The life and opinions of Tristram Shandy, gentleman
heart’s content.
Vain science! thou assistest us in no case of this kind—and thou
puzzlest us in every one.
There was, Madam, in my uncle _Toby_, a singleness of heart which
misled him so far out of the little serpentine tracks in which things
of this nature usually go on; you can—you can have no conception of it:
with this, there was a plainness and simplicity of thinking, with such
an unmistrusting ignorance of the plies and foldings of the heart of
woman;——and so naked and defenceless did he stand before you, (when a
siege was out of his head,) that you might have stood behind any one of
your serpentine walks, and shot my uncle _Toby_ ten times in a day,
through his liver, if nine times in a day, Madam, had not served your
purpose.
With all this, Madam,—and what confounded every thing as much on the
other hand, my uncle _Toby_ had that unparalleled modesty of nature I
once told you of, and which, by the bye, stood eternal sentry upon his
feelings, that you might as soon——But where am I going? these
reflections crowd in upon me ten pages at least too soon, and take up
that time, which I ought to bestow upon facts.
C H A P. LXXIII
OF the few legitimate sons of _Adam_ whose breasts never felt what the
sting of love was,—(maintaining first, all mysogynists to be
bastards,)—the greatest heroes of ancient and modern story have carried
off amongst them nine parts in ten of the honour; and I wish for their
sakes I had the key of my study, out of my draw-well, only for five
minutes, to tell you their names—recollect them I cannot—so be content
to accept of these, for the present, in their stead.
There was the great king _Aldrovandus_, and _Bosphorus_, and
_Cappadocius_, and _Dardanus_, and _Pontus_, and _Asius_,——to say
nothing of the iron-hearted _Charles_ the XIIth, whom the Countess of
K***** herself could make nothing of.——There was _Babylonicus_, and
_Mediterraneus_, and _Polixenes_, and _Persicus_, and _Prusicus_, not
one of whom (except _Cappadocius_ and _Pontus_, who were both a little
suspected) ever once bowed down his breast to the goddess——The truth
is, they had all of them something else to do—and so had my uncle
_Toby_—till Fate—till Fate I say, envying his name the glory of being
handed down to posterity with _Aldrovandus_’s and the rest,—she basely
patched up the peace of _Utrecht._
——Believe me, Sirs, ’twas the worst deed she did that year.
C H A P. LXXIV
AMONGST the many ill consequences of the treaty of _Utrecht_, it was
within a point of giving my uncle _Toby_ a surfeit of sieges; and
though he recovered his appetite afterwards, yet _Calais_ itself left
not a deeper scar in _Mary_’s heart, than _Utrecht_ upon my uncle
_Toby_’s. To the end of his life he never could hear _Utrecht_
mentioned upon any account whatever,—or so much as read an article of
news extracted out of the _Utrecht Gazette_, without fetching a sigh,
as if his heart would break in twain.
My father, who was a great MOTIVE-MONGER, and consequently a very
dangerous person for a man to sit by, either laughing or crying,—for he
generally knew your motive for doing both, much better than you knew it
yourself—would always console my uncle _Toby_ upon these occasions, in
a way, which shewed plainly, he imagined my uncle _Toby_ grieved for
nothing in the whole affair, so much as the loss of his
_hobby-horse._——Never mind, brother _Toby_, he would say,—by God’s
blessing we shall have another war break out again some of these days;
and when it does,—the belligerent powers, if they would hang
themselves, cannot keep us out of play.——I defy ’em, my dear _Toby_, he
would add, to take countries without taking towns,——or towns without
sieges.
My uncle _Toby_ never took this back-stroke of my father’s at his
hobby-horse kindly.——He thought the stroke ungenerous; and the more so,
because in striking the horse he hit the rider too, and in the most
dishonourable part a blow could fall; so that upon these occasions, he
always laid down his pipe upon the table with more fire to defend
himself than common.
I told the reader, this time two years, that my uncle _Toby_ was not
eloquent; and in the very same page gave an instance to the
contrary:——I repeat the observation, and a fact which contradicts it
again.—He was not eloquent,—it was not easy to my uncle _Toby_ to make
long harangues,—and he hated florid ones; but there were occasions
where the stream overflowed the man, and ran so counter to its usual
course, that in some parts my uncle _Toby_, for a time, was at least
equal to _Tertullus_——but in others, in my own opinion, infinitely
above him.
My father was so highly pleased with one of these apologetical orations
of my uncle _Toby_’s, which he had delivered one evening before him and
_Yorick_, that he wrote it down before he went to bed.
I have had the good fortune to meet with it amongst my father’s papers,
with here and there an insertion of his own, betwixt two crooks, thus
[ ], and is endorsed,
MY BROTHER TOBY’S JUSTIFICATION OF HIS OWN PRINCIPLES AND CONDUCT IN
WISHING TO CONTINUE THE WAR.
I may safely say, I have read over this apologetical oration of my
uncle _Toby_’s a hundred times, and think it so fine a model of
defence,—and shews so sweet a temperament of gallantry and good
principles in him, that I give it the world, word for word
(interlineations and all), as I find it.
C H A P. LXXV
MY UNCLE TOBY’S APOLOGETICAL ORATION
I AM not insensible, brother _Shandy_, that when a man whose profession
is arms, wishes, as I have done, for war,—it has an ill aspect to the
world;——and that, how just and right soever his motives the intentions
may be,—he stands in an uneasy posture in vindicating himself from
private views in doing it.
For this cause, if a soldier is a prudent man, which he may be without
being a jot the less brave, he will be sure not to utter his wish in
the hearing of an enemy; for say what he will, an enemy will not
believe him.——He will be cautious of doing it even to a friend,—lest he
may suffer in his esteem:——But if his heart is overcharged, and a
secret sigh for arms must have its vent, he will reserve it for the ear
of a brother, who knows his character to the bottom, and what his true
notions, dispositions, and principles of honour are: What, I _hope_, I
have been in all these, brother _Shandy_, would be unbecoming in me to
say:——much worse, I know, have I been than I ought,—and something
worse, perhaps, than I think: But such as I am, you, my dear brother
_Shandy_, who have sucked the same breasts with me,—and with whom I
have been brought up from my cradle,—and from whose knowledge, from the
first hours of our boyish pastimes, down to this, I have concealed no
one action of my life, and scarce a thought in it——Such as I am,
brother, you must by this time know me, with all my vices, and with all
my weaknesses too, whether of my age, my temper, my passions, or my
understanding.
Tell me then, my dear brother _Shandy_, upon which of them it is, that
when I condemned the peace of _Utrecht_, and grieved the war was not
carried on with vigour a little longer, you should think your brother
did it upon unworthy views; or that in wishing for war, he should be
bad enough to wish more of his fellow-creatures slain,—more slaves
made, and more families driven from their peaceful habitations, merely
for his own pleasure:——Tell me, brother _Shandy_, upon what one deed of
mine do you ground it? [_The devil a deed do I know of, dear_ Toby,
_but one for a hundred pounds, which I lent thee to carry on these
cursed sieges._]
If, when I was a school-boy, I could not hear a drum beat, but my heart
beat with it—was it my fault?——Did I plant the propensity there?——Did I
sound the alarm within, or Nature?
When _Guy_, Earl of _Warwick_, and _Parismus_ and _Parismenus_, and
_Valentine_ and _Orson_, and the _Seven Champions of England_, were
handed around the school,—were they not all purchased with my own
pocket-money? Was that selfish, brother _Shandy_? When we read over the
siege of _Troy_, which lasted ten years and eight months,——though with
such a train of artillery as we had at _Namur_, the town might have
been carried in a week—was I not as much concerned for the destruction
of the _Greeks_ and _Trojans_ as any boy of the whole school? Had I not
three strokes of a ferula given me, two on my right hand, and one on my
left, for calling _Helena_ a bitch for it? Did any one of you shed more
tears for _Hector?_ And when king _Priam_ came to the camp to beg his
body, and returned weeping back to _Troy_ without it,—you know,
brother, I could not eat my dinner.——
——Did that bespeak me cruel? Or because, brother _Shandy_, my blood
flew out into the camp, and my heart panted for war,—was it a proof it
could not ache for the distresses of war too?
O brother! ’tis one thing for a soldier to gather laurels,—and ’tis
another to scatter cypress.——[_Who told thee, my dear Toby, that
cypress was used by the antients on mournful occasions?_ ]
——’Tis one thing, brother _Shandy_, for a soldier to hazard his own
life—to leap first down into the trench, where he is sure to be cut in
pieces:——’Tis one thing, from public spirit and a thirst of glory, to
enter the breach the first man,—to stand in the foremost rank, and
march bravely on with drums and trumpets, and colours flying about his
ears:——’Tis one thing, I say, brother _Shandy_, to do this,—and ’tis
another thing to reflect on the miseries of war;—to view the
desolations of whole countries, and consider the intolerable fatigues
and hardships which the soldier himself, the instrument who works them,
is forced (for sixpence a day, if he can get it) to undergo.
Need I be told, dear _Yorick_, as I was by you, in _Le Fever_’s funeral
sermon, _That so soft and gentle a creature, born to love, to mercy,
and kindness, as man is, was not shaped for this?_——But why did you not
add, _Yorick_,—if not by NATURE—that he is so by NECESSITY?——For what
is war? what is it, _Yorick_, when fought as ours has been, upon
principles of _liberty_, and upon principles of _honour_—what is it,
but the getting together of quiet and harmless people, with their
swords in their hands, to keep the ambitious and the turbulent within
bounds? And heaven is my witness, brother _Shandy_, that the pleasure I
have taken in these things,—and that infinite delight, in particular,
which has attended my sieges in my bowling-green, has arose within me,
and I hope in the corporal too, from the consciousness we both had,
that in carrying them on, we were answering the great ends of our
creation.
C H A P. LXXVI
I TOLD the Christian reader—I say _Christian_——hoping he is one——and if
he is not, I am sorry for it——and only beg he will consider the matter
with himself, and not lay the blame entirely upon this book——
I told him, Sir——for in good truth, when a man is telling a story in
the strange way I do mine, he is obliged continually to be going
backwards and forwards to keep all tight together in the reader’s
fancy——which, for my own part, if I did not take heed to do more than
at first, there is so much unfixed and equivocal matter starting up,
with so many breaks and gaps in it,—and so little service do the stars
afford, which, nevertheless, I hang up in some of the darkest passages,
knowing that the world is apt to lose its way, with all the lights the
sun itself at noon-day can give it——and now you see, I am lost
myself!——
——But ’tis my father’s fault; and whenever my brains come to be
dissected, you will perceive, without spectacles, that he has left a
large uneven thread, as you sometimes see in an unsaleable piece of
cambrick, running along the whole length of the web, and so untowardly,
you cannot so much as cut out a * *, (here I hang up a couple of lights