The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

by Laurence Sterne

  * * *;——but that * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  * * * * * * * *’s also.”

  Could the world have been sued like a BODY-CORPORATE,— my father had brought an action upon the case, and trounced it sufficiently; but to fall foul of individuals about it——as every soul who had mentioned the affair, did it with the greatest pity imaginable;——’twas like flying in the very face of his best friends:——And yet to acquiesce under the report, in silence— was to acknowledge it openly,—at least in the opinion of one half of the world; and to make a bustle again, in contradicting it,—was to confirm it as strongly in the opinion of the other half.———

  ——Was ever poor devil of a country gentleman so hampered? said my father.

  I would shew him publickly, said my uncle Toby, at the market cross.

  ——’Twill have no effect, said my father.

  CHAP. XV.

  ——I’ll put him, however, into breeches said my father,—let the world say what it will.

  CHAP. XVI.

  THERE are a thousand resolutions, Sir, both in church and state, as well as in matters, Madam, of a more private concern;—which, though they have carried all the appearance in the world of being taken, and entered upon in a hasty, hare-brained, and unadvised manner, were, notwithstanding this, (and could you or I have got into the cabinet, or stood behind the curtain, we should have found it was so) weighed, poized, and perpended——argued upon——can-vassed through——entered into, and examined on all sides with so much coolness, that the GODDESS of COOLNESS herself (I do not take upon me to prove her existence) could neither have wished it, or done it better.

  Of the number of these was my father’s resolution of putting me into breeches; which, though determined at once,—in a kind of huff, and a defiance of all mankind, had, nevertheless, been pro’d and conn’d, and judicially talked over betwixt him and my mother about a month before, in two several beds of justice,1 which my father had held for that purpose. I shall explain the nature of these beds of justice in my next chapter; and in the chapter following that, you shall step with me, Madam, behind the curtain, only to hear in what kind of manner my father and my mother debated between themselves, this affair of the breeches,—from which you may form an idea, how they debated all lesser matters.

  CHAP. XVII.

  THE ancient Goths of Germany, who (the learned Cluverius is positive) were first seated in the country between the Vistula and the Oder, and who afterwards incorporated the Herculi, the Bugians,1 and some other Vandallick clans to ’em,—had all of them a wise custom of debating every thing of importance to their state, twice; that is,—once drunk, and once sober:——Drunk—that their counsels might not want vigour; ——and sober—that they might not want discretion.

  Now my father being entirely a water-drinker,—was a long time gravelled almost to death, in turning this as much to his advantage, as he did every other thing, which the ancients did or said; and it was not till the seventh year of his marriage, after a thousand fruitless experiments and devices, that he hit upon an expedient which answered the purpose;—— and that was when any difficult and momentous point was to be settled in the family, which required great sobriety, and great spirit too, in its determination,——he fixed and set apart the first Sunday night in the month, and the Saturday night which immediately preceded it, to argue it over, in bed with my mother: By which contrivance, if you consider, Sir, with yourself, * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  These my father, humourously enough, called his beds of justice;——for from the two different counsels taken in these two different humours, a middle one was generally found out, which touched the point of wisdom as well, as if he had got drunk and sober a hundred times.

  It must not be made a secret of to the world, that this answers full as well in literary discussions, as either in military or conjugal; but it is not every author that can try the experiment as the Goths and Vandals did it——or if he can, may it be always for his body’s health; and to do it, as my father did it,—am I sure it would be always for his soul’s.——

  My way is this:———

  In all nice and ticklish discussions,—(of which, heaven knows, there are but too many in my book)—where I find I cannot take a step without the danger of having either their worships or their reverences upon my back——I write one half full,—and t’other fasting;2——or write it all full,—and correct it fasting;——or write it fasting,—and correct it full, for they all come to the same thing:——So that with a less variation from my father’s plan, than my father’s from the Gothick—— I feel myself upon a par with him in his first bed of justice,—— and no way inferior to him in his second.——These different and almost irreconcileable effects, flow uniformly from the wise and wonderful mechanism of nature,—of which,—be her’s the honour.——All that we can do, is to turn and work the machine to the improvement and better manufactury of the arts and sciences.———

  Now, when I write full,—I write as if I was never to write fasting again as long as I live;——that is, I write free from the cares, as well as the terrors of the world.——I count not the number of my scars,—nor does my fancy go forth into dark entries and bye corners to antedate my stabs.——In a word, my pen takes its course; and I write on as much from the fullness of my heart, as my stomach.——

  But when, an’ please your honours, I indite fasting, ’tis a different history.——I pay the world all possible attention and respect,—and have as great a share (whilst it lasts) of that understrapping3 virtue of discretion, as the best of you.——So that betwixt both, I write a careless kind of a civil, nonsensical, good humoured Shandean book, which will do all your hearts good———

  ——And all your heads too,—provided you understand it.

  CHAP. XVIII.

  WE should begin, said my father, turning himself half round in bed, and shifting his pillow a little towards my mother’s, as he opened the debate——We should begin to think, Mrs. Shandy, of putting this boy into breeches.——

  We should so,—said my mother.——We defer it, my dear, quoth my father, shamefully.——— I think we do, Mr. Shandy,—said my mother.

  ——Not but the child looks extremely well, said my father, in his vests and tunicks.———

  ——He does look very well in them,—replied my mother.———

  ——And for that reason it would be almost a sin, added my father, to take him out of ’em.———

  ——It would so,—said my mother:——But indeed he is growing a very tall lad,—rejoin’d my father.

  ——He is very tall for his age, indeed,—said my mother.——

  ——I can not (making two syllables of it) imagine, quoth my father, who the duce he takes after.——

  I cannot conceive, for my life,—said my mother.———

  Humph!——said my father.

  (The dialogue ceased for a moment.)

  ——I am very short myself,—continued my father, gravely.

  You are very short, Mr. Shandy,—said my mother.

  Humph! quoth my father to himself, a second time: in muttering which, he plucked his pillow a little further from my mother’s,—and turning about again, there was an end of the debate for three minutes and a half.

  ——When he gets these breeches made, cried my father in a higher tone, he’ll look like a beast in ’em.

  He will be very aukward in them at first, replied my mother.———

  ——And ’twill be lucky, if that’s the worst on’t, added my father.

  It will be very lucky, answered my mother.

  I suppose, replied my father,—making some pause first,— he’ll be exactly like other people’s children.———

  Exactly, said my mother.———

  ——Though I should be sorry for that, added my father: and so the debate stopped again.

  ——They should be of leather, said my father, turni
ng him about again.—

  They will last him, said my mother, the longest.

  But he can have no linings to ’em, replied my father.———

  He cannot, said my mother.

  ’Twere better to have them of fustian, quoth my father.

  Nothing can be better, quoth my mother.———

  ——Except dimity,—replied my father:——’Tis best of all,—replied my mother.

  ——One must not give him his death, however,—interrupted my father.

  By no means, said my mother:——and so the dialogue stood still again.

  I am resolved, however, quoth my father, breaking silence the fourth time, he shall have no pockets in them.——

  ——There is no occasion for any, said my mother.———

  I mean in his coat and waistcoat,—cried my father.

  ——I mean so too,—replied my mother.

  ——Though if he gets a gig or a top——Poor souls! it is a crown and a scepter to them,—they should have where to secure it.———

  Order it as you please, Mr. Shandy, replied my mother.———

  ——But don’t you think it right? added my father, pressing the point home to her.

  Perfectly, said my mother, if it pleases you, Mr. Shandy.———

  ——There’s for you! cried my father, losing temper—— Pleases me!——You never will distinguish, Mrs. Shandy, nor shall I ever teach you to do it, betwixt a point of pleasure and a point of convenience.——This was on the Sunday night;—— and further this chapter sayeth not.

  CHAP. XIX.1

  AFTER my father had debated the affair of the breeches with my mother,—he consulted Albertus Rubenius2 upon it; and Albertus Rubenius used my father ten times worse in the consultation (if possible) than even3 my father had used my mother: For as Rubenius had wrote a quarto express, De re Vestiaria Veterum,—it was Rubenius’s business to have given my father some lights.—On the contrary, my father might as well have thought of extracting the seven cardinal virtues out of a long beard,—as of extracting a single word out of Rubenius upon the subject.

  Upon every other article of ancient dress,4 Rubenius was very communicative to my father;—gave him a full and satisfactory account of

  The Toga, or loose gown.

  The Chlamys.

  The Ephod.

  The Tunica, or Jacket.

  The Synthesis.

  The Pænula.

  The Lacerna, with its Cucullus.

  The Paludamentum.

  The Prætexta.

  The Sagum, or soldier’s jerkin.

  The Trabea: of which, according to Suetonius, there were three kinds.—

  ——But what are all these to the breeches? said my father.

  Rubenius threw him down upon the counter all kinds of shoes which had been in fashion with the Romans.———

  There was,

  The open shoe.

  The close shoe.

  The slip shoe.

  The wooden shoe.

  The soc.

  The buskin.

  And The military shoe5 with hobnails in it, which

  Juvenal takes notice of.

  There were, The clogs.

  The patins.6

  The pantoufles.

  The brogues.

  The sandals, with latchets to them.

  There was, The felt shoe.

  The linen shoe.

  The laced shoe.

  The braided shoe.

  The calceus incisus.

  And The calceus rostratus.

  Rubenius shewed my father how well they all fitted,—in what manner they laced on,—with what points, straps, thongs, latchets, ribands, jaggs, and ends.———

  ——But I want to be informed about the breeches, said my father.

  Albertus Rubenius informed my father that the Romans manufactured stuffs of various fabricks,——some plain,— some striped,—others diapered throughout the whole contexture of the wool, with silk and gold——That linen did not begin to be in common use, till towards the declension of the empire, when the Egyptians coming to settle amongst them, brought it into vogue.

  ——That persons of quality and fortune distinguished themselves by the fineness and whiteness of their cloaths; which colour (next to purple, which was appropriated to the great offices) they most affected and wore on their birth-days and public rejoicings.——That it appeared from the best historians of those times, that they frequently sent their cloaths to the fuller, to be cleaned and whitened;——but that the inferior people, to avoid that expence, generally wore brown cloaths, and of a something coarser texture,—till towards the beginning of Augustus’s reign, when the slave dressed like his master, and almost every distinction of habiliment was lost,7 but the Latus Clavus.

  And what was the Latus Clavus? said my father.

  Rubenius told him, that the point was still litigating amongst the learned:——That Egnatius, Sigonius, Bossius Ticinensis, Bayfius, Budæus, Salmasius, Lipsius, Lazius, Isaac Causabon, and Joseph Scaliger,8 all differed from each other,—and he from them: That some took it to be the button,—some the coat itself,—others only the colour of it:—That the great Bayfius,9 in his Wardrobe of the ancients, chap. 12.—honestly said, he knew not what it was,—whether a fibula,10—a stud,—a button,—a loop,—a buckle,—or clasps and keepers.———

  ——My father lost the horse, but not the saddle11——They are hooks and eyes, said my father——and with hooks and eyes he ordered my breeches to be made.

  CHAP. XX.

  WE are now going to enter upon a new scene of events.———

  ——Leave we then the breeches in the taylor’s hands, with my father standing over him with his cane, reading him as he sat at work a lecture upon the latus clavus, and pointing to the precise part of the waistband, where he was determined to have it sewed on.——

  Leave we my mother—(truest of all the Poco-curante’s1 of her sex!)—careless about it, as about every thing else in the world which concerned her;—that is,—indifferent whether it was done this way or that,—provided it was but done at all.——

  Leave we Slop likewise to the full profits of all my dishonours.———

  Leave we poor Le Fever to recover, and get home from Marseilles as he can.——And last of all,—because the hardest of all——

  Let us leave, if possible, myself:——But ’tis impossible,—I must go along with you to the end of the work.

  CHAP. XXI.

  IF the reader has not a clear conception of the rood and the half of ground which lay at the bottom of my uncle Toby’s kitchen garden, and which was the scene of so many of his delicious hours,—the fault is not in me,—but in his imagination;—for I am sure I gave him so minute a description, I was almost ashamed of it.

  When FATE was looking forwards one afternoon, into the great transactions of future times,—and recollected for what purposes, this little plot, by a decree fast bound down in iron, had been destined,—she gave a nod to NATURE—’twas enough—Nature threw half a spade full of her kindliest compost upon it, with just so much clay in it, as to retain the forms of angles and indentings,—and so little of it too, as not to cling to the spade, and render works of so much glory, nasty in foul weather.

  My uncle Toby came down, as the reader has been informed, with plans along with him, of almost every fortified town in Italy and Flanders; so let the Duke of Marlborough,1 or the allies, have set down before what town they pleased, my uncle Toby was prepared for them.

  His way, which was the simplest one in the world, was this; as soon as ever a town was invested—(but sooner when the design was known) to take the plan of it, (let it be what town it would) and enlarge it upon a scale to the exact size of his bowling-green; upon the surface of which, by means of a large role of packthread, and a number of small piquets driven into the ground, at the several angles and redans, he transferred the lines from his paper; then taking the profile of the place, with its works, to determine the depths an
d slopes of the ditches,— the talus of the glacis, and the precise height of the several banquets, parapets, &c.—he set the corporal to work——and sweetly went it on:——The nature of the soil,—the nature of the work itself,—and above all, the good nature of my uncle Toby sitting by from morning to night, and chatting kindly with the corporal upon past-done deeds,—left LABOUR little else but the ceremony of the name.

  When the place was finished in this manner, and put into a proper posture of defence,—it was invested,—and my uncle Toby and the corporal began to run their first parallel.——I beg I may not be interrupted in my story, by being told, That the first parallel should be at least three hundred toises distant from the main body of the place,2 —and that I have not left a single inch for it;——for my uncle Toby took the liberty of incroaching upon his kitchen garden, for the sake of enlarging his works on the bowling green, and for that reason generally ran his first and second parallels betwixt two rows of his cabbages and his collyflowers; the conveniences and inconveniences of which will be considered at large in the history of my uncle Toby’s and the corporal’s campaigns, of which, this I’m now writing is but a sketch, and will be finished, if I conjecture right, in three pages (but there is no guessing)——The campaigns themselves will take up as many books; and therefore I apprehend it would be hanging too great a weight of one kind of matter in so flimsy a performance as this, to rhapsodize them, as I once intended, into the body of the work——surely they had better be printed apart,——we’ll consider the affair—— so take the following sketch of them in the mean time.