FROM this moment I am to be
considered as heir-apparent to the
Shandy family -- and it is from this point
properly, that the story of my LIFE
and my OPINIONS sets out ; with all
my hurry and precipitation I have but
been
been clearing the ground to raise the
building ---- and such a building do I
foresee it will turn out, as never was
planned, and as never was executed since
Adam. In less than five minutes I shall
have thrown my pen into the fire, and
the little drop of thick ink which is left
remaining at the bottom of my ink-
horn, after it -- I have but half a score
things to do in the time ---- I have a
thing to name -- a thing to lament -- a
thing to hope -- a thing to promise, and
a thing to threaten -- I have a thing to
suppose -- a thing to declare -- a thing
to conceal -- a thing to chuse, and a
thing to pray for. -- This chapter, there-
fore, I name the chapter of THINGS --
and my next chapter to it, that is, the
first chapter of my next volume, if I live,
shall be my chapter upon WHISKERS,
in
in order to keep up some sort of con-
nection in my works.
The thing I lament is, that things
have crowded in so thick upon me,
that I have not been able to get into
that part of my work, towards which,
I have all the way, looked forwards,
with so much earnest desire ; and that is
the campaigns, but especially the amours
of my uncle Toby, the events of which
are of so singular a nature, and so Cer-
vantick a cast, that if I can so manage
it, as to convey but the same impressions
to every other brain, which the occur-
rences themselves excite in my own ----
I will answer for it the book shall make
its way in the world, much better
than its master has done before it ----
Oh Tristram ! Tristram ! can this but
be once brought about ---- the credit,
which
which will attend thee as an author,
shall counterbalance the many evils which
have befallen thee as a man -- thou wilt
feast upon the one -- when thou hast
lost all sense and remembrance of the
other ! ----
No wonder I itch so much as I do,
to get at these amours -- They are the
choicest morsel of my whole story ! and
when I do get at 'em -- assure yourselves,
good folks, -- (nor do I value whose
squeamish stomach takes offence at it)
I shall not be at all nice in the choice of
my words ; ---- and that's the thing I
have to declare. -- I shall never get all
through in five minutes, that I fear --
and the thing I hope is, that your wor-
ships and reverences are not offended --
if you are, depend upon't I'll give you
something, my good gentry, next year,
2 to
to be offended at ---- that's my dear
Jenny's way -- but who my Jenny is --
and which is the right and which the
wrong end of a woman, is the thing
to be concealed -- it shall be told you
the next chapter but one, to my chapter
of button-holes, -- and not one chapter
before.
And now that you have just got to
the end of these four volumes ---- the
thing I have to ask is, how you feel
your heads ? my own akes dismally --
as for your healths, I know, they are
much better ---- TrueShandeism, think
what you will against it, opens the
heart and lungs, and like all those af-
fections which partake of its nature, it
forces the blood and other vital fluids of
the body to run freely thro' its channels,
VOL. IV. P and
and makes the wheel of life run long
and chearfully round.
Was I left like Sancho Pança, to
chuse my kingdom, it should not be
maritime -- or a kingdom of blacks to
make a penny of ---- no, it should
be a kingdom of hearty laughing sub-
jects : And as the bilious and more sa-
turnine passions, by creating disorders
in the blood and humours, have as bad
an influence, I see, upon the body politick
as body natural -- and as nothing but a
habit of virtue can fully govern those
passions, and subject them to reason -- I
should add to my prayer -- that God
would give my subjects grace to be as
WISE as they were MERRY ; and then
should I be the happiest monarch, and
they the happiest people under heaven --
3 And
And so, with this moral for the pre-
sent, may it please your worships and
your reverences, I take my leave of you
till this time twelve-month, when (unless
this vile cough kills me in the mean
time) I'll have another pluck at your
beards, and lay open a story to the
world you little dream of.
|
|
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|