The life and opinions of Tristram Shandy, gentleman
degrees that nice sense and perception with which God and nature
endowed it:—Did this never happen;—or was it certain that self-love
could never hang the least bias upon the judgment;—or that the little
interests below could rise up and perplex the faculties of our upper
regions, and encompass them about with clouds and thick
darkness:——Could no such thing as favour and affection enter this
sacred Court—Did WIT disdain “to take a bribe in it;—or was ashamed to
shew its face as an advocate for an unwarrantable enjoyment: Or,
lastly, were we assured that INTEREST stood always unconcerned whilst
the cause was hearing—and that Passion never got into the
judgment-seat, and pronounced sentence in the stead of Reason, which is
supposed always to preside and determine upon the case:—Was this truly
so, as the objection must suppose;—no doubt then the religious and
moral state of a man would be exactly what he himself esteemed it:—and
the guilt or innocence of every man’s life could be known, in general,
by no better measure, than the degrees of his own approbation and
censure.
“I own, in one case, whenever a man’s conscience does accuse him (as it
seldom errs on that side) that he is guilty;—and unless in melancholy
and hypocondriac cases, we may safely pronounce upon it, that there is
always sufficient grounds for the accusation.
“But the converse of the proposition will not hold true;—namely, that
whenever there is guilt, the conscience must accuse; and if it does
not, that a man is therefore innocent.——This is not fact——So that the
common consolation which some good christian or other is hourly
administering to himself,—that he thanks God his mind does not misgive
him; and that, consequently, he has a good conscience, because he hath
a quiet one,—is fallacious;—and as current as the inference is, and as
infallible as the rule appears at first sight, yet when you look nearer
to it, and try the truth of this rule upon plain facts,——you see it
liable to so much error from a false application;——the principle upon
which it goes so often perverted;——the whole force of it lost, and
sometimes so vilely cast away, that it is painful to produce the common
examples from human life, which confirm the account.
“A man shall be vicious and utterly “debauched in his
principles;—exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall live
shameless, in the open commission of a sin which no reason or pretence
can justify,——a sin by which, contrary to all the workings of humanity,
he shall ruin for ever the deluded partner of his guilt;—rob her of her
best dowry; and not only cover her own head with dishonour;—but involve
a whole virtuous family in shame and sorrow for her sake. Surely, you
will think conscience must lead such a man a troublesome life; he can
have no rest night and day from its reproaches.
“Alas! Conscience had something else to do all this time, than break in
upon him; as _Elijah_ reproached the god _Baal_,——this domestic god
_was either talking, or pursuing, or was in a journey, or peradventure
he slept and could not be awoke._
“Perhaps HE was gone out in company with HONOUR to fight a duel: to pay
off some debt at play;——or “dirty annuity, the bargain of his lust;
Perhaps CONSCIENCE all this time was engaged at home, talking aloud
against petty larceny, and executing vengeance upon some such puny
crimes as his fortune and rank of life secured him against all
temptation of committing; so that he lives as merrily;”——[If he was of
our church, tho’, quoth Dr. _Slop_, he could not]—“sleeps as soundly in
his bed;—and at last meets death unconcernedly;—perhaps much more so,
than a much better man.”
[All this is impossible with us, quoth Dr. _Slop_, turning to my
father,—the case could not happen in our church.—It happens in ours,
however, replied my father, but too often.——I own, quoth Dr. _Slop_,
(struck a little with my father’s frank acknowledgment)—that a man in
the _Romish_ church may live as badly;—but then he cannot easily die
so.——’Tis little matter, replied my father, with an air of
indifference,—how a rascal dies.—I mean, answered Dr. _Slop_, he would
be denied the benefits of the last sacraments.—Pray how many have you
in all, said my uncle _Toby_,——for I always forget?——Seven, answered
Dr. _Slop._——Humph!—said my uncle _Toby_; tho’ not accented as a note
of acquiescence,—but as an interjection of that particular species of
surprize, when a man in looking into a drawer, finds more of a thing
than he expected.——Humph! replied my uncle _Toby._ Dr. _Slop_, who had
an ear, understood my uncle _Toby_ as well as if he had wrote a whole
volume against the seven sacraments.——Humph! replied Dr. _Slop_,
(stating my uncle _Toby_’s argument over again to him)——Why, Sir, are
there not seven cardinal virtues?——Seven mortal sins?——Seven golden
candlesticks?——Seven heavens?—’Tis more than I know, replied my uncle
_Toby._——Are there not seven wonders of the world?——Seven days of the
creation?——Seven planets?——Seven plagues?——That there are, quoth my
father with a most affected gravity. But prithee, continued he, go on
with the rest of thy characters, _Trim._]
“Another is sordid, unmerciful,” (here _Trim_ waved his right hand) “a
strait-hearted, selfish wretch, incapable either of private friendship
or public spirit. Take notice how he passes by the widow and orphan in
their distress, and sees all the miseries incident to human life
without a sigh or a prayer.” [An’ please your honours, cried _Trim_, I
think this a viler man than the other.]
“Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such occasions?——No;
thank God there is no occasion, _I pay every man his own;—I have no
fornication to answer to my conscience;—no faithless vows or promises
to make up;—I have debauched no man’s wife or child; thank God, I am
not as other men, adulterers, unjust, or even as this libertine, who
stands before me._
“A third is crafty and designing in his nature. View his whole
life;—’tis nothing but a cunning contexture “of dark arts and
unequitable subterfuges, basely to defeat the true intent of all
laws,——plain dealing and the safe enjoyment of our several
properties.——You will see such a one working out a frame of little
designs upon the ignorance and perplexities of the poor and needy
man;—shall raise a fortune upon the inexperience of a youth, or the
unsuspecting temper of his friend, who would have trusted him with his
life.
“When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look back upon this
black account, and state it over again with his conscience—CONSCIENCE
looks into the STATUTES AT LARGE;—finds no express law broken by what
he has done;—perceives no penalty or forfeiture of goods and chattels
incurred;—sees no scourge waving over his head, or prison opening his
gates upon him:—What is there to affright his conscience?—Conscience
has got safely entrenched behind the Letter of the Law; sits “there
invulnerable, fortified with Cases and Reports so strongly on all
sides;—that it is not preaching can dispossess it of its hold.”
[Here Corporal _Trim_ and my uncle _Toby_ exchanged looks with each
other.—Aye, Aye, _Trim!_ quoth my uncle _Toby_, shaking his
head,——these are but sorry fortifications, _Trim._———O! very poor work,
answered _Trim_, to what your Honour and I make of it.——The character
of this last man, said Dr. _Slop_, interrupting _Trim_, is more
detestable than all the rest; and seems to have been taken from some
pettifogging Lawyer amongst you:—Amongst us, a man’s conscience could
not possibly continue so long _blinded_,——three times in a year, at
least, he must go to confession. Will that restore it to sight? quoth
my uncle _Toby_,——Go on, _Trim_, quoth my father, or _Obadiah_ will
have got back before thou has got to the end of thy sermon.——’Tis a
very short one, replied _Trim._—I wish it was longer, quoth my uncle
_Toby_, for I like it hugely.—_Trim_ went on.]
“A fourth man shall want even this refuge;—shall break through all
their ceremony of slow chicane;—scorns the doubtful workings of secret
plots and cautious trains to bring about his purpose:——See the
bare-faced villain, how he cheats, lies, perjures, robs,
murders!—Horrid!—But indeed much better was not to be expected, in the
present case—the poor man was in the dark!——his priest had got the
keeping of his conscience;——and all he would let him know of it, was,
That he must believe in the Pope;—go to Mass;—cross himself;—tell his
beads;—be a good Catholic, and that this, in all conscience, was enough
to carry him to heaven. What;—if he perjures?—Why;—he had a mental
reservation in it.—But if he is so wicked and abandoned a wretch as you
represent him;—if he robs,—if he stabs, will not conscience, “on every
such act, receive a wound itself?—Aye,—but the man has carried it to
confession;—the wound digests there, and will do well enough, and in a
short time be quite healed up by absolution. O Popery! what hast thou
to answer for!——when not content with the too many natural and fatal
ways, thro’ which the heart of man is every day thus treacherous to
itself above all things;—thou hast wilfully set open the wide gate of
deceit before the face of this unwary traveller, too apt, God knows, to
go astray of himself, and confidently speak peace to himself, when
there is no peace.
“Of this the common instances which I have drawn out of life, are too
notorious to require much evidence. If any man doubts the reality of
them, or thinks it impossible for a man to be such a bubble to
himself,—I must refer him a moment to his own reflections, and will
then venture to trust my appeal with his own heart.
“Let him consider in how different a degree of detestation, numbers of
wicked actions stand _there_, tho’ equally bad and vicious in their own
natures;—he will soon find, that such of them as strong inclination and
custom have prompted him to commit, are generally dressed out and
painted with all the false beauties which a soft and a flattering hand
can give them;—and that the others, to which he feels no propensity,
appear, at once, naked and deformed, surrounded with all the true
circumstances of folly and dishonour.
“When _David_ surprized _Saul_ sleeping in the cave, and cut off the
skirt of his robe—we read his heart smote him for what he had
done:——But in the matter of _Uriah_, where a faithful and gallant
servant, whom he ought to have loved and honoured, fell to make way for
his lust,—where conscience had so much greater reason to take the
alarm, his heart smote him not. A whole year had almost passed “from
first commission of that crime, to the time _Nathan_ was sent to
reprove him; and we read not once of the least sorrow or compunction of
heart which he testified, during all that time, for what he had done.
“Thus conscience, this once able monitor,——placed on high as a judge
within us, and intended by our maker as a just and equitable one
too,—by an unhappy train of causes and impediments, takes often such
imperfect cognizance of what passes,——does its office so
negligently,——sometimes so corruptly,—that it is not to be trusted
alone; and therefore we find there is a necessity, an absolute
necessity, of joining another principle with it, to aid, if not govern,
its determinations.
“So that if you would form a just judgment of what is of infinite
importance to you not to be misled in,—namely, in what degree of real
merit you stand either as an honest man, an useful citizen, a faithful
subject to your king, “or a good servant to your God,——call in religion
and morality.—Look, What is written in the law of God?——How readest
thou?—Consult calm reason and the unchangeable obligations of justice
and truth;——what say they?
“Let CONSCIENCE determine the matter upon these reports;——and then if