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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 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 Utretcht, and grieved the war was not carried on with vigour a little longer, you should think your brother did it upon unworthy views ; or that in wishing for war, he should be bad enongh to wish more of his fellow creatures 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 ground it?
If, when I was a school-boy, I could not hear a drum beat, but my heart beat with it—was it niy fault? Did I plant the propensity there? Did I sound the alarm within, or Nature?
When Guy, Earl of Warwick, and Parismus and Parismenus, and Valentine and Orson, and the Seven Champions of England were handed around the school, -were they not all purchased with my own pocket-money?~Was that selfish, brother Shandy? When we read over the siege of Troy, which lasted ten years and eight months,—though with 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 Greeks and Trojans as any boy of the whole school? Had I not three strokes of a ferula 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 Priam came to the camp to beg his body, and returned weeping back to Troy without it,-you know, brother, I could not eat my dinner.
-Did that bespeak me cruel? Or, because, brother Shandy, my blood flew out into the camp, and my heart panted for war,—was it a proof it could not ache for the distresses of war too?
O brother! 'tis one thing for a soldier to gather laurels,-and 'tis another to scatter cypress.
-Tis 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 :Tis one thing, from public spirit and a thirst of glory, to enter the breach the first man,-to stand in the foremost rank, and march bravely on with drums and trumpets, and colours flying about his ears ;'tis one thing, I say, brother Shandy, to do this ; -and 'tis another thing to reflect on the miseries of war,—to view the desolations of whole countries, and consider the intolerable fatignes and hardships which the soldier himself, the instrument who works them, is forced (for sixpence a-day, if he can get to undergo.
Need I be told, dear Yorick, as I was by you, in Le Fevre's funeral sermon, That so soft and gentle a creature, born to love mercy and kindness, as man is, was not shaped for this ? But why did you not add, Yorick,—if not by NATURE,--that he is 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 the getting together of quiet and harniless people, with their swords in their hands, to keep the ambitious and the turbulent within bounds! And Heaven is my witness, brother Shandy, that the 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 end of our creation.
It was in the road betwixt Nismes and Lunel, where there is the best Muscatto wine in all France, and which, by-the-by, belongs to the honest canons of MONTPELLIER,—and foul befal the man who has drank it at their table, who grudges them a drop of it.
- The sun was set-they had done their work, the nymphs had tied up their hair afresh—and the swains were preparing for a carousal
-my mule made a dead point- _'Tis the fife and tabourin, said I—I'm frightened to death, quoth heThey are running at the ring of pleasure, said I, giving him a prick- -by saint Boogar, and all the saints at the backside of the door of purgatory, said he(making the same resolution with the abbesse of Andouillets) I'll not go a step further- "Tis very well, Sir, said I-I never will argue a point with one of your family as long as I live; so leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot into this ditch, and tother into that I'll take a dance, said I-so.stay you here.
A sun-burnt daughter of labour rose up from the group to meet me, as I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chesnut, approaching rather to a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a single tress.
We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as if to offer them—And a cavalier ye shall have, said I, taking hold of both of them.
Hadst thou, Nannette, been array'd like a duchesse !
- But that cursed slit in thy petticoat! Nannette cared not for it.
We could not have done without you, said she, letting go one hand, with self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.
A lame youth, whom Apollo liad recompensed with a pipe, and to wliich he had adder! a tabourin of his own accord, ran sweetly over tlie prelude, as he sat upon the bank—Tie me up this tress instantly, said Nannette, putting a piece of string into my hande It taught me to forget I was a stranger - The whole knot fell down-- We had been seven years acquainted.
The youth struck the note upon the tabourinhis pipe followed, and off we bounded—the deuce take that slit!'
The sister of the youth, who had stolen her voice from heaven, sung alternately with her brother'twas a Gascoigne roundelay.
VIVA LA JOIA !
FIDON LA TRISTESSA ! The nymphs joined in unison, and their swains anoctave below them
I would have given a crown to have it sew'd up
- Nannette would not have given a sous—Viva la joia! was in her lips---Viva la joia! was in her eyes. A transient spark of amity shot across the space betwixtus—She look'd amiable !-Why could I not live, and end my days thus ! Just Disposer of our joys and sorrows, cried I, why could not a man sit down in the lap of content here and dance, and sing, and say his prayers, and go to heaven with this nut-brown maid ? Capriciously did she bend her head on one side, and dance up insidious - -Then 'tis time to dance off, quoth I! so changing only partners and tunes, I danced it away from Lunel to Montpellier~from thence to Pescnas, Beziers--I danced it along through Narbonne, Carcasson, and Castle Naudairy, till at last I danced myself into Perdrillo's pavilion.
I MUST here inform you, that this servant of my uncle Toby's, who went by the name of Trim, had been a Corporal in my uncle's own company,-his real name was James Butler,—but having got the nick-name of Trim in the regiment, my uncle Toby, unless when he happened to be very angry with him, would never call him by any other name.
The poor fellow had been disabled for the service, by a wound on his left knee by a musket bullet at the battle of Landen, which was two years before the affair of Namur;-and as the fellow