The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne (pdf e book reader txt) 📕

leave to qualify whatever has been unguardedly said to their dispraise or prejudice, by one general declaration⁠⸺⁠That I have no abhorrence whatever, nor do I detest and abjure either great wigs or long beards, any farther than when I see they are bespoke and let grow on purpose to carry on this selfsame imposture⁠—for any purpose⁠⸺⁠peace be with them!⁠—☞ mark only⁠⸺⁠I write not for them. XXI

Every day for at least ten years together did my father resolve to have it mended⁠—’tis not mended yet;⁠—no family but ours would have borne with it an hour⁠⸺⁠and what is most astonishing, there was not a subject in the world upon which my father was so eloquent, as upon that of door-hinges.⁠⸺⁠And yet at the same time, he was certainly one of the greatest bubbles to them, I think, that history can produce: his rhetorick and conduct were at perpetual handy-cuffs.⁠—Never did the parlour-door open⁠—but his philosophy or his principles fell a victim to it;⁠⸺⁠three drops of oil with a feather, and a smart stroke of a hammer, had saved his honour forever.

⸺⁠Inconsistent soul that man is!⁠⸺⁠languishing under wounds, which he has the power to heal!⁠—his whole life a contradiction to his knowledge!⁠—his reason, that precious gift of God to him⁠—(instead of pouring in oil) serving but to sharpen his sensibilities⁠—to multiply his pains, and render him more melancholy and uneasy under them⁠—Poor unhappy creature, that he should do so!⁠⸺⁠Are not the necessary causes of misery in this life enow, but he must add voluntary ones to his stock of sorrow;⁠—struggle against evils which cannot be avoided, and submit to others, which a tenth part of the trouble they create him would remove from his heart forever?

By all that is good and virtuous, if there are three drops of oil to be got, and a hammer to be found within ten miles of Shandy Hall⁠⸻the parlour door hinge shall be mended this reign.

XXII

When Corporal Trim had brought his two mortars to bear, he was delighted with his handy-work above measure; and knowing what a pleasure it would be to his master to see them, he was not able to resist the desire he had of carrying them directly into his parlour.

Now next to the moral lesson I had in view in mentioning the affair of hinges, I had a speculative consideration arising out of it, and it is this.

Had the parlour door opened and turn’d upon its hinges, as a door should do⁠—

Or for example, as cleverly as our government has been turning upon its hinges⁠⸺(that is, in case things have all along gone well with your worship,⁠—otherwise I give up my simile)⁠—in this case, I say, there had been no danger either to master or man, in Corporal Trim’s peeping in: the moment he had beheld my father and my uncle Toby fast asleep⁠—the respectfulness of his carriage was such, he would have retired as silent as death, and left them both in their armchairs, dreaming as happy as he had found them: but the thing was, morally speaking, so very impracticable, that for the many years in which this hinge was suffered to be out of order, and amongst the hourly grievances my father submitted to upon its account⁠—this was one; that he never folded his arms to take his nap after dinner, but the thoughts of being unavoidably awakened by the first person who should open the door, was always uppermost in his imagination, and so incessantly stepp’d in betwixt him and the first balmy presage of his repose, as to rob him, as he often declared, of the whole sweets of it.

“When things move upon bad hinges, an’ please your lordships, how can it be otherwise?”

Pray what’s the matter? Who is there? cried my father, waking, the moment the door began to creak.⁠⸺⁠I wish the smith would give a peep at that confounded hinge.⁠⸺’Tis nothing, an’ please your honour, said Trim, but two mortars I am bringing in.⁠—They shan’t make a clatter with them here, cried my father hastily.⁠—If Dr. Slop has any drugs to pound, let him do it in the kitchen.⁠—May it please your honour, cried Trim, they are two mortar-pieces for a siege next summer, which I have been making out of a pair of jackboots, which Obadiah told me your honour had left off wearing.⁠—By Heaven! cried my father, springing out of his chair, as he swore⁠⸺⁠I have not one appointment belonging to me, which I set so much store by as I do by these jackboots⁠⸺⁠they were our great grandfather’s, brother Toby⁠—they were hereditary. Then I fear, quoth my uncle Toby, Trim has cut off the entail.⁠—I have only cut off the tops, an’ please your honour, cried Trim⁠⸺⁠I hate perpetuities as much as any man alive, cried my father⁠⸺⁠but these jackboots, continued he (smiling, though very angry at the same time) have been in the family, brother, ever since the civil wars;⁠⸺⁠Sir Roger Shandy wore them at the battle of Marston-Moor.⁠—I declare I would not have taken ten pounds for them.⁠⸺⁠I’ll pay you the money, brother Shandy, quoth my uncle Toby, looking at the two mortars with infinite pleasure, and putting his hand into his breeches pocket as he viewed them⁠⸺⁠I’ll pay you the ten pounds this moment with all my heart and soul.⁠⸺⁠

Brother Toby, replied my father, altering his tone, you care not what money you dissipate and throw away, provided, continued he, ’tis but upon a siege.⁠⸺⁠Have I not one hundred and twenty pounds a year, besides my half pay? cried my uncle Toby.⁠—What is that⁠—replied my father hastily⁠—to ten pounds for a pair of jackboots?⁠—twelve guineas for your pontoons?⁠—half as much for your Dutch drawbridge?⁠—to say nothing of the train of little brass artillery you bespoke last week, with twenty other preparations for the siege of Messina: believe me, dear brother Toby, continued my father, taking him kindly by the hand⁠—these military operations of yours are above your strength;⁠—you mean well, brother⁠⸺⁠but they carry you into greater expenses than you were first aware