 Chapter 71-75 of Strystrum Shandy Volume 3. This is LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shaleefa Malachem. The Life and Opinions of Strystrum Shandy Gentlemen Volume 3 by Lauren Stern. Chapter 71. Maingotobi took the ivory pipe out of the cobra's hand, looked at it for half a minute and returned it. In less than two minutes, Maingotobi took the pipe from the cobra again and raised it halfway to his mouth, then hastily gave it back a second time. The cobra redubbled the attack. Maingotobi smiled, then looked grave, then smiled for a moment, then looked serious for a long time. Give me hold of the ivory pipe trim, said Maingotobi. Maingotobi put it to his lips, drew it back directly, gave a peep over the horned beam hedge. Never did Maingotobi's mouth water so much for a pipe in his life. Maingotobi retired into the sentry box with the pipe in his hand. Dear Uncle Toby, don't go into the sentry box with the pipe. There's no trusting a man's self with such a thing in such a corner. Chapter 72. I beg the reader will assist me here to wheel off Maingotobi's ordinance behind the scene. To remove his sentry box and clear the theatre, if possible, of horned works and half moons and get the rest of his military apparatus out of the way. That done, my dear friend Garrick, will snuff the candles bright, sweep the stage with a new broom, draw up the curtain and exhibit Maingotobi dressed in a new character, through out which the world can have no idea how he will act and yet, if pity be akin to love and bravery no alien to it, you have seen enough of Maingotobi in these to trace these family likenesses betwixt the two passions, in case if there is one, to your heart's content. Veinsigns, thou assisted us in no case of this kind, and thou puzzled us in every one. There was, Madam, in Maingotobi, a singleness of heart, which must let him so far out of the lesser serpentine tracks in which things of this nature usually go on. You can, you can have no conception of it. Was this? There was a plainness and simplicity of thinking, with such an unrestrastling ignorant of the plies and foldings of the heart of a woman, and so naked and defenseless did he stand before you, when a siege was out of his head, that you might have stood behind any one of your serpentine walks, and shot Maingotobi ten times in a day through his liver, if nine times in a day, Madam, had not served your purpose. With all this, Madam, and what confounded everything as much on the other hand, Maingotobi had that unparalleled modesty of nature I once told you of, and which by and thereby, stood eternal sentry upon his feelings, that might as soon, but where am I going? These reflections crowd in upon me ten pages at least too soon, and take up that time which I ought to bestow upon facts. Chapter 73 After few legitimate sons of Adam whose breasts never felt what a sting of love was, maintaining first all misogynists to be bastards, the greatest hearers of ancient and modern story have carried off amongst them nine parts in ten of Diana, and I wish over their sakes I had the key of my study out of my draw well, only for five minutes to tell you their names, recollect them I cannot, so be content to accept of these for the present in their stead. There was a great king Aldrovandus, and Bosphorus, and Cappadocius, and Dardanus, and Pontus and Aegis, to say nothing of the iron-hearted Charles XII, whom the countess of Cay herself could make nothing of. There was Babylonicus, and Mediterraneanus, and Polyxenas, and Persecus, and Brosecus, not one of whom except Cappadocius and Pontus, who were both a little suspected, ever once bowed down his breast to the goddess. The truth is, they had all of them something else to do, and so had my ingotobi, till fate, till fate I say, envying his name, the glory of being handed down to posterity, was Aldrovandus' and the rest, she basically patched up the piece of Utrecht. Believe me sirs, it was the worst deed she did that year. Chapter 74 Amongst the many ill consequences of the Treaty of Utrecht, it was within a point of giving my ingotobi a surfeit of sieges, and though he recovered his appetite afterwards, yet Calais itself left not a deep scar in Mary's heart, then Utrecht upon my ingotobi's. To the end of his life, he never could hear Utrecht mentioned upon any count whatever, or so much as read an article of news extracted out of the Utrecht Gazette, without fetching a sigh, as if his heart would break in twain. My father was a great motive monger, and consequently a very dangerous person for a man to sit by, either laughing or crying, for he generally knew your motive for doing both, much better than you knew it yourself, would always console my ingotobi upon these occasions, in a way which should plainly imagine to my ingotobi grief for nothing in the whole affair, so much as the loss of his hobby horse. Never mind, brother toby, he would say, by God's blessing we shall have another war break out again some of these days, and when it does, the belligerent powers, if they would hang themselves, cannot keep us out of play. I defyre my dear toby, he would add, to take countries without taking towns, or towns without sieges. My ingotobi never took this backstroke of my father's at his hobby horse kindly. He thought the stroke ungenerous, and the more so, because in striking the horse, he hit the rider too, and at the most dishonoral part, a bloke at full, so that upon these occasions he always laid down his pipe upon the table, with more fire to defend himself than common. I told the reader, this time two years, that my ingotobi was not eloquent, and in the very same page, gave an instance to the country. I repeat the observation, and the fact which contradicts it again. He was not eloquent, it was not easy to my ingotobi to make long harangs, and he hated storied ones, but there were occasions where to steam overflowed the man, and ran so counter to his usual calls, that in some parts my ingotobi, for a time, was at least equal to Turtulus, but in others, in my own opinion, infinitely above him. My father was so highly pleased with one of these apologetical orations of my ingotobies, which he had delivered one evening before him and Yorick, that he wrote it down before he went to bed. I have had the good fortune to meet with it amongst my father's papers, but here and there an insertion of his own betwixt to crooks, thus, and is endorsed, my brother's tobies justification of his own principles and conduct in wishing to continue the war. I may safely say, I have read over this apologetical oration of my ingotobies a hundred times, and think it's so fine a model of defence, and show so sweet a temperament of gallantry and good principles in him, that I give it the world word for word, in delineations and all, as I find it. Chapter 75. My ingotobies apologetical oration. I am not insensible, brother Shandy, that when a man whose profession is armed wishes as I have done for war, it has an ill aspect to the world, and that how just and right so ever his motives, the intentions may be, he stands in an uneasy posture in vindicating himself from private views in doing it. For this cause, if a soldier is a prudent man, which he may be, without being a jot the last brave, he will be sure not to utter his wish in the hearing of an enemy, for saying what he will, an enemy will not believe him. He will be cautious of doing it even to a friend, lest he may suffer in his esteem, but if his heart is overcharged and a secret sigh for arms must have its fend, he will reserve it for the ear of a brother, who knows his character to the bottom, and what his true notions, dispositions and principles of honour are. What I hope I have been in all these, brother Shandy, would be unbecoming in me to say, much worse I know, have I been that I ought, and something worse perhaps than I think. But such as I am you, my dear brother Shandy, who have sucked the same breasts with me, and with whom I have been brought up from my cradle, and from whose knowledge, from the first hours of our boyish pastimes down to this, I have concealed no one action of my life, and scarce a thought in it. Such as I am, brother, you must by this time know me, with all my vices, and with all my weaknesses too, whether of my age, my temper, my passions or my understanding. Tell me then, my dear brother Shandy, upon which of them it is, that when I condemned the peace of Utrecht, and grieved the war was not carried on with the vigor a little longer, you should think your brother did it upon unworthy views, or that in wishing for war he should be bad enough to wish more of his fellow creature slain, more slaves made, and more families driven from their peaceful habitations merely for his own pleasure. Tell me, brother Shandy, upon what one deed of mine do you crowned it? The devil indeed do I know of, dear Toby, but one for a hundred pounds which I lent thee to carry on these cursed teegers. If, when I was a schoolboy, I could not hear a drumbeat but my heart beat with it, was it my fault? Did I plant the propensity there? Did I sound the alarm within all nature? When Guy, Earl of Warwick, and Parismus, Abrasminus, and Valentine in Orson, and the seven champions of England were handed round the school, was they not all purchased with my own pocket money? Was it that selfish, brother Shandy, when we read over the siege of Troy, which lasted ten years and eight months, though was such a train of artillery as we had at Namur, the town might have been carried in a week? Was I not as much concerned for the destruction of the Greeks and Trojans as any boy of the whole school? Had I not three strokes of a ferola given me two on my right hand and one on my left for calling Helena a bitch for it? Did any one of you shed more tears for Hector, and when King Thrym came to the camp to back his body and returned weeping back to Troy without it? You know, brother, I could not eat my dinner. Did that bespeaking cruel? Because, brother Shandy, my blood flew out into the camp and my heart pounded for war, was it to prove it could not ache for the distresses of war too? Oh, brother, it is one thing for a soldier to gather laurels, and it is another to scatter south breast. Who, told thee, my dear Toby, that our breast was used by the ancients on mortal occasions? It is one thing, brother Shandy, for a soldier to hazard his own life, to leap first down into the trench where he is sure to be cut in pieces. It is one thing from public spirit and a thirst of glory to enter the breach of the first man to stand to the foremost rank and march bravely on with drums and trumpets and colours flying about his ears. It is one thing, I say, brother Shandy, to do this, and it is another thing to reflect on the miseries of war, to view the desolations of all countries and consider the intolerable fatigues and hardships which of the soldier himself, the instrument who works with them, is forced for six months a day if he can get it to undergo. Need I be told, dear Yorick, as I was by you in Lefeve's funeral sermon, that so soft and gentle a creature, born to love, to mercy and kindness, as man is, was not shaped for this? But why did you not add, Yorick, if not by nature, that yes so by necessity? For what is war? What is it, Yorick, when fought as ours has been, upon principles of liberty, and upon principles of honour? What is it but getting together of quiet and harmless people with their swords in their hands to keep the ambitious and the turbulent within bounds? And heaven is my witness, brother Shandy, that a pleasure I have taken in these things, and that infinite delight in particular, which has attended my sieges in my bowling green, has rose within me, and I hope in the corporal too, from the consciousness we both had, that in carrying them on, we were answering the great ends of our creation. End of chapter 71, 275. I told the Christian reader, I say Christian, hoping he is one, and if he is not, I am sorry for it, and only back he will consider the matter with himself, and not to lay the blame entirely upon this book. I told him sir, for in good truth, when a man is telling a story in the strange way I do mine, he is obliged continually to be going backwards and forwards to keep all tied together in the reader's fancy. Which, from my own part, if I did not take he to do more than at first, there is so much unfixed and equivocal matter starting up, with so many breaks and gaps in it, and so little servers do the stars afford, which nevertheless I hang up in some of the darkest passages, knowing that a world is apt to lose its way with all the light the sun itself at noonday can give it, and now you see I am lost myself. But it is my father's fault, and whenever my brains come to be dissected, you will perceive without spectacles that he has left a large uneven thread, as you sometimes see in an unsaylable piece of cambrake, running along the whole length of the web, and so untowardly you cannot so much as cut our day. Here I hang up a couple of lights again, or a filet, or a thub stall, but at a scene all felled. Quanto id diligentias, in liberis procriandis cavendum, says Carden, all which being considered, and that you see it is morally impracticable for me to wind this round to where I set out. I begin the chapter over again. Chapter 77 I told the Christian reader in the beginning of the chapter which preceded Maingotobi's apologetical oration, though in a different trope from what I should make use of now, that a piece of Utrecht was within an ace of curating the same shyness betwixt Maingotobi and his hobby-horse, as it did betwixt the queen and the rest of the confederating powers. There is an indignant way in which a man sometimes dismount his horse, which, as good as says to him, I'll go forth, sir, all the days of my life before I would ride a single mile upon your back again. Now Maingotobi could not be said to dismount his horse in this manner, for in strictness of language, he could not be said to dismount his horse at all. His horse rather flung him, and somewhat viciously, which made Maingotobi take it ten times more unkindly. Let this matter be settled by state jockeys, as they like. It created, I say, a sort of shyness betwixt Maingotobi and his hobby-horse. It had no occasion for him from the month of March to November, which was the summer after the articles were signed, except it was now and then to take a short ride out, just to see that fortifications and harb of Dunkerg were demolished according to stipulation. The French were so backward all that summer in setting about that affair, and Monsieur Dug, the deputy from the magistrate of Dunkerg, presented so many effecting petitions to the queen, besieging her majesty to cause only her thunderbols to fall upon the matterworks, which might have incurred her displeasure, but to spare, to spare the mole, for the mole's sake, which, in its naked situation, could be no more than an object of pity. And the queen, who was but a woman, being of a pitiful disposition, and her ministers also, they not wishing in their hearts to have the town dismantled for these private reasons. Blank, blank, blank, blank, blank, blank, blank. So, that whole went heavily on with Maingotobi, in so much that it was not within three full months after he and the corporal had constructed the town, and put it in a condition to be destroyed, that a several common dance, commissaries, deputies, negotiators and intendants would permit him to set about it. Fatal interval of inactivity. The corporal was for beginning the demolition, by making a breach in the ramparts, or main fortifications of the town. No, that will never do, corporal, said Maingotobi, for in going that way to work with the town, the English garrison will not be safe in it in our, because of the French are treacherous. They are treacherous as devils, and please your honour, said corporal. It gives me concern always when a hero trim, said Maingotobi, for they don't want personal bravery, and if a breach is made in the ramparts, they may enter it, and make themselves masters of the place when they please. Let them enter it, said corporal, lifting up his finest spade in both his hands, as if he was going to lay about him with it. Let them enter, and please your honour, if they dare. In cases like this, corporal, said Maingotobi, slipping his right hand down to the middle of his cane, and holding it afterwards, drenching wise, with his forefinger extended. There's no part of the consideration of commandant, what the enemy dare, or what they dare not do, he must act with prudence. We will begin the artworks both towards the sea and the land, and particularly with Ford Louie, the most distant of the mole, and demolish it first. And the rest, one by one, both on our right and left, as we retreat towards the town, then we'll demolish the mole, next fill up the harbour, then retire into the citadel, and blow it up into the air, and having done said corporal, we'll embark for England. We are there, quote the corporal, recollecting himself. Barid rho, said Maingotobi, looking at the church. Chapter 78 It elusive, delicious consultation or two of this kind, between Maingotobi and Trim, upon the demolition of Dunkirk, for a moment rallied back the ideas of those pleasures which were slipping from under him. Still, still all went on heavily, the magic left the mind of the weaker. Stillness, with a silence at her back, entered the solitary parlour, and drew their gauzy mantre over Maingotobi's head, and listlessness, with her lex fibre and undirected eye, sat quietly down beside him in his armchair. No longer Amberg and Renberg, and Lamborg, and Huey, and Bonn in one year, and the prospect of London and Trierberg, and Rusyn and Dendermont the next, hurried on the blood. No longer did saps and mines and blinds in gabions and palisados keep out this fair enemy of man's repose. No more could Maingotobi, after passing the French lines, as he had his ache as supper, from then to break into the heart of France, cross over the oise, and with his old Picardie open behind him, march up to the gate of Paris, and fall asleep with nothing but ideas of glory. No more was he to dream. He had fixed the royal standard upon the tower of the Bastille, and awake was it streaming in his head. Softe visions, gentler visions still sweetly in upon the slumbers, the trumpet of war fell out of his hands. He took up the lewt, sweet instrument, of all others the most delicate, the most difficult. How wilt thou touch it, my dear Ancotobi? Chapter 79 Now, because I have once or twice said, in my inconsiderate way of talking, that I was confident the following memoirs of Maingotobi's courtship of widow Wetman, whenever I got time to write them, would turn out one of the most complete systems both of the elementary and practical part of love and lovemaking that ever was addressed to the world, are you to imagine from thence that I shall set out with the description of what love is, whether part God or part devil as Platonist will have it, or by more critical equation and opposing the whole of love to be as ten to determine with Fikinos how many parts of it the one and how many the other, or whether it is all of it one great devil from head to tail as Plato has taken upon him to pronounce concerning which conceit of his I shall not offer my opinion. But my opinion of Plato is this, that he appears from this instance to have been a man of much the same temper and way of reasoning with Dr Baynard, who, being a great enemy to blistis, as imagining that half a dozen of them at once would draw a man as surely to his grave as a hearse and six, rashly concluded, that a devil himself was nothing in the world but one great bouncing chemtheredist. I have nothing to say to people who allow themselves this monstrous liberty in arguing but what Nade Jensson cried out, that is, polemically, defilagrious, chsuge, or rare, tis fine reasoning so indeed, haughty, philosophies and patesi, and most nobly do you aim at truth when you philosophise about it in your moods and passions. Nor is it to be imagined for the same reason I should stop to inquire whether love is a disease or employing myself with racist and Dioscorides, whether the seed of it is in the brain or liver, because this would lead me on to an examination of the two very opposite manners in which patients have been treated. The one of Aesius, who always begun with a cooling glint of hemp seed and bruised cucumbers, and followed on with thin potatoes of water lilies and purslane, to which he added a pinch of snuff of the herb, a hernia, and where Aesius does ventured his tapardring. The other, that of Godonius, who in his capital ffifteens, the amore, directs they should be threshed at putwrem usqui till they stink again. These are dispositions which my father, who had laid in a great stock of knowledge of this kind, will be very busy with in the progress of mangotobi's affairs. I must anticipate, thus much, that from his theories of love, with which by the way he contrived to crucify mangotobi's mind almost as much as his amores themselves, he took a single step into practice, and by means of camphorated seocloth, which he found mean to impose upon the tailor for buckrum, whilst he was making mangotobi a new pair of breeches, he produced Godonius's effect upon mangotobi without the disgrace. What changes this produced will be read in its proper place, or that is needable to be added to the anecdote, is this, that whatever effect it had upon mangotobi, it had a vile effect upon the house, and if mangotobi had not smoked down, as he did, it might have had a vile effect upon my father too. CHAPTER 80 When I can get on no further, and find myself entangled on all sides of this mystic labyrinth, my opinion will then come in in cause, and lead me out. At present I hope I shall be sufficiently understood in telling the reader my ungotobi fell in love. Not that a phrase is at all to my liking, for to say a man is fallen in love, or that he is deeply in love, or up to the ears in love, and sometimes even overhead and ears in it, carries an idiomatical kind of implication that love is a thing below a man. This is recurring, he ain't to play to his opinion, which with all his divinity ship, I ought to be damnable and heretical, and so much for that. Let love therefore be what it will, my ungotobi fell into it, and possibly, gentle reader, with such a temptation, so would thou, for never did thy eyes behold, or thy concupitions covered anything in this world more concupisible than a widow-weterman. End of Chapters 76 to 80. Chapters 81 to 84 of Tristwm Shandy Vol. 3. 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 Shulliva Mulliam. The Life and Opinions of Tristwm Shandy, Gentleman, Vol. 3 by Lauren Stern. Chapter 81. To conceive this right, call for pen and ink, his paper ready to your hand. Sit down, sir, paint her to your own mind, as light your mistress as you can, as unlight your wife as your conscience will let you. It is all one to me. Please, put your own fancy in it. Blank page. Was ever anything in nature so sweet, so exquisite. Then, dear sir, how could my Uncle Toby resist it? Thrice happy book, thou wilt have one page at least within thy covers, which a malice will not blacken and which ignorance cannot misrepresent. Chapter 82. As Susanna was informed by an express from Mrs Bridget of my Uncle Toby's falling in love with a mistress fifteen days before it happened, the contents of which express Susanna communicated to my mother the next day. It had just given me an opportunity of entering upon my Uncle Toby's amores a fortnight before their existence. I have an article of news to tell you, Mr Shandy, goes to my mother, which will surprise you greatly. Now, my father was then holding one of his second beds of justice, and was musing within himself about the hardships of matrimony as my mother broke silence. My brother Toby, crochet, is going to be married to Mrs Wordman. Then he will never, growth my father, be able to lie dagonally in his bed again as long as he lives. It was a consuming vexation to my father, that my mother never asked the meaning of a thing she did not understand. That she is not a woman of science, my father would say, is her misfortune, but she might ask a question. My mother never did. In short, she went out of the world at last, without knowing whether it turned round or stood still. My father had officiously told her above a thousand times which way it was, but he always forgot. For these reasons, it is cause Southern went on much further betwixt to them than a proposition, a reply and a rejoinder, at the end of which it generally took breath for a few minutes, as in The Affair of the Breaches, and there went on again. If he marries, Toby the wise for us, growth my mother. Not a cherry stone, said my father. He may as well better away his means upon that, as anything else. To be sure, said my mother. So I hear and the proposition, the reply and the rejoinder I told you of. It will be some amusing to him too, said my father. A very great one answered my mother, if he should have children. Lord have mercy upon me, said my father to himself. Chapter 83 I am now beginning to get fairly into my work, and by the help of a vegetable diet, with a few of the called seeds, I make no doubt that I shall be able to go on with my Uncle Toby's story and my own in a tolerably straight line. Now, four very squiggly lines across the page, signed INVTS and SCWTS. These were the four lines I moved in through my first, second, third and fourth volumes, alluding to the first edition. In the fifth volume, I have been very good. The precise line I have described in it being this, one very squiggly line across the page, with loops marked A, B, C, C, C, C, C, D. My widget appears, that except at the curve marked A, where I took a trip to Navarre, and the indented curve B, which is the short airing when I was there with a Lady Boussière and a page, I have not taken the least risk of a digression till John de Lacasse's devils let me the round you see marked D. For, as for C, C, C, C, C, C, they are nothing but parenthesis, and the common ins and outs incident is the lives of the greatest ministers of state, and when compared with what men have done, or with my own transgressions at the latter's ABD, they vanish into nothing. In this last volume, I have done better still, for from the end of Lephivus Ephiteau to the beginning of my Uncle Toby's campaigns, I have scarce stepped a yard out of my way. If I meant at this raid, it is not impossible, by the good leaf of his grace of Benevento's devils, but I may arrive hereafter at the excellency of going on even thus. Straight line across the page. Which is a line drawn as straight as I could draw it, by writing master's ruler, borrowed for that purpose, turning nicer to the right hand or to the left. This right line, the pathway for Christians to walk in, say, defines, the emblem of moral rectitude, says Cicero. The best line, say Cabbage Plansers, is the shortest line, says Archimedes, which can be drawn from one given point to another. I wish your ladyships would lay this matter to hard in your next birthday suits. What a journey! Pray, can you tell me, that is, without anger, before I ride my chapter upon straight lines, by what mistake, who told them so, or how it has come to pass, that your men of wit and genius have all along confounded this line with the line of gravitation? Chapter 84. No. I think I said, I would ride two volumes every year, provided the vile cuff which then tormented me, and which to this hour I dread worse than the devil, would but give me leave, and in another place, but where, I can't recollect now. Speaking of my book as a machine, and laying my pen and ruler down crosswise upon the table, in order to gain the greater credit to it, I swore it should be kept going at that rate these forty years, if it pleased but the fountain of life to bless me so long with health and good spirits. Now, as for my spirits, little have I to lay to their charge, may so very little, unless demounting me upon a long stick, and playing the fool with me nineteen hours out of the twenty-four, be accusations, that on the contrary, I have much, much to thank him for. Joly, have you made me dread the path of life with all the burdens of it, except its cares upon my back, and no one moment of my existence that I remember have you once deserted me, or tinged the objects which came in my way, either with sable, or with sickly cream, in dangers ye gilded my horizon with hope, and when death himself knocked at my door, you bet him come again. And in so gay a tone of careless indifference did ye do it, that ye doubted of his commission. There must certainly be some mistake in this matter, grows he. Now there is nothing in this world I abominate worse than to be interrupted in a story, and I was at that moment telling Eugenius a most tawdry one in my way of a nun who fancied herself a shellfish, and of a monk damned for eating a muscle, and was showing him the grounds and justice of the procedure. Did ever so grave a personage get into so vilous crabe, growth, death, and thou hast had a narrow escape-drestrum, said Eugenius, taking hold of my hand as I finished my story. But there is no living Eugenius, replied I, at this raid, for as this son of a whore has found out of my lodgings, you call him rightly, said Eugenius, for by sin we are told he entered the world, I cannot which way he entered, because I provided he be not in such a hurry to take me out with him, for I have forty volumes to write, and forty thousand things to say and do, which nobody in the world will say and do for me except thyself. And as thou cease he has got me by the float, for Eugenius could scarce hear me speak across the table, and that I am no match for him in the open field, had I not better, whilst these huge scattered spirits remain, and these two spider legs of mine, holding one of them up to him, are able to support me, had I not better, Eugenius, fly for my life? Does my advice, my dear Drestrum, said Eugenius, then my heaven I will lead him a dance he little thinks of, for I will gallop, because I, without looking once behind me, to the banks of the Garon, and if I hear him clattering at my heels, I'll scumper away to Mount Vesuvius, from thence to Joppa, and from Joppa to the Walsent, where if he follows me, I pray God he may break his neck. He runs more risk there, said Eugenius, than thou. Eugenius's wooden defection brought a blot into the cheek from whence it had been some months banished. Does a vile moment bid at you in? He led me to my chase. I'll all, said I. The post boy gave a crack with his whip. Off I went like a cannon, and in half a dozen bounds got into Dover. End of chapters 81 to 84. Chapters 85 to 88 of Drestrum Shandey Volume 3. This is LibriVox recording or LibriVox recording during the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shalifon Walliam. The Life and Opinions of Drestrum Shandey Gentlemen Volume 3 by Lauren Stern. Chapter 85. Now hang it, cos I, as I look towards the French coast, a man should know something of his own country too, before he goes abroad, and I never gave a peep into a Rochester church, or took notice of the dog of Chatham, or visited St Thomas at Canterbury, though they all free laid in my way. But mine indeed is a particular case. So, without arguing the matter further, with Thomas a Beckett, or anyone else, I skipped into the boat, and in five minutes we got under sail and scutted away like the wind. Pray captain, cos I, as I was going down into the cavern, is a man never overtaken by death in this passage? Why, there's not time for a man to be sick in it, reply he. What a cursed liar, for I am sick as a horse, cos I already, what a brain upside down. Hey, day, the cells are broke loose, one into another, and the blood, and the lymph, and the nervous juices, with the fixed and volatile salts, are all jumbled into one mass. Good God, everything turns round in it, like a thousand whirlpools. I'd give a shilling to know if I shan't write the clearer for it. Sick, sick, sick, sick. When shall we get to land, captain? They have hearts like stones. Oh, I am deadly sick. Reach me third thing, boy. It is most discomforting sickness. I wish I was at the bottom. Madam, how is it with you? And done, and done, and... Oh, and done, sir. What, a first time? No, it is a second, third, sixth, tenth time, sir. Hey, day, water-trampling overhead. Hello, cabin boy, what's the matter? The wind chopped about. It's death. Then I shall meet him full in the face. What luck, this chopped about again, master. Oh, the devil chopped it. Captain, cos she, for heaven's sake, let us get ashore. Chapter 86. It is great inconvenience to a man in haste, that there are three distinct roads between Calais and Paris, in behalf of which there is so much to be said by the several deputies from the towns which lie along them, that half a day is easily lost in settling which you'll take. First, the road by Lille and Arra, which is most bad, but most interesting and instructing. The second, that by Amiens, which you may go if you would see Chantilly, and that by Beauvais, which you may go if you will. For this reason, a great man had chosen to go by Beauvais. Chapter 87. Now, before I quit Calais, a trial writer would say, it would not be a mistake if some account of it. Now, I think it very much a miss, that a man cannot go quietly through town and let it alone, when it does not meddle with him, but that he must be turning about and drawing his pen at every canal he crosses over, merely a conscience for the sake of drawing it. Because if we may judge from what has been road of these things by all who have roading galloped, or who have galloped and road, which is a different way still, or who, for more expedition than the rest, have road galloping, which is a way I do at present, from the great Edison who did it with his satchel of school books, hanging at his ars, and galling his beast's cropper at every stroke, there is not a galloper of us all who might not have gone on ambling quietly in his own ground, in case you had any, and have rode all he had ride, dry shot, as well as not. For my own part, as heaven is my judge at which I shall ever make my last appeal, I know no more of Calais except the litter my barber taught me of it as he was wetting his razor, than I do this moment of Grand Cairo. For it was dusky in the evening when I landed, and darkest pitch in the morning when I set out, and yet by merely knowing what is what, and by drawing this from that and one part of the town, and by spelling and putting this and that together in another, I would lay any travelling odds that I this moment ride a chapter upon Calais, as long as my arm, and with a so distinct and satisfactory detail of every item, which is worse a stranger's curiosity in the town, that you would take me for the town clerk of Calais itself, and where, sir, would be the wonder, was not democraters who laughed ten times more than I, town clerk of Abdera, and was not, I forget his name, who had more discretion than us both, town clerk of Ephesus. It should be pant more over, sir, was a so much a knowledge, and good sense, and truth, and precision. Nay, if you don't believe me, you may read the chapter for your pains. Chapter 88. Calais, Galadium, Galasium, Galasium. This town, if you may trust its archives, the authority of which I see no reason to call in question in this place, was once no more than a small village, belonging to one of the first towns in Guinea, and as it boasts at present of no less than 14,000 inhabitants, exclusive for 420 distinct families in the Basvili, or suburbs, it must have grown up by little and little, I suppose, to its present size. Though there are four convents, there is but one parochial church in the whole town. I had not an opportunity of taking its exact dimensions, but it is pretty easy to make a tolerable conjecture of them, for, as if there are 14,000 inhabitants in the town, if the church holds them all, it must be considerably large, and if it will not, it is a very great pity they have not another. It is built in form of a cross and dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the steeple, which has aspired to it, is placed in the middle of the church, and stands upon four pillars elegant and light enough, but sufficiently strong at the same time. It is decorated with eleven altars, most of which are rather fine than beautiful. The great altar is a masterpiece in its kind, it is of white marble, and as I was told, near sixty feet high, had it been much higher, it had been as high as Mount Calvary itself, therefore I suppose it must be high enough in all conscience. There was nothing struck me more than a great square, though I cannot say it is either well paved or well built, but it is in the heart of the town, and most of the streets, especially those in that quarter, all terminate in it. Could there have been a fountain in all Calais, which it seems there cannot, as such an object would have been a great ornament, it is not to be doubted, but that the inhabitants would have heard it in the very centre of this square, not that it is properly a square, because it is forty feet longer from east to west than from north to south, so that the French in general have more reason on their side in calling them plus than squares, which strictly speaking, to be sure, they are not. The townhouse seems to be but a sorry building, and not to be kept in the best repair, otherwise it had been a second great ornament to this place. It answers, however, its destination, and serves very well for the reception of the magistrates who assemble in it from time to time, so that this presumable justice is regularly distributed. I have heard much of it, but there is nothing at all curious in the Gorgas. It is a distinct quarter of the town, inhabited solely by sailors and fishermen. It consists of a number of small streets neatly built and mostly of brick, this extremely populous, but as that may be accounted for by the principles of their diet, there is nothing curism that neither. A traveller may see it to satisfy himself. He must not omit, however, taking notice of La Tour de Goe, upon any account, to so-called from its particular destination, because in war it serves to discover and give notice of the enemies, which approach at the place either by sea or land. But as monstrous high and catches the eye so continually, you cannot avoid taking notice of it, if you would. It was a singular disappointment to me that I could not have permission to take an exact survey of the fortifications which are the strongest in the world, and which, from first to last, that is, for the time they were set about by Philip of France, Count of Bologna to the present war, wherein many reparations were made, have cast, as I learned afterwards, from an engineer in Guscany, above a hundred millions of livres. It is very remarkable that at the dead Gravelin and where the town is naturally the weakest, they have expended the most money, so that the outworks stretch a great way into the campaign and consequently occupy a large tract of ground. However, after all that is said and done, it must be acknowledged that Calais was never upon any count so considerably from itself as from its situation and that easy entrance which it gave our ancestors upon all occasions into France. It was not without its inconveniences also, being no less troublesome to the English in those times than Dunkirk has been to us in ours, so that it was deservedly looked upon as a key to both kingdoms, which no doubt is a reason that there have arisen so many contentions who should keep it. Of these, the siege of Calais, or rather the blockade, for it was shot up both by land and sea, was the most memorable, as it would stood the efforts of Edward III the whole year and was not terminated at last, but by famine and extreme misery. The gallantry of Eustas de Saint-Pierre, who first offered himself a victim for his fellow citizens, has ranked his name with heroes. As it will not take up above 50 pages, it would be injustice to his reader not to give him a minute account of that romantic transaction as well as of the siege itself in Rappan's own words. End of chapter 85 to 88. Chapters 89 to 94 of Tysiwm Shandy Volume 3. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording my Ashley from Malchem. The Life and Opinions of Tysiwm Shandy Gentlemen Volume 3 by Lauren Stan Chapter 89 But courage, gentle reader, I scorn it. There's enough to have thee in my power, but to make use of the advantage, which a fortune of dependents now gained over thee, would be too much. No, by that all-powerful fire which warms the visionary brain a knight of the spirit through unworldly tracts. Here I would force a helpless creature upon this hard service and make thee pay, poor soul, for fifty pages would I have no right to sell thee. Naked as I am, I would browse upon the mountains and smiles that the north wind brought me neither my tent or my supper. So put on my brave boy and make the best of thy way to Bologna. Chapter 90 Bologna. Ha! So we are all got together, daughters and sinners before heaven, a jolly set of us, but I can't stay and quaff enough with you. I pursued myself like a hundred devils and shall be overtaken before I can well change horses. For heaven's sake, make haste! Tis for high treason, quotes a very lesser man whispering as low as he could to a very tall man that stood next to him. Or else a murder, quotes a tall man. Well thrown, size ace, quotes I. No, quotes a third, the gentleman has been committing. Ah, my sherphy, said I, as she tropped by from her muttons. You look as a rosy as a morning, for the sun was rising, and it made the compliments more gracious. No, it can't be sad, quotes a fourth, she made a curtain to me, I kissed my hand. Tis debt, continuity, tis certainly for debt, quotes a fifth, I would not pay the gentleman's debts, quotes ace, for a thousand pounds, nor would I, quotes size, for six times the sum. Well thrown, size ace again, quotes I. But I have no debt, but a debt of nature, and I want but patience of her, and I will pay her every farthing I owe her. How can you be so heart-heated, madam, to arrest a poor traveller going along without monestation, to anyone upon his lawful occasion? Do stop the death-looking, long-striding scandal of a scare-sinner who is posing after me. He never would have followed me, but for you. If it be but for a stage or two, just to give me a start of him, I will see to you, madam, do dear lady. Now, in trust, there's a great pity, quotes my Irish host, that all this good courtship should be lost, and the young gentleman has been after going out of hearing of it all along. It's a simpleton, quotes I. So you have nothing else in Bologna you were seeing? By Jesus, there is a finest seminary for the humanities. They cannot be a finer, quotes I. Chapter 91 When the precipitancy of a man's wishes hurries on his ideas ninety times faster than the vehicle he writes in, wo be to truth, andro be to the vehicle and its tackling, let him be made of what stuff you will, upon which he breathes forth the disappointment of his soul. As I never give general characters either of man or things in colour, the most haste to worse speed was all the reflection I made upon the affair, the first time it happened, the second, third, fourth and fifth time, I confined it respectively to those times, and accordingly blamed only the second, third, fourth and fifth postboy for it without carrying my reflections further. But the event continuing to befall me from the fifth to the sixth, seventh, eighths, ninths and tenths time, and without one exception, I then could not avoid making a national reflection of it, which I do in these words. That something is always wrong in French post-chairs upon first sitting out. All the proposition may stand thus. A French pastillion has always too light before he has got three hundred yards out of town. What's wrong now? Diable. A robesbroke, a knotteslip, a staplesdrawn, a bolt-to-wittle, a tag, a rag, a jag, a strap, a buckle or a buckle's tongue want altering. Now, true as all this is, I never think myself empowered to excommunicate theropon either the post-chairs or its driver, nor do I take into my head to swear by the living God I would rather go food ten thousand times that I will be damned if ever I get into another. But I take them adequately before me and consider that some tag or rag or jag or bolt or buckle or buckle's tongue will ever be a wanting or want altering to have a where I will. So I never chaff, but take the good and the bad as if they fall in my road and get on. Do so, my lad, said I. He had lost five minutes already in alighting in order to get a luncheon of black bread which he had cramped into the chair's pocket and just remounted and going leisurely on to relish it the better. Get on, my lad, said I, briskly, but in the most persuasive tone imaginable, for I juggled a four in twenty soupies against a glass taking care to hold the flat side towards him as he looked back. The dog grinned intelligent from his right ear to his left and behind his sooty muzzle discovered such a pearly row of teeth that the serenity would have pawned to do us with them. Just heaven, what musticators, what bread! And so, as he finished the last mouthful of it, we entered the town of Montreux, chapter ninety-two. There is not a town in all France which, in my opinion, looks better in the Mab, than Montreux. I mean, it does not look so well in the book of post roads, but when you come to see it, to be sure it looks most pitifully. There is one thing, however, in it at present very handsome, and that is the innkeeper's daughter. She has been eighteen months at Amiens and six at Paris in going through her classes, so knits and so's and dances and does the lesser cookatries very well. A slut! In running them over within these five minutes that I have stood looking at her, she has let fall at least a dozen loops in a wide flat stocking. Yes, yes, I see you coming Gypsy. There's long and taper. You need not pin it to your knee. That is your own, and fit you exactly. That nature should have told this creature a word about a statues thumb. But as if this sample is worth all their thumbs. Besides, I have her thumbs and fingers in at the bargain. They can be any guide to me. And as Jean-Nadon with all, that is a name, stand so well for a drawing. May I never draw more, or rather, may I draw like a draw-tall by main strength all the days of my life if I do not draw her in all her proportions and with as determined pencil if I had her in the wattest drapery. But your worships choose rather that I give you the length, breadth and perpendicular height of the Great Paris Church or drawing of the façade of the yabi of Saint Austrobert, which has been transported from Artois Hither. Everything is just as I suppose as a masons and carpetants left them. And if they believe in Christ continue so long, well be so these fifty years to come. So your worships and references may all measure them at your leisure's. But he who measures the Jean-Nadon must do it now. Thou carryest the principles of change within thy frame, and considering the chances of a transitory life, I would not answer for thee a moment ere twice twelve months are passed and gone. Thou mays grow out like a pumpkin or lose thy shapes or thy mays go off like a flower and lose thy beauty. Nay, thy mays go off like a hussey and lose thyself. I would not answer for my aunt Diana or she alive. Faith scares for her picture, whereas but painted by Reynolds. But if I go on with my drawing after naming that son of Apollo, I'll be shot. So you must even be content with the original, which, if the evening is fine in passing through Montreux, you will see at your chair's door as you change horses. But unless you have as bad a reason for haste as I have, you had better stop. She has a little of the devote, but that, sir, is a thirst to a nine in your favour. Lord held me, I could not count a single point, so I had been peaked and re-peaked and caboted to the devil. Chapter 93 All witch being considered, and the death moreover might be much nearer me than I imagined, I wish I was at Abvil Cosay, right only to see how they card and spin. Sir, off we set. Vid. Book of French Post Roads. Page 36. Edition of 1762. De Montreux a Nampo Bostedimi. De Nampo a Bernet Bostedimi. De Bernet a Noviant Bostedimi. De Noviant a Abvil Bostedimi. But the carders and spinners were all gone to bed. Chapter 94 What a vast advantage is travelling. Only it heats one, that there is a remedy for that, which you may pick out of the next chapter. End of chapters 89 to 94. Chapters 95 to 99 of Tristram Shandy, volume 3. 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 Barry Eads. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman. Volume 3 by Lawrence Stern. Chapter 95 Was I in a condition to stipulate with death as I am this moment with my apothecary, how and where I will take his clyster, I should certainly declare against submitting to it before my friends, and therefore I never seriously think upon the mode and manner of this great catastrophe, which generally takes up and torments my thoughts as much as the catastrophe itself. But I constantly draw the curtain across it with this wish that the disposer of all things may so order it, that it happened not to me in my own house, but rather in some decent inn. At home I know it, the concern of my friends and the last services of wiping my brows and smoothing my pillow, which the quavering hand of pale affection shall pay me, will so crucify my soul that I shall die of a distemper which my physician is not aware of. But in an inn, the few cold offices I wanted would be purchased with a few guineys and paid me with an undisturbed but punctual attention. But, Mark, this inn should not be the inn at Abbeyville. If there was not another inn in the universe, I would strike that inn out of the capitulation. So, let the horses be in the chaise exactly by four in the morning. Yes, by four, sir, or by Genevieve, I'll raise a clatter in the house shall wake the dead. CHAPTER 96 Make them like unto a wheel is a bitter sarcasm as all a learned know against the grand tour and that restless spirit for making it, which David prophetically foresaw would haunt the children of men in the latter days, and therefore, as thinketh the great Bishop Hall, tis one of the severest implications which David ever uttered against the enemies of the Lord. And, as if he had said, I wish them no worse luck than always to be rolling about. So much motion continues he, for he was very corpulent, is so much unquietness, and so much of rest by the same analogy is so much of heaven. Now, I, being very thin, think differently, and that so much of motion is so much of life and so much of joy, and that to stand still or get on but slowly is death and the devil. Holo, ho, the whole world asleep. Bring out the horses, grease the wheels, tie on the mail, and drive a nail into that moulding. I'll not lose a moment. Now, the wheel we are talking of, and we're in too, but not where unto, for that would make an exion's wheel of it, he curses his enemies according to the Bishop's habit of body, should certainly be a post-chase wheel, whether they were set up in Palestine at that time or not. And my wheel, for the contrary reasons, must as certainly be a cart-wheel, groaning round its revolution once in an age, and of which sort were I to turn commentator, I should make no scruple to affirm, they had great store in that hilly country. I love the Pythagoreans much more than I ever dare tell, my dear Jenny, for they're Greek, they're getting out of the body in order to think well. No man thinks right whilst he is in it. Blinded as he must be with his congenial humours, and drawn differently aside, as the Bishop and myself have been, with two lacks or two-tenths of fibre, reason is, half of it, sense, and the measure of heaven itself is but the measure of our present appetites and concoctions. But which of the two in the present case do you think to be mostly in the wrong? You certainly, quote she, to disturb a whole family so early. CHAPTER 97 But she did not know I was under a vow not to shave my beard till I got to Paris. Yet I hate to make mysteries of nothing. Tis the cold cautiousness of one of those little souls from which Lesias, Lib 13, de Moribus de Venus, cap 24, hath made his estimate wherein he saideth forth that one Dutch mile, cubically multiplied, will allow room enough and to spare for 800,000 millions, which he supposes to be as great a number of souls counting from the fall of Adam as can possibly be damned to the end of the world. From what he has made this second estimate, unless from the parental goodness of God, I don't know. I am much more at a loss what could be in Franciscus Rabir's head who pretends that no less a space than one of 200 Italian miles multiplied into itself will be sufficient to hold the like number. He certainly must have gone upon some of the old Roman souls of which he had read without reflecting how much by a gradual and most tabid decline in the course of 1800 years, they must unavoidably have shrunk so as to have come when he wrote almost to nothing. In Lesias's time, who seems the cooler man, they were as little as can be imagined. We find them less now. And next winter, we shall find them less again. So that if we go on from little to less and from less to nothing, I hesitate not one moment to affirm that in half a century at this rate we shall have no souls at all. Which being the period beyond which I doubt likewise of the existence of the Christian faith will be one advantage that both of them will be exactly worn out together. Blessed Jupiter and blessed every other heathen God and Goddess, for now ye will all come into play again and with Priapus at your tails. What jovial times! But where am I? And into what a delicious riot of things am I rushing? I, I who must be cut short in the midst of my days and taste no more of them than what I borrow from my imagination. Peace to thee generous fool and let me go on. Chapter 98 So hating, I say, to make mysteries of nothing I entrusted it with the post-boy as soon as ever I got off the stones. He gave a crack with his whip to balance the compliment and with the thick horse trotting and a sort of an up and a down of the other we danced it along to Allu-Clochets, famed in days of yore for the finest chimes in the world. But we danced through it without music, the chimes being greatly out of order if they were through all France. And so making all possible speed from Allu-Clochets I got to Hickscourt, from Hickscourt I got to Peguinet, and from Peguinet I got to MENs concerning which town I have nothing to inform you, but what I have informed you once before and that was that genitone went there to school. Chapter 99 In the whole catalogue of those whiffling fixations which come puffing across a man's canvas, there is not one of a more teasing or tormenting nature than this particular one which I am going to describe, and for which, unless you travel with an advanced courier which numbers do in order to prevent it, there is no help, and it is this, that be you in never so kindly a propensity to sleep though you are passing perhaps through the finest country, upon the best roads, and in the easiest carriage for doing it in the world, nay, was you sure you could sleep 50 miles straight forwards without once opening your eyes, nay, what is more was you as demonstratively satisfied as you can be of any truth in Euclid, that you should upon all accounts be full as well asleep as awake, nay, perhaps better, yet the incessant returns of paying for the horses at every stage with the necessity thereupon of putting your hand into your pocket and counting out from thence three leves, 15 sou, sou by sou, puts an end to so much of the project that you cannot execute above six miles of it, or supposing it is a post and a half that is but nine, were it to save your soul from destruction. I'll be even with them, quote I, for I'll put the precise sum into a piece of paper and hold it ready in my hand all the way. Now I shall have nothing to do, said I, composing myself to rest but to drop this gently into the post boy's hat and not say a word, then there wants to sue more to drink, or there is a 12 sou piece of Louis 14, which will not pass, or a laver and some odd liars to be brought over from the last stage, which Mashaire had forgot which altercations, as a man cannot dispute very well asleep, rouse him. Still is sweet sleep retrievable, and still might the flesh weigh down the spirit and recover itself of these blows. But then, by heaven, you have paid but for a single post, whereas tis a post and a half, and this obliges you to pull out your book of post roads, and print of which is so very small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you will or know. Then Mashaire LeCœur offers you a pinch of snuff, or a poor soldier shows you his leg, or a shoveling his box, or the priestess of the sister will water your wheels. They do not want it, but she swears by her priesthood, throwing it back, that they do. Then you have all these points to are you, or consider over in your mind, in doing which the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened, you may get him to sleep again as you can. It was entirely owing to one of these misfortuns, or I had passed clean by the stables of Chintilly. But the post dillian first affirming and then persisting in it to my face that there was no mark upon the two su piece. I opened my eyes to be convinced, and seeing the mark upon it as plain as my nose, I leaped out of the chaise in a passion, and so saw everything at Chintilly in spite. I tried it but for three posts and a half, but believed is the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon, for as few objects look very inviting in that mood, you have little or nothing to stop you, by which means it was that I passed through St. Dennis without turning my head so much as on one side towards the abbey. Richness of the treasury, stuff and nonsense, baiting their jewels which are all false, I would not give three sue for any one thing in it, but jades is lantern, nor for that either, only as it grows dark it might be of use. End of chapters 95-99 Chapters 100-102 of Tristram Shandy Volume 3 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 Barry Eads. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy Gentlemen, Volume 3 by Lawrence Stern Chapter 100 Crack Crack Crack Crack So this is Paris Quote I continuing in the same mood and this is Paris Humph Paris cried I repeating the name the third time the first, the finest, the most brilliant the streets however are nasty but it looks I suppose better than it smells Crack Crack Crack Crack What a fuss thou makest If it concerned the good people to be informed that a man with pale face and clad in black had the honor to be driven into Paris at nine o'clock at night by a postillian in a tawny yellow jerkin turned up with red calamanko Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack I wish thy whip but tis the spirit of thy nation so Crack Crack on Ha and no one gives the wall but in the school of urbanity herself if the walls are best how can you do otherwise and prithy when do they light the lamps what never in the summer months ho tis the time of salads oh rare salad and soup soup and salad salad and soup on core tis too much for sinners now I cannot bear the barbarity of it how can that unconscionable coachman talk so much body to that lean horse don't you see friend the streets are so villainously narrow that there is not room in all Paris to turn a wheelbarrow in the grandest city of the whole world it would not have been amiss if they had been left a thought wider nay were it only so much in every single street as that a man might know was it only for satisfaction on which side of it he was walking one two three four five six seven eight nine ten ten cooks shops and twice the number of barbers and all within three minutes driving one would think that all the cooks in the world on some great merry meeting with the barbers by joint consent had said come let us all go live at Paris we shall rank high if their god is their belly their cooks must be gentlemen and for as much as the periwig maketh the man and the periwig maker maketh the periwig ergo with the barbers say we shall rank higher still we shall be above you all we shall be capitals chief magistrate in Toulouse et cetera et cetera et cetera at least party we shall all wear swords and so one would swear that is by candlelight but there is no depending on it they continue to do to this day chapter 101 the French are certainly misunderstood but whether the fault is theirs and not sufficiently explaining themselves or speaking with that exact limitation and precision which one would expect on a point of such importance and which moreover is so likely to be contested by us or whether the fault may not be altogether on our side in not understanding their language always so critically as to know what they would be at I shall not decide but it is evident to me when they affirm that they who have seen Paris have seen everything they must mean to speak of those who have seen it by daylight as for candlelight I give it up I have said before there was no depending upon it and I repeat it again but not because the lights and shades are so sharp or the tents confounded or that there is neither beauty or keeping et cetera for that's not true but it is uncertain light in this respect that in all the 500 grand hotels which they number up to you in Paris and the 500 good things at a modest computation purchase only allowing one good thing to a hotel which by candlelight are best to be seen felt heard and understood which by the by is a quotation from Lily that devil a one of us out of 50 can get our heads fairly thrust in amongst them this is no part of the French computation to simply this that by the last survey taken in the year 1716 since which time there have been considerable augmentations Paris death contain 900 streets viz in the quarter called the city there are 53 streets in St. James of the shambles 55 streets in St. Opportun 34 streets in the quarter of the Louvre 25 streets in the Palace Royale or St. Honoris 49 streets in Montmartre 41 streets in St. Oostos 29 streets in the Hallis 27 streets in St. Dennis 55 streets in St. Martin 54 streets in St. Paul or the Motelry 27 streets the Gryff 38 streets in St. Avoy or the Verry 19 streets in the Marais or the Temple 52 streets in St. Antony's 68 streets in the Place Mopbert 81 streets in St. Benet 60 streets in St. Andrews de Arcs 51 streets in the quarter of the Luxembourg 62 streets and in that of St. Germain 55 streets into any of which you may walk and that when you have seen them with all that belongs to them fairly by daylight their gates, their bridges, their squares their statues and have crusaded it more over through all their parish churches by no means omitting St. Roche or Sufis and to crown all have taken a walk to the four palaces which you may see either with or without the statues and pictures just as you choose. Then you will have seen but is what no one needed to tell you for you will read of it yourself upon the portico of the Louvre in these words earth no such folks no folks air such a town as Paris is sing dairy dairy down non-orbus gentum non-urban gent's habit alum oolaparm the French have a gay way of treating everything that is great and that is all can be said upon it Chapter 102 In mentioning the word gay as in the clothes of the last chapter it puts one, i.e. an author in mind of the word spleen especially if he has anything to say upon it not that by any analysis or that from any table of interest or genealogy there appears much more ground of alliance betwixt them than betwixt light and darkness or any two of the most unfriendly opposites in nature only tis an undercraft of authors to keep up a good understanding amongst words as politicians do amongst men not knowing how near they may be under a necessity of placing them to each other which point being now gained that I may place mine exactly to my mind I write it down here spleen this upon leaving Chantilly I declared to be the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon but I give it only as matter of opinion I still continue in the same sentiments only I had not then experienced enough of its workings to add this that though you do get on at a tearing rate yet you get on but uneasily to yourself at the same time for which reason I here quit it entirely and for ever and tis hardly at any one's service it has spoiled me the digestion of a good supper and brought on a bilious diarrhea which has brought me back again to my first principle on which I set out and with which I shall now scamper it away to the banks of the Garonne no, I cannot stop a moment to give you the character of the people their genius, their manners, their customs their laws, their religion their government, their manufacturers their commerce, their finances with all the resources and hidden springs which sustain them qualified as I may be spending three days and two nights amongst them and during all that time making these things the entire subject of my inquiries and reflections still, still I must away the roads are paved the posts are short the days are long I shall be at Fontainebleau before the King Was he going there? Not that I know End of chapters 100 to 102 End of the life and opinions of Tristram Shandy Gentleman, volume 3 by Lawrence Stern