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 naturâ, but what was extremely mean and pitiful: So that in the midst of a dispute on the subject, in which, by the bye, he was frequently involved, — he would sometimes break off in a sudden and spirited EPIPHONEMA, or rather EROTESIS, raised a third, and sometimes a full fifth above the key of the discourse, — and demand it 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 recording? — No, — he would say, — TRISTRAM! — The 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 boots it to the subtle speculatist to stand single in his opinions, — unless he gives them proper vent: — It was the identical thing which my father did: — for in the year sixteen, which was two years before I was born, he was at the pains of writing an express DISSERTATION simply upon the word Tristram, — shewing 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 the gentle reader pity my father from his soul? — to see an orderly and well-disposed gentleman, who tho’ 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 purposedly been plann’d 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 suffering sorrow; — ten times in a day calling the child of his prayers TRISTRAM! — Melancholy dissyllable of sound! which, to his ears, was unison to Nincompoop, and every name vituperative 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 would this moment give the reader an account of it.
CHAPTER XX
— How could you, Madam, be so inattentive in reading the last chapter? I told you in it, That my mother was not a papist. — Papist! You told me no such thing, Sir. — Madam, I beg leave to repeat it over again, that I told you as plain, at least, as words, by direct inference, could tell you such a thing. — Then, Sir, I must have miss’d a page. — No, Madam, — you have not miss’d a word. — Then I was asleep, Sir. — My pride, Madam, cannot allow you that refuge. — Then, I declare, I know nothing at all about the matter. — That, Madam, is the very fault I lay to your charge; and as a punishment for it, I do insist upon it, that you immediately turn back, that is, as soon as you get to the next full stop, and read the whole chapter over again. I have imposed this penance upon the lady, neither out of wantonness nor cruelty; but from the best of motives; and therefore shall make her no apology for it when she returns back:— ’Tis to rebuke a vicious taste, which has crept into thousands besides herself, — of reading straight forwards, more in quest of the adventures, than of the deep erudition and knowledge which a book of this cast, if read over as it should be, would infallibly impart with them — The mind should be accustomed to make wise reflections, and draw curious conclusions as it goes along; the habitude of which made Pliny the younger affirm, “That he never read a book so bad, but he drew some profit from it.” The stories of Greece and Rome, run over without this turn and application, — do less service, I affirm it, than the history of Parismus and Parismenus, or of the Seven Champions of England, read with it.
— But here comes my fair lady. Have you read over again the chapter, Madam, as I desired you? — You have: And did you not observe the passage, upon the second reading, which admits the inference? — Not a word like it! Then, Madam, be pleased to ponder well the last line but one of the chapter, where I take upon me to say, “It was necessary I should be born before I was christen’d.” Had my mother, Madam, been a Papist, that consequence did not follow.
It is a terrible misfortune for this same book of mine, but more so to the Republick of letters; — so that my own is quite swallowed up in the consideration of it, — that this selfsame vile pruriency for fresh adventures in all things, has got so strongly into our habit and humour, — and so wholly intent are we upon satisfying the impatience of our concupiscence that way, — that nothing but the gross and more carnal parts of a composition will go down: — The subtle hints and sly communications of science fly off, like spirits upwards, — the heavy moral escapes downwards; and both the one and the other are as much lost to the world, as if they were still left in the bottom of the ink-horn.
I wish the male-reader has not pass’d by many a one, as quaint and curious as this one, in which the female-reader has been detected. I wish it may have its effects; — and that all good people, both male and female, from her example, may be taught to think as well as read.
MEMOIRE presenté à Messieurs les Docteurs de SORBONNE
Un Chirurgien Accoucheur, represente à Messieurs les Docteurs de SORBONNE, qu’il y a des cas, quoique très rares, où une mere ne sçauroit accoucher, & même où l’enfant est tellement renfermé dans le sein de sa mere, qu’il ne fait parôitre aucune partie de son corps, ce qui seroit un cas, suivant les Rituels, de lui conférer, du moins sous condition, le baptême. Le Chirurgien, qui consulte, prétend, par le moyen d’une petite canulle, de pouvoir baptiser immediatement l’enfant, sans faire aucun tort à la mere. — Il demand si ce moyen, qu’il vient de proposer, est permis & légitime, & s’il peut s’en servir dans les cas qu’il vient d’exposer.
[Footnote 1.1: The Romish Rituals direct the baptizing of the child, in cases of danger, before it is born; — but upon this proviso, That some part or other of the child’s body be seen by the baptizer: — But the Doctors of the Sorbonne, by a deliberation held amongst them, April 10, 1733, — have enlarged the powers of the midwives, by determining, That though no part of the child’s body should appear, — that baptism shall, nevertheless, be administered to it by injection, — par le moyen d’une petite canulle, — Anglicè a squirt.— ’Tis very strange that St. Thomas Aquinas, who had so good a mechanical head, both for tying and untying the knots of school-divinity, — should, after so much pains bestowed upon this, — give up the point at last, as a second La chose impossible,— “Infantes in maternis uteris existentes (quoth St. Thomas!) baptizari possunt nullo modo.” — O Thomas! Thomas!
If the reader has the curiosity to see the question upon baptism by injection, as presented to the Doctors of the Sorbonne, with their consultation thereupon, it is as follows.]
[Footnote 1.2: Vide Deventer, Paris edit., 4to, 1734, p. 366.]
REPONSE
Le Conseil estime, que la question proposée souffre de grandes difficultés. Les Théologiens posent d’un côté pour principe, que le baptême, qui est une naissance spirituelle, suppose une premiere naissance; il faut être né dans le monde, pour renaître en Jesus Christ, comme ils l’enseignent. S. Thomas, 3 part, quæst. 88, artic. II, suit cette doctrine comme une verité constante; l’on ne peut, dit ce S. Docteur, baptiser les enfans qui sont renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres, & S. Thomas est fondé sur ce, que les enfans ne sont point nés, & ne peuvent être comptés parmi les autres hommes; d’où il conclud, qu’ils ne peuvent être l’objet d’une action extérieure, pour reçevoir par leur ministére, les sacremens nécessaires au salut: Pueri in maternis uteris existentes nondum prodierunt in lucem ut cum aliis hominibus vitam ducant; unde non possunt subjici actioni humanæ, ut per eorum ministerium sacramenta recipiant ad salutem. Les rituels ordonnent dans la pratique ce que les théologiens ont établi sur les mêmes matiéres, & ils
deffendent tous d’une maniére uniforme, de baptiser les enfans qui sont renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres, s’ils ne font paroître quelque partie de leurs corps. Le concours des théologiens, & des rituels, qui sont les régles des diocéses, paroit former une autorité qui termine la question presente; cependant le conseil de conscience considerant d’un côté, que le raisonnement des théologiens est uniquement fondé sur une raison de convenance, & que la deffense des rituels suppose que l’on ne peut baptiser immediatement les enfans ainsi renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres, ce qui est contre la supposition presente; & d’un autre côté, considerant que les mêmes théologiens enseignent, que l’on peut risquer les sacremens que Jesus Christ a établis comme des moyens faciles, mais nécessaires pour sanctifier les hommes; & d’ailleurs estimant, que les enfans renfermés dans le sein de leurs meres, pourroient être capables de salut, parcequ’ils sont capables de damnation; — pour ces considerations, & en egard à l’exposé, suivant lequel on assure avoir trouvé un moyen certain de baptiser ces enfans ainsi renfermés, sans faire aucun tort à la mere, le Conseil estime que l’on pourroit se servir du moyen proposé, dans la confiance qu’il a, que Dieu n’a point laissé ces sortes d’enfans sans aucuns secours, & supposant, comme il est exposé, que le moyen dont il s’agit est propre à leur procurer le baptême; cependant comme il s’agiroit, en autorisant la pratique proposée, de changer une regie universellement établie, le Conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit s’addresser à son evêque, & à qui il appartient de juger de l’utilité, & du danger du moyen proposé, & comme, sous le bon plaisir de l’evêque, le Conseil estime qu’il faudroit recourir au Pape, qui a le droit d’expliquer les régles de l’eglise, & d’y déroger dans le cas, ou la loi ne sçauroit obliger, quelque sage & quelque utile que paroisse la maniére de baptiser dont il s’agit, le Conseil ne pourroit l’approuver sans le concours de ces deux autorités. On conseile au moins à celui qui consulte, de s’addresser à son evêque, & de lui faire part de la presente décision, afin que, si le prelat entre dans les raisons sur lesquelles les docteurs soussignés s’appuyent, il puisse être autorisé dans le cas de nécessité, ou il risqueroit trop d’attendre que la permission fût demandée & accordée d’employer le moyen qu’il propose si avantageux au salut de l’enfant. Au reste, le Conseil, en estimant que l’on pourroit s’en servir, croit cependant, que si les enfans dont il s’agit, venoient au monde, contre l’esperance de ceux qui se seroient servis du même moyen, il seroit nécessaire de les baptiser sous condition; & en cela le Conseil se conforme à tous les rituels, qui en autorisant le baptême d’un enfant qui fait paroître quelque partie de son corps, enjoignent néantmoins, & ordonnent de le baptiser sous condition, s’il vient heureusement au monde.
Deliberé en Sorbonne, le 10 Avril, 1733.
A. LE MOYNE. L. DE ROMIGNY. DE MARCILLY.
Mr. Tristram Shandy’s compliments to Messrs. Le Moyne, De Romigny, and De Marcilly; hopes they all rested well the night after so tiresome a consultation. — He begs to know, whether after the ceremony of marriage, and before that of consummation, the baptizing all the HOMUNCULI at once, slapdash, by injection, would not be a shorter and safer cut still; on condition, as above, That if the HOMUNCULI do well, and come safe into the world after this, that each and every of them shall be baptized again (sous condition) — And provided, in the second place, That the thing can be done, which Mr. Shandy apprehends it may, par le moyen d’une petite canulle, and sans faire aucun tort au pere.
CHAPTER XXI
— I wonder what’s all that noise, and running backwards and forwards for, above stairs, quoth my father, addressing himself, after an hour and a half’s silence, to my uncle Toby, — who, you must know, was sitting on the opposite side of the fire, smoking his social pipe all the time, in mute contemplation of a new pair of black plush-breeches which he had got on: — What can they be doing, brother? — quoth my father, — we can scarce hear ourselves talk.
I think, replied my uncle Toby, taking his pipe from his mouth, and striking the head of it two or three times upon the nail of his left thumb, as he began his sentence, — I think, says he: — But to enter rightly into my uncle Toby’s sentiments upon this matter, you must be made to enter first a little into his character, the outlines of which I shall just give you, and then the dialogue between him and my father will go on as well again.
Pray what was that man’s name, — for I write in such a hurry, I have no time to recollect or look for it, — who first made the observation, “That there was great inconstancy in our air and climate?” Whoever he was, ’twas a just and good observation in him. — But the corollary drawn from it, namely, “That it is this which has furnished us with such a variety of odd and whimsical characters;” — that was not his; — it was found out by another man, at least a century and a half after him: Then again, — that this copious store-house of original materials, is the true and natural cause that our Comedies are so much better than those of France, or any others that either have, or can be wrote upon the Continent: — that discovery was not fully made till about the middle of King William’s reign, — when the great Dryden, in writing one of his long prefaces, (if I mistake not) most fortunately hit upon it. Indeed toward the latter end of Queen Anne, the great Addison began to patronize the notion, and more fully explained it to the world in one or two of his Spectators; — but the discovery was not his. — Then, fourthly and lastly, that this strange irregularity in our climate, producing so strange an irregularity in our characters, — doth thereby, in some sort, make us amends, by giving us somewhat to make us merry with when the weather will not suffer us to go out of doors, — that observation is my own; — and was struck out by me this very rainy day, March 26, 1759, and betwixt the hours of nine and ten in the morning.
Thus — thus, my fellow-labourers and associates in this great harvest of our learning, now ripening before our eyes; thus it is, by slow steps of casual increase, that our knowledge physical, metaphysical, physiological, polemical, nautical, mathematical, ænigmatical, technical, biographical, romantical, chemical, and obstetrical, with fifty other branches of it, (most of ‘em ending as these do, in ical) have for these two last centuries and more, gradually been creeping upwards towards that Ἀκμὴ of their perfections, from which, if we may form a conjecture from the advances of these last seven years, we cannot possibly be far off.
When that happens, it is to be hoped, it will put an end to all kind of writings whatsoever; — the want of all kind of writing will put an end to all kind of reading; — and that in time, As war begets poverty; poverty peace, — must, in course, put an end to all kind of knowledge, — and then — we shall have all to begin over again; or, in other words, be exactly where we started.
— Happy! thrice happy times! I only wish that the æra of my begetting, as well as the mode and manner of it, had been a little alter’d, — or that it could have been put off, with any convenience to my father or mother, for some twenty or five-and-twenty years longer, when a man in the literary world might have stood some chance. —
But I forget my uncle Toby, whom all this while we have left knocking the ashes out of his tobacco-pipe.
His humour was of that particular species, which does honour to our atmosphere; and I should have made no scruple of ranking him amongst one of the first-rate productions of it, had not there appeared too many strong lines in it of a family-likeness, which shewed that he derived the singularity of his temper more from blood, than either wind or water, or any modifications or combinations of them whatever: And I have, therefore, oft-times wondered, that my father, tho’ I believe he had his reasons for it, upon his observing some tokens of eccentricity, in my course, when I was a boy, — should never once endeavour to account for them in this way: for all the SHANDY FAMILY were of an original character throughout: — I mean the males, — the females had no character at all, — except, indeed, my great aunt DINAH, who, about sixty years ago, was married and got with child by the coachman, for which my fa
ther, according to his hypothesis of christian names, would often say, She might thank her godfathers and godmothers.
It will seem very strange, — and I would as soon think of dropping a riddle in the reader’s way, which is not my interest to do, as set him upon guessing how it could come to pass, that an event of this kind, so many years after it had happened, should be reserved for the interruption of the peace and unity, which otherwise so cordially subsisted, between my father and my uncle Toby. One would have thought, that the whole force of the misfortune should have spent and wasted itself in the family at first, — as is generally the case. — But nothing ever wrought with our family after the ordinary way. Possibly at the very time this happened, it might have something else to afflict it; and as afflictions are sent down for our good, and that as this had never done the SHANDY FAMILY any good at all, it might lie waiting till apt times and circumstances should give it an opportunity to discharge its office. — Observe, I determine nothing upon this. — My way is ever to point out to the curious, different tracts of investigation, to come at the first springs of the events I tell; — not with a pedantic Fescue, — or in the decisive manner of Tacitus, who outwits himself and his reader; — but with the officious humility of a heart devoted to the assistance merely of the inquisitive; — to them I write, — and by them I shall be read, — if any such reading as this could be supposed to hold out so long, — to the very end of the world.
Complete Works of Laurence Sterne Page 12