The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman
Your greatness of mind in this action, which I admire, with that generous contempt of money which you shew me in the whole transaction, is really noble;---and what renders it more so, is the principle of it;---the workings of a parent’s love upon the truth and conviction of this very hypothesis, namely, That was your son called JUDAS,---the sordid and treacherous idea, so inseparable from the name, would have accompanied him thro’ life like his shadow, and, in the end, made a miser and a rascal of him, in spight, Sir, of your example.
I never knew a man able to answer this argument.——But, indeed, to speak of my father as he was;—he was certainly irresistible, both in his orations and disputations;—he was born an orator;—Θεοδίδαχ.10—Persuasion hung upon his lips, and the elements of Logick and Rhetorick were so blended up in him,—and, with all, he had so shrewd guess at the weaknesses and passions of his respondent,——that NATURE might have stood up and said,—“This man is eloquent.”11 In short, whether he was on the weak or the strong side of the question, ’twas hazardous in either case to attack him:—And yet, ’tis strange, he had never read Cicero nor Qumtilian de Oratore, nor isocrates, nor Aristotle, nor Longinus amongst the antients;—— nor Vossms, nor Skioppius, nor Ramus, nor Farna by amongst the moderns;—and what is more astonishing, he had never in his whole life the least light or spark of subtilty struck into his mind, by one single lecture upon Crackenthorp or Burgers-diaus, or any Dutch logician or commentator;12—he knew not so much as in what the difference of an argument ad igno-rantiam, 13 and an argument ad hominem consisted; so that I well remember, when he went up along with me to enter my name at Jesus College14 in * * * *,—it was a matter of just wonder with my worthy tutor, and two or three fellows of that learned society,---that a man who knew not so much as the names of his tools, should be able to work after that fashion with ’em.
To work with them in the best manner he could, was what my father was, however, perpetually forced upon;——for he had a thousand little sceptical notions of the comick kind to defend,——most of which notions, I verily believe, at first enter’d upon the footing of mere whims, and of a vive la Bagatelle;15 and as such he would make merry with them for half an hour or so, and having sharpen’d his wit upon ’em, dismiss them till another day.
I mention this, not only as matter of hypothesis or conjecture upon the progress and establishment of my father’s many odd opinions,--but as a warning to the learned reader against the indiscreet reception of such guests, who, after a free and undisturbed enterance, for some years, into our brains,—at length claim a kind of settlement there,——working sometimes like yeast;—but more generally after the manner of the gentle passion, beginning in jest,—but ending in downright earnest.
Whether this was the case of the singularity of my father’s notions,—or that his judgment, at length, became the dupe of his wit;—or how far, in many of his notions, he might, tho’ odd, be absolutely right;——the reader, as he comes at them, shall decide. All that I maintain here, is, that in this one, of the influence of Christian names, however it gain’d footing, he was serious;—he was all uniformity;—he was systematical, and, like all systematick reasoners, he would move both heaven and earth, and twist and torture every thing in nature to support his hypothesis. In a word, I repeat it over again;—he was serious;— and, in consequence of it, he would lose all kind of patience whenever he saw people, especially of condition, who should have known better,——as careless and as indifferent about the name they imposed upon their child,—or more so, than in the choice of Ponto or Cupid for their puppy dog.
This, he would say, look’d ill;—and had, moreover, this particular aggravation in it, viz. That when once a vile name was wrongfully or injudiciously given, ’twas not like the case of a man’s character, which, when wrong’d, might hereafter be clear’d;——and, possibly, some time or other, if not in the man’s life, at least after his death,—be, somehow or other, set to rights with the world: But the injury of this, he would say, could never be undone;---nay, he doubted even whether an act of parliament could reach it:——He knew as well as you, that the legislature assum’d a power over surnames;—but for very strong reasons, which he could give, it had never yet adventured, he would say, to go a step further.
It was observable, that tho’ my father, in consequence of this opinion, had, as I have told you, the strongest likings and dislikings towards certainnames;—that there were still numbers of names which hung so equally in the balance before him, that they were absolutely indifferent to him. Jack, Dick, and Tom were of this class: These my father call’d neutral names;— affirming of them, without a satyr, That there had been as many knaves and fools, at least, as wise and good men, since the world began, who had indifferently borne them;---so that, like equal forces acting against each other in contrary directions, he thought they mutually destroyed each others effects; for which reason, he would of ten declare, He would not give a cherry-stone to choose amongst them. Bob, which was my brother’s name, was another of these neutral kinds of Christian names, which operated very little either way; and as my father happen’d to be at Epsom,16 when it was given him,—he would oft times thank heaven it was no worse. Andrew was something like a negative quantity in Algebra with him;---’twas worse, he said, than nothing.--- William stood pretty high:-----Numps again was low with him;--and Nick,17 he said, was the DEVIL.
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 any thing in the world,---thinking it could possibly produce nothing in rerum naturâ,18 but what was extreamly 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,19 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 remember’d, whether he had ever read,---or even whether he had ever heard tell of a man, call’d Tristram, performing any thing 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 Nicom-poop, 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.
CHAP. 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 su
ch 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 or 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 Pliny1 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,2 or of the Seven Champions of England,3 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 self-same vile pruriency for fresh adventures in all things, has got so strongly into our habit and humours,—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 a 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 paroître aucune partie de son corps, ce qui seroit un cas, suivant les rituels, de lui conferer, 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 demande si ce moyen, qu’il vient de proposer, est permis & legitime, & s’il peut s’en servir dans le cas qu’il vient d’exposer.
RÉPONSE.
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, 3â. part. quæst. 68. 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 mères, et 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 recevoir par leur ministère les sacremens nécessaires au salut: pueri in materais utens existentes nondum prodierunt in lucem ut cum alus homimbus vitam ducant; unde non possunt subjici actiom humanæ, ut per eorum mimstenum sacramenta recipiant ad salutem. Les rituels ordonnent dans la pratique ce que les théologiens ont établi sur les mêmes matières, & ils deffendent tous d’une maniere uniforme de baptiser les enfans qui sont renfermés dans le sein de leurs mères, s’ils ne font paraître quelque partie de leurs corps. Le concours des théologiens, & des rituels, qui sont les regles des dioceses, paraît former une autorité qui termine la question presente; cependant le conseil de conscience considerant d’un côté, que le raisonnement des theologiens est uniquement fondé sur une raison de convenance, & que la deffense des rituels, suppose que l’on ne peut baptiser immédiatement les enfans ainsi renfermés dans le sein de leurs mères, ce qui est contre la supposition presente; & d’un autre côté, considérant que les mêmes théologiens enseignent, que l’on peut risquer les sacremens qu’ 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, pourraient être capables de salut, parce qu’ils sont capables de damnation;—pour ces considerations, & eu égard 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 regle universellement établie, le conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit s’adresser à son evêque, à qui il appartient de juger de l’utilité, & du danger du moyen proposé, & comme, sous le bon plaisir de Vevêque, le conseil estime qu’il faudrait recourir au Pape, qui a le droit d’expliquer les regles de l’église, & d’y déroger dans les cas, où la loi ne sçauroit obliger, quelque sage & quelque utile que paroisse la maniere de baptiser dont il s’agit, le conseil ne pourrait l’approuver sans le concours de ces deux autorités. On conseille au moins à celui qui consulte, de s’adresser à son evêque, & de lui faire part de la presente décision, afin que, si le prélat 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 pourrait s’en servir, croit cependant que, si les enfans dont il s’agit venaient au monde, contre l’espérance de ceux qui se seraient servis du même moyen, il serait 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 faitparoître quelque partie de son corps, enjoignent néanmoins, & ordonnent de le baptiser sous condition, s’il vient heureusement au monde.
Délibéré 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, 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 (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 a le pere.5
CHAP. 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,1——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 out-lines 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,2 in writing one of his long prefaces, (if I mistake not) most fortunately hit upon it. Indeed towards the latter end of queen Anne, the great Addison3 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.