 Preface in chapters 1 to 3 of Tristram Shandy, Volume 1. Preface To the right honourable Mr. Pitt. Sir, never-poor white of a dedicator had less hopes from his dedication than I have from this of mine, for it is written in a by-corner of the kingdom and in a retired, satched house, where I live in a constant endeavour to fence against the infirmities of ill-health and other evils of life by mass, being firmly persuaded that every time a man smiles, but much more so when he laughs, he adds something to this fragment of life. I humbly beg, sir, that you will honour this book by taking it, not under your protection, it must protect itself, but into the country with you, where, if I am ever told it has made you smile, or can conceive it has beguiled you of one moment's pain, I shall think myself as happy as a minister of state, perhaps much happier than any one, only one accepted, that I have ever read or heard of. I am great, sir, and what is more to your honour, I am good, sir, your well-wisher, and most humble fellow-subject, the author. Chapter 1 I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me. Had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were doing, that not only the production of a rational being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius, and the very cast of his mind, and fraught they know, in the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house, might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost. Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly, I am verily persuaded I should have made quite a different figure in the world from that in which the reader is likely to see me. Believe me, good folks, this is not so inconsiderable a thing as many of you may think it. You have all, I dare say, heard of the animal spirits, as how they are transfused from father to son, et cetera, et cetera, and a great deal to that purpose. Well, you may take my word, that nine parts in ten of a man's sense or his nonsense, his successes and miscarriages in this world, depend upon their motions and activity, and the different tracks and trains you put them into, so that when they are once set going, whether right or wrong, it is not a half-penny matter, the way they go cluttering like hey-go-mad, and by treading the same steps over and over again, they presently make a road of it, as plain and as smooth as a garden walk, which, when they are once used to, the devil himself sometimes shall not be able to drive them off it. Pray, my dear, quoth my mother, have you not forgot to wind up the clock? Good God! tried my father, making an exclamation, but taking care to moderate his voice at the same time. Did ever a woman, since the creation of the world, interrupt a man with such a silly question? Pray what was your father saying? Nothing. Chapter 2. Then positively there is nothing in the question that I can see, either good or bad. Then let me tell you, sir, it was a very unseasonable question at least, because it scattered and dispersed the animal spirits, whose business it was to have escorted and gone hand in hand with the homunculus, and conducted him safe to the place destined for his reception. The homunculus, sir, in however low and ludicrous a light he may appear, in this age of levity, to the eye of folly or prejudice, to the eye of reason in scientific research, he stands confessed, a being guarded and circumscribed with rights. The minutest philosophers, who by the by have the most enlarged understandings, their souls being inversely as their inquiries, show us incontestably that the homunculus is created by the same hand, engendered in the same course of nature, endowed with the same locomotive powers and faculties with us, that he consists, as we do, of skin, hair, fat, flesh, veins, arteries, ligaments, nerves, cartilages, bones, marrow, brains, glands, genitals, humours, and articulations, is a being of as much activity, and in all senses of the word, as much and as truly your fellow creature as my Lord Chancellor of England. He may be benefited, he may be injured, he may obtain redress. In a word, he has all the claims and rights of humanity, which Tully, Puffendorf, or the best ethic writers, allow to arise out of that state and relation. Now, dear sir, what if any accident had befallen him in his way alone? Or that, through terror of it, natural to so young a traveller, my little gentleman had got to his journey's end miserably spent. His muscular strength and virility worn down to his thread, his own animal spirits ruffled beyond description, and that in this sad, disordered state of nerves, he had lain down a prey to sudden starts, or a series of melancholy dreams and fancies, for nine long, long months together. I tremble to think what a foundation had been laid, for a thousand weaknesses both of body and mind, which no skill of the physician or the philosopher could ever afterwards have set thoroughly to rights. CHAPTER III To my uncle, Mr. Toby Shandy, do I stand indebted for the preceding anecdote, to whom my father, who was an excellent natural philosopher, and much given to close reasoning upon the smallest matters, had oft and heavily complained of the injury, but once more particularly, as my uncle Toby well remembered, upon his observing a most unaccountable obliquity, as he called it, in my manner of setting up my top, and justifying the principles upon which I had done it, the old gentleman shook his head, and in a tone more expressive per half of sorrow than reproach, he said his heart all along foreboded, and he saw it verified in this, and from a thousand other observations he had made upon me, that I should neither think nor act, like any other man's child, but alas, continued he, shaking his head a second time, and wiping away a tear which was trickling down his cheeks, my tristram's misfortunes began nine months before he ever came into the world. My mother, who was sitting by, looked up, but she knew no more than her backside what my father meant. But my uncle, Mr. Toby Shandy, who had been often informed of the affair, understood him very well. End of Preface and chapters one to three, recorded magazine in February 2009. Chapter four to five of Tristram Shandy, volume one. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Jules van Wallachian. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, gentlemen, volume one, by Lauren Stern. Chapter four. I know there are readers in the world, as well as many other good people in it, who are no readers at all, 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 once-or-living 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 them right, will take in all ranks, professions, and denominations of men whatever, be no less red than the pilgrims' progress itself, and in the end prove the very thing which Montaigne dreaded his essay should turn out, that it 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 become 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, abovo. Horace, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether. The gentleman is speaking only of an epic poem or a tragedy. I forget which. Besides, if it was not so, I should beg Miss Horace's pardon. For in writing what I have set about, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any men's rules that ever lived. 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 beforehand to drod only for the curious and inquisitive. Shut the door. I was begotten the night betwixt the first Sunday, and the first Monday, and the month of March, the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighteen. I am positive I was, 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 public for the better clearing up this point. My father, you must know, who was originally a Turk immersion, but had left off business for some years in order to retire to, and die upon, his paternal estate in the country of Blank, was, I believe, one of the most regular men in everything he did, whether it was matter of business, or matter of amusement, that ever lived. 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 had, 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 consermons to the same period, in order, as he would often say to my uncle Toby, to give them all out of the way at one time, and be no more plagued and pasted with them the rest of the month. It was a tender, 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 doubt at length, that my poor mother could never hear the sad clock round up, but a thought of some other things unavoidably popped into her head, and vice versa, which a strange combination of ideas, the sagacious log, who certainly understood the nature of these things better than most men, affirms to have produced more rye actions than all other sources of prejudice whatsoever, but this by the by. Now it appears by a memorandum in my father's pocket-book, which now lies upon the table, said on Lady Day, which was on the twenty-fifth of the same month in which I date my janitor, my father set upon his journey to London, with my elder's brother Bobby, to fix him at Westminster School, and as it appears from the same authority, said he did not get down to his wife and family till the second week of May following. It brings a thing almost to a certainty. However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter puts it beyond all possibility of a doubt. But pray, sir, what was your father doing all December, January and February? Why, madam, he was all that time afflicted with sciatica. CHAPTER V On the fifth day of November, 1718, which to the area fixed on, was as near nine calendar months as any husband could in reason have expected, was I, Tristram Shandy, gentleman, brought forth into the scurvy and disastrous world of ours. Wish I had been born in the moon, or in any of the planets, except Jupiter or Saturn, because I never could be a cold weather. For it could not well have fared worse with me in any of them, though I will not answer for Venus, than it has in this vile, dirty planet of ours, which, on my conscience, with the reverence be it spoken, I take to be made up of the shreds and clippings of the rest, not but the planet is well enough, provided men could be born in it to a great title or to a great estate, or could anyhow contrive to be called up to public charges and employments of dignity or power. But that is not my case, and therefore every man will speak of the fair as his own market has gone in it. For which cause I affirm it over-regent be one of the vilest worlds that ever was made, for I can truly say that from the first hour I drew my breast in it, to this, that I cannot scarce draw it at all, for in Asthma I got in skating against the wind in Flanders. I have been the continual sport of what the world calls fortune, and though I will not wrong her by saying she has ever made me feel the weight of any grade or signal evil, yet with all the good temper in the world I affirm it of her that in every stage of my life, and at every turn and corner, where she could get fairly at me, the ungracious duchess has pelted me with a set of as pitiful misadventures and cross-accidents as ever small heroes sustained. Chapter 6 to 7 of Dristram Chandy, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Anjuli van Wallachem. The Life and Opinions of Dristram Chandy, Gentlemen, Volume 1 by Lauren Stern. Chapter 6 In the beginning of the last chapter I informed you exactly when I was born, but I did not inform you how, no, that particular was reserved entirely for a chapter by itself, besides, as you and I are in a manner perfect strangers to each other, it would not have been proper to have let you into too many circumstances relating to myself all at once. We must have a little patience. I have undertaken you see to write not only my life, but my opinions also, hoping and expecting that your knowledge of my character, and of what kind of mortal I am, by the one would give you a better relage for the other. As you proceed farther with me, the slight acquaintance which is now beginning betwixt us, will grow into familiarity, and that, unless one of us is informed, will terminate in friendship. O dear Preclarum, the nothing which has touched me will be thought trifling into nature, or tedious in its telling. Therefore, my dear friend and companion, if you should to think me somewhat sparing of my narrative or my first setting out, bear with me, and let me go on, and tell my story my own way. Or if I should seem now and then to trifle upon the road, or should sometimes put on a false cap with the bell to it, for a moment or two as we pass along, don't fly off, but rather cordiously give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears upon my outside, and as we jog on, either laugh with me or at me, or in short, do any thing, only keep your temper. Chapter 7 In the same village where my father and my mother dwelt, dwelt also a sin upright, motherly, notably, good old buddy of a midwife, with the help of a little plain good sense and some years full employment in her business, in which she had all along trusted little to her own effort, and great deal to those of dame nature, had acquired in her way no small decree of reputation in the world, by which word world, need I in this place inform your worship, that I would be understood to mean no more of it than a small circle described upon the circle of the great world, of four English miles diameter, or thereabouts, of which the cottage where the good old woman lived is supposed to be the centre. She had been left, it seems, a widow in great distress, with three or four small children in a 47th year, and as she was at that time a person of decent carriage, grave deportment, a woman moreover of few words and with all an object of compassion, whose distress and silence under it, called out the louder for a friendly lift. The wife of the parson of the parish was touched with pity, and having often lamented an inconvenience to which her husband's flock had for many years been exposed, in as much as there was no such thing as a midwife, of any kind or degree to be got it, led the case to be never so urgent, within less than six or seven long miles riding, which is said, seven long miles and dark nights, and dismal roads, the country there about to be nothing, but a deep clay, was almost equal to fourteen, and that in effect was sometimes next to having no midwife at all, it came into her head that it would be doing a seasonable kindness to the whole parish, as to the poor creature herself, to get her a little instructed in some of the plain principles of the business, in order to set her up in it. As no woman there about as better qualified to execute the plan she had formed than herself, the gentle woman very charitably undertook it, and having great influence over the female part of the parish, she found no difficulty in effecting it to the utmost of her wishes. In truth the parson joined his interest with his wives in the Hall of Fair, and in order to do things as if they should be, and give the poor soul as good a title by law to practice, as his wife had given by institution, he cheerfully paid the fees for the ordinary's license himself, amounting in the hall to the sum of eighteen shillings and four pens, so that betwixt of them both, to good a woman was fully invested in the real and corporal possession of her office, together with all its rights, members, and the pertinence as what to ever. These last words, you must know, were not according to the old form in which such licences, faculties, and powers usually ran, which in like cases had here to fore been rented to the sisterhood. But it was according to a neat formula of Didier's, his own devising, who having a particular turn for taking two pieces, and new framing over again all kind of instruments in that way, not only head upon this dainty amendment, but coaxed many of the old licenced madrons in the neighbourhood to open the faculties afresh, in order to have this wem-wem of his inserted. I own I never could envy Didier's and these kinds of fancies of his, but every man to his own taste, did not Dr. Cunnenstrokius, that great man at his leisure-hours, take the greatest delight imaginable in coming of asses' tales, and plucking the dead hairs out with his teeth, so he had tweezers always in his pocket. Nay, if you come to that, sir, have not the wisest of men in all ages, not accepting Solomon himself, have they not had their hobby-horses, their running-horses, their coins and their cockle-shells, their drums and their trumpets, their fiddles with their palates, their maggots and their butterflies, and so long as a man rides his hobby-horse, peaceably and quietly along with the king's highway, and neither compels you or me to get up behind him. Brace, sir, what have either you or I to do with it? All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy Gentlemen. Volume 1 by Lawrence Tuen, chapters 8 to 9. To Gustavus' non-est dispute-andom. That is, there is no disputing against hobby-horses, and for my part I seldom do. Nor could I with any sort of grace, had I been an enemy to them at the bottom, for happening at certain intervals and changes of the moon to be both fiddler and painter, according as the fly stings. Be it known to you that I keep a couple of pads myself upon which in their turns, nor do I care who knows it. I frequently ride out and take the air, though sometimes to my shame be it spoken. I take somewhat longer journeys than what a wise man would think altogether right, but the truth is, I am not a wise man, and besides, am immortal of so little consequence in the world, it is not much matter what I do. So I seldom fret or fume at all about it. Nor does it match to stir my rest, when I see such great lords and tall personages as hereafter follow. Such, for instance, as my lord, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, k, l, m, n, o, p, q, and so on. All of a row, mounted upon their several horses, some with large stirrups, getting on in a more grave and sober pace, others on the contrary, tucked up to their very chins, with whips across their mouths, scouring and scampering it away like so many little party-coloured devils astride a mortgage. And as if some of them were resolved to break their necks, so much the better, say I to myself, for in case the worst should happen, the world will make a shift to do excellently well without them, and for the rest, why God speed them, and let them ride on without opposition from me. For were their lordships unhorsed this very night, it is ten to one that many of them would be worse mounted by one half before tomorrow morning. Not one of these instances, therefore, can be said to break in upon my rest, but there is an instance which I own puts me off my guard, and that is, when I see one born for great actions, and what is still more for his honour, whose nature ever inclines him to good ones, when I behold such one, my lord, like yourself, whose principles and conduct are as generous and noble as his blood, and whom, for that reason, a corrupt world cannot spear one moment. When I see such a one, my lord, mounted, though it is, but for a minute beyond the time which my love to my country has prescribed to him, and my zeal for his glory wishes, then, my lord, I cease to be a philosopher, and in the first transport of an honest and patience, I wish the hobby horse with all his fraternity at the devil. My lord, I maintain this to be a dedication, not withstanding its singularity in the three great essentials of matter, form, and place. I beg, therefore, you will accept it as such, and that you will permit me to lay it with the most respectful humility at your lordship's feet, when you are upon them, which you can be when you please, and that is my lord. Whenever there is occasion for it, and I will add, to the best purposes too, I have the honour to be my lord, your lordship's most obedient and most devoted, and most humble servant, Tristram Shandy. I solemnly declare to all mankind that the above dedication was made, for no one prints prelate pope or potentate, Duke Marquis, Earl Viscount, or Baron, of this or any other realm in Christendom, nor has it yet been hawked about or offered publicly or privately, directly or indirectly, to any one person or personage, great or small, but it is honestly a true virgin dedication, untried on upon any soul living. I labour this point so particularly merely to remove any offence or objection which might arise against it, from the manner in which I propose to make the most of it, which is to putting it up fairly to public sale, which I now do. Every author has a way of his own in bringing his points to bear, for my own part as I hate chaffering and higgling for a few guineas in a dark entry. I resolved within myself, from the very beginning, to deal squarely and openly with your great folks in this affair, and try whether I should not come off the better by it. If, therefore, there is any one Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, or Baron, in these his majesties dominions, who stands in need of a tight gentile dedication, and whom the above will suit, for by the by, unless it suits in some degree, I will not part with it. It is much at his service for fifty guineas, which I am positive is twenty guineas less than it ought to be offered for, by any man of genius. My lord, if you examine it over again, it is far from being a gross piece of daubing, as some dedications are. The design your lordship sees is good, the colouring transparent, the drawing not amiss, or to speak more like a man of science, and measure my piece in the painter's scale, divided into twenty. I believe my lord, the outlines will turn out as twelve, the composition as nine, the colouring as six, the expression thirteen and a half, and the design, if I may be allowed my lord to understand my own design, and supposing absolute perfection in design to be as twenty, I think it cannot well fall short of nineteen. Besides all this, there is keeping in it, and the dark strokes in the hobby horse, which is a secondary figure, and a kind of background to the whole. Give great force to the principal lights in your own figure, and make it come off wonderfully, and besides, there is an air of originality in the two-tonsamble. Be pleased, my good lord, to order the sum to be paid into the hands of Mr. Doddsley for the benefit of the author, and in the next edition, care shall be taken that this chapter be expunged, and your lordship's titles, distinctions, arms, and good actions be placed at the front of the preceding chapter. All which, from the words, degustibus nones disputandum, and whatever else in this book relates to hobby horses, but no more, shall stand dedicated to your lordship. The rest, I dedicate to the moon, who by the by, of all patrons of matrons I can think of, has the most power to set my bokeh going, and make the world run mad after it. Bright goddess, if thou art not too busy with candid and miscune-gones affairs, take Tristram Shandy's under thy protection also. End of chapters eight to nine. Chapter 10 of Tristram Shandy, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Julie van Wallehem. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentlemen, Volume 1. By Lauren Stern. Chapter 10. Whatever degree of small merit the act of benignity in the fave of the midwife my justy claim, or in whom that claim truly rested, at first sight seems not very material to this history. Certain however it was, that a gentlewoman, the parson's wife, did run away at the time with the whole of it. And yet for my life, I cannot help thinking but that a parson himself, so he had not the good fortune to hit upon the design first. Yet, yet, as he hardly concord in it, the moment it was laid before him, and as hardly parted with his money to carry it unto execution, had acclaimed to some share of it, if not a full half of whatever honour was due to it. The world at that time was pleased to determine the matter otherwise. Lay down the book, and I will allow you half a day to give a probable guess at a grant of this procedure. Be known then, that for about five years before the date of the midwife's license, of which you have had so circumstantial an account, the parson we have to do with, had made himself a country-talk by a breach of all decorum which he had committed against himself, his station, and his office. And that was, in never appearing better, or otherwise mounted, then upon a lean, sorry jackass of a horse, value about one pound fifteen shillings, who to shorten all description of him was full brother to Rosinanti, as far as the millitude congenial could make him, for he answered his description to hair-breath and everything, except that I do not remember it as anywhere said, that Rosinanti was broken-winded, and that, moreover, Rosinanti, as is the happiness of most Spanish horses, Pat or Lean, was undoubtedly a horse at all points. I know very well that a hero's horse was a horse's chaste deportment, which may have given ground for a contrary opinion. But it is certain at the same time, said Rosinanti's continency, as may be demonstrated from the adventure of the Angesian carriers, proceeded from no bodily defect a cause whatsoever, but from the temperance and orderly current of his blood. And let me tell you, madam, there is a great deal of very good chastity in the world, in behalf of which you could not say more for your life. Let that be as it may, as my purpose is to do exact justice to every creature brought upon the stage of this dramatic work, I could not stifle this distinction in favour of Don Quixote's horse. In all other points, the parson's horse, I say, was just such another, for he was as lean and as leg, and as sorry a jade as humility herself could have bestrided. In the estimation of here and there, a man of weak judgment, it is greatly in the parson's power to have helped the figure of this horse of his, for he was master of a very handsome demi-piqued saddle, quilted on the seed with green plush, garnished with double-row of silver-headed studs, and a noble pair of shining brass dirubs, with the housing altogether suitable, of grey superfine cloth, with an etching of black lace, terminating in a deep black silk French poudre d'or, or which he had purchased, in the pride and prime of his life, together with a grand embossed bridle, ornamented at all points, as it should be. But not caring to banter his beast, he had hung all these up behind a study-dor, and in lieu of them, had seriously befitted him with just such bridle and such a saddle, as the figure and value of such a steed might well and truly deserve. In the several cellies above disparage, and in the neighbouring visits to the gentry who lived around him, you will easily comprehend that a parson so appointed, would both hear and see enough to keep his philosophy from rusting. To speak the truth, he never could enter a village, but he caught the attention of both old and young. Labor stood still as he passed, the bucket hung suspended in the middle of the well, the spinning wheel forgot its round, even took farthing and shuffle-cap themselves stood gaping till he had got out of sight, and as his movement was not of the quickest, he had generally time enough upon his hands to make his observations, to hear the groans of the series, and the laughter of the light-hearted, all which he bore with excellent tranquility. His character was, he loved to jest in his heart, and as he saw himself in the true point of ridicule, he would say he could not be angry with others for seeing men alight, in which he so strongly saw himself. So that to his friends, who knew his foieble was not the love of money, and who therefore made the less crumple in bantering the extravagance of his humour, instead of giving the true cause, he chose rather to join in the laugh against himself. And as he never carried one single ounce of flesh upon his own bones, being altogether a spare of figures his beast, he would sometimes insist upon it, that a horse was as good as ride it deserved, that they were sent out like both of a peace. At other times, and in other moods, when his spirits were above the temptation of force would, he would say he found himself going off fast in consumption, and with great gravity would pretend he could not bear the sight of a fat horse without the ejection of heart, and the sensible alteration in his pulse, that he had made his choice of the lean one he rode upon, but only to keep himself in countenance, but in spirits. At different times, he would give fifty humourous and apposite reasons for riding a meek spirit to jade of broken-winded horse, preferably to one of metal. For on such a one, he could sit mechanically, and meditate as delightfully the Varnita de Mundi at Fuga Saikuli, as with the advantage of the deaths had before him, that in all other exorcitations he could spend his time, as he rode slowly along, which is much account as in his study, that he could draw up an argument in his sermon, or a haul in his breeches, as steadily on the one as in the other, that risk trotting and slow argumentation, like wit and judgement, were two incompatible movements, but that upon his steed, he could unite and reconcile everything, he could compose a sermon, he could compose his cuff, and in case nature gave a call that way, he could likewise compose himself to sleep. In short, the parson upon such encounters would assign any cause but a true cause, and he with health the drew one only out of a night at a temper, because he thought he did honour to him. But the truth of the story was as follows, in the first years of this gentleman's life, and above the time when the superb saddle and rider were purchased by him, it had been his manner, or vanity, or call it what you will, drawn into the opposite extreme, in the language of the county where he dwelled, he was said to have loved the good halls, and generally had one of the best in the hall parish, standing in a stable, always ready for settling. And as a nearest midwife, as I told you, did not live nearer to the village, than seven miles, and in a vile country, it so fell out that a poor gentleman was scarce a whole week together, without some pity's application for his beast, and as he was not an unkind hearted man, and every case was more pressing, and more distressedful than the last. As much as he loved his beast, he had never a heart to refuse him, the upset of which was generally this, that his horse was either clapped, or spavoned, or greased, or he was twitter-boned, or broken-winded, or something in short, or other, had befallen him which would let him carry no flesh, so that he had every nine or ten months a bad horse to get rid of, and a good horse to purchase in his stead. What the loss in such a balance might amount to, Comonibus Anis, I would leave to a special jury of sufferers in the same traffic to determine, but let it be what it would, the honest gentleman bore it for many years without murmur, till at length, by repeated ill-accidents of the kind, he found an accessory to take this thing under consideration, and upon weighing the haul, and summing it up in his mind, he found it not only disproportion to his other expenses, but was all so heavy an article in itself, as to disable him from any other act of generosity in his parish. Besides this, he considered, that with half the sum, thus galloped away, he could do ten times as much good, and what still weighed more with him than all other considerations put together, was of this, that it confined all his charity into one particular channel, and where, as he fancied, it was the least wanted, namely to the childbearing and child getting part of his parish, reserving nothing for the umpetent, nothing for the aged, nothing for the many comfortless scenes he was hourly called forth to visit, where poverty and sickness and defliction dwelled together. For these reasons, he resolved to discontinue the expense, and there appeared but two possible ways to extricate him clearly out of it, and these were, either to make it an irrevocable law, never more to lend a steed by any application, or else be content to ride the last poor devil, such as if they had made him, with all his aches and infirmities, to the very end of the chapter. As he dreaded his own constancy in the first, he very cheerfully betalked himself to the second, and though he could very well have explained it, as I said to his honour, yet for that very reason he had a spirit above it, choosing rather to bear the contempt of his enemies and the laugh of his friends, than undergo the pain of telling a story which might seem a panichoric upon himself. I have the highest idea of the spiritual and refined sentiments of this reverent gentleman, from the single-stroganist character, which I think comes up to any of the honest refinements of the Pieler's Night of Lamanca, whom by the by with all his funnies, I love more and would actually have gone further to have paid a visit to, than the greatest hero of antiquity. But this is not the moral of my story. The thing I had in view was to show the temper of the world in the whole of this affair. For you must know that so long as this explanation would have done the part of credit, the devil and soul could find it out. I suppose his enemies would not, and that his friends could not. But no sooner did he bestermself in behalf of the midwife and paid the expenses of the ordinary's license to send her up, but the whole secret came out, every horse he had lost, and two horses more than every had lost. With all the circumstances of their destruction were known and distinctly remembered. The story ran like wildfire. The parson had a returning fit of pride, which had just teased him, and was going to be well-mounted once again in his life. And if it was so, displaying as the sun at noon day, he would pocket the expense of the license ten times tall the very first year, so that everybody was left to judge what were his views in this act of charity. What were his views in this, and ended every other action of his life, or rather, what were the opinions which floated in the brains of other people concerning it, was a thought which too much floated in his own, and too often broke in an upon his rest, when he should have been sound asleep. About ten years ago, this gentleman had the good fortune to be made entirely easy beyond that score, it being just so long since he left his barrage, the whole world at the same time behind him, and stands accountable to a judge of whom he will have no cause to complain. But there is a fatality at hand, the actions of some men, order them as they will, they pass through a certain medium, which is so twists and refracted in them from their two directions, that with all the tiredness to praise which erectitude of heart can give, the doers of them are nevertheless forced to live and die without it. Of the doers with which this gentleman was a painful example, but you know by what means this came to pass, and to make that knowledge of use to you, I insist upon it, that you read the two following chapters which contain such a sketch of his life and conversation, as will carry its moral along with it. When this is done, if nothing stops us in our way, we will go on with the midwife. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Chandy Gentlemen by Lawrence Stern Chapter 11 Yorick was this Parsons name, and what is very remarkable in it, as appears from a most ancient account of the family, wrote upon strong vellum, and now in perfect preservation. It had been exactly so spelt for near, I was within an ace of saying nine hundred years, but I would not shake my credit in telling an improbable truth, however indisputable in itself, and therefore I shall content myself with only saying, it has been exactly so spelt without the least variation or transposition of a single letter, for I do not know how long, which is more than I would venture to say of one half of the best surnames in the kingdom, which in a course of years have generally undergone as many chops and changes as their owners. Has this been owing to the pride, or to the shame of the respective proprietors? In honest truth I think sometimes to the one and sometimes to the other, just as the temptation has wrought. But a villainous affair it is, and will one day so blend and confound us all together that no one shall be able to stand up and swear that his own great-grandfather was the man who did either this or that. This evil had been sufficiently fenced against by the prudent care of the York's family, and their religious preservation of these records I quote, which do further inform us that the family was originally of Danish extraction, and had been transplanted into England as early as the reign of Horwen Dillis, king of Denmark, in whose court it seems an ancestor of this Mr. York's, and from whom he was linearly descended, held a considerable post to the day of his death. Of what nature this considerable post was, this record sayeth not, it only adds that for near two centuries it had been totally abolished, as altogether unnecessary, not only in that court, but in every other court of the Christian world. It has often come into my head that this post could be no other than that of the king's chief jester, and that Hamlet's York, in our Shakespeare, many of whose plays, you know, are founded upon authenticated facts, was certainly the very man. I have not the time to look into Saxo-Grammaticus's Danish history to know the certainty of this, but if you have leisure, and can easily get at the book, you may do full as well your self. I had just time in my travels through Denmark with Mr. Naughty's eldest son, whom in the year 1741 I accompanied as Governor, riding along with him at a prodigious rate through most parts of Europe, and of which original journey performed by us too, a most delectable narrative will be given in the progress of this work. I had just time, I say, and that was all, to prove the truth of an observation made by a long sojourner in that country, namely, that nature was neither very lavish, nor was she very stingy in her gifts of genius and capacity to its inhabitants, but, like a discreet parrot, was moderately kind to them all, observing such an equal tenor in the distribution of her favors, as to bring them in those points pretty near to a level with each other, so that you will meet with few instances in that kingdom of refined parts, but a great deal of good plain household undertaking amongst all ranks of people of which everybody has a share, which is, I think, very right. With us, you see, the case is quite different. We are all ups and downs in this matter. You are a great genius. Orch is fifty to one, sir. You are a great dunce in a blockhead. Not that there is a total want of intermediate steps. No. We are not so irregular as that comes to, but the two extremes are more common, and in a greater degree in this unsettled island, where nature and her gifts and dispositions of this kind is most whimsical and capricious, fortune herself not being more so in the bequest of her goods and chattels than she. This is all that ever staggered my faith in regard to Yorick's extraction, who, by what I can remember of him, and by all the accounts I could ever get of him, seem not to have had one single drop of Danish blood in his whole crisis. In nine hundred years it might possibly have all run out. I will not philosophize one moment with you about it, for happen how it would, the fact was this, that instead of that cold flim, an exact regularity of sense and humours you would have looked for in one so extracted, he was, on the contrary, as mercurial and sublimated a composition, as hetero-clyde a creature in all his declensions, with as much life and whim, and gaieté de coeur about him, as the kindliest climate could have engendered and put together. With all this sale poor Yorick carried not one ounce of ballast, he was utterly unpracticed in the world, and at the age of twenty-six knew just about as well how to steer his course in it as a romping, unsuspicious girl of thirteen. So that upon his first setting out the brisk gale of his spirits, as you will imagine, ran him foul ten times in a day of somebody's tackling, and as the grave and more slow-paced were oftenest in his way, you may likewise imagine, twas with such he had generally the ill luck to get the most entangled. For ought I know there might be some mixture of unlucky wit at the bottom of such fracas, for to speak the truth, Yorick had an invincible dislike and opposition in his nature to gravity, not to gravity as such, but for where gravity was wanted he would be the most grave or serious of mortal men for days and weeks together. But he was an enemy to the affectation of it, and declared open war against it, only as it appeared a cloak for ignorance, or for folly, and then whenever it fell in his way, however sheltered and protected he seldom gave it much quarter. Sometimes in his wild way of talking he would say that gravity was an errant scoundrel, and he would add, of the most dangerous kind too, because a sly one, and then he verily believed more honest, well-meaning people were bubbled out of their goods and money by it in one twelve month than by pocket-picking and shoplifting in seven. In the naked temper which a merry heart discovered he would say there was no danger, but to itself. Whereas the very essence of gravity was design, and consequently deceit, it was a taut trick to gain credit of the world for more sense and knowledge than a man was worth, and that with all its pretensions. It was no better, but often worse, than what a French wit had long ago defined it. These, a mysterious carriage of the body to cover the defects of the mind, which definition of gravity, York with great imprudence would say, deserved to be wrote in letters of gold. But, in plain truth, he was a man unhackneyed and unpracticed in the world, and was altogether as indiscreet and foolish on every other subject of discourse where policy is wont to impress restraint. York had no impression but one, and that was what arose from the nature of the deed spoken of, which impression he would usually translate into plain English without any paraphrases, and too oft without much distinction of either person, time, or place, so that when mention was made of a pitiful or an ungenerous proceeding, he never gave himself a moment's time to reflect who was the hero of the peace, what his station, or how far he had power to hurt him hereafter. But if it was a dirty action, without more ado, the man was a dirty fellow, and so on. And as his comments had usually the ill fate to be terminated either in a bon mot, or to be enlivened throughout with some drollery or humor of expression. It gave wings to York's indiscretion. In a word, though he never sought yet, at the same time, as he seldom shunned occasions of saying what came uppermost, and without much ceremony, he had but too many temptations in life of scattering his wit and his humor, his jibes and his jests about him. They were not lost for want of gathering. What were the consequences, and what was York's catastrophe thereupon? You will read in the next chapter. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF JISDOM SHENDEY GENTLEMAN VOLUME I by Lauren Stern CHAPTER XII The Morgager and Morgagy differ the one from the other, not more in length of purse than the Jester and Jestidu in that of memory, but in this the comparison between them runs, as the Scolius called it, upon all four, which by the by is upon one or two legs more than some of the best of home as come pretend to, namely, that one raises a sum and the other a laugh at your expense, and think no more about it. Interest, however, still runs on in both cases. The periodica, or accidental payment of it, just serving to keep the memory of the affair alive, till at length, in some evil hour, pub comes a creditor upon each, and by demanding principle upon the spot, together with full interest to the very day, makes them both feel the full extent of their obligations. As a reader, for I hate your raves, has a thorough knowledge of human age, I need not say more to satisfy him, that my hero could not go on at this rate without some slight experience of these incidental mementos. To speak the truth, he had wantonly involved himself in a multitude of small book debts of this stamp, which, notwithstanding Eugenius's frequent advice, he too much disregarded, thinking that as not one of them was contracted through any malignancy, but on the contrary, from an honesty of mind, and the mere dracundity of humour, they would all of them be crossed out in cause. Eugenius would never admit this, and would often tell him that to one day or other he would certainly be reckoned with, and he would often add, in an accent of sorrowful apprehension, to his utter most might. To idioric, with his usual carelessness of heart, would as often answer with a psa, and if the subject was started in the fields, with a hop-skip and a jump at the end of it, but if close pent up in the social chimney-corner, where the culprit was barricaded out in, with a table and a couple of armchairs, and could not so readily fly off in a tangent, Eugenius would then go on with his lecture upon discretion, in words to this purpose, though somewhat better put together. Trust me, dear Eugenius, this unwary pleasantry of Zion will sooner or later bring thee in discrepancies and difficulties, which no after-wit can extricate thee out of. And these sellies too oft I see it happens, that a person laughed at, considers himself in the light of a person injured, with all the rites of such a situation belonging to him, and when thou viewest him in that light too, and reckons up his friends, his family, his kindred and allies, and musters up with them, the many recruits which were listened to him from sands of common danger, there's no extravagant arrhythmic to say, that for every ten jokes, thou hast got a hundred enemies, until thou hast gone on and raised a swarm of wasps above thou ears, and art half-stung to death by them, thou wilt never be convinced it is so. I cannot suspect it in the man whom I esteem, that there is a least spur from spleen or malevolence of intent in these sellies, I believe and know them to be truly honest and sportive, but consider, my dear lad, that fools cannot distinguish this, and that nature will not, and thou knowest not what it is, either to provoke the one or to make marry with the other. Whenever they associate for mutual defence, depend upon it, they will carry on the war in such a manner against thee, my dear friend, as to make thee heartily sick of it, and of thy life too. Revenge from some baneful corner shall level a tale of dishonour at thee, which no innocence of heart or integrity of conduct shall set right. The fortunes of thou house shall totter, thy character which let the way to them shall bleed on every side of it, thy face questioned, thy words be light, thy wit forgotten, thy learning trampled on. To end up the last scene of thy tragedy, cruelty and cowardice, trend ruffians hide and set on by malice in the dark, shall strike together at all thy infirmities and mistakes. The best of us, my dear lad, lie open there, and trust me, trust me, Oric, when to gratify a private appetite, it is once resolved upon that an innocent and a helpless creature shall be sacrificed. It is an easy matter to pick up stakes in you from any sticket where it has strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with. Yorick scarce ever heard, though said for destination of his destiny read over to him, but with a tear stealing from his eye, and a promissory look attending it, said it was resolved for the time to come to write his tit with more sobriety. But alas! too late! A grand confederacy with blank and blank at the head of it was formed before the first prediction of it. The whole plan of the attack, just as Eugenius had foreboded, was put in execution all at once with so little mercy on the side of the allies, and so little suspicion in Yorick of what was carrying on against him, that when he thought, good easy man, full surely preferment of though ripening, they had smote his root and then he fell, as many a worthy man had fallen before him. Yorick, however, fought it out with all imaginable gallantry for some time, till overpowered by numbers and worn out at length by the calamities of the war, but more so by the ingenerous manner in which it was carried on. He threw down the sword, and though he kept up his ferrets in appearance to the last, he died, nevertheless as was generally thought, quite brokenhearted. What inclined Eugenius to the same opinion was as follows. A few hours before Yorick breezes his last, Eugenius stepped in with an intent to take his last side and last farewell of him. Upon his drawing Yorick's curtain, and asking how he felt himself, Yorick, looking up in his face, called of his hand, and after thanking him for the many tokens of his friendship to him, for which he said, if it was their fate to meet hereafter, he would thank him again and again, he told him, it was within a few hours of giving his enemies the slip for ever. I hope not, answered Eugenius, with tears trickling down his cheeks, and with the tenderest tones that ever meant spoke. I hope not, Yorick, said he. Yorick replied with a look up, and a gentle squeeze of Eugenius's hand, and that was all, but it cut Eugenius to his heart. Come, come, Yorick! Of course, Eugenius wiping his eyes, and summoning up the man within him. My dear lad, be comforted. Let not all thy spirits and fortitude forsake thee, as this crisis, when thou most want them. Who knows what resources are in store, and what the power of God may yet do for thee? Yorick laid his hand upon his heart, and gently shook his hand. For my part, continued Eugenius, crying bitterly as he uttered the words. I declare, I know not, Yorick, how to part with thee, and would gladly flutter my hopes, added Eugenius, cheering up his voice, that there is still enough left of thee to make a bishop, and that I may live to see it. I beseeched thee, Eugenius. Of course, Yorick, taking of his nightcap as well as he could with his left hand, is right, being still grasped close in that of Eugenius. I beseeched thee, to take a few with my head. I see nothing that ails it, replied Eugenius. Then I last, my friend, said Yorick, let me tell you, that a so rose turned misshapen'd with the blows which, blank and blank, and some others have so unhandsomely given me in the dark, as I might say with Saint Japanter, that should I recover, and might as thereupon be suffered to rain down from heaven, as thick as hail, not one of them would fit it. Yorick's last breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart, as he uttered this. Yet still it was uttered with something of a syventic tone, and as he spoke it, Eugenius, could perceive a stream of lemon fire, lighted up for a moment in his eyes, faint picture of those flashes of his spirit, which, as Shakespeare said of his ancestor, were one to set the table in a row. Eugenius was convinced of this, that a heart of his friend was broke. He squeezed his hand, and then walked softly out of his room, weeping as he walked. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door. He's enclosed to them, and to never open them more. He lies buried in the corner of his jerkart, in the parish of Blanc, under a plain marble slab which is friend Eugenius, by leave of his executors laid upon his grave, with no more than these three words of inscription, serving both for his epitess and elegy. Alas! poor Yorick! Ten times a day has Yorick's ghost, to consolation to hear his monumental inscription read over, with such a variety of plaintive tones, as he noted general pity and esteem for him. A footway crossing the jerkart, closed by the side of his grave, not a passenger goes by without stopping to cast a look upon it, and sighing as he walks on. Alas! Poor Yorick! Insert two black pages. End of chapter 12. Chapter 13 to 14 of Tristram Shandy Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman Volume 1 by Laurence Stone, chapters 13 and 14. It is so long since the reader of this rhapsodical work has been parted from the midwife, that it is high time to mention her again to him, merely to put him in mind that there is such a body still in the world, and whom, upon the best judgment I can form, upon my own plan at present, I am going to introduce to him for good and all. But, as fresh matter may be started, and much unexpected business fall out betwixt the reader and myself, which may require immediate dispatch, was right to take care that the poor woman should not be lost in the meantime, because when she is wanted, we can no way do without her. I think I told you that this good woman was a person of no small note and consequence throughout our whole village and township, that her fame had spread itself to the very out edge and circumference of that circle of importance of which kind every living soul, whether he has a shirt on his back or no, has one surrounding him. Which said circle, by the way, whenever it is said that such one is of great weight and importance in the world, I desire may be enlarged and contracted in your worship's fancy in a compound ratio of the station profession knowledge, abilities, height, and depth, measuring both ways of the personage brought before you. In the present case, if I remember, I fixed it about 4 or 5 miles, which not only comprehends the whole parish, but extends itself to 2 or 3 of the adjacent hamlets in the skirts of the next parish, which made a considerable thing of it, I must add, but she was, more over, very well looked on at one large, grange house, and some other odd houses and farms within 2 or 3 miles, as I said from the smoke of her own chimney. But I must hear, once for all, inform you that all this will be more exactly delineated and explained in a map, now in the hands of the engraver, which, with many other pieces and developments of this work, will be added to the end of the 20th volume. Not to swell the work, I detest the thought of such a thing, but by way of commentary, scolium, illustration, and key to such passages, incident, and innuendos, as shall be thought to be either of private interpretation or of dark or doubtful meaning. After my life and opinions shall have been read over, now don't forget the meaning of the word by all the world, which betwixt you and me, and in spite of the gentleman reviewers in Great Britain, and all that their worships shall undertake to write or say to the contrary, I am determined shall be the case. I need not tell your worship that all this is spoke in confidence. Upon looking into my mother's marriage settlement, in order to satisfy myself, and reader, in a point necessary to be cleared up, before we could proceed any farther in this history, I had the good fortune to pop upon the very thing I wanted, before I had read a day and a half straight forward, it might have taken me up a month, which shows plainly that when a man sits down to write a history, though it be but the history of Jack Hickey Thrift or Tom Thumb, he knows no more than his heels what lets and confounded hindrances he is to meet with in his way, or what a dance he may be led by one excursion or another before all is over. Could a historiographer drive on his history as a mule tear drives on his mule straight forward, for instance, from Rome all the way to Loretto, without ever turning his head aside, either to the right hand or to the left hand, he might venture to foretell you to an hour when he should get to his journey's end. But the thing is, morally speaking impossible, for if he is a man of the least spirit, he will have fifty deviations from a straight line to make with this or that party as he goes along, which he can no ways avoid. He will have fuse and prospects to himself perpetually soliciting his eye, which he can no more help standing still to look at than he can fly. He will moreover have various accounts to reconcile, anecdotes to pick up, inscriptions to make out, stories to weave in, traditions to sift, personages to call upon, panagyrics to paste up at his door, pasquanades at that, all which both the man and his mule are quite exempt from. To summer pool, there are archives at every stage to be looked into and roles, records, documents, and endless genealogies which justice ever in and on calls him back to stay the reading of. In short, there is no end of it. For my own part, I declare I have been at it these six weeks, making all the speed I possibly could and am not yet born. I have just been able, and that's all, to tell you when it happened but not how, so that you see the thing is yet far from being accomplished. These unforeseen stoppages which I own, I had no conception of when I first set out, but which I am convinced now, will rather increase than diminish as I advance, have stuck out a hint which I am resolved to follow, and that is not to be in a hurry, but to go on leisurely writing and publishing two volumes of my life every year, which if I am suffered to go on quietly and can make a tolerable bargain with my bookseller, I shall continue to do as long as I live. End of chapters 13 to 14. Chapter 15 of Tristham Shandy Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Julifa Malchem. The Life and Opinions of Tristham Shandy, Gentleman Volume 1 by Lauren Stern Chapter 15 The article in my mother's marriage settlement, which I told the reader I was at pains to search for, and which now that I have found it, I think proper to lay before him, is so much more fully expressed in the deed itself than ever I can pretend to do it, that it would be barbarity to take it out of the lawyer's hand. It is as follows, and this indenture further witness it, that a set of Walter Shandy merchant, in consideration of the set intended marriage to be had, and by God's blessing to be well and truly solemnised and consummated between the set Walter Shandy and Elizabeth Molinaille aforesaid, and diverse other good and valuable causes and consideration, him thereunto specially moving, thus grant, covenant, condescent, consent, conclude, bargain, and fully agree to, and with John Dixon and James Turner, as wise, the above-named trustees, etc., etc., to wit, that in case it should hereafter so fall out, chance happen or otherwise come to pass, that the set Walter Shandy merchant shall have left off business before the time or times, that the set Elizabeth Molinaille shall, according to the cause of nature, or otherwise, have left off bearing and bringing forth children, that in consequence of the set Walter Shandy having so left off business, he shall, in despite and against the free will, consent, and good liking of the set Elizabeth Molinaille, make a departure from the city of London, in order to retire to and well upon his estate at Shandy Hall, in the country of Blank, or at any other country seed, Castle, Hall, Mansion House, Message, or Grange House now purchased, or hereafter to be purchased, or upon any part or parcel thereof. That is then, and as often as the set Elizabeth Molinaille shall happen to be in saint with child or children, severely unlawfully begot, or to be begotten, upon the body of the set Elizabeth Molinaille during her stay-coveture, he, the set Walter Shandy, shall, at his own proper cost and charges, and out of his own proper monies, upon good and reasonable notice, which is hereby agreed, to be, within six weeks of her, the set Elizabeth Molinaille's, full reckoning, or time of supposed and computer delivery, pay or course to be paid, the sum of one hundred and twenty pounds of good and lawful money, to John Dixon and James Turner, Esquire's, or her signs, upon trust and confidence, and fall and unto the use and uses, intent, and and purpose following. That is to say, that the set sum of one hundred and twenty pounds shall be paid unto the hands of the set Elizabeth Molinaille, or to be otherwise applied by them, the set trustees, for the well and truly harrowing of one coach, with able and sufficient horses, to carry and convey the body of the set Elizabeth Molinaille, and the child or children, which she shall be then and there in saint and pregnant with, and to the city of London, and for the further paying and defraying of all other incidental costs, charges and expenses whatsoever, in and about, and for, and relating to, her set intended delivery and lying in, in the set city, or suburbs thereof. And that the set Elizabeth Molinaille shall and may, from time to time, and at all such time and times, as are here covenanted and agreed upon, peaceably and quietly, hire the set coach and horses, and have free ingress, egress, and regress, throughout her journey, in and from the set coach, according to the tenor, true intent, and meaning of these presence, without any let, suit, trouble, disturbance, molestation, discharge, hindrance, forfeiture, eviction, vexation, interruption, or encumbrance whatsoever. And a child moreover be lawful to, and for, the set Elizabeth Molinaille, from time to time, and as often or often, as she shall well and truly be advanced in her set pregnancy, to the time here to force, stipulated and agreed upon, to live and reside in such place or places, and in such family or families, and with such relations, friends, and other persons within the set city of London, as she, at her own will and pleasure, not withstanding her present coventure, and as if she was a thumb-soul and unmarried, shall think fit. And this indenture, further witnesses, that for the more effectually caring of the set covenant into execution, the set Walter Shandy, merchant, thus here by grant, Bargain, sell, release, and confirm unto the set John Dixon and James Turner, as choirs, there as, executors, and assigns, in the actual possession now being, by virtue, of an indenture of Bargain and sale for a year to them, the set John Dixon and James Turner as choirs, by him the set Walter Shandy, merchant, thereof made, which is set Bargain and sale for a year, bears date, the day next before the date of these presents, and by force and virtue of the statute, for transferring of uses into possession, all that a manner and lordship of Shandy in the candy of blank, with all the rites, members, and appurtenances thereof, and all and every the messages, houses, buildings, barns, stables, orchards, gardens, back-sides, tofts, crofts, garths, cottages, lands, meadows, feedings, pastures, marshes, commons, woods, under woods, drains, fisheries, waters, and watercourses, together with all rents, reversions, services, annuities, fee farms, nights of fees, views of frank pledge, asheets, reliefs, mines, quarries, goods, and chettles of felons and fugitives, felons of themselves, and put in exigent, didons, free warrants, and all other royalties and seniories, rites and jurisdictions, privileges, and hair-determines whatsoever, and also the advowson, donation, presentation, and free disposition of the rectory or passage of Shandy aforesaid, and all and every the tenth, tithes, glee-blends, and three words, my mother was to lay in if she chose it in London. But in order to put a stop to the practice of any unfair play on the part of my mother, which a marriage article of this nature too manifestly opened the door to, and which indeed had never been thought of at all, but former uncle Toby Shandy, a clause was added in security of my father, which was this, that in case my mother hereafter should, at any time, put my father to the trouble and expense of a London journey, upon false cries and tokens, that for every such instance, she should forfeit all the right and title which the Covenant gave her to the next turn, but in no more, and so on, Totie's quoties, as in effectual a manner, as if such a covenant betwixt to them had not been made, this, by the way, was no more than what was reasonable, and yet as reasonable as it was, I have ever thought it hard that a whole weight of the article should have fallen entirely, as it did, upon myself. But I was begotten born to misfortunes, for my poor mother, whether it was wind or water, or a compound of both, or neither, or whether it was simply the mere swell of imagination fancy in her, or how far a strong wish and desire to have it so, might mislead a judgment, in short, whether she was deceived or deceiving in this matter, it no way becomes to me to decide. The fact was this, that in the later end of September 1717, which was the year before I was born, my mother having carried to my father up to town much against grain, he parameterily insisted upon the clause, so that I was doomed, by marriage articles, to have my nose squeezed as flat to my face, as if the destinies had actually spawned me without one. How this event came about, and what a train of exacious disappointments in one state or other of my life have pursued me from the mere loss or rather compression of this one single member shall be laid before the reader all in due time. and of chapter 15 chapter 16 to 17 are Tristram Shandy volume 1 this is a LibriVox recording, a LibriVox recording is written in the public domain, for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Vera Niela life and opinions of Tristram Shandy gentleman volume 1 by Lorne Mrn chapter 16 to 17 chapter 16 my father, as anybody may naturally imagine, came down with my mother into a country and got a pettish kind of a humour. The first 20 or 5 and 20 miles he did nothing at all but friendlies himself and indeed my brother too, about the cost expense, which he said might every feeling of it haven't saved, then right back to him more than everything else was, the provoking time of the year which as I told you was toward the end of September when his wall fruit and green gauges especially in which he was very curious were just ready for pulling. Had he been whistled up to London upon a tomfles errand in any of the months of the whole year he should not have said three words about it. From next to whole stages the subject would go down but the heavy blow he had sustained from loss of a son whom it seems he had fully reckoned upon his mind and had stood down in his rocket boat as the second star for his old age. In case Bobby should fail him, the disappointment of this he said was 10 times more to a wise man than all the money which the journey etc had cost him but together brought the 120 pounds he did not mind it a rush. From Stilton all the way to Grantham nothing in the whole affair provoked him so much as condolences of his friends and the foolish failure they should both make at the church the first Sunday of which it was said to recall the hymn of his wit. Now sharpened it all by vexation who it gave so many humorous and provoking inscriptions and placed a strip and self into any tormenting lights and endures in the face of the whole congregation that my mother declared. These two stages were so truly tragic and mechanical that she did nothing but laugh and cry in the breath from one end to the other of them all the way from Grantham until they had crossed the trends my father was out of all kinds of patience at the valentry and imposition which he fancied my mother had put upon him in this affair. Certainly would say to himself over and over again the woman could not be deceived herself if she could but weakness tormenting word which let his imagination at only dance and before all was over played the juice and all with him. For sure as a father what weakness was utter and struck full upon his brain so should accept him upon running exhibitions upon how many kinds of weaknesses there were that there was such a thing as weakness of body as well as weakness of mind and then he wouldn't do nothing but search eyes but then for himself our stage of two together how far the cause of all these fixations might or might not have arisen out of himself. In short he had so many little subjects of disquietude swinging out of this one affair or fretting successively in his mind as they rose up in it then my mother whatever was a journey up had been an easy journey of it down in the word as she complains to my uncle Toby who would have tired out the patience of any flesh life. Chapter 17 Don't my father travel home as I tell you in none of the best of mood shawing and pissing all the way down yet yet the complacence to keep the worst part of the story still to himself which was a resolution had taken after in himself a justice which my uncle Toby's cause in the marriage settlement powered him nor was it till the very night in which I was begot which was 13 months after that she had the least intimation of his design when the father happening as you remember to be a little shagrant and out of temper to occasion as they trust and grieve in bed afterwards talking over what was to come to let her know that she must accommodate herself as well as she could to the bargain made between them and their marriage seats which was to lie in of her next child in the country to balance the last year's journey. My father was a gentleman of many virtues but he had a strong spice of that in his temper which might or might not at all the number just known by the name of perseverance and a good class and effort to see in the background of this my mother had so much knowledge that she needed to us to know purpose to make a human monstrance so she resolved to sit down quietly and make the most of it. End of chapter 16 17. Chapter 18 of Tristram Chandy volume one This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Shuley for Malachem The Life and Opinions of Tristram Chandy Gentlemen volume one by Lauren Stern Chapter 18 As the point was at night agreed, or rather determined, that my mother should lie in of me in the country, she took her measures accordingly. For which purpose, when she was a three days or thereabouts gone with the child, she began to cast her eyes upon the midwife, whom you have so often heard me mention. And before the week was well got round, as the famous doctor Manningham was not to be had, she had come to a final determination in her mind. Notwithstanding, there was a scientific operator within so near a call as eight miles of us, and who, moreover, had expressly wrote at far shillings book upon the subject of midwifery, in which she had exposed not only the blunders of the sisterhood itself, but had liked my super-edit many curious improvements for the quicker extraction of the feeders and crossbursts, and some other cases of danger which belay us in getting into the world. Notwithstanding all this, my mother, I say, was absolutely determined to trust her life and mine with it, and in no soul's hand, but this old woman's only. Now, this I like, when we cannot get at the very thing we wish, never to take up with the next best and agree to it. No, that's pitiful beyond description. It is no more than a week from this very day, in which I am now writing this book, for the edification of the world, which is March 9th, 1759, that my dear, dear Jenny, observing I looked as a grave, as she stood cheapening a silk of five and twenty shillings a yard, told the mercies she was sorry she had given him so much trouble, and immediately went and bought herself a yard-wide stuff of ten pens a yard. It is a duplication of one and the same greatness of soul. Only what lessened the honor of it somewhat in my mother's case, was that she could not harrow in it and deserve violent and hazardous and extreme, as one in her situation might have wished, because the old midwife had really some little claim to be dependent upon. As much, at least, as success could give her, having in the cause of a practice of near twenty years in the parish, brought every mother's son of them into the world, without any one slip or accident which could fairly belay to her account. These facts, though they had their weight, yet did not altogether satisfy some few scruples and uneasinesses which hung upon my father's spirits in relation to this choice. To say nothing of the nettle workings of humanity and justice, or of the yearnings of parental and conurbial love, all which prompted him to leave as little to hazard as possible in the case of this kind, he felt himself concerned in a particular manner, that all should go right in the present case, from the accumulated sorrow he lay open to, should any evil behind his wife and child in lying in a chandy hall. He knew the world judged by events, and would add to his afflictions in such a misfortune, by loading him with the whole blame of it. Alas, a day, that Mrs. Chandy, poor gentlewoman, had but her wish in going up to town just to lie in and come down again, which they say she begged and prayed for upon her bare knees, and which, in my opinion, considering the fortune which Mrs. Chandy got with her, was no such mighty matter to have complied with, the lady and her babe might both of them have been alive at this hour. This exclamation, my father knew, was unanswerable, and yet it was not merely to shelter himself, nor was it altogether for the care of his offspring and wife that he seemed so extremely anxious about this point. My father had extensive use of things, and stood to-morrow over, as he thought, deeply concerned in it for the public good from the dread he entertained of the bad users an ill-fated instance might be put to. It was very sensible that all political writers upon the subject had unanimously agreed and lamented, from the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign down to his own time, that a current of man and money towards a metropolis, upon one frivolous errand or another, set in so strong as to become dangerous to our civil rights, though by the by a current was not the image he took most delight in. A distemper was here his favourite metaphor, and he would run it down into a perfect allegory by maintaining it was identically the same in the body national as in the body natural, where the blood and spirits were driven up into the head faster than they could find their ways down. A stoppage of circulation must ensue which was death in both cases. There was little danger, you would say, of losing our liberties by French politics or French invasions, nor was he so much in pain of a consumption from the mass of corrupted matter and ulcerated humours in our constitution, which he hoped was not so bad as it was imagined. But he very feared that in some violent push we should go off all at once in a state apoplexy, and then he would say the Lord have mercy upon us all. My father was never able to give the history of this distemper without the remedy along with it. Was I an absolute prince, he would say, pulling up his reaches with both his hands as he rose from his armchair? I would appoint able judges at every avenue of my metropolis which would take cognizance of every fool's business who came there. And if, upon a fair and candid hearing, it appeared not of weight sufficient to leave his own home, and come out back and baggage with his wife and children, farmers, sons, et cetera, et cetera, at his backside, they should all be sent back from constable like vagrants as they were to the place of their legal settlements. By this means I shall take care that my metropolis tottered not, through its own weight, that had been no longer too big for the body, that the extremes now wist it and pined in be restored to their due share of nourishment, and regain with it the natural strength and beauty. I would effectively provide that the meadows in cornfields of my dominions should laugh and sing, that good cheer and hospitality flourish once more, and that such weight and influence be put thereby into the hands of the squareality of my kingdom, I should counter-poise or die-perceive my nobility and outtaking from them. Why are they so few palaces and gentlemen's seats? He would ask with some emotion as he walked across the room, throughout so many delicious provinces and fronds. Whence is it that a few remaining chateaus amongst them are so dismantled, so unfurnished, and in so ruinous and desolate a condition? Because, sir, he would say, and that kingdom, no man has any country interest to support, so little interest of any kind which any man has anywhere in it, is concentrated in the court and the looks of the Grand Monarch. By the sunshine of host countenance, or the clouds which pass across it, every French man lives or dies. Another political reason which prompted my father so strongly to guard against the least evil accident in my mother's lying in in the country, was that any such instance would infallibly throw a balance of power too great already, into the weaker vessels of the gentry, in his own all-higher stations, which, with the many other usurped rights which is at part of the constitution was hourly establishing, would, in the end, prove fatal to the monarchyal system or domestic government established in the first creation of things by God. At this point, he was entirely of Sir Robert's Filmer's opinion, such a plans and institution of the greatest monarchies in the eastern parts of the world, were originally all stolen from that admiral petter and prototype of this household and paternal power, which, for a century, he said, and more, had gradually been degenerating away into a mixed government, the form of which, however desirable in great combinations of the species, was very troublesome in small ones, and seldom produced any things that he saw but sorrow and confusion. For all these reasons, private and public, put together, my father was for having the man midwife by all means, my mother by no means. My father becked and entreated. She would for once recede from her prerogative in this matter and suffer him to choose for her. My mother, on the contrary, insisted upon a privilege in this matter to choose for herself, and have no more to help but the old woman's. What could my father do? He was almost at his wit's end, talked it over with her in all moods, placed his arguments in all lights, argued it's a matter with her like a Christian, like a husband, like a father, like a patriot, like a man. Then my mother answered every thing only like a woman, which was a little hard upon her, for as she could not assume and fight it out behind such a variety of characters, does no fair match, does seven to one. What could my mother do? She had the advantage, otherwise she had been certainly overpowered, of a small reinforcement of chagrin personal at the bottom which bore her up, and enabled her to dispute the affair with my father, with so equal an advantage, that both sides sung tidium. In a word, my mother was to have the old woman, and the operator was to have licensed to drink a bottle of wine with my father and my uncle Toby Shandy, and the bagpala, for which it was to be paid five guineas. I must beg leave, before I finish this chapter, to enter a cave yet in the breast of my fair reader, and it is it is, not to take it absolutely for granted, from an unguarded word or two which I have dropped in it, that I am a married man. I own the tender appellation of my dear, dear Jenny, which is some other strokes of conjugal knowledge, and dispersed here and there might, naturally enough, have misled the most candid judge in the world into such a determination against me. All I plead for, in this case, madam, is strict justice, and that you do so much of it, to me as well as to yourself, as not to prejudge, or receive such an impression of me till you had better evidence, than I am positive at present, can be produced against me. Not that I can be so vain, or unreasonable, madam, as to desire you should therefore think, that my dear, dear Jenny is my kept mistress. No, that would be flattering my character in the other extreme, and giving it an air of freedom which perhaps it has no kind of right to. All I contend for, is the utter impossibility for some volumes, that you, or the most penetrating spirit upon earth, should know how this matter really stands. It is not impossible, but that my dear, dear Jenny, tender as the appellation is, may be my child. Consider, I was born in the year eighteen, nor is there anything unnatural, or extravagant in this supposition, that my dear Jenny may be my friend. Friend? My friend? Surely, madam, as friendship between the two sexes may subsist, and be supported without, fie, Mrs. Jenny! Without anything, madam, but that tender and delicious sentiment, which ever makes is in friendship, where there is a difference of sex. Let me entreat you to study the pure and sentimental parts of the best French romances. It are really, madam, astonishing you to see with what a variety of chaste expressions this delicious sentiment which I have the honour to speak of, is dressed out. End of Chapter 18, Chapter 19 of Tristram Shandy, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chulis van Wallachem. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentlemen, Volume 1 by Lauren Stern. Chapter 19 I would sooner undertake to explain the hardest problem in geometry, than pretend to account for it, said a gentleman of my father's great good sense, knowing, as a reader must have observed him, and curious too, in philosophy, wise also in political reasoning, and in polemical, as he will find, no way ignorant, could be capable of entertaining a notion in his head, so out of the common track, that I fear the reader, when I come to mention it to him, if he is the lease of a choleric temper, will immediately throw the book by. If mercurial, you will laugh most heartily at it, and if he is of a grave and Saturn and cast, he will, at first sight, absolutely condemn as fanciful and extravagant. And that was in respect to the choice and imposition of Christian names, on which he thought a great deal more dependent, than what superficial minds were capable of conceiving. His opinion in this matter was, that there was a strange kind of magic bias, which could, or bad, names, as he called them, irresistibly impressed upon our characters in conduct. The hero of Cervantes argued not the point with more seriousness, nor had he more faith, or more to say on the powers of necromancy in dishonouring his deeds, or on Deltinia's name in shedding luster upon them than my father had on those of Trismigistus or Archimedes, on the one hand, or of Naikai and Simkin on the other. How many seers and pompies, he would say, by mere inspiration of the names, have been rendered worthy of them? And how many, he would add, are there who might have done exceedingly well in the world, had not their characters and spirits been totally depressed and egodemised into nothing? I see plainly, sir, by your looks, or as a case happened, my father would say that you do not hardly subscribe to this opinion of mine, which to those, he would add, who have not carefully sifted it to the bottom, I own has no more offences and of solid reasoning in it. And yet, my dear sir, if I may presume to know your character, I am morally assured I should hazard little in stating a case to you, not as a party and the dispute, but as a judge, and dressing my appeal upon it to your own good sense and candid disquisition in this matter. You are a person free from as many narrow prejudices of education as most men, and if I may presume to penetrate further into you, of a liberality of genius above bearing down an opinion merely because it wants friends, your son, your dear son, from his sweet and open temper you have so much to expect, your billy sir, would you for the world have called him Judas? Would you, my dear sir, he would say, laying his hands upon your breast, with a gentiless address, and in that soft and irresistible piano of voice, which of the nature of the argumentum at hominem, absolutely requires, would you, sir, if a Jew of a godfather had proposed the name for your child, and offered you his purse along with it, would you have consented to such a desecration of him? Oh, my God, he would say, looking up, if I know your temper, right, sir, you are incapable of it, you would have trampled upon the offer, you would have thrown the temptation at the tamter's head with abhorrence. Your greatness of mind in this action, which I admire, with that generous contempt of money which you show me in the whole transaction is really noble, and what renders it more so, is the principle of it, the workings of a parent's laugh upon the truth and conviction of this very hypothesis, namely, that was your son called Judas, the sordid and treacherous idea so inseparable from the name, would have accompanied him through life like his shadow, and in the end made a miser and a rascal of him, in spite, sir, of your example. I never knew a man able to answer this argument. But indeed, to speak of my father as he was, he was certainly irresistible, both in his orations and disputations, he was born an orator. Teodidactos, persuasion hung upon his lips, and the elements of Lodric and rhetoric were so blended up in him, and with all he had so shrewd guess at the weaknesses and passions of his despondent, that nature might have stood up and said, this man is eloquent. In short, whether he was on the weak or the strong side of the question, does hazardous in either case do attack him? And yet, as strange, he had never at Cicero, nor Quintilian, de oratory, nor Isocratis, nor Aristotle, nor Longinus amongst the ancients, nor Vosius, nor Skiopius, nor Ramus, nor Farnaby amongst the moderns. And what is more astonishing? He had never in his whole life the least light or spark of subtlety struck into his mind, by one single lecture upon Crecganthorpe, or Berger's dishes, or any Dutch logicians or commentator. He knew not so much as in what the difference of an argument at ignorantium, and an argument at hominem, consisted, so that I well remember when he went up along with me to enter my name at Jesus College in Blank, it was a matter of just wonder with my worthitude, and two or three fellows of that learned society, that a man who knew not so much as the names of his tools should be able to work after that fashion with him. To work with him in the best manner he could was what my father was, however, perpetually forced upon. For he had a thousand little skeptical notions of the comic kind to defend, most of which notions I very really believe at first entered upon the footing of mere whims, and of a viv la bagatelle, and as such he would make merry with them for half an hour or so, and having sharpened his wit upon them dismissed them till another day. I mentioned this not only as a matter of hypothesis or conjecture upon the Berger's and establishment of my father's many old opinions, but as a warning to the learned reader against the indiscreet reception of such guests, who after a free and undisturbed entrance for some years into our brains, at length claim a kind of settlement there, working sometimes like yeast, but more generally after the manner of the gentle passion beginning in jest, but ending in downright earnest. Whether this was a case of the singularity of my father's notions, or that his judgment at length became the dupe of his wit, or how far in many of his notions he might, though odd, be absolutely right, the reader as he comes at them shall decide. All that I maintain here is that in this one of the influence of Christian names, however it gained footing, he was serious, he was all uniformity, he was systematical, and like all systematic reasoners, he would move both heaven and earth, and twist and torture every thing in nature to support his hypothesis. In a word, I repeated over again, he was serious, and in consequence of it, he would lose all kind of patience whenever he saw people especially for condition who should have known better, as careless and as a certain different about the name they imposed upon their child, or more so, to name the joys of Ponto or Cupid for their puppy dog. This, he would say, looked ill, and had moreover this particular aggravation in it, the delicate, that when one's vile name was wrongfully or injudiciously given, does not like the case of a man's character which, when wronged, might hereafter be cleared, and possibly some time or other, if not in a man's life, at least after his death, be somehow or other set to rights with the world, but the injury of this, he would say, could never be undone. Nay, he doubted even whether an act of parliament could reach it. He knew, as well as you, that a leg is littered, assumed a power over surnames, but for very strong reasons, which he could give, it had never yet adventured, he would say, to go a step further. It was observable that, though my father, in consequence of this opinion, had, as I have told you, the strongest likings and dislikings towards certain names, that there were still numbers of names which hung so equally in the balance before him, that they were absolutely indifferent to him. Jack, Dick, and Tom were of this class. These my father called neutral names, affirming of them without a satire, that there had been as many maves and fools, at least, as wise as good men, since the world began, who had indifferently borne them, so that, like equal forces acting against each other in contrary directions, he thought they mutually destroyed each other's effects, for which reason he would often declare, he would not give a cherry stone to choose amongst them. Bob, which was my brother's name, was another of these neutral kinds of Christian names, which operated very little either way, and as my father happened to be at absent when it was given him, it was of times in thank heaven it was no worse. Andrew was something like a negative quantity in algebra with him, but as worse, he said, than nothing. William stood pretty high, and arms again was low with him, and Nick, he said, was the devil. But of all the names in the universe, he had the most unconquerable aversion for Tristram, he had the lowest and most contemptible opinion of it, of anything in the world, thinking it could possibly produce nothing in rerum natura, but what was extremely mean and pedophile. Says that in the midst of a dispute on the subject, in which, by the by, he was frequently involved, he would sometimes break off in a sudden and spirited epiphanema, or rather eroticis, raise the third and sometimes a full fifth above the key of the discourse, and demanded, categorically of his antagonist, whether he would take upon him to say he had ever remembered, whether he had ever read, or even whether he had ever heard tell of a man called Tristram, performing anything great or worth of recording, no, he would say. Tristram, this thing is impossible. What could be wanting in my father, but to have wrote a book to publish this notion of his to the world? Little Buddha to the subtle speculist, to stand single in his opinions, unless he gives them proper fend. It was the identical thing which my father did, for in the year 16, which was two years before I was born, he was at a pace of writing an express dissertation simply upon the word Tristram, showing the world with great candour and modesty the grounds of his great abhorrence to the name. When this story is compared with the title page, will not a gentle reader pity my father from his soul to see an orderly and well-exposed gentleman, who is so singular yet inoffensive in his notions, so played upon in them by cross-purposes, to look down upon the stage and see him baffled, and overthrown in all his little systems and wishes, to behold a train of events perpetually falling out against him, and in so critical and cruel a way, as if they had perversely been planned and pointed against him, merely to insult his speculations, in a word, to behold such a one in his old age, ill-fitted for troubles, ten times in a day's suffering sorrow, ten times in a day calling the child of his prayers, Tristram, melancholy to syllable of sound, which to his ears was unisoned to nincompoop, and every name of it operative under heaven. By his ashes I swear it, if ever malignant spirit took pleasure or busied itself in traversing the purposes of mortal man, it must have been here. And if it was not necessary I should be born before I was christened, I with this moment give the reader an account of it.