The life and opinions of Tristram Shandy, gentleman

——You do? said my father, rising up. C H A P. XLIII MY father took a single turn across the room, then sat down, and finished the chapter. The verbs auxiliary we are concerned in here, continued my father, are, _am; was; have; had; do; did; make; made; suffer; shall; should; will; would; can; could; owe; ought; used;_ or _is wont._—And these varied with tenses, _present, past, future_, and _conjugated_ with the verb _see_,—or with these questions added to them;—_Is it? Was it? Will it be? Would it be? May it be? Might it be?_ And these again put negatively, _Is it not? Was it not? Ought it not?_—Or affirmatively,—_It is; It was; It ought to be._ Or chronologically,—_Has it been always? Lately? How long ago?_—Or hypothetically,—_If it was? If it was not?_ What would follow?—If the _French_ should beat the _English?_ If the _Sun_ go out of the _Zodiac?_ Now, by the right use and application of these, continued my father, in which a child’s memory should be exercised, there is no one idea can enter his brain, how barren soever, but a magazine of conceptions and conclusions may be drawn forth from it.——Didst thou ever see a white bear? cried my father, turning his head round to _Trim_, who stood at the back of his chair:—No, an’ please your honour, replied the corporal.——But thou couldst discourse about one, _Trim_, said my father, in case of need?——How is it possible, brother, quoth my uncle _Toby_, if the corporal never saw one?——’Tis the fact I want, replied my father,—and the possibility of it is as follows. A WHITE BEAR! Very well. Have I ever seen one? Might I ever have seen one? Am I ever to see one? Ought I ever to have seen one? Or can I ever see one? Would I had seen a white bear! (for how can I imagine it?) If I should see a white bear, what should I say? If I should never see a white bear, what then? If I never have, can, must, or shall see a white bear alive; have I ever seen the skin of one? Did I ever see one painted?—described? Have I never dreamed of one? Did my father, mother, uncle, aunt, brothers or sisters, ever see a white bear? What would they give? How would they behave? How would the white bear have behaved? Is he wild? Tame? Terrible? Rough? Smooth? —Is the white bear worth seeing?— —Is there no sin in it?— Is it better than a BLACK ONE? C H A P. XLIV ——WE’LL not stop two moments, my dear Sir,—only, as we have got through these five volumes[29], (do, Sir, sit down upon a set——they are better than nothing) let us just look back upon the country we have pass’d through.—— ——What a wilderness has it been! and what a mercy that we have not both of us been lost, or devoured by wild beasts in it! Did you think the world itself, Sir, had contained such a number of Jack Asses?——How they view’d and review’d us as we passed over the rivulet at the bottom of that little valley!——and when we climbed over that hill, and were just getting out of sight—good God! what a braying did they all set up together! ——Prithee, shepherd! who keeps all those Jack Asses? * * * ——Heaven be their comforter——What! are they never curried?——Are they never taken in in winter?——Bray bray—bray. Bray on,—the world is deeply your debtor;——louder still—that’s nothing:—in good sooth, you are ill-used:——Was I a Jack Asse, I solemnly declare, I would bray in G-sol-re-ut from morning, even unto night. [29] In the first edition, the sixth volume began with this chapter. C H A P. XLV WHEN my father had danced his white bear backwards and forwards through half a dozen pages, he closed the book for good an’ all,—and in a kind of triumph redelivered it into _Trim_’s hand, with a nod to lay it upon the ’scrutoire, where he found it.——_Tristram_, said he, shall be made to conjugate every word in the dictionary, backwards and forwards the same way;——every word, _Yorick_, by this means, you see, is converted into a thesis or an hypothesis;—every thesis and hypothesis have an off-spring of propositions;—and each proposition has its own consequences and conclusions; every one of which leads the mind on again, into fresh tracks of enquiries and doubtings.——The force of this engine, added my father, is incredible in opening a child’s head.——’Tis enough, brother _Shandy_, cried my uncle _Toby_, to burst it into a thousand splinters.—— I presume, said _Yorick_, smiling,—it must be owing to this,—(for let logicians say what they will, it is not to be accounted for sufficiently from the bare use of the ten predicaments)——That the famous _Vincent Quirino_, amongst the many other astonishing feats of his childhood, of which the Cardinal _Bembo_ has given the world so exact a story,—should be able to paste up in the public schools at _Rome_, so early as in the eighth year of his age, no less than four thousand five hundred and fifty different theses, upon the most abstruse points of the most abstruse theology;—and to defend and maintain them in such sort, as to cramp and dumbfound his opponents.——What is that, cried my father, to what is told us of _Alphonsus Tostatus_, who, almost in his nurse’s arms, learned all the sciences and liberal arts without being taught any one of them?——What shall we say of the great _Piereskius?_—That’s the very man, cried my uncle _Toby_, I once told you of, brother _Shandy_, who walked a matter of five hundred miles, reckoning from _Paris_ to _Shevling_, and from _Shevling_ back again, merely to see _Stevinus_’s flying chariot.——He was a very great man! added my uncle _Toby_ (meaning _Stevinus_)—He was so, brother _Toby_, said my father (meaning _Piereskius_)——and had multiplied his ideas so fast, and increased his knowledge to such a prodigious stock, that, if we may give credit to an anecdote concerning him, which we cannot withhold here, without shaking the authority of all anecdotes whatever—at seven years of age, his father committed entirely to his care the education of his younger brother, a boy of five years old,—with the sole management of all his concerns.—Was the father as wise as the son? quoth my uncle _Toby:_—I should think not, said _Yorick:_—But what are these, continued my father—(breaking out in a kind of enthusiasm)—what are these, to those prodigies of childhood in _Grotius, Scioppius, Heinsius, Politian, Pascal, Joseph Scaliger, Ferdinand de Cordouè_, and others—some of which left off their _substantial forms_ at nine years old, or sooner, and went on reasoning without them;—others went through their classics at seven;—wrote tragedies at eight;—_Ferdinand de Cordouè_ was so wise at nine,—’twas thought the Devil was in him;—and at _Venice_ gave such proofs of his knowledge and goodness, that the monks imagined he was _Antichrist_, or nothing.——Others were masters of fourteen languages at ten,—finished the course of their rhetoric, poetry, logic, and ethics, at eleven,—put forth their commentaries upon _Servius_ and _Martianus Capella_ at twelve,—and at thirteen received their degrees in philosophy, laws, and divinity:——but you forget the great _Lipsius_, quoth _Yorick_, who composed a work[30] the day he was born:——They should have wiped it up, said my uncle _Toby_, and said no more about it. [30] Nous aurions quelque interêt, says _Baillet_, de montrer qu’il n’a rien de ridicule s’il étoit veritable, au moins dans le sens énigmatique que _Nicius Erythræus_ a tâ hé de lui donner. Cet auteur dit que pour comprendre comme _Lipse_, il a pû composer un ouvrage le premier jour de sa vie, il faut s’imaginer, que ce premier jour n’est pas celui de sa naissance charnelle, mais celui au quel il a commencé d’user de la raison; il veut que ç’ait été à l’âge de _neuf_ ans; et il nous veut persuader que ce fut en cet âge, que _Lipse_ fit un poëme.——Le tour est ingénieux, &c. &c. C H A P. XLVI WHEN the cataplasm was ready, a scruple of _decorum_ had unseasonably rose up in _Susannah_’s conscience, about holding the candle, whilst _Slop_ tied it on; _Slop_ had not treated _Susannah_’s distemper with anodynes,—and so a quarrel had ensued betwixt them. ——Oh! oh!——said _Slop_, casting a glance of undue freedom in _Susannah_’s face, as she declined the office;——then, I think I know you, madam——You know me, Sir! cried _Susannah_ fastidiously, and with a toss of her head, levelled evidently, not at his profession, but at the doctor himself,——you know me! cried _Susannah_ again.——Doctor _Slop_ clapped his finger and his thumb instantly upon his nostrils;——_Susannah_’s spleen was ready to burst at it;——’Tis false, said _Susannah._—Come, come, Mrs. Modesty, said _Slop_, not a little elated with the success of his last thrust,——If you won’t hold the candle, and look—you may hold it and shut your eyes:—That’s one of your popish shifts, cried _Susannah:_—’Tis better, said _Slop_, with a nod, than no shift at all, young woman;——I defy you, Sir, cried _Susannah_, pulling her shift sleeve below her elbow. It was almost impossible for two persons to assist each other in a surgical case with a more splenetic cordiality. _Slop_ snatched up the cataplasm——_Susannah_ snatched up the candle;——A little this way, said _Slop;_ _Susannah_ looking one way, and rowing another, instantly set fire to _Slop_’s wig, which being somewhat bushy and unctuous withal, was burnt out before it was well kindled.——You impudent whore! cried _Slop_,—(for what is passion, but a wild beast?)—you impudent whore, cried _Slop_, getting upright, with the cataplasm in his hand;——I never was the destruction of any body’s nose, said _Susannah_,—which is more than you can say:——Is it? cried _Slop_, throwing the cataplasm in her face;——Yes, it is, cried _Susannah_, returning the compliment with what was left in the pan. C H A P. XLVII DOCTOR _Slop_ and _Susannah_ filed cross-bills against each other in the parlour; which done, as the cataplasm had failed, they retired into the kitchen to prepare a fomentation for me;—and whilst that was doing, my father determined the point as you will read. C H A P. XLVIII 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. _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. 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, 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.——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,