me to my grave; namely, that from an unhappy association of ideas, which have no connection in nature, it so fell out at length, that my poor mother could never hear the said clock wound up, but the thoughts of some other things unavoidably popped into her head-& vice versá:which strange combination of ideas, the sagacious Locke, who certainly understood the nature of these things better than most men, affirms to have produced more wry actions than all other sources of prejudice whatsoever.

But this by the bye.

Now it appears by a memorandum in my father's pocket-book, which now lies upon the table," That on Lady-day, which was on the 25th of the same month in which I date my geniture, my father set out upon his journey to London, with my eldest brother Bobby, to fix him at Westminster school;" and, as it appears from the same authority, "That he did not get down to his wife and family till the second week in May following,"-it brings the thing almost to a certainty. However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all possibility of doubt.

-But pray, sir, What was your father doing all December,January, and February?Why, madam,-he was all that time afflicted with a sciatica.

CHAP. V.

On the fifth day of November, 1718, which, to the æra fixed on, was as near nine calendar months as any husband could in reason have expected,-was I, Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, brought forth into this scurvy and disastrous world of ours.I wish I had been born in the Moon, or in any of the planets, (except Jupiter or Saturn, because I never could bear cold weather) for it could not well have fared worse with me in any of them (though I will not answer for Venus) than it has in this vile, dirty planet of ours,-which o'my conscience, with reverence be it spoken, I take to be made up of the shreds and clippings of the rest ;not but the planet is well enough, provided a man could be born in it to a great title or to a great estate; or could any how contrive to be called up to public charges, and employments of dignity or power;- -but that is not my case; and therefore, every man will speak of the fair as his own market has gone in it;

-for which cause I affirm it over again to be one of the vilest worlds that ever was made; -for I can truly say, that from the first hour I drew my breath in it, to this, that I can now scarce draw it at all, for an asthma I got in scating against the wind in Flanders ;-I have been the continual sport of what the world calls Fortune; and though I will not wrong her by saying, she has ever made me feel the weight of

any great or signal evil;yet, with all the good temper in the world, I affirm it of her, that in every stage of my life, and at every turn and corner where she could get fairly at me, the ungracious duchess has pelted me with a set of as pitiful misadventures and cross accidents as ever small HERO sustained.

CHAP. VI.

In the beginning of the last chapter, I informed you when I was born; but I did not inform you how. No; that particular was reserved entirely for a chapter by itself;-besides, sir, as you and I are in a manner perfect strangers to each other, it would not have been proper to have let you into too many circumstances relating to myself all at once.-You must have a little patience. I have undertaken, you see, to write not only my life, but my opinions also; hoping and expecting that your knowledge of my character, and of what kind of a mortal I am, by the one, would give you a better relish for the other: As you proceed farther with me, the slight acquaintance, which is now beginning betwixt us, will grow into familiarity; and that, unless one of us is in fault, will terminate in friendship. O diem præclarum!-then nothing which has touched me will be thought trifling in its nature, or tedious in its telling. Therefore, my dear friend and companion, if you should think me somewhat sparing of my narrative on my first setting out-bear with me,and let me go on, and tell my story my own way :-Or, if I should seem now and then to trifle upon the road,-or should sometimes put on a fool's cap with a bell to it, for a moment or two as we pass along,-don't fly off,-but rather courteously give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears upon my outside ;—and as we jog on, either laugh with me, or at me, or in short do any thing,-only keep your temper.

CHAP. VII.

In the same village where my father and my mother dwelt, dwelt also a thin, upright, motherly, notable, good old body of a midwife, who with the help of a little plain good sense, and some years full employment in her business, in which she had all along trusted little to her own efforts, and a great deal to those of dame Nature, had acquired, in her way, no small degree of reputation in the world :-by which word world, need I in this place inform your worship, that I would be understood to mean no more of it than a small circle described upon the circle of the great world, of four English miles diameter, or thereabouts, of which the cottage where the good old woman lived is supposed to be the centre ?-She had been left, it

mounted, though it is but for a minute beyond the time which my love to my country has prescribed to him, and my zeal for his glory wishes, -then, my Lord, I cease to be a philosopher, and in the first transport of an honest impatience I wish the HOBBY-HORSE, with all his fraternity, at the Devil.

"MY LORD,

"I MAINTAIN this to be a dedication, notwithstanding its singularity in the three great essentials of matter, form, and place: I beg, therefore, you will accept it as such, and that you will permit me to lay it, with the most respectful humility, at your Lordship's feet,when you are upon them,-which you can be when you please; and that is, my Lord, when ever there is occasion for it, and I will add, to the best purposes too. I have the honour to be,

"My Lord,

"Your Lordship's most obedient,
" and most devoted,

" and most humble servant,
"TRISTRAM SHANDY."

CHAP. IX.

I SOLEMNLY declare to all mankind, that the above dedication was made for no one Prince, Prelate, Pope, or Potentate,-Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, or Baron, of this, or any other realm in Christendom ;- -nor has it yet been hawked about, or offered publicly or privately, directly or indirectly, to any one person or personage, great or small; but is honestly a true Virgin Dedication, untried upon any soul living.

I labour this point so particularly, merely to remove any offence or objection which might arise against it from the manner in which I propose to make the most of it ;-which is the putting it up fairly to public sale; which I now do.

-Every author has a way of his own in bringing his points to bear ;-for my own part, as I hate chaffering and higgling for a few guineas in a dark entry;-I resolved within myself, from the very beginning, to deal squarely and openly with your Great Folks in this affair, and try whether I should not come off the better by

it.

If, therefore, there is any one Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, or Baron, in these his Majesty's dominions, who stands in need of a tight, genteel dedication, and whom the above will suit, (for by the bye, unless it suits in some degree, I will not part with it)—it is much at his service for fifty guineas; which I am positive is twenty guineas less than it ought to be afforded for, by any man of genius. My Lord, if you examine it over again, it is

far from being a gross piece of daubing, as some dedications are. The design, your Lordship sees, is good, the colouring transparent,—the drawing not amiss ;-or to speak more like a man of science, and measure my piece in the painter's scale, divided into 20,-I believe, my Lord, the outlines will turn out as 12,-the composition as 9, the colouring as 6,-the expression 13 and a half,-and the design,-if I may be allowed, my Lord, to understand my own design, and supposing absolute perfection in designing, to be as 20,-I think it cannot well fall short of 19. Besides all this, there is keeping in it; and the dark strokes in the HOBBY-HORSE, (which is a secondary figure, and a kind of back-ground to the whole) give great force to the principal lights in your own figure, and make it come off wonderfully;—and besides, there is an air of originality in the tout ensemble.

Be pleased, my good Lord, to order the sum to be paid into the hands of Mr Dodsley, for the benefit of the author; and in the next edition care shall be taken that this chapter be expunged, and your Lordship's titles, distinctions, arms, and good actions, be placed at the front of the preceding chapter: all which, from the words De gustibus non est disputandum, and whatever else in this book relates to HOBBYHORSES, but no more, shall stand dedicated to your Lordship.-The rest I dedicate to the Moon, who, by the bye, of all the Patrons, or Matrons, I can think of, has most power to set my book a-going, and make the world run mad after it.

Bright Goddess,

If thou art not too busy with CANDID and Miss CUNEGUND's affairs,-take Tristram Shandy's under thy protection also.

CHAP. X.

WHATEVER degree of small merit the act of benignity in favour of the midwife might justly claim, or in whom that claim truly rested,-at first sight seems not very material to this history;-certain, however, it was, that the gentlewoman, the parson's wife, did run away at that time with the whole of it: and yet, for my life, I cannot help thinking but that the parson himself, though he had not the good fortune to hit upon the design first,-yet, as he heartily concurred in it the moment it was laid before him, and as heartily parted with his money to carry it into execution, had a claim to some share of it,-if not to a full half of whatever honour was due to it.

The world at that time was pleased to determine the matter otherwise.

Lay down the book, and I will allow you half a day to give a probable guess at the grounds of this procedure,

Be it known then, that, for about five years before the date of the midwife's licence, of which you have had so circumstantial an account, the parson we have to do with had made himself a country-talk by a breach of all decorum, which he had committed against himself, his station, and his office;—and that was in never appearing better, or otherwise mounted, than upon a lean, sorry, jack-ass of a horse, value about one pound fifteen shillings; who, to shorten all description of him, was full brother to Rosinante as far as similitude congenial could make him; for he answered his description to a hair-breadth in every thing, except that I do not remember 'tis any where said, that Rosinante was broken-winded; and that, ́moreover, Rosinante, as is the happiness of most Spanish horses, fat or lean, was undoubtedly a horse at all points.

I know very well that the Hero's horse was a horse of chaste deportment, which may have given grounds for the contrary opinion; but it is as certain at the same time that Rosinante's continency (as may be demonstrated from the adventure of the Yanguesian carriers) proceeded from no bodily defect or cause whatsoever, but from the temperance and orderly current of his blood. And let me tell you, madam, there is a great deal of very good chastity in the world, in behalf of which you could not say more for your life.

Let that be as it may, as my purpose is to do exact justice to every creature brought upon the stage of this dramatic work,-I could not stifle this distinction in favour of Don Quixote's horse; in all other points, the parson's horse, I say, was just such another, for he was lean, and as lank, and as sorry a jade, as Humility herself could have bestrided.

In the estimation of here and there a man of weak judgment, it was greatly in the parson's power to have helped the figure of this horse of his, for he was master of a very handsome demi-peak'd saddle, quilted on the seat with green plush, garnished with a double row of silverheaded studs, and a noble pair of shining brass stirrups, with a housing altogether suitable, of grey superfine cloth, with an edging of black lace, terminating in a deep, black, silk fringe, poudre d'or :-all which he had purchased in the pride and prime of his life, together with a grand embossed bridle, ornamented at all points as it should be.But not caring to banter his beast, he had hung all these up behind his study door: and, in lieu of them, had seriously befitted him with just such a bridle and such a saddle, as the figure and value of such a steed might well and truly deserve.

In the several sallies about his parish, and in the neighbouring visits to the gentry who lived around him, you will easily comprehend, that the parson, so appointed, would both hear and see enough to keep his philosophy from

rusting. To speak the truth, he never could enter a village, but he caught the attention of both old and young.- -Labour stood still as he passed-the bucket hung suspended in the middle of the well,—the spinning-wheel forgot its round,-even chuck-farthing and shuffle-cap themselves stood gaping till he had got out of sight; and as his movement was not of the quickest, he had generally time enough upon his hands to make his observations, to hear the groans of the serious,-and the laughter of the light-hearted; all which he bore with excellent tranquillity.-His character was,-he loved a jest in his heart-and as he saw himself in the true point of ridicule, he would say he could not be angry with others for seeing him in a light, in which he so strongly saw himself: so that to his friends, who knew his foible was not the love of money, and who therefore made the less scruple in bantering the extravagance of his humour,-instead of giving the true cause, -he chose rather to join in the laugh against himself; and as he never carried one single ounce of flesh upon his own bones, being altogether as spare a figure as his beast,—he would sometimes insist upon it, that the horse was as good as the rider deserved;-that they were, centaur-like,-both of a piece. At other times, and in other moods, when his spirits were above the temptation of false wit,-he would say, he found himself going off fast in a consumption; and, with great gravity, would pretend, he could not bear the sight of a fat horse, without a dejection of heart, and a sensible alteration in his pulse; and that he had made choice of the lean one he rode upon, not only to keep himself in countenance, but in spirits.

At different times he would give fifty humorous and apposite reasons for riding a meek-spirited jade of a broken-winded horse, preferably to one of mettle ;-for on such a one he could sit mechanically, and meditate as delightfully de vanitate mundi et fugá sæculi, as with the advantage of a death's head before him ;that, in all other exercitations, he could spend his time, as he rode slowly along,-to as much account as in his study; that he could draw up an argument in his sermon,—or a hole in his breeches, as steadily on the one as in the other ;-that brisk trotting and slow argumentation, like wit and judgment, were two incompatible movements,but that upon his steed-he could unite and reconcile every thing;-he could compose his sermons, he could compose his cough,—and, in case nature give a call that way, he could likewise compose himself to sleep.-In short, the parson upon such encounters would assign any cause but the true cause,-and he withheld the true one, only out of a nicety of temper, because he thought it did honour to him.

But the truth of the story was as follows:In the first years of this gentleman's life, and about the time when the superb saddle and

bridle were purchased by him, it had been his manner, or vanity, or call it what you will,to run into the opposite extreme. In the language of the country where he dwelt, he was said to have loved a good horse, and generally had one of the best in the whole parish standing in his stable always ready for saddling; and as the nearest midwife, as I told you, did not live nearer to the village than seven miles, and in a vile country,-it so fell out that the poor gentleman was scarce a whole week together without some piteous application for his beast; and as he was not an unkind-hearted man, and every case was more pressing and more distressful than the last,-as much as he loved his beast, he had never a heart to refuse him; the upshot of which was generally this, that his horse was either clapp'd, or spavin'd, or greased ;-or he was twitter-boned, or broken-winded, or something, in short, or other had befallen him, which would let him carry no flesh;-so that he had every nine or ten months a bad horse to get rid of, and a good horse to purchase in his stead.

What the loss in such a balance might amount to, communibus annis, I would leave to a special jury of sufferers in the same traffic to deter mine ;-but let it be what it would, the honest gentleman bore it for many years without a murmur, till at length, by repeated ill accidents of the kind, he found it necessary to take the thing under consideration; and upon weighing the whole, and summing it up in his mind, he found it not only disproportioned to his other expences, but withal so heavy an article in itself, as to disable him from any other act of generosity in his parish: besides this, he considered that with half the sum thus galloped away, he could do ten times as much good ;-and what still weighed more with him than all other considerations put together, was this, that it confined all his charity into one particular channel, and where, as he fancied, it was the least wanted, namely, to the child-bearing and child-getting part of his parish; reserving nothing for the impotent,-nothing for the aged,-nothing for the many comfortless scenes he was hourly called forth to visit, where poverty, and sickness, and affliction dwell together.

--

For these reasons he resolved to discontinue the expence; and there appeared but two possible ways to extricate him clearly out of it; and these were, either to make it an irrevocable law never more to lend his steed upon any application whatever,-or else be content to ride the last poor devil, such as they had made him, with all his aches and infirmities, to the very end of the chapter.

As he dreaded his own constancy in the first -he very cheerfully betook himself to the second; and though he could very well have explained it, as I said, to his honour,-yet, for that very reason, he had a spirit above it; choosing rather to bear the contempt of his enemies, and

the laughter of his friends, than undergo the pain of telling a story, which might seem a panegyric upon himself.

I have the highest idea of the spiritual and refined sentiments of this reverend gentleman, from this single stroke in his character, which I think comes up to any of the honest refinements of the peerless Knight of La Mancha, whom by the bye, with all his follies, I love more, and would actually have gone farther to have paid a visit to, than the greatest hero of antiquity. But this is not the moral of my story: The thing I had in view was to shew the temper of the world in the whole of this affair.-For you must know, that so long as this explanation would have done the parson credit,—the devil a soul could find it out,-I suppose his enemies would not, and that his friends could not.But no sooner did he bestir himself in behalf of the midwife, and pay the expences of the ordinary's licence to set her up, but the whole secret came out; every horse he had lost, and two horses more than ever he had lost, with all the circumstances of their destruction, were known and distinctly remembered.-The story ran like wildfire." The parson had a returning fit of pride which had just seized him; and he was going to be well mounted once again in his life; and if it was so, 'twas plain as the sun at noonday, he would pocket the expence of the licence ten times told, the very first year :-so that every body was left to judge what were his views in this act of charity."

"

What were his views in this, and in every other action of his life, or rather what were the opinions which floated in the brains of other people concerning it, was a thought which too much floated in his own, and too often broke in upon his rest, when he should have been sound asleep.

About ten years ago this gentleman had the good fortune to be made entirely easy upon that score,-it being just so long since he left his parish, and the whole world at the same time behind him;-and stands accountable to a Judge, of whom he will have no cause to complain.

But there is a fatality attends the actions of some men order them as they will, they pass through a certain medium, which so twists and refracts them from their true direction—that, with all the titles to praise which a rectitude of heart can give, the doers of them are nevertheless forced to live and die without it.

Of the truth of which, this gentleman was a painful example.--But to know by what means this came to pass, and to make that knowledge of use to you, I insist upon it that you read the two following chapters, which contain such a sketch of his life and conversation, as will carry its moral along with it. When this is done, if nothing stops us in our way, we will go on with the midwife.