-BUT before the corporal begins, I must first give you a
description of his attitude;-otherwise, he wig naturally
stand represented, by your imagination, in an uneasy pos-
ture,-Stiff,-perpendicular,-dividing the weight of his body
equally upon both legs;-his eye fixed, as if on duty;-his
look determined,-clinching the sermon in his left hand,
Eke his firelock:-In a word, you would be apt to paint
Trim, as if he was standing in his platoon ready for action:
-His attitude was as unlike all this as you can conceive.
He stood before them with his body swayed, and bent
forwards just so far, as to make an angle of 8.5 degrees and a
half upon the plain of the horizon;-which sound orators,
to whom I address this, know very well, to be the true per-
suasive angle of incidence;-in any other angle you may
talk and preach;-'tis certain;-and it is done every day;-
but with what effect,-I leave the world to judge I
The necessity of this precise angle of 85 degrees and a half
to a mathematical exactness, -does it not shew us, by the
way how the arts and sciences mutually befriend each
other?
How the deuce Corporal Trim, who knew not so much
as an acute angle from an obtuse one, came to hit it so
exactly; or whether it was chance or nature, or good
sense or imitation, &c. shall be commented upon in that part
of this cyclopaedia of arts and sciences, where the instru-
mental parts of the eloquence of the senate, the pulpit, the
bar, the coffee-house, the bed-chamber, and fire-side, fall
under consideration.
He stood,-for I repeat it, to take the picture of him
in at one view, with his body swayed, and somewhat bent
forwards,-his right leg firm under him, sustaining seven-
eighths of his whole weight,-the foot of his left leg, the
defect of which was no disadvantage to his attitude, ad-
vanced a little,-not laterally, nor forwards, but in a line
betwixt them;-his knee bent, but that not violently,-but
so as to fall within the limits of the line of beauty;-and I
add, of the line of science too;-for consider, it had one-
eighth part of his body to bear up;-so that in this case the
position of the leg is determined,-because the foot could be
no further advanced, or the knee more bent, than what
would allow him mechanically, to receive an eighth part of
his whole weight under it-and to carry it too.
This I recommend to painters: -need I add,-to
orators?-l think not; for unless they practise it-they must
fall upon their noses.
So much for Corporal Trim's body and legs.-He held
the sermon loosely,-not carelessly, in his left hand, raised
something above his stomach, and detached a little from his
breast;-his right arm falling negligently by his side, as
nature and the laws of gravity ordered it-but with the
palm of it open and turned towards his audience, ready to
aid the sentiment, in case it stood in need.
Corporal Trim's eyes and the muscles of his face were
in full harmony with the other parts of him;-he looked
frank,-unconstrained, - Something assured,-but not bord-
ering upon assurance.
I&t not the critic ask how Corporal Trim could come by
all this; I've told him it shall be explained;-but so he
stood before my father, my uncle
Toby, and Dr Slop,-so
swayed his body, so contrasted his limbs, and with such an
oratorical sweep throughout the whole figure;-a statuary
might have modelled from it;-nay, I doubt whether the
oldest Fellow of a College,-or the Hebrew Professor him-
self, could have much mended it.
Trim made a bow, and read as follows:
The SERMON
HEBREWS xiii. 18
-For we trust we have a good Conscience.-
'TRUST I-Trust we have a good conscience l'
[Certainly, Trim, quoth my father, interrupting him, you
give that sentence a very improper accent; for you curl up
your nose, man, and read it with such a sneering tone, as if
the Parson was going to abuse the Apostle.
He is, an' please your honour, replied Trim. Pugh said
my father, smiling.
Sir, quoth Dr Slop, Trim is certainly in the right; for the
writer (who I perceive is a Protestant) by the snappish
manner in which he takes up the Apostle, is certainly going
to abuse him,-if this treatment of him has not done it
already. But from whence, replied my father, have you con-
cluded so soon, Dr Slop, that the
writer is of our church?-
for aught I can see yet,-he may be of any church:
Because answered Dr Slop, if he
was of ours,-he durst no
more take such a licence,-than a bear by his beard;-If, in
our communion, Sir, a man was to insult an Apostle,-a
saint,-or even the paring of a saint's nail,-he would have
his eves scratched out.-What, by the saint? quoth my
uncle Toby. No, replied Dr Slop,-he would have an old
house over his head. Pray is the Inquisition an ancient
building, answered my uncle Toby, or is it a modem one?-
I know nothing of architecture, replied Dr Slop.-An' please
your honours, quoth Trim, the Inquisition is the vilest-
Prithee spare thy description, Trim, I hate the very name
of it, said my father.-No matter for that, answered Dr
Slop,-it has its uses; for though
I'm no great advocate for
it, vet in such a case as this, be would soon be taught better
I
manners; and I can tell him, if he went on at that rate,
would be flung into the Inquisition for his pains. God help
him then, quoth my uncle Toby. Amen, added Trim; for
heaven above knows, I have a poor brother who has been
fourteen years a captive in it.-I never heard one word of
it before, said my uncle Toby, hastily: -How came he there,
Trim?-O, Sir! the story will make your heart bleed,-as
it has made mine a thousand times;-but it is too long to
be told now;-your honour shall hear it from first to last
some day when I am working beside you in our fortifica-
tions;-but the short of the story is this;-That my brother
Tom went over a servant to Lisbon,-and then married a
Jew's widow, who kept a small shop, and sold sausages,
which, somehow or other, was the cause of his being taken
in the middle of the night out of his bed, where he was
lying with his wife and two small children, and carried
directly to the Inquisition, where, God help him, continued
Trim, fetching a sigh from the bottom of his heart,-the
poor honest lad lies confined at this hour;-he was as
honest a soul, added Trim, (pulling out his handkerchief as
ever blood warmed '
-The tears trickled down Trim's cheeks faster than he
could well wipe them away.-A dead silence in the room en-
sued for some minutes.-Certain proof of pity!
Come, Trim, quoth my father, after he saw the poor
fellow's grief had got a little vent,-read on,-and put this
melancholy story out of thy head:-l grieve that I inter-
rupted thee;-but prithee begin the sermon again;-for if
the first sentence in it is matter of abuse, as thou sayest, I
have a great desire to know what kind of provocation the
Apostle has given.
Corporal Trim wiped his face, and returning his handker-
chief into his pocket, and, making a bow as he did it,-he
began again.]
The SERMON
HEBREWS xiii. 18
-For we trust we have a good Conscience.-
'TRUST! trust we have a good conscience! Surely if there
is any thing in this life which a man may depend upon, and
to the knowledge of which he is capable of arriving upon
the most indisputable evidence, it must be this very thing,-
whether he has a good conscience or no.'
[I am positive I am right, quoth Dr Slop.]
'If a man thinks at all, he cannot well be a stranger to
the true state of this account;-he must be privy to his
own thoughts and desires;-he must remember his past
pursuits, and know certainly the true springs and motives,
which, in general, have governed the actions of his life.'
[I defy him, without an assistant, quoth Dr Slop.]
'In other matters we may be deceived by false appearances;
and, as the wise man complains, hardly do we guess a-right
at the things that are upon the earth, and with tabour do
we find the things that are before us. But here the mind has
all the evidence and facts within herself;-is conscious of
the web she has wove;-knows its texture and fineness,
and the exact share which every passion has had in working
upon the several designs which virtue or vice has planned
before her.'
[The language is good, and I declare Trim reads very well,
quoth my father.]
'Now,-as conscience is nothing else but the knowledge
which the mind has within herself of this; and the judg-
ment, either of approbation or censure, which it unavoid-
ably makes upon the successive actions of our lives; 'tis plain
you will say, from the very terms of the proposition,-
whenever this inward testimony goes against a man, and he
stands self-accused that he must necessarily be a guilty
man.-And, on the contrary, when the report is favourable
on his side, and his heart condemns him not;-that it is not
a matter of trust, as the Apostle intimates,-but a matter
of certainty and fact, that the conscience is good, and that
the man must be good also.'
[Then the Apostle is altogether in the wrong, I suppose,
quoth Dr Slop, and the
Protestant divine is in the right.
Sir, have patience, replied my father, for I think it will pre-
sently appear that St Paul and the Protestant divine are
both of an opinion.-As nearly so, quoth Dr Slop, as east is
to west;-but this, continued he, lifting both hands, comes
from the liberty of the press.
It is no more, at the worst, replied my uncle Toby, than
the liberty of the pulpit; for it does not appear that the
sermon is printed, or ever likely to be.
Go on, Trim, quoth my father.]
'At first sight this may seem to be a true state of the case;
and I make no doubt but the knowledge of right and wrong
is so truly impressed upon the mind of man,-that did no
such thing ever happen, as that the conscience of a man,
by long habits of sin, might (as the scripture assures it may)
insensibly become hard;-and, like some tender parts of his
body, by much stress and continual hard usage, lose, by
degrees, that nice sense and perception with which God
and nature endowed it: -Did this never happen; r was
it certain that self-love could never hang the least bias upon
the judgment;-or that the little interests below could rise
up and perplex the faculties of our upper regions, and en-
compass them about with clouds and thick darkness: -
Could no such thing as favour and affection enter this sacred
COURT:-Did WIT disdain to take a bribe in it;-or was
ashamed to shew its face as an advocate for an unwarrant-
able enjoyment: , lastly, were we assured that
INTEREsT stood always unconcerned whilst the cause was
hearing,-and that passion never got into the judgment-
seat, and pronounced sentence in the stead of reason, which
is supposed always to preside and determine upon the case:
-Was this truly so, as the objection must suppose;-no
doubt then, the religious and moral state of a man would
be exactly what he himself esteemed it;-and the guilt or
innocence of every man's life could be known, in general,
by no better measure, than the degrees of his own approba-
tion and censure.
'I own, in one case, whenever a man's conscience does
accuse him (as it seldom errs on that side) that he is guilty;
and, unless in melancholy and hypocondriac cases, we may
safely pronounce upon it, that there is always sufficient
grounds for the accusation.
'But the converse of the proposition will not hold true;-
namely, that whenever there is guilt, the conscience must
accuse; and if it does not, that a man is therefore innocent.
-This is not fact: -So that the common consolation which
some good Christian or other is hourly administering to him-
self,-that he thanks God his mind does not missive him;
and that, consequently, he has a good conscience, because
he has a quiet one,-is fallacious;-and as current as the
inference is, and as infallible as the rule appears at first
sight, yet, when you look nearer to it, and try the truth of
this rule upon plain facts,-you see it liable to so much error
from a false application;-the principle upon which it goes
so often perverted;-the whole force of it lost, and sometimes
so vilely cast away, that it is painful to produce the com-
mon examples from human life which confirm the account.
'A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his prin-
ciples;-exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall live
shameless, in the open commission of a sin which no reason
or pretence can justify;-a sin, by which contrary to all
the workings of humanity, he shall ruin for ever the de-
luded partner of his guilt;-rob her of her best dowry; and
not only cover her own head with dishonour;-but involve
a whole virtuous family in shame and sorrow for her sake.
Surely, you will think conscience must lead such a
man a troublesome life;-he can have no rest night or day
from its reproaches.
'Alas! CONSCIENCE had something else to do, all this
time, than break in upon him; as Elijah reproached the god
Baal this domestic god was either talking, or pursuing,
or was in a journey, or peradventure he slept and could not
be awoke.
'Perhaps HE was gone out in company with
HONOUR to
fight a duel; to pay off some debt at play; - or dirty
annuity, the bargain of his lust: Perhaps CONSCIENCE all
this time was engaged at home, talking loud against petty
larceny, and executing vengeance upon some such puny
crimes as his fortune and rank in life secured him against
all temptation of committing; so that he lives as merrily,'
-[If he was of our church, though, quoth Dr Slop, he
could not]-'sleeps as soundly in his bed;-and at last meets
death as unconcernedly;-perhaps much more so than a
much better man.'
[All this is impossible with us, quoth Dr Slop, fuming to
my father,-the case could not happen in our church.-It
happens in ours, however, replied my father, but too often.
-1 own, quoth Dr Slop
(struck a little with my father's
frank acknowledgment)-that a man in the Romish church
may live as badly;-but then he cannot easily die so. 'Tis
little matter, replied my father, with an air of indifference,-
how a rascal dies.-I mean, answered Dr Slop, he would be
denied the benefits of the last sacraments-Pray how many
have you in all, said my uncle Toby,-for I always forget?
-Seven, answered Dr Slop.
Humph! - said my uncle
Toby; though not accented as a note of acquiescence,-but
as an interjection of that particular species of surprise, when
a man, in looking into a drawer, finds more of a thing than
he expected.-Humph I replied my uncle Toby. Dr Slop,
who had an ear, understood my uncle Toby as well as if he
had wrote a whole volume against the seven sacraments.
-Humph I replied Dr Slop,
(stating my uncle Toby's
argument over again to him)-Why, Sir, are there not seven
cardinal virtues?-Seven mortal sins?-Seven golden
candlesticks?-Seven heavens?-'Tis more than I know, re-
plied my uncle Toby.-Are there not seven wonders of
the world?-Seven days of the creation?-Seven planets?-
Seven plagues?-That there are, quoth my father, with a
most affected gravity. But prithee, continued he, go on with
the rest of thy characters, Trim.]
'Another is sordid, unmerciful,' (here Trim waved his
right hand) 'a strait-hearted, selfish wretch, incapable either
of private friendship or public spirit. Take notice how he
passes by the widow and orphan in their distress, and sees
all the miseries incident to human life without a sigh or a
prayer.' [An' please your honours, cried Trim, I think this
a viler man than the other.]
'Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such occa-
sions?-No; thank God there is no occasion, I pay every
man his own;-I have no fornication to answer to my con-
science;-no faithless vows or promises to make up;-l have
debauched no man's wife or child; thank God ' I am not as
other men, adulterers, unjust, or even as this libertine, who
stands befor me.
'A third is crafty and designing in his nature. View his
whole life;-'tis nothing but a cunning contexture of dark
arts and unequitable subterfuges, basely to defeat the true
intent of all laws,-plain dealing and the safe enjoyment of
our several properties.-You will see such a one working out
a frame of little designs upon the ignorance and perplexities
of the poor and needy man;-shall raise a fortune upon
the inexperience of a youth, or the unsuspecting temper of
his friend, who would have trusted him with his life.
'When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look
back upon this black account, and state it over again with
his conscience-CONSCIENCE looks into the STATUTEs at
LARGE;-finds no express law broken by what he has done;
-perceives no penalty or forfeiture of goods and chattels in-
curred;-sees no scourge waving over his head, or prison
opening his gates upon him: -What is there to affright his
conscience?-Conscience has got safely entrenched be-
hind the Letter of the Law; sits there invulnerable, fortified
with eag;t!o and 3&tprW so strongly on all sides;-that it is
not preaching can dispossess it of its hold.'
[Here Corporal Trim and my uncle Toby exchanged looks
with each other.-Aye-aye, Trim I quoth my uncle Toby,
shaking his head,-these are but sorry fortifications, Trim.
I very poor work, answered Trim, to what your
honour and I make of it.-The character of this last man,
said Dr Slop, interrupting Trim, is more detestable than
all the rest;-and seems to have been taken from some
pettifogging Lawyer amongst you: -Amongst us, a man's
conscience could not possibly continue so long blinded,-
three times in a year, at least, he must go to confession. Win
that restore it to sight? quoth my uncle Toby. o on,
Trim, quoth my father, or Obadiah will have got back before
thou hast got to the end of thy sermon;-'tis a very short
one, replied Trim.-I wish it was longer, quoth my uncle
Toby, for I like it hugely.-Trim went on.]
'A fourth man shall want even this refuge;-shall break
through all this ceremony of slow chicane;-scorns the
doubtful workings of secret plots and cautious trains to bring
about his purpose: -See the barefaced villain, how he
cheats, lies, perjures, robs, murders.-Horrid l-But indeed
much better was not to be expected, in the present casei-
the poor man was in the dark! -his priest had got the keep-
ing of his conscience;-and all he would let him know of it,
was, That he must believe in the Pope;-go to Mass;-cross
himself;-tell his beads;-be a good Catholic, and that this,
in all conscience, was enough to carry him to heaven. What;
-if he perjures I -Why;-he had a mental reservation in it.
-But if he is so wicked and abandoned a wretch as you
represent him;-if he robs,-if he stabs,-will not con-
science, on every such act, receive a wound itself? Aye,-but
the man has carried it to confession;-the wound digests
there, and will do well enough, and in a short time be quite
healed up by absolution. 0 Popery ! what hast thou to
answer for?-when, not content with the too many natural
and fatal ways, through which the heart of man is every day
thus treacherous to itself above all things;-thou hast wil-
fully set open the wide gate of deceit before the face of this
unwary traveller, too apt, God knows, to go astray of him-
self; and confidently speak peace to himself, when there is no
peace.
'Of this the common instances which I have drawn out of
life, are too notorious to require much evidence. If any man
doubts the reality of them, or thinks it impossible for a man
to be such a bubble to himself,-I must refer him a moment
to his own reflections, and will then venture to trust my
appeal with his own heart.
'Let him consider in how different a degree of detestation,
numbers of wicked actions stand there, though equally bad
and vicious in their own natures;-he will soon find, that
such of them, as strong inclination and custom have prompt-
ed him to commit, are generally dressed out and painted
with all the false beauties, which, a soft and a flattering
hand can give them;-and that the others, to which he
feels no propensity, appear, at once, naked and deformed,
surrounded with all the true circumstances of folly and
dishonour.
'When David surprised Saul sleeping in the cave, and cut
off the skirt of his robe'-we read his heart smote him for
what he had done: -But in the matter of Uriah, where a
faithful and gallant servant, whom he ought to have loved
and honoured, fell to make way for his lust,-where con-
science had so much greater reason to take the alarm, his
heart smote him not. A whole year had almost passed from
the first commission of that crime, to the time Nathan was
sent to reprove him; and we read not once of the least
sorrow or compunction of heart which he testified, during
all that time, for what he had done.
'Thus conscience, this once able monitor placed on
high as a judge within us, and intended by our maker as a
just and equitable one too,-by an unhappy train of causes
and impediments, takes often such imperfect cognizance of
what passes,-does its office so negligently,-sometimes so
corruptly,-that it is not to be trusted alone; and therefore
we find there is a necessity, an absolute necessity of join-
ing another principle with it to aid, if not govern, its de-
terminations.
'So that if you would form a just judgment of what is of
infinite importance to you not to be misled in,-namely, in
what degree of real merit you stand either as an honest
man, an useful citizen, a faithful subject to your king, or a
good servant to your God, all in religion and morality.
-Look What is written in the law of God?-How
readest thou?-Consult calm reason and the unchangeable
obligations of justice and truth;-what say they?
'Let CONSCIENCE determine the matter upon these re-
ports;-and then if thy heart condemns thee not, which is
the case the Apostle supposes,-the rule will be infallible;
-[Here Dr Slop fell asleep]-thou
wilt have confidence to-
wards God;-that is, have just grounds to believe the
judgment thou hast passed upon thyself, is the judgment
of God; and nothing else but an anticipation of that
righteous sentence which will be pronounced upon thee here-
after by that Being, to whom thou art finally to give an
account of thy actions.
'Blessed is the man, indeed, then, as the author of the
book of Ecclesiasticus expresses it, who is not pricked with
the multitude of his sins: Blessed is the man whose heart
hath not condemned him; whether he be rich, or whether he
be poor, if he have a good heart (a heart thus guided and
informed) he shall at all times rejoice in a cheerful counten-
ance; his mind shall tell him more than seven watch-men
that sit above upon a tower on high.'-[A tower has no
strength, quoth my uncle Toby, unless 'tis flanked.]-'In the
darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than a thousand
casuists, and give the state he lives in a better security for
his behaviour than all the causes and restrictions put
together, which law-makers are forced to multiply: -Forced,
I say, as things stand; human laws not being a matter of
original choice, but of pure necessity, brought in to fence
against the mischievous effects of those consciences which
are no law unto themselves; well intending, by the many
provisions made,-that in all such corrupt and misguided
cases, where principles and the checks of conscience will not
make us upright,-to supply their force, and, by the terrors
of goals and halters, oblige us to it.'
(I see plainly, said my father, that this sermon has been
composed to be preached at the Temple, r at some
Assize.-I like the reasoning,-and am sorry that Dr Slop
has fallen asleep before the time of his conviction;-for it is
now clear, that the Parson, as I thought at first, never in-
sulted St Paul in the least;-nor has there been, brother, the
least difference between them.-A great matter, if they
had differed, replied my uncle Toby,-the best friends in
the world may differ sometimes.-True,-brother Toby,
quoth my father, shaking hands with him,-we'll fill our
pipes, brother, and then Trim shall go on.
Well,-what dost thou think of it? said my father,
speaking to Corporal Trim, as he reached his tobacco-box.
I think, answered the corporal, that the seven watch-men
upon the tower, who, I suppose, are all sentinels there,-are
more, an' please your honour, than were necessary;-and,
to go on at that rate, would harrass a regiment all to pieces,
which a commanding officer, who loves his men, will never
do, if he can help it; because two sentinels, added the cor-
poral, are as good as twenty.-I have been a commanding
officer myself in the Corps de Garde a hundred times, con-
tinued Trim, rising an inch higher in his figure, as he spoke,
-and all the time I had the honour to serve his Majesty
King William, in relieving the most considerable posts, I
never left more than two in my life.-Very right, Trim,
quoth my uncle Toby-but you do not consider, Trim, that
the towers, in Solomon's days, were not such things as our
bastions, flanked and defended by other works;-this, Trim,
was an invention since Solomon's death; nor had they horn-
works, or ravelins before the curtin, in his time; or such
a fossè as we make with a cuvette in the middle of it, and
with covered ways and counterscarps pallisadoed along it,
to guard against a Coup de main: -So that the seven men
upon the tower were a party, I dare say, from the Corps de
Garde, set there, not only to look out, but to defend it.-
They could be no more, an' please you honour, than a
Corporal's Guard.-My father smiled inwardly but not
outwardly;-the subject between my uncle Toby and Cor-
poral Trim being rather too serious, considering what had
happened, to make a jest of:-So putting his pipe into his
mouth, which he had just lighted,-he contented himself
with ordering Trim to read on. He read on as follows:]
'To have the fear of God before our eyes, and, in our
mutual dealings with each other, to govern our actions by
the eternal measures of right and wrong:-The first of
these will comprehend the duties of religion;-the second,
those of morality, which are so inseparably connected
together, that you cannot divide these two tables, even in
imagination (though the attempt is often made in practice)
without breaking and mutually destroying them both.
'I said the attempt is often made, and so it is;-there
being nothing more common than to see a man who has
no sense at all of religion,-and indeed has so much
honesty as to pretend to none, who would take it as the
bitterest affront, should you but hint at a suspicion of his
moral character, r imagine he was not conscientiously
just and scrupulous to the uttermost mite.
'When there is some appearance that it is so,-though one
is unwilling even to suspect the appearance of so amiable a
virtue as moral honesty, yet were we to look into the grounds
of it, in the present case, I am persuaded we should find little
reason to envy such a one the honour of his motive.
'Let him declaim as pompously as he chooses upon the
subject, it will be found to rest upon no better foundation
than either his interest, his pride, his ease, or some such little
and changeable passion as will give us but small dependence
upon his actions in matters of great stress.
'I will illustrate this by an example.
'I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually
call in,' [There is no need, cried Dr Slop, (waking) to call in
any physician in this case] 'to be neither of them men of
much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day,
and treat all its sanctions with so much scorn, as to put the
matter past doubt. Well;-notwithstanding this, I put my
fortune into the hands of the one;-and what is dearer still
to me, trust my life to the honest skill of the other.
'Now, let me explain what is my reason for this great con-
fidence.-Why, in the first place, I believe there is no
probability that either of them will employ the power I put
into their hands to my disadvantage;-I consider that
honesty serves the purposes of this life: -I know their
success in the world depends upon the fairness of their
characters.-In a word,-I'm persuaded that they cannot
hurt me, without hurting themselves more.
'But put it otherwise, namely, that interest lay, for once,
on the other side; that a case should happen, wherein the
one, without stain to his reputation, could secrete my for-
tune, and leave me naked in the world;-or that the other
could send me out of it, and enjoy an estate by my death,
without dishonour to himself or his art: -In this case, what
hold have I of either of them?-Religion, the strongest of all
motives, is out of the question:-Interest, the next most
powerful motive in the world, is strongly against me: -
What have I left to cast into the opposite scale to balance
this temptation?-Alas ! I have nothing,-nothing but what
is lighter than a bubble-I must lay at the mercy of
H 0 N 0 U R, or some such capricious principle-Strait security
for two of my most valuable blessings I-my property and
my life.
'As, therefore, we can have no dependence upon morality
without religion;-so, on the other hand, there is nothing
better to be expected from religion without morality; never-
theless, 'tis no prodigy to see a man whose real moral
character stands very low, who yet entertains the highest
notion of himself in the light of, a religious man.
'He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable,-
but even wanting in points of common honesty; yet, in-
asmuch as he talks aloud against the infidelity of the age,
-is zealous for some points of religion goes twice a
day to church, attends the sacraments,-and amuses himself
with a few instrumental parts of religion,-shall cheat his
conscience into a judgment, that, for this, he is a religious
man, and has discharged truly his duty to God: And you
will find that such a man, through force of this delusion,
generally looks down with spiritual pride upon every other
man who has less affectation of piety,-though, perhaps, ten
times more moral honesty than himself.
'This likewise is a sore evil under the sun; and, I believe
there is no one mistaken principle, which, for its time, has
wrought more serious mischiefs.-For a general proof of
this,-examine the history of the Romish church;'-[Well,
what can you make of that? cried Dr Slop]-'see what scenes
of cruelty, murders, rapines, bloodshed,' [,They may thank
their own obstinacy, cried Dr Slop.]
'have all been sanctified
by a religion not strictly governed by morality.
'In how many kingdoms of the world,'-[Here Trim kept
waving his right hand from the sermon to the extent of his
arm, returning it backwards and forwards to the conclusion
of the paragraph.]
'In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading
sword of this misguided saint-errant spared neither age,
or merit, or sex, or condition?-and, as he fought under
the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice
and humanity, he shewed none; mercilessly trampled upon
both,-heard neither the cries of the unfortunate, nor pitied
their distresses.'
[I have been in many a battle, an' please your honour,
quoth Trim, sighing, but never in so melancholy a one as
this,-l would not have drawn a tricker in it, against these
poor souls to have been made a general officer.-
Why? what do you understand of the affair? said Dr Slop,
looking towards Trim with something more of contempt
than the corporal's honest heart deserved.-What do you
know, friend, about this battle you talk of ?-l know, replied
Trim, that I never refused quarter in my life to any man
who cried out for it;-but to a woman or a child, continued
Trim, before I would level my musket at them, I would
lose my life a thousand times.-Here's a crown for thee,
Trim, to drink with Obadiah to-night, quoth my uncle Toby,
and I'll give Obadiah another too.-God bless your honour,
replied Trim-I had rather these poor women and children
had it.-Thou art an honest fellow, quoth my uncle Toby.
-My father nodded his head,-as much as to say,-Md
so he is.-
But prithee, Trim, said my father, make an end,-for I
r,see thou hast but a leaf or two left.]
Corporal Trim read on.
'If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not
sufficient,-consider at this instant, how the votaries of that
religion are every day thinking to do service and honour
to God, by actions which are a dishonour -and scandal to
themselves.
'To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into
the prisons of the Inquisition.'-[God help my poor brother
Tom]-'Behold Religion, with Mercy and justice chained
down under her feet,-there sitting ghastly upon a black
tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of tor-
ment. Hark! -hark I what a piteous groan l' [Here Trim's
face turned as pale as ashes.] 'See the melancholy wretch
who uttered it,'-[Here the tears began to trickle down]
'just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial,
and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty
has been able to invent.'-[D-n them all, quoth Trim, his
colour returning into his face as red as blood.]-'Behold this
helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors,-his body so
wasted with sorrow and confinement.'-[Oh! 'tis my
brother, cried poor Trim in a most passionate exclamation,
dropping the sermon upon the ground, and clapping his
hands together-I fear 'tis poor Tom. My father's and my
uncle Toby's heart yearned with sympathy for the poor
fellow's distress, -even Slop
himself acknowledged pity for
him.-Why, Trim, said my father, this is not a history,
tis a sermon thou art reading;-prithee begin the sen-
tence again.]-'Behold this helpless victim delivered up
to his tormentors,-his body so wasted with sorrow and
confinement, you will see every nerve and muscle as it suffers.
'Observe the last movement of that horrid engine!' [I
would rather face a cannon, quoth Trim, stamping.]-'See
what convulsions it has thrown him into I -Consider the
nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched-what
exquisite tortures he endures by it!'-[l hope 'tis not in
Portugal.]-"Tis all nature can bear! Good Cod! see how
it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips!'
[I would not read another fine of it, quoth Trim, for all this
world;-I fear, an' please your honours, all this is in Portu-
gal, where my poor brother Tom is. I tell thee, Trim, again,
quoth my father, 'tis not an historical account,-'tis a des-
cription.-'Tis only a description, honest man, quoth
Slop,
there's not a word of truth in it.-That's another story,
replied my father.-However, as Trim reads it with so much
concern,-'tis cruelty to force him to go on with it.-Give
me hold of the sermon, Trim,-I'll finish it for thee, and
thou may'st go. I must stay and hear it too, replied Trim, if
your honour will allow me;-though I would not read it
myself for a colonel's pay. Poor Trim I quoth my uncle
Toby. My father went on.]
consider the nature of the posture in which he now
lies stretched,-what exquisite torture he endures by it!-
'Tis all nature can bear Good God I See how it keeps
his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips,-willing to
take its leave,-but not suffered to depart!-Behold the
unhappy wretch led back to his cell!' [Then, thank God,
however, quoth Trim, they have not killed him]-'See him
dragged out of it again to meet the flames, and the insults
in his last agonies, which this principle,-this principle, that
there can be religion without mercy, has prepared for him.'
(Then, thank God,-he is dead, quoth Trim,-he is out of
his pain,-and they have done their worst at him.-O Sirs I
-Hold your peace, Trim, said my father, going on with the
sermon, lest Trim should incense
Dr Slop,-we shall never
have done at this rate.]
'The surest way to try the merit of any disputed notion
is, to trace down the consequences such a notion has pro-
duced, and compare them with the spirit of Christianity;-
'tis the short and decisive rule which our Saviour hath left
us, for these and such like cases, and it is worth a thousand
arguments,-By their fruits ye shall know them.
'I will add no further to the length of this sermon, than
by two or three short and independent rules deducible from
it.
'First, Whenever a man talks loudly against religion
always suspect that it is not his reason, but his passions,
which have got the better of his CREED. A bad life and a
and belief are disagreeable and troublesome neighbours,
and where they separate, depend upon it, 'tis for no other
cause but quietness sake.
'Secondly, When a man, thus represented, tells you in any
particular instance,-That such a thing goes against his
conscience always believe he means exactly the same
thing, as when he tells you such a thing goes against his
stomach;-a present want of appetite being generally the
true cause of both.
'In a word-trust that man in nothing, who has not a
CONSCIENCE in every thing.
'And, in your own case, remember this plain distinction,
a mistake in which has ruined thousands,-that your con-
science is not a law: -No, God and reason made the law,
and have placed conscience within you to determine;-not
like an Asiatic Cadi, according to the ebbs and flows of his
own passions,-but like a British judge in this land of
liberty and good sense, who makes no new law, but faith-
fully declares that law which he knows already written.'
FINIS.
Thou has read the sermon extremely well, Trim, quoth
my father.-If he had spared his comments, replied Dr
Slop he would have read it
much better. I should have
read it ten times better, Sir, answered Trim, but that my
heart was so full.-That was the very reason, Trim, replied
my father, which has made thee read the sermon as well
as thou hast done; and if the clergy of our church, con-
tinued my father, addressing
himself to Dr Slop, would
take part in what they deliver, as deeply as this poor fellow
has done, as their compositions are fine; q deny it, quoth
Dr Slop)- maintain it, that the
eloquence of our pulpits,
with such subjects to inflame it would be a model for
the whole world: -But alas I continued my father, and I
own it, Sir, with sorrow, that, like French politicians in this
respect, what they gain in the cabinet they lose in the field.
-'Twere a pity, quoth my uncle, that this should be lost.
I like the sermon well, replied my father-'tis dramatic,
-and there is something in that way of writing, when skil-
fully managed, which catches the attention.-We preach
much in that way with us, said Dr Slop.-I know that very
well, said my father but in a tone and manner which
disgusted Dr Slop, full as much as
his assent, simply, could
have pleased him.-But in this, added Dr Slop, a little
piqued,-our sermons have greatly the advantage, that we
never introduce any character into them below a patriarch
or a patriarch's wife, or a martyr or a saint.-There are
some very bad characters in this, however, said my father,
and I do not think the sermon a jot the worse for 'em.
But pray, quoth my uncle Toby,
who's can this be?-
How could it get into my Stevinus? A man must be as great
a conjurer as Stevinus, said my father, to resolve the second
question: -The first, I think, is not so difficult;-for unless
my judgment greatly deceives me,-l know the author, for
.-tis wrote, certainly, by the parson of the parish.
The similitude of the stile and manner of it, with those
my father constantly had heard preached in his parish-
church, was the ground of his conjecture,-proving it as
strongly, as an argument a priori could prove such a thing
to a philosophic mind, That it was Yorick's and no one's
else:-It was proved to be so a posteriori, the day after,
when Yorick sent a servant to my
uncle Toby's house to
enquire after it.
It seems that Yorick, who was
inquisitive after all kinds
of knowledge, had borrowed Stevinus of my uncle Toby,
and had carelessly popped his sermon, as soon as he had
made it, into the middle of Stevinus; and by an act of for-
getfulness, to which he was ever subject, he had sent
Stevinus home, and his sermon to keep him company.
Ill-fated sermon ! Thou wast lost, after this recovery of
thee, a second time, dropped through an unsuspected fissure
in thy master's pocket, down into a treacherous and a tat-
tered lining,-trod deep into the dirt by the left hind foot
of his Rosinante, inhumanly stepping upon thee as thou
falledst;-buried ten days -in the mire,-raised up out of it
by a beggar, sold for a halfpenny to a parish-clerk,-trans-
ferred to his parson,-lost for ever to thy own, the remainder
of his days,-nor restored to his restless MANEs till this
very moment, that I tell the world the story.
Can the reader believe, that this sermon of Yorick's was
preached at an assize, in the cathedral of York, before a
thousand witnesses, ready to give oath of it, by a certain
prebendary of that church, and actually printed by him
when he had done,-and within so short a space as two
years and three months after Yorick's
death?-Yorick in-
deed was never better served in his life! but it was a
little hard to maltreat him after, and plunder him after he
was laid in his grave.
However, as the gentleman who did it, was in perfect
charity with Yorick,-and, in
conscious justice, printed but
a few copies to give away;-and that I am told, he could
moreover have made as good a one himself, had he thought
fit,-I declare I would not have published this anecdote to
the world;-nor do I publish it with an intent to hurt his
character and advancement in the church;-l leave that to
others;-but I find myself impelled by two reasons, which
I cannot withstand.
The first is, That in doing justice, I may give rest to
Yorick's ghost;-which, as the
country people,-and some
others, believe,-still walks.
The second reason is, That, by laying open this story to
the world, I gain an opportunity of informing it,-That in
case the character of parson Yorick,
and this sample of his
sermons, is liked,-that there are now in the possession
of the Shandy family, as many as will make a handsome
volume, at the world's service,-and much good may
they do it.