Complete Works of Laurence Sterne

by Laurence Sterne

  Deliberated in the Sorbonne, the 10th of April, 1733.

  A. LE MOYNE, L. DE ROMIGNY, DE MARCILLY.

  CHAP. IX.

  I Suppose, by this time every one of my readers (French readers, or English readers) understands clearly and perspicuously, the representation or memorial of the French man-midwife, and the answer of the doctors of the Sorbonne thereto; and in this opinion too (before any English translation is given) Mr. Tristram Shandy gives his compliments to those doctors, in the following words,

  “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, slap-dash, 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 (on condition) —— and provided, in the second place, that the thing can be done, which Mr. Shandy apprehends it may, by means of a syringe, and without any prejudice to the father.”

  This, and the foregoing passages, are what I propose labouring hard to rescue from the claws of moral (though pseudo) critics, who would insinuate, that they are not only directly inconsistent with all morality, but evidently antichristian. As to you, my worthy (though incomprehensible) readers, I dare say, no such thoughts ever entered your brain, nor indeed how should they, for what immorality can there be in giving the substance of a theological dispute, especially when every thing that can possibly give offence is expressed in a foreign tongue?

  The latter part of this conclusion, or query, or whatever you please to call it, I do not so much insist upon, as in that case I should share the guilt, if there were any, with my friend Tristram Shandy, for having exposed him in English. Therefore, having said all I can say, in defence of his morals and orthodoxy, in this respect, I beg you will conclude with me, that in this part he no way deviates from his general moral character.

  This, I think, is reasoning (ay, and sound reasoning too) enough for one chapter — and so we proceed to the next.

  CHAP. X.

  THIS chapter, though entirely upon modesty, cannot properly be called a modest chapter, notwithstanding there is very little of the author’s vanity in it: therefore any of my seven hundred and fifty readers (being females) may pass it over, if they chuse it, and my lazy readers in particular, (of either gender, the epicene not excluded) are carefully recommended to avoid it, as perhaps after all they will have occasion to recur to a dictionary, or be obliged to say their A, B, C, numerically before they understand it.

  ——

  “Then it can be out of nothing in the world, quoth my uncle Toby, in the simplicity of his heart — but MODESTY. — My sister, I dare say, added he, does not care to let a man come so near her ****.”

  One would be inclined to imagine, that a man of my friend Tristram’s strict morals had concluded the sentence before the asterisms, and that they were a meer error of the press, though they had run through two editions, if he had not immediately after added:

  —

  “My sister, may hap,” quoth my uncle Toby, “does not chuse to let a man come so near her ****, make this dash,— ’tis an aposiopesis — Take the dash away, and write backside— ’tis bawdy. — Scratch backside out, and put cover’d way in,— ’tis a metaphor; — and I dare say, as fortification ran so much in my uncle Toby’s head, that if he had been left to have added one word to the sentence, — that word was it.”

  Notwithstanding my strict reliance upon Tristram’s veracity, and my great opinion of his uncle Toby’s purity of expression, I cannot be induced to believe that his uncle Toby either said backside, bawdy or not bawdy, or was metaphorically inclined to express himself in a covered way. — Naked truth, I believe, he thought the best — four asterisms are but four asterisms — and ever since asterisms have been in use, we have always been taught that their number should be supplied by a like number of letters to make out the sense.

  Curious, indefatigable, unblushing readers, consider what letters will properly supply the place, without infringing upon the sense. — Mind I have already exploded uncle Toby’s “backside” and “covered way.” — What do you think of head? there are but four letters in this word — Ay, but it will not do, it is quite opposite to the author’s meaning. — Arm and leg have but three letters, and be hanged to them. — Thigh comes near it, but then there is a letter too many. — I have it — the third, the twentieth, the thirteenth, and the nineteenth letters of the English alphabet certainly compose the word, though it is not to be found in any Lexicon extant — I hope.

  CHAP. XI.

  THIS chapter I intend to devote entirely to hobby horses.

  A hobby-horse is a machine which boys (ay, and girls too) frequently sit astride upon, and which going up and down affords them much amusement.

  Mr. Tristram Shandy’s hobby-horse I take to be ****, (four asterisms) as explained Chap. X. and his favourite argument the argumentum ad rem, as he applies it in page 139, volume the 1st of his work.

  My hobby-horse is a goose quill, upon which I have rode through life to this period, and by which I hope to get hobby-horsically to my journey’s end without much fatigue.

  N. B. My hobby-horse never goes on so briskly as upon a journey of prescriptions and receipts — for, instead of paying upon the first road, I receive toll; and the last excursion I seldom make but for the sale of some young hobby, the offspring of my goose quill, which never stumbles without I meet with a lady, when I get out of the way of the two first syllables of my name, and canter on simple Strokius — though to be sure there is no more resemblance between a K and a C, than there is between my hobby-horse and a lady’s pad.

  CHAP XII.

  THE foregoing chapters will give my readers a very competent idea of Mr. Tristram Shandy’s morality and religion; for though there may be some few slips of the pen, particularly where the four asterisms are left to supply the place of a word, the drift of this work evidently appears to be moral and orthodox, particularly the last, which is manifestly evinced by his scheme of baptizing, slap dash (to use his own words) all mankind, even before they are born, and thereby prevent any heretical, or schismatical opinions (except in matters of faith) whatever.

  CHAP. XIII.

  I AM now going to consider my friend Tristram Shandy as a politician — or rather, as he is considered by the greatest politicians of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America.

  This, it must be owned, is an arduous task; — but my title page is already printed, and I cannot deviate from it; but before I begin, I make this solemn protestation, that if any of the writers of our weekly political papers, either composed of a sheet and a half, to avoid the payment of duty, — or in the form of a journal, whereby a whole week’s news is, besides a political essay, sucked in at the easy charge of two-pence half-penny, — or in the shape of a chronicle, where piracies do manifestly abound: — I say, if any printers, publishers, editors, compilers, writers, authors, — whether garetteers, first floorers, house keepers, chariot-keepers, shop-keepers, stall-keepers, or cellar-keepers — hawkers, and chapmen, do, in manifest opposition to this my will, dare to borrow, rob, steal, quote, cite, mention, hint — (except in my own genteel advertisement) from, of, or that —— there is such a book in esse as this present volume — I hereby declare solemnly — I believe I shall prosecute them; — and that I certainly will never give them, or either of them, respectively, a good introductory letter, or essay, or so much as a paragraph, or hint, concerning such things as no one else can be acquainted with but myself, — those are my ideas: nay, I furthermore declare, — I will never read, peruse, run-over, or look upon, in any light whatever, their papers, &c. &c. &c. respectively; — but give my opinion — which goes a great way (with myself) right or wrong, — and damn them all.

  N. B. Every part of this, and these foregoing
chapters, extends to all the magazines (which I did intend to allot a chapter to enumerate) as well as the reviews, — without they make very favourable mention of me, and this my elaborate work.

  CHAP. XIV.

  A Politician is truly an amphibious animal, — and in England he is more inclined to the herring than the monkey; — it is quite otherwise in France, where it is more requisite for a professed politicans to have learnt to dance, than to have read Machiavel, for his arguments are better enforced by a caper, — a pas grave, or a baloné, than by the most Syllogistic logic of all the schools, Un politique de Paris, (that is, a Paris politician) enters a coffee room with a pas de passe pié, makes three entrechae at the front looking-glass, goes up to the group, tells them, with a significant air,

  “nous F —— ns bien le tour aux Anglois cette campaigne — ces fiers insulaires sauront, bien tôt faire respect au genie militaire de la France,”

  — he cuts two capers and retires, whilst the multitude are admiring his profound knowledge of the interest of princes, and every one agrees, that

  “Monsieur a bien raison,” “the orator was quite in the right.”

  CHAP. XV.

  IN England, every coffee-house has its president, who harrangues the circle that catch his opinions, and support them in their different districts. ——

  “Why, Sir, I repeat it, what have we to do with continental connections? — Are not our ships, our floating bulwarks, our only protection? — Could the king of — , in return for all the assistance we have given him, have made such a diversion as the brave captain Elliot did, in St. George’s channel?”

  I say, Sir, would all the german princes put together, have defeated Thurot?

  “Is not our trade, and our navigation, the subject of this war, — and what is our navigation to the inland parts of Germany? — trifling, — I repeat it very trifling. And yet neglect the herring fishery, — that Peruvian sea-mine! and scarce pay any attention to those elaborate and well digested schemes of the great Henriques!”

  —— The learned, deep sighted, clear witted, eloquent president of —— — coffee-house, after having made this popular and sagacious harrangue — laid hold of my worthy friend Mr. Tristram Shandy, —

  “Here, (says he) here is the man after my own heart, — whose political notions are as clear and self-evident as my own. — There is the touchstone of public measures, — the whetstone of trade and navigation, and the grind-stone of malversation.”

  CHAP. XVI.

  SOME of my incomprehensible readers may be greatly surprized, at finding themselves got into such unexpected good company and being conveyed, even without a passport (whilst we are in the midst of a war with France) from London to Paris, there dip into a political conversation with one of their greatest politicians; got back safe to England, without being put into the Bastile, for dissenting with him in his political opinions, and holding French faith, French generals, French admirals, as well as French minisers, in the highest contempt; then tran+sported into one of our most oratorial coffee-houses, and become auditors to a second Cicero, and a third Demosthenes.

  All this shall be explained to you in a few words. — It was necessary — how else could I have illustrated my assertion, that a politician is an amphibious animal? — How else could I have demonstrated, that he has more of the monkey in him in France, and more of the herring in him in England? As to the Parisian, we dropt him a chapter or two ago, but we have not yet done with Cicero or Demosthenes (which ever you please to call him.) You shall have some more conversation with him presently; and take my word for it, he is, abstracted from oratory, a very shrewd, sensible fellow, and according to the common saying,

  “sees as far into a mill-stone as another man.”

  CHAP. XVII.

  IT may be necessary to inform some of my readers, that we are not yet got out of —— — coffee-house, in —— — street: — No — here we are yet, as attentive as ever to Mr. Profound, (that is the gentleman’s name in the black full bottom wig, and the green spectacles) who has by this time thrown down a dish of coffee in enforcing his argument upon the touch-stones, whet-stones, and grind-stones; taken two pinches of snuff, and opened Tristram Shandy exactly at page 135.

  “Was I an absolute prince, he would say, pulling up his breeches with both his hands, as he rose from his arm chair, I would appoint able judges at every avenue of my metropolis, who should take cognizance of every fools 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 up, bag and baggage, with his wife and children, farmers sons, &c. &c. at his back, they should all be sent back, from constable to 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 the head be no longer too big for the body; that the extremes now wasted, and pin’d in, be restored to their due share of nourishment, and regain with it their natural strength and beauty: — I would effectually provide that the meadows and corn fields of my dominions skould laugh and sing.”

  Oh excellent metaphor, cried Mr. Profound, (in extasy) worthy of the great pen from whence it flows! ——

  “That good chear and hospitality flourish once more; — and that such weight and influence be put thereby into the hands of the squirality of my kingdom, as should counterpoise what I perceive my nobility are now taking from them.”

  Great — Great Tristram! — and see how elegantly he illustrates this immediately after.

  “Why are there so few palaces and gentlemens seats, he would ask, with some emotion, as he walked across the room, throughout so many delicious provinces in France? whence is it that the few remaining chateaus amongst them are so dismantled, so unfurnished, and in so ruinous and desolate a condition? — Because, Sir, he would say, in that kingdom no man has any country interest to support; — the little interest of any kind, which any man has any where in it, is concentrated in the court, and the looks of the grand monarch, by the sunshine of whose countenance, or the clouds, which pass acro•s it, every French man lives or dies.”

  Here Mr. Profound made a pause, after which — he addressed himself to us — Well, gentlemen, what do you think of this great political writer — you may talk of your Machiavel’s, and your Sommers’s, and your Burnet’s — But what are they when compared to him: how clearly he states the case when he has a mind for it, and then again when he chuses to screen himself in a kind of parable, how elegantly he does it.

  “Another political reason (says Tristram) 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 or higher stations; — which, with the many usurped rights which that part of the constitution was hourly establishing, — would, in the end, prove fatal to the monarchical system of domestic government established in the first creation of things by God.”

  What can he mean here, (resumed Mr. Profound) but pecuniary influence in elections, particularly in boroughs? and yet there is not one in a hundred takes it in that sense. I tell you, gentlemen, Tristram Shandy is one compleat system of modern politics, and that to understand him, there is as much occasion for a key, as there is for a catalogue to the Harleian library: I own, that I should not myself have penetrated so far as I have, notwithstanding my great reading in works of this nature, if I had not had the opportunity of supping the other evening with the author, who let me into the whole affair. I advised him to publish a key, but he told me it was too dangerous. —— What is the Siege of Namur, which he often mentions, but the Siege of Fort St. Philip’s in Minorca? — or, the wound his uncle Toby received there but the distress the nation was thrown into thereupon? His application to the study of fortification, and the knowledge he therein gained, means nothing else but the rectitude and clear sightedness of the administration which afterwa
rds took up the reins of government. This is a master piece of allegory, beyond all the poets of this or any period whatever. There is but one fault to be found with Mr. Tristram Shandy as a politician — that is making Yorick’s horse so lean — but then he is armed at all points — I think too he should have told us the horse was white, to have made the symbolical application: — but he did not dare declare himself so openly upon this head — he told me so. Gentlemen, (continued he) I will only read to you one passage more, and leave you to make your remarks —