and that I am told he could moreover have made as good a one himself, had he thought fit, --I declare I would not have published this anecdote to the world; ----nor do I publish it with an intent to hurt his character and advancement in the church; ----I leave that to others; --but I find myself impelled by two reasons, which I cannot withstand.

However, as the gentleman who did it was in perfect agreement with Yorick, and printed copies to give away; - I do not tell this anecdote to hurt his character and advancement in the church; but find myself impelled by two reasons.


The first is, That in doing justice, I may give rest to _Yorick's_ ghost; ----which--as the country-people, and some others, believe, ----_still walks_.

The first is, that I may give rest to Yorick's ghost; which the country-people believe still walks.


The second reason is, That, by laying open this story to the world, I gain an opportunity of informing it, --That in case the character of parson _Yorick_, and this sample of his sermons, is liked, ----there are now in the possession of the _Shandy_ family, as many as will make a handsome volume, at the world's service, ----and much good may they do it.

The second reason is, that by telling this story to the world, I can inform it that if this sample of Yorick's sermons is liked, there are many more such sermons in the possession of the Shandy family, enough to make a handsome volume, at the world's service.
* Abridger's note: The Prebendary of York being one Laurence Sterne, who preached the sermon there in 1750.


You see 'tis high time, said my father, addressing himself equally to my uncle _Toby_ and _Yorick_, to take this young creature out of these women's hands, and put him into those of a private governor.

'You see 'tis high time,' said my father to my uncle Toby and Yorick, 'to take this young creature out of these women's hands, and put him into those of a private tutor.


_Marcus Antoninus_ provided fourteen governors all at once to superintend his son _Commodus's_ education, --and in six weeks he cashiered five of them; --I know very well, continued my father, that _Commodus's_ mother was in love with a gladiator at the time of her conception, which accounts for a great many of _Commodus's_ cruelties when he became emperor; --but still I am of opinion, that those five whom _Antoninus_ dismissed, did _Commodus's_ temper, in that short time, more hurt than the other nine were able to rectify all their lives long.

Marcus Antoninus had fourteen tutors at once to superintend his son Commodus's education, and in six weeks he dismissed five of them. I think that those five whom he dismissed did Commodus's temper, in that short time, more hurt than the other nine were able to rectify all their lives long.


Now as I consider the person who is to be about my son, as the mirror in which he is to view himself from morning to night, and by which he is to adjust his looks, his carriage, and perhaps the inmost sentiments of his heart; --I would have one, _Yorick_, if possible, polished at all points, fit for my child to look into.

'Now, when I consider the person who is to teach my son as the mirror in which my son will view himself from morning to night, and by which he is to adjust his looks, his demeanour, and perhaps the inmost sentiments of his heart; - I would like one, Yorick, polished at all points, fit for my child to look into.'


----This is very good sense, quoth my uncle _Toby_ to himself.

'This is very good sense,' quoth my uncle Toby to himself.


----There is, continued my father, a certain mien and motion of the body and all its parts, both in acting and speaking, which argues a man _well within_; and I am not at all surprised that _Gregory_ of _Nazianzum_, upon observing the hasty and untoward gestures of _Julian_, should foretel he would one day become an apostate; ----or that St. _Ambrose_ should turn his _Amanuensis_ out of doors, because of an indecent motion of his head, which went backwards and forwards like a flail; ----or that _Democritus_ should conceive _Protagoras_ to be a scholar, from seeing him bind up a faggot, and thrusting, as he did it, the small twigs inwards.

'There is,' continued my father, 'a certain mien and motion of the body, both in acting and speaking, which denotes a man is good within; and I am not surprised that Gregory of Nazianzum, upon observing the hasty gestures of Julian, should foretell he would one day become a heretic; or that St. Ambrose should turn his assistant out of doors, because of an indecent motion of his head, which went backwards and forwards like a flail.


----There are a thousand unnoticed openings, continued my father, which let a penetrating eye at once into a man's soul; and I maintain it, added he, that a man of sense does not lay down his hat in coming into a room, --or take it up in going out of it, but something escapes, which discovers him.

There are a thousand unnoticed openings which let a penetrating eye into a man's soul; and I maintain that a man does not so much as lay down his hat without revealing something of his nature.


It is for these reasons, continued my father, that the governor I make choice of shall neither[6.3] lisp, or squint, or wink, or talk loud, or look fierce, or foolish; ----or bite his lips, or grind his teeth, or speak through his nose, or pick it, or blow it with his fingers.----

'For these reasons, the tutor I choose shall neither lisp, squint, or wink, or talk loud, or look fierce, or foolish; - or bite his lips, or grind his teeth, or speak through his nose, or pick it, or blow it with his fingers.


He shall neither walk fast, --or slow, or fold his arms, --for that is laziness; --or hang them down, --for that is folly; or hide them in his pocket, for that is nonsense.----

'He shall neither walk fast, or slow, nor fold his arms, or hang them down, or hide them in his pocket.


He shall neither strike, or pinch, or tickle, --or bite, or cut his nails, or hawk, or spit, or snift, or drum with his feet or fingers in company; ----nor (according to _Erasmus_) shall he speak to any one in making water, --nor shall he point to carrion or excrement.

'He shall neither strike, or pinch, or tickle; or bite, or cut his nails, or hawk, or spit, or sniff, or drum his feet or fingers in company; nor (according to Erasmus) shall he speak to any one in urinating, nor point to carrion or excrement.'


----Now this is all nonsense again, quoth my uncle _Toby_ to himself.----

'Now this is all nonsense again,' quoth my uncle Toby to himself.


I will have him, continued my father, chearful, facet, jovial; at the same time, prudent, attentive to business, vigilant, acute, argute, inventive, quick in resolving doubts and speculative questions; ----he shall be wise, and judicious, and learned: ----And why not humble, and moderate, and gentle-tempered, and good?

'I will have him,' continued my father, 'cheerful and jovial; at the same time, prudent, vigilant, acute, inventive, quick in resolving doubts; - he shall be wise, judicious, and learned.'
'And why not humble, and moderate, and gentle-tempered and good?'


said _Yorick_: ----And why not, cried my uncle _Toby_, free, and generous, and bountiful, and brave?

said Yorick.
'And why not,' cried my uncle Toby, 'generous, and bountiful, and brave?'


----He shall, my dear _Toby_, replied my father, getting up and shaking him by the hand.

'He shall be, my dear Toby,' replied my father, getting up to shake his hand.


--Then, brother _Shandy_, answered my uncle _Toby_, raising himself off the chair, and laying down his pipe to take hold of my father's other hand, --I humbly beg I may recommend poor _Le Fever's_ son to you; ----a tear of joy of the first water sparkled in my uncle _Toby's_ eye, and another, the fellow to it, in the corporal's, as the proposition was made; ----you will see why when you read _Le Fever's_ story: ----fool that I was!

'Then, brother Shandy,' answered my uncle, 'I humbly beg to recommend poor Le Fever's son to you.' A tear of joy sparkled in my uncle Toby's eye, and another in the corporal's, as the proposition was made - you will see why when you read Le Fever's story. - Fool that I am!


nor can I recollect (nor perhaps you) without turning back to the place, what it was that hindered me from letting the corporal tell it in his own words; --but the occasion is lost, --I must tell it now in my own.

I cannot recollect what it was that hindered me from letting the corporal tell it in his own words; but I must tell it now in my own.


The sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in the village but _Le Fever's_ and his afflicted son's; the hand of death press'd heavy upon his eye-lids, ----and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle, --when my uncle _Toby_, who had rose up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by the bed-side, and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked him how he did, --how he had rested in the night, --what was his complaint, --where was his pain, --and what he could do to help him: ----and without giving him time to answer any one of the enquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting with the corporal the night before for him.----

The sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in the village but Le Fever's; the hand of death pressed heavy upon his eye-lids. My uncle Toby entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology sat down upon the chair by the bed-side, opened the curtain in the manner of an old friend and brother officer, and asked him how he did, - how he had rested, - where was his pain, - what he could do to help him: and without giving him time to answer any of the enquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he had made.

Book 6 - Chapter 10: THE STORY OF LE FEVER CONTINUED


----You shall go home directly, _Le Fever_, said my uncle _Toby_, to my house, --and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter, --and we'll have an apothecary, --and the corporal shall be your nurse; ----and I'll be your servant, _Le Fever_.

'You shall go to my house, Le Fever,' said my uncle Toby, 'and we'll send for a doctor, and an apothecary; and the corporal shall be your nurse - and I'll be your servant, Le Fever.'


There was a frankness in my uncle _Toby_, --not the _effect_ of familiarity, --but the _cause_ of it, --which let you at once into his soul, and shewed you the goodness of his nature; to this, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, superadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle _Toby_ had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father, had the son insensibly pressed up close to his knees, and had taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it towards him.

There was a frankness in my uncle Toby - not the effect of familiarity, but the cause of it - which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature. Additionally, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, which beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle Toby had half finished his kind offers to the father, the son had pressed up close to him, and had taken hold of his coat.


----The blood and spirits of _Le Fever_, which were waxing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart--rallied back, --the film forsook his eyes for a moment, --he looked up wishfully in my uncle _Toby's_ face, --then cast a look upon his boy, ----and that _ligament_, fine as it was, --was never broken.------

The blood and spirits of Le Fever, which were growing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart, rallied back. The film left his eyes for a moment: he looked up wishfully in my uncle Toby's face, then at his boy; and that look was never broken.


Nature instantly ebb'd again, --the film returned to its place, ----the pulse fluttered----stopp'd----went on----throbb'd----stopp'd again----moved----stopp'd----shall I go on?

Nature instantly ebbed again, - the film returned - the pulse fluttered - stopped - went on - stopped again - moved - stopped - shall I go on?


Tho' my father was a good natural philosopher, --yet he was something of a moral philosopher too; for which reason, when his tobacco-pipe snapp'd short in the middle, --he had nothing to do, as such, but to have taken hold of the two pieces, and thrown them gently upon the back of the fire.

When my father's tobacco-pipe snapped in the middle, he stood up and threw the pieces violently into the fire.


----He did no such thing; ----he threw them with all the violence in the world; --and, to give the action still more emphasis, --he started upon both his legs to do it.


This looked something like heat; --and the manner of his reply to what my uncle _Toby_ was saying, proved it was so.


--"Not choose," quoth my father, (repeating my uncle _Toby's_ words) "to let a man come so near her!"

'Not choose,' quoth he, (repeating my uncle Toby's words) 'to let a man come so near her!


----By Heaven, brother _Toby!_ you would try the patience of _Job_; --and I think I have the plagues of one already without it.

- By Heaven, brother Toby! you would try the patience of Job.'


replied my uncle _Toby_, in the utmost astonishment.


--To think, said my father, of a man living to your age, brother, and knowing so little about women!

'To think,' said my father, 'of a man living to your age, and knowing so little about women!'


----I know nothing at all about them, --replied my uncle _Toby_: And I think, continued he, that the shock I received the year after the demolition of _Dunkirk_, in my affair with widow _Wadman_; --which shock you know I should not have received, but from my total ignorance of the sex, --has given me just cause to say, That I neither know nor do pretend to know anything about 'em or their concerns either.

'I know nothing at all about them,' replied my uncle Toby. 'And I think that the shock I received the year after the demolition of Dunkirk, in my affair with widow Wadman - which shock you know was caused by my total ignorance of the sex - makes me say, that I do not pretend to know anything about 'em or their concerns.'


--Methinks, brother, replied my father, you might, at least, know so much as the right end of a woman from the wrong.

'Methinks, brother,' replied my father, 'you might, at least, know the right end of a woman from the wrong.'


It is said in _Aristotle's_ _Master Piece_, "That when a man doth think of anything which is past, ----he looketh down upon the ground; ----but that when he thinketh of something that is to come, he looketh up towards the heavens."

Aristotle says that when a man thinks of anything which is past, he looks down upon the ground; but when he thinks of something that is to come, he looks up.


My uncle _Toby_, I suppose, thought of neither, for he look'd horizontally.

My uncle Toby, I suppose, thought of neither, for he looked horizontally.


quoth my uncle _Toby_, muttering the two words low to himself, and fixing his two eyes insensibly as he muttered them, upon a small crevice, formed by a bad joint in the chimney-piece ----Right end of a woman!


----I declare, quoth my uncle, I know no more which it is than the man in the moon; ----and if I was to think, continued my uncle _Toby_ (keeping his eye still fixed upon the bad joint) this month together, I am sure I should not be able to find it out.

quoth he, muttering low, and fixing his eyes upon a crevice in the chimney-piece - 'I declare, I know no more which it is than the man in the moon.'


Then, brother _Toby_, replied my father, I will tell you.

'Then, brother Toby,' replied my father, 'I will tell you.


Everything in this world, continued my father (filling a fresh pipe)--every thing in this world, my dear brother _Toby_, has two handles.

Everything in this world, my dear brother, has two handles.'


----At least, replied my father, everyone has two hands, ----which comes to the same thing.

'Everyone has two hands,' replied my father, - 'which comes to the same thing.


----Now, if a man was to sit down coolly, and consider within himself the make, the shape, the construction, come-at-ability, and convenience of all the parts which constitute the whole of that animal, called Woman, and compare them analogically ----I never understood rightly the meaning of that word, --quoth my uncle _Toby_.--

Now, if a man was to sit down coolly, and consider the shape, the construction, come-at-ability, and convenience of all the parts which constitute a Woman, and compare them analogically-'
'I never understood the meaning of that word,' quoth my uncle Toby.


ANALOGY, replied my father, is the certain relation and agreement which different ----Here a devil of a rap at the door snapped my father's definition (like his tobacco-pipe) in two, --and, at the same time, crushed the head of as notable and curious a dissertation as ever was engendered in the womb of speculation; --it was some months before my father could get an opportunity to be safely delivered of it: --And, at this hour, it is a thing full as problematical as the subject of the dissertation itself, --(considering the confusion and distresses of our domestick misadventures, which are now coming thick one upon the back of another) whether I shall be able to find a place for it in the third volume or not.

'-Analogy,' replied my father, 'is the certain relation which different-'
Here a loud rap at the door snapped my father's definition (like his tobacco-pipe) in two, and, at the same time, crushed the head of a notable dissertation; - it was some months before my father could complete it. And it is problematical (considering the confusion of our domestic misadventures, now coming thick and fast) whether or not I shall be able to find a place for it in my third volume.


When we have got to the end of this chapter (but not before) we must all turn back to the two blank chapters, on the account of which my honour has lain bleeding this half hour ----I stop it, by pulling off one of my yellow slippers and throwing it with all my violence to the opposite side of my room, with a declaration at the heel of it----

When we have got to the end of this chapter (but not before) we must turn back to the two blank chapters, on the account of which my honour has lain bleeding this half hour. - I stop it by pulling off one of my yellow slippers and throwing it violently across my room, with a declaration at the heel of it-


----That whatever resemblance it may bear to half the chapters which are written in the world, or for aught I know may be now writing in it--that it was as casual as the foam of _Zeuxis_ his horse; besides, I look upon a chapter which has _only nothing in it_, with respect; and considering what worse things there are in the world ----That it is no way a proper subject for satire------

- That any resemblance it may bear to half the chapters which are written in the world is of no consequence; besides, I look upon a chapter which has nothing in it, with respect. Considering what worse things there are in the world, it is no way a proper subject for satire-


And here without staying for my reply, shall I be called as many blockheads, numsculs, doddypoles, dunderheads, ninny-hammers, goosecaps, joltheads, nincompoops, and sh- -t-a-beds---- and other unsavoury appellations, as ever the cake-bakers of _Lern_ cast in the teeth of King _Garangantan's_ shepherds ----And I'll let them do it, as _Bridget_ said, as much as they please; for how was it possible they should foresee the necessity I was under of writing the 25th chapter of my book, before the 18th, &c.?

And without waiting for my reply, shall I be called blockhead, numbskull, doddypole, dunderhead, ninny-hammer, nincompoop, sh_t-a-bed, and as many other unsavoury names as ever the cake-bakers of Lern called King Garangantan's shepherds - and I'll let them do it, as Bridget said, as much as they please; for how could they foresee that I needed to write the 25th chapter of my book before the 18th?


------So I don't take it amiss ----All I wish is, that it may be a lesson to the world, "_to let people tell their stories their own way_."

So I don't take it amiss. I merely wish that it may be a lesson to the world, 'to let people tell their stories their own way.'


There was not any one scene more entertaining in our family--and to do it justice in this point; ----and I here put off my cap and lay it upon the table close beside my ink-horn, on purpose to make my declaration to the world concerning this one article the more solemn----that I believe in my soul (unless my love and partiality to my understanding blinds me) the hand of the supreme Maker and first Designer of all things never made or put a family together (in that period at least of it which I have sat down to write the story of)----where the characters of it were cast or contrasted with so dramatick a felicity as ours was, for this end; or in which the capacities of affording such exquisite scenes, and the powers of shifting them perpetually from morning to night, were lodged and intrusted with so unlimited a confidence, as in the SHANDY FAMILY.

There was no scene more entertaining in our family - and I believe the supreme Maker never put a family together whose characters were contrasted with so dramatic a felicity as ours; or which afforded such exquisite scenes, as in the Shandy Family.


Not any one of these was more diverting, I say, in this whimsical theatre of ours----than what frequently arose out of this self-same chapter of long noses------especially when my father's imagination was heated with the enquiry, and nothing would serve him but to heat my uncle _Toby's_ too.

None of these was more diverting, I say, in this whimsical theatre of ours - than what frequently arose out of this chapter of long noses - especially when my father's imagination was heated with the enquiry, and nothing would serve him but to heat my uncle Toby's too.


My uncle _Toby_ would give my father all possible fair play in this attempt; and with infinite patience would sit smoaking his pipe for whole hours together, whilst my father was practising upon his head, and trying every accessible avenue to drive _Prignitz_ and _Scroderus's_ solutions into it.

My uncle Toby, with infinite patience, would sit smoking his pipe for hours, whilst my father was trying every way to drive Prignitz and Scroderus into his head.


Whether they were above my uncle _Toby's_ reason------or contrary to it------or that his brain was like _damp_ timber, and no spark could possibly take hold----or that it was so full of saps, mines, blinds, curtins, and such military disqualifications to his seeing clearly into _Prignitz_ and _Scroderus's_ doctrines ----I say not--let schoolmen--scullions, anatomists, and engineers, fight for it among themselves----

Whether they were above my uncle Toby's reason - or whether his brain was like damp timber, where no spark could possibly take hold - or that it was so full of saps, mines, curtins, and such military obstacles, I say not.


'Twas some misfortune, I make no doubt, in this affair, that my father had every word of it to translate for the benefit of my uncle _Toby_, and render out of _Slawkenbergius's_ _Latin_, of which, as he was no great master, his translation was not always of the purest----and generally least so where 'twas most wanted.

'Twas unfortunate, no doubt, that my father had to translate every word for my uncle's benefit; and as my father was no great master of Latin, his translation of Slawkenbergius was not always of the purest.


--This naturally open'd a door to a second misfortune; ----that in the warmer paroxysms of his zeal to open my uncle _Toby's_ eyes------my father's ideas ran on as much faster than the translation, as the translation outmoved my uncle _Toby's_------ neither the one or the other added much to the perspicuity of my father's lecture.

This naturally opened a door to a second misfortune; that in his zeal to persuade my uncle Toby, my father's ideas ran on as much faster than the translation, as the translation outran my uncle Toby: which added little to the clarity of my father's lecture.


Every day for at least ten years together did my father resolve to have it mended--'tis not mended yet; --no family but ours would have borne with it an hour----and what is most astonishing, there was not a subject in the world upon which my father was so eloquent, as upon that of door-hinges.

Every day for at least ten years my father resolved to have it mended - 'tis not mended yet; no other family would have borne with it an hour - and what is most astonishing, there was not a subject in the world upon which my father was so eloquent, as that of door-hinges.


----And yet at the same time, he was certainly one of the greatest bubbles to them, I think, that history can produce: his rhetorick and conduct were at perpetual handy-cuffs.

And yet his speech and actions were at perpetual handy-cuffs.


--Never did the parlour-door open--but his philosophy or his principles fell a victim to it; ----three drops of oil with a feather, and a smart stroke of a hammer, had saved his honour for ever.

Never did the parlour-door open, without his philosophy felling victim to it; yet three drops of oil, and a smart stroke of a hammer, would have solved it for ever.


----languishing under wounds, which he has the power to heal!

languishing under wounds which he has the power to heal!


--his whole life a contradiction to his knowledge!

- his whole life a contradiction to his knowledge!


--his reason, that precious gift of God to him--(instead of pouring in oil) serving but to sharpen his sensibilities--to multiply his pains, and render him more melancholy and uneasy under them --Poor unhappy creature, that he should do so!


----Are not the necessary causes of misery in this life enow, but he must add voluntary ones to his stock of sorrow; --struggle against evils which cannot be avoided, and submit to others, which a tenth part of the trouble they create him would remove from his heart for ever?

Are there not enough causes of misery in this life? Yet he adds more; he struggles against evils which cannot be avoided, and submits to others, which a tiny effort would remove.


By all that is good and virtuous, if there are three drops of oil to be got, and a hammer to be found within ten miles of _Shandy Hall_------the parlour door hinge shall be mended this reign.

By all that is virtuous, if there are three drops of oil to be got, and a hammer to be found within ten miles of Shandy Hall - the parlour door hinge shall be mended in this reign.


Did ever man, brother _Toby_, cried my father, raising himself upon his elbow, and turning himself round to the opposite side of the bed, where my uncle _Toby_ was sitting in his old fringed chair, with his chin resting upon his crutch----did ever a poor unfortunate man, brother _Toby_, cried my father, receive so many lashes?

'Did ever man, brother Toby,' cried my father, raising himself upon his elbow, and turning to face my uncle, who was sitting in his old fringed chair, with his chin resting upon his crutch - 'did ever a poor unfortunate man receive so many lashes?'


----The most I ever saw given, quoth my uncle _Toby_ (ringing the bell at the bed's head for _Trim_) was to a grenadier, I think in _Mackay's_ regiment.

'The most I ever saw given,' quoth my uncle Toby (ringing the bell for Trim) 'was to a grenadier, I think in Mackay's regiment.'


------Had my uncle _Toby_ shot a bullet through my father's heart, he could not have fallen down with his nose upon the quilt more suddenly.

Had my uncle Toby shot a bullet through my father's heart, he could not have fallen down with his nose upon the quilt more suddenly.


As there are fifty different ends (counting all ends in----as well civil as religious) for which a woman takes a husband, she first sets about and carefully weighs, then separates and distinguishes in her mind, which of all that number of ends is hers: then by discourse, enquiry, argumentation, and inference, she investigates and finds out whether she has got hold of the right one----and if she has----then, by pulling it gently this way and that way, she further forms a judgment, whether it will not break in the drawing.

As there are fifty different ends for which a woman takes a husband, she first carefully weighs them all: then by discourse, enquiry, and inference, she investigates whether she has got hold of the right one - and if she has - then, by pulling it gently this way and that, she decides whether or not it will not break.


The imagery under which _Slawkenbergius_ impresses this upon the reader's fancy, in the beginning of his third Decad, is so ludicrous, that the honour I bear the sex, will not suffer me to quote it----otherwise it is not destitute of humour.

The imagery under which Slawkenbergius impresses this upon the reader's fancy, in the beginning of his third Decad, is so ludicrous that the honour I bear the sex, will not allow me to quote it.


"She first, saith _Slawkenbergius_, stops the asse, and holding his halter in her left hand (lest he should get away) she thrusts her right hand into the very bottom of his pannier to search for it --For what?

'She first,' saith Slawkenbergius, 'stops the ass, and holding his halter in her left hand (lest he should get away) she thrusts her right hand into the very bottom of his pannier to search for it.'
'For what?'


--you'll not know the sooner, quoth _Slawkenbergius_, for interrupting me----

'You'll not know the sooner,' quoth Slawkenbergius, 'for interrupting me.


"I have nothing, good Lady, but empty bottles;" says the asse.

- "I have nothing, good Lady, but empty bottles," says the first ass.


'"I'm loaded with tripes;" says the second.


----And thou art little better, quoth she to the third; for nothing is there in thy panniers but trunk-hose and pantofles--and so to the fourth and fifth, going on one by one through the whole string, till coming to the asse which carries it, she turns the pannier upside down, looks at it--considers it--samples it--measures it--stretches it--wets it--dries it--then takes her teeth both to the warp and weft of it.

'"And thou art little better," quoth she to the third; "for there is nothing in thy panniers but trunk-hose and slippers" - and so to the fourth and fifth, going through the whole string of asses, till coming to the ass which carries it, she turns the pannier upside down, looks at it - considers it - measures it - stretches it - wets it - dries it - then takes her teeth to the warp and weft of it.'


I am determined, answered _Slawkenbergius_, that all the powers upon earth shall never wring that secret from my breast.

'I am determined,' answered Slawkenbergius, 'that all the powers upon earth shall never wring that secret from my breast.'


I know there are readers in the world, as well as many other good people in it, who are no readers at all, who find themselves ill at ease, unless they are let into the whole secret from first to last, of everything which concerns you.

I know there are readers who find themselves ill at ease unless they are let into the whole secret, from first to last, of everything which concerns you.


It is in pure compliance with this humour of theirs, and from a backwardness in my nature to disappoint any one soul living, that I have been so very particular already.

It is in order not to disappoint them that I have been so very particular already.


As my life and opinions are likely to make some noise in the world, and, if I conjecture right, will take in all ranks, professions, and denominations of men whatever, --be no less read than the _Pilgrim's Progress_ itself--and in the end, prove the very thing which _Montaigne_ dreaded his Essays should turn out, that is, a book for a parlour-window; --I find it necessary to consult every one a little in his turn; and therefore must beg pardon for going on a little farther in the same way: For which cause, right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself in the way I have done; and that I am able to go on, tracing everything in it, as _Horace_ says, _ab Ovo_.

As my life and opinions are likely to make some noise in the world, and will be no less read than the Pilgrim's Progress itself, I must beg pardon for going on a little further in the same way. Right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself like this; tracing everything, as Horace says, ab Ovo, or from the Egg.


_Horace_, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether: But that gentleman is speaking only of an epic poem or a tragedy; --(I forget which), --besides, if it was not so, I should beg Mr. _Horace's_ pardon; --for in writing what I have set about, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any man's rules that ever lived.

Horace, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether: but he is speaking of an epic poem or a tragedy (I forget which); - besides, begging Mr. Horace's pardon, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any other man's.


To such, however, as do not choose to go so far back into these things, I can give no better advice, than that they skip over the remaining part of this chapter; for I declare before-hand, 'tis wrote only for the curious and inquisitive.

To those, however, who do not choose to go so far back, I can only advise that they skip over the rest of this chapter; for 'tis wrote only for the curious and inquisitive.


-------------------------------------- I was begot in the night, betwixt the first _Sunday_ and the first _Monday_ in the month of _March_, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighteen.

I was begot in the night betwixt the first Sunday and the first Monday of March, 1718.


--But how I came to be so very particular in my account of a thing which happened before I was born, is owing to another small anecdote known only in our own family, but now made publick for the better clearing up this point.

, owing to another small anecdote known only in our family, but now made public to clear up this point.


My father, you must know, who was originally a _Turkey_ merchant, but had left off business for some years, in order to retire to, and die upon, his paternal estate in the county of ------, was, I believe, one of the most regular men in everything he did, whether 'twas matter of business, or matter of amusement, that ever lived.

My father, you must know, who was originally a Turkey merchant trading with the Levant, had left off business for some years, in order to retire to his estate in the country.
He was, I believe, one of the most regular men that ever lived in everything he did, whether business, or amusement.


As a small specimen of this extreme exactness of his, to which he was in truth a slave, --he had made it a rule for many years of his life, --on the first _Sunday-night_ of every month throughout the whole year, --as certain as ever the _Sunday-night_ came, ----to wind up a large house-clock, which we had standing on the back-stairs head, with his own hands: --And being somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age at the time I have been speaking of, --he had likewise gradually brought some other little family concernments to the same period, in order, as he would often say to my uncle _Toby_, to get them all out of the way at one time, and be no more plagued and pestered with them the rest of the month.

For example, he had made it a rule for many years, on the first Sunday-night of every month, to wind up a large clock which we had standing on the back-stairs. And being somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age at the time, he had likewise gradually brought some other little marital concerns to the same day - in order, as he would often say to my uncle Toby, to get them all out of the way at the same time, and be no more plagued and pestered with them the rest of the month.


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

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


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

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


However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all possibility of doubt.

However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all doubt.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


----bring out the horses----grease the wheels--tie on the mail----and drive a nail into that moulding ----I'll not lose a moment----

- bring out the horses - grease the wheels - tie on the mail - I'll not lose a moment-


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

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


I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever I dare tell my dear _Jenny_) for their " , "---- [their] "_getting out of the body, in order to think well_."

I love the Pythagoreans (much more than ever I dare tell my dear Jenny) for their 'getting out of the body, in order to think well.'


No man thinks right, whilst he is in it; blinded as he must be, with his congenial humours, and drawn differently aside, as the bishop and myself have been, with too lax or too tense a fibre ----REASON is, half of it, SENSE; and the measure of heaven itself is but the measure of our present appetites and concoctions----

No man thinks right, whilst he is in it; blinded as he must be, with his humours, and either too lax or too tense. - Reason is half Sensation; and the measure of heaven itself is but the measure of our present appetites-


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

'If I might presume to differ from your honour


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


--Then I would begin, an' please your honour, with making a good thundering attack upon her, in return--and telling her civilly afterwards--for if she knows anything of your honour's being in love, before hand ----L--d help her!

 - I would begin with making a good thundering attack upon her, in return - and telling her civilly afterwards. For if she knows anything of your honour's being in love, beforehand-'
'L__d help her!


--she knows no more at present of it, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_--than the child unborn------

she knows no more of it,' said my uncle Toby, 'than the child unborn.'


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


----_Paris!_ cried I, repeating the name the third time----


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

'The first, the finest, the most brilliant-


But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells----crack, crack----crack, crack----what a fuss thou makest!

'But I suppose it looks better than it smells.'
Crack, crack - crack, crack - what a fuss thou makest!


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

as if the good people needed to be informed that a man with a pale face and clad in black was driven into Paris at nine o'clock by a postilion in a tawny yellow jerkin-
Crack, crack - crack, crack - I wish thy whip-


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

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


- and no one gives you space by the wall!


----but in the SCHOOL of URBANITY herself, if the walls are besh-t--how can you do otherwise?

but if the walls are besh _t, - how can you do otherwise?


And prithee when do they light the lamps?


sallad and soup--soup and sallad--sallad and soup, _encore_----

salad and soup - soup and salad - salad and soup, encore-


Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can that unconscionable coachman talk so much bawdy to that lean horse?

How can that coachman swear so lewdly to that lean horse?


don't you see, friend, the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room in all _Paris_ to turn a wheelbarrow?

don't you see, friend, the streets are so villainously narrow, that there is not room to turn a wheelbarrow?


In the grandest city of the whole world, it would not have been amiss, if they had been left a thought wider; nay, were it only so much in every single street, as that a man might know (was it only for satisfaction) on which side of it he was walking.

In the grandest city of the world, it would not have been amiss if they had been a touch wider; if only so that a man in the street might know on which side of it he was walking.


one would think that all the cooks in the world, on some great merry-meeting with the barbers, by joint consent had said --Come, let us all go live at _Paris_: the _French_ love good eating----they are all _gourmands_----we shall rank high; if their god is their belly----their cooks must be gentlemen: and forasmuch as _the periwig maketh the man_, and the periwig-maker maketh the periwig--_ergo_, would the barbers say, we shall rank higher still--we shall be above you all--we shall be _Capitouls_[7.2] at least--_pardi!_ we shall all wear swords----

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


--I thought as much, said my father, tucking up his night-gown; --and so walked up stairs.

'I thought as much,' said my father, tucking up his night-gown, and walking up stairs.


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

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


--I have but two reasons for thinking otherwise.

I have just two reasons for thinking otherwise.


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

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


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

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


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

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


I know it will be said, continued my father (availing himself of the _Prolepsis_), that in itself, and simply taken----like hunger, or thirst, or sleep----'tis an affair neither good or bad--or shameful or otherwise.

'I know it will be said,' continued my father, 'that in itself, and simply taken - like hunger, or thirst, or sleep - 'tis neither good or bad - neither shameful or otherwise.


----Why then did the delicacy of _Diogenes_ and _Plato_ so recalcitrate against it?

Why then did the delicacy of Diogenes and Plato so revolt against it?


and wherefore, when we go about to make and plant a man, do we put out the candle?

and why, when we are about to plant a child, do we put out the candle?


and for what reason is it, that all the parts thereof--the congredients--the preparations--the instruments, and whatever serves thereto, are so held as to be conveyed to a cleanly mind by no language, translation, or periphrasis whatever?

and why are all the parts thereof held to be impossible to convey cleanly by any language or translation?


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


Therefore when _Obadiah's_ wife was brought to bed--_Obadiah_ thanked God----

Therefore when Obadiah's wife was brought to bed of a child, Obadiah thanked God.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


replied my father, turning to Doctor _Slop_.

replied my father, turning to Doctor Slop.


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

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


----It is as hairy as I am; said _Obadiah_.


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

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


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

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


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

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


Though man is of all others the most curious vehicle, said my father, yet at the same time 'tis of so slight a frame, and so totteringly put together, that the sudden jerks and hard jostlings it unavoidably meets with in this rugged journey, would overset and tear it to pieces a dozen times a day----was it not, brother _Toby_, that there is a secret spring within us.

'Though man is so curious a vehicle,' said my father, 'yet his frame is so slight, and so totteringly put together, that the sudden jostlings it unavoidably meets with in this rugged journey, would tear it to pieces a dozen times a day - were it not, brother Toby, that there is a secret spring within us.'


--Which spring, said my uncle _Toby_, I take to be Religion.

'I take it you mean Religion,' said my uncle Toby.


cried my father, letting go his finger, and striking one hand against the other.


----It makes everything straight for us, answered my uncle _Toby_.

'It makes everything straight for us,' answered my uncle Toby.


----Figuratively speaking, dear _Toby_, it may, for aught I know, said my father; but the spring I am speaking of, is that great and elastic power within us of counterbalancing evil, which, like a secret spring in a well-ordered machine, though it can't prevent the shock----at least it imposes upon our sense of it.

'Figuratively speaking, dear Toby, it may,' said my father; 'but the spring I am speaking of, is that great power within us of counterbalancing evil, which, like a secret spring in a well-ordered machine, though it can't prevent the shock - at least it deadens our sense of it.


Now, my dear brother, said my father, replacing his forefinger, as he was coming closer to the point----had my child arrived safe into the world, unmartyr'd in that precious part of him--fanciful and extravagant as I may appear to the world in my opinion of christian names, and of that magic bias which good or bad names irresistibly impress upon our characters and conducts --Heaven is witness!

'Now, my dear brother,' continued my father, replacing his forefinger, 'if my child had arrived safe into the world, with his nose intact - fanciful as I may appear in my opinion of christian names, and of that magic bias which good or bad names impress upon our characters - Heaven is witness!


that in the warmest transports of my wishes for the prosperity of my child, I never once wished to crown his head with more glory and honour than what GEORGE or EDWARD would have spread around it.

in my warmest wishes for my child, I never wished to crown his head with more glory and honour than George or Edward would have bestowed on him.


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

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


He shall be christened _Trismegistus_, brother.


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

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


In the case of _knots_, --by which, in the first place, I would not be understood to mean slip-knots--because in the course of my life and opinions--my opinions concerning them will come in more properly when I mention the catastrophe of my great uncle Mr. _Hammond Shandy_, --a little man, --but of high fancy: --he rushed into the duke of _Monmouth's_ affair: ----nor, secondly, in this place, do I mean that particular species of knots called bow-knots; --there is so little address, or skill, or patience required in the unloosing them, that they are below my giving any opinion at all about them.

In the case of knots, - by which, in the first place, I do not mean slip-knots - because in the course of my life and opinions- my opinions concerning them will come in more properly when I mention the catastrophe of my great uncle Mr. Hammond Shandy, a little man, but of high fancy - he rushed into the duke of Monmouth's affair:- secondly, nor do I mean bow-knots; there is so little skill required to unloose them that they are beneath my notice.


--But by the knots I am speaking of, may it please your reverences to believe, that I mean good, honest, devilish tight, hard knots, made _bona fide_, as _Obadiah_ made his; ----in which there is no quibbling provision made by the duplication and return of the two ends of the strings thro' the annulus or noose made by the second _implication_ of them--to get them slipp'd and undone by.

But by knots I mean good, honest, devilish tight, hard knots, like Obadiah's; - in which there is no quibbling provision made by the duplication and return of the two ends of the strings through the annulus, to get them undone by.


In the case of these _knots_ then, and of the several obstructions, which, may it please your reverences, such knots cast in our way in getting through life----every hasty man can whip out his penknife and cut through them.

In the case of these knots, and of the obstructions such knots cast in our way through life - every hasty man can whip out his penknife and cut through them.


Believe me, Sirs, the most virtuous way, and which both reason and conscience dictate----is to take our teeth or our fingers to them.

Believe me, Sirs, the most virtuous way is to take our teeth or our fingers to them.