[ 40 ]

in all these cases, a passage was generally
left, not indeed as wide as the Dardanells,
but wide enough, for all that, to carry
on as much of this windward trade, as
was sufficient to save my father the trou-
ble of governing his house ; -- my mother
at this moment stands profiting by it. --
Obadiah did the same thing, as soon as
he had left the letter upon the table which
brought the news of my brother's death;
so that before my father had well got
over his surprize, and entered upon his
harangue, -- had Trim got upon his legs,
to speak his sentiments upon the subject.

  A curious observer of nature, had he
been worth the inventory of all Job's
stock -- though, by the bye, your curious
observers are seldom worth a groat
-- would
have given the half of it, to have heard
Corporal Trim and my father, two ora-
tors so contrasted by nature and educa-
tion, haranguing over the same bier.

[ 41 ]

  My father a man of deep reading --
prompt memory -- with Cato, and Seneca,
and Epictetus, at his fingers ends. --

  The corporal -- with nothing -- to re-
member -- of no deeper reading than his
muster-roll -- or greater names at his fin-
ger's end, than the contents of it.

  The one proceeding from period to
period, by metaphor and allusion, and
striking the fancy as he went along, (as
men of wit and fancy do) with the enter-
tainment and pleasantry of his pictures
and images.

  The other, without wit or antithesis,
or point, or turn, this way or that ; but
leaving the images on one side, and the
pictures on the other, going strait for-
wards as nature could lead him, to the
heart. O Trim ! would to heaven thou
had'st a better historian ! -- would ! -- thy
historian had a better pair of breeches !
                          ---- O

[ 42 ]

  ---- O ye criticks! will nothing melt
you ?


  ------ My young master in London is
dead ! said Obadiah. --

  -- A green sattin night-gown of my
mother's, which had been twice scoured,
was the first idea which Obadiah's excla-
mation brought into Susannah's head. --
Well might Locke write a chapter upon the
imperfections of words. -- Then, quoth
Susannah, we must all go into mourning.
-- But note a second time : the word
mourning, notwithstanding Susannah made
use of it herself -- failed also of doing its
office ; it excited not one single idea,
tinged either with grey or black, -- all
was green. ---- The green sattin night-
gown hung there still.

  -- O ! 'twill be the death of my poor
mistress, cried Susannah. -- My mother's

[ 43 ]

whole wardrobe followed. -- What a pro-
cession ! her red damask, -- her orange-
tawny, -- her white and yellow lutestrings,
-- her brown taffeta, -- her bone-laced
caps, her bed-gowns, and comfortable
under-petticoats. -- Not a rag was left be-
hind. -- `` No, -- she will never look up
said Susannah.

  We had a fat foolish scullion -- my fa-
ther, I think, kept her for her simplicity ;
-- she had been all autumn struggling
with a dropsy. -- He is dead ! said Oba-
, -- he is certainly dead ! -- So am not
I, said the foolish scullion.

  ---- Here is sad news, Trim ! cried
Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim step'd
into the kitchen, -- Master Bobby is dead
and buried, -- the funeral was an interpo-
lation of Susannah's, -- we shall have all
to go into mourning, said Susannah.

             6              I hope

[ 44 ]

  I hope not, said Trim. -- You hope not !
cried Susannah earnestly. -- The mourning
ran not in Trim's head, whatever it did in
Susannah's. -- I hope -- said Trim, explain-
ing himself, I hope in God the news
is not true. I heard the letter read with
my own ears, answered Obadiah ; and we
shall have a terrible piece of work of it
in stubbing the ox-moor. -- Oh ! he's
dead, said Susannah. -- As sure, said the
scullion, as I am alive.

  I lament for him from my heart and
my soul, said Trim, fetching a sigh. --
Poor creature ! -- poor boy ! poor gen-
tleman !

  -- He was alive last Whitsontide, said
the coachman. -- Whitsontide ! alas ! cried
Trim, extending his right arm, and fall-
ing instantly into the same attitude in
which he read the sermon, -- what is
Whitsontide, Jonathan, (for that was the
coachman's name) or Shrovetide, or any

[ 45 ]

tide or time past, to this ? Are we not
here now, continued the corporal, (strik-
ing the end of his stick perpendicularly
upon the floor, so as to give an idea of
health and stability) -- and are we not --
(dropping his hat upon the ground)
gone ! in a moment ! -- 'Twas infinitely
striking ! Susannah burst into a flood of
tears. -- We are not stocks and stones. --
Jonathan, Obadiah, the cook-maid, all
melted. -- The foolish fat scullion herself,
who was scouring a fish-kettle upon her
knees, was rous'd with it. -- The whole
kitchen crouded about the corporal.

  Now as I perceive plainly, that the
preservation of our constitution in church
and state, -- and possibly the preservation
of the whole world -- or what is the same
thing, the distribution and balance of its
property and power, may in time to
come depend greatly upon the right un-
derstanding of this stroke of the corpo-
             5              ral's

[ 46 ]

ral's eloquence -- I do demand your at-
tention, -- your worships and reverences,
for any ten pages together, take them
where you will in any other part of the
work, shall sleep for it at your ease.

  I said, ``we were not stocks and stones''
-- 'tis very well. I should have added,
nor are we angels, I wish we were, -- but
men cloathed with bodies, and governed
by our imaginations ; -- and what a jun-
ketting piece of work of it there is, be-
twixt these and our seven senses, espe-
cially some of them, for my own part, I
own it, I am ashamed to confess. Let
it suffice to affirm, that of all the senses,
the eye, (for I absolutely deny the touch,
though most of your Barbati, I know,
are for it) has the quickest commerce
with the soul, -- gives a smarter stroke,
and leaves something more inexpressible
upon the fancy, than words can either
convey -- or sometimes get rid of.

                          ---- I've

[ 47 ]

  -- I've gone a little about -- no matter,
'tis for health -- let us only carry it back
in our mind to the mortality of Trim's
hat. -- `` Are we not here now, -- and gone
in a moment ?'' -- There was nothing in
the sentence -- 'twas one of your self-evi-
dent truths we have the advantage of
hearing every day ; and if Trim had not
trusted more to his hat than his head --
he had made nothing at all of it.

  ------ `` Are we not here now ;'' --
continued the corporal, `` and are we not''
-- (dropping his hat plumb upon the
ground -- and pausing, before he pro-
nounced the word) --- `` gone ! in a mo-
ment ?'' The descent of the hat was as if
a heavy lump of clay had been kneaded
into the crown of it. ---- Nothing could
have expressed the sentiment of morta-
lity, of which it was the type and fore-
runner, like it, -- his hand seemed to va-
nish from under it, -- it fell dead, -- the
corporal's eye fix'd upon it, as upon a

[ 48 ]

corps, -- and Susannah burst into a flood
of tears.

  Now -- Ten thousand, and ten thou-
sand times ten thousand (for matter and
motion are infinite) are the ways by
which a hat may be dropped upon the
ground, without any effect. ---- Had he
flung it, or thrown it, or cast it, or
skimmed it, or squirted, or let it slip or
fall in any possible direction under hea-
ven, -- or in the best direction that could
be given to it, -- had he dropped it like a
goose -- like a puppy -- like an ass -- or in
doing it, or even after he had done, had
he looked like a fool, -- like a ninny --
like a nicompoop -- it had fail'd, and the
effect upon the heart had been lost.

  Ye who govern this mighty world and
its mighty concerns with the engines of
eloquence, -- who heat it, and cool it, and
melt it, and mollify it, ---- and then har-
den it again to your purpose ----

[ 49 ]

  Ye who wind and turn the passions
with this great windlass, -- and, having
done it, lead the owners of them, whi-
ther ye think meet --

  Ye, lastly, who drive -- -- and why
not, Ye also who are driven, like tur-
keys to market, with a stick and a red
clout -- meditate -- meditate, I beseech
you, upon Trim's hat.


STAY ---- I have a small account to
settle with the reader, before Trim
can go on with his harangue. -- It shall
be done in two minutes.

  Amongst many other book-debts, all
of which I shall discharge in due time, --
I own myself a debtor to the world for
two items, -- a chapter upon chamber-
maids and button holes
, which, in the for-
mer part of my work, I promised and
  VOL. V.        E            fully

[ 50 ]

fully intended to pay off this year : but
some of your worships and reverences
telling me, that the two subjects, especi-
ally so connected together, might endan-
ger the morals of the world, -- I pray
the chapter upon chamber-maids and
button-holes may be forgiven me, -- and
that they will accept of the last chapter
in lieu of it ; which is nothing, an't please
your reverences, but a chapter of cham-
ber-maids, green-gowns, and old hats

  Trim took his off the ground, -- put it
upon his head, -- and then went on with
his oration upon death, in manner and
form following.

C H A P. IX.

  ---- To us, Jonathan, who know not
what want or care is -- who live here in
the service of two of the best of masters
-- (bating in my own case his majesty
King William the Third, whom I had

[ 51 ]

the honour to serve both in Ireland and
Flanders) -- I own it, that from Whitson-
to within three weeks of Christmas, --
'tis not long -- 'tis like nothing ; -- but to
those, Jonathan, who know what death
is, and what havock and destruction he
can make, before a man can well wheel
about -- 'tis like a whole age. -- O Jona-
than !
'twould make a good-natured
man's heart bleed, to consider, continued
the corporal, (standing perpendicularly)
how low many a brave and upright fel-
low has been laid since that time ! -- And
trust me, Susy, added the corporal, turn-
ing to Susannah, whose eyes were swim-
ming in water, -- before that time comes
round again, -- many a bright eye will be
dim. -- Susannah placed it to the right
side of the page -- she wept -- but she
court'sied too. -- Are we not, continued
Trim, looking still at Susannah -- are we
not like a flower of the field -- a tear of
pride stole in betwixt every two tears of
             E 2              hu

[ 52 ]

humiliation -- else no tongue could have
described Susannah's affliction -- is not all
flesh grass ? -- 'Tis clay, -- 'tis dirt. -- They
all looked directly at the scullion, -- the
scullion had just been scouring a fish-
kettle. -- It was not fair. ----

  -- What is the finest face that ever
man looked at ! -- I could hear Trim talk
so for ever, cried Susannah, -- what is it !
( Susannah laid her hand upon Trim's
shoulder) -- but corruption ? ---- Susannah
took it off.

  -- Now I love you for this -- and 'tis
this delicious mixture within you which
makes you dear creatures what you are --
and he who hates you for it ------ all I
can say of the matter, is -- That he has
either a pumkin for his head -- or a pip-
pin for his heart, -- and whenever he is
dissected 'twill be found so.

                          C H A P.

[ 53 ]

C H A P. X.

WHETHER Susannah, by tak-
ing her hand too suddenly from
off the corporal's shoulder, (by the whisk-
ing about of her passions) ---- broke a
little the chain of his reflections ----

  Or whether the corporal began to be
suspicious, he had got into the doctor's
quarters, and was talking more like the
chaplain than himself ------

  Or whether  -  -  -  -  -  -  -
Or whether ---- for in all such cases a
man of invention and parts may with
pleasure fill a couple of pages with sup-
positions ---- which of all these was the
cause, let the curious physiologist, or
the curious any body determine ---- 'tis
certain, at least, the corporal went on
thus with his harangue.

             E 3              For

[ 54 ]

  For my own part, I declare it, that out
of doors, I value not death at all : -- not
this .. added the corporal, snapping his
fingers, -- but with an air which no one
but the corporal could have given to the
sentiment. -- In battle, I value death not
this . . . and let him not take me cow-
ardly, like poor Joe Gibbins, in scouring
his gun. -- What is he ? A pull of a trig-
ger -- a push of a bayonet an inch this
way or that -- makes the difference. --
Look along the line -- to the right -- see !
Jack's down ! well, -- 'tis worth a regi-
ment of horse to him. -- No -- 'tis Dick.
Then Jack's no worse. -- Never mind
which, -- we pass on, -- in hot pursuit the
wound itself which brings him is not felt,
-- the best way is to stand up to him, --
the man who flies, is in ten times more
danger than the man who marches up
into his jaws. -- I've look'd him, added
the corporal, an hundred times in the
face, -- and know what he is. -- He's no-

[ 55 ]

thing, Obadiah, at all in the field. -- But
he's very frightful in a house, quoth Oba-
. ---- I never mind it myself, said
Jonathan, upon a coach-box. -- It must,
in my opinion, be most natural in bed,
replied Susannah. -- And could I escape
him by creeping into the worst calf's
skin that ever was made into a knapsack,
I would do it there -- said Trim -- but that
is nature.

  ---- Nature is nature, said Jonathan. --
And that is the reason, cried Susannah, I
so much pity my mistress. -- She will ne-
ver get the better of it. -- Now I pity the
captain the most of any one in the fami-
ly, answered Trim. ---- Madam will get
ease of heart in weeping, -- and the Squire
in talking about it, -- but my poor master
will keep it all in silence to himself. -- I
shall hear him sigh in his bed for a whole
month together, as he did for lieutenant
Le Fever. An' please your Honour, do
not sigh so piteously, I would say to him
             E 4              as

[ 56 ]

as I laid besides him. I cannot help it,
Trim, my master would say, ---- 'tis so
melancholy an accident -- I cannot get
it off my heart. -- Your honour fears not
death yourself. -- I hope, Trim, I fear no-
thing, he would say, but the doing a
wrong thing. ---- Well, he would add,
whatever betides, I will take care of Le
's boy. -- And with that, like a
quieting draught, his honour would fall

  I like to hear Trim's stories about the
captain, said Susannah. -- He is a kindly-
hearted gentleman, said Obadiah, as ever
lived. -- Aye, -- and as brave a one too,
said the corporal, as ever stept before a
platoon. -- There never was a better offi-
cer in the king's army, -- or a better man
in God's world ; for he would march up
to the mouth of a cannon, though he saw
the lighted match at the very touch-hole,
-- and yet, for all that, he has a heart as

[ 57 ]

soft as a child for other people. ---- He
would not hurt a chicken. ---- I would
sooner, quoth Jonathan, drive such a
gentleman for seven pounds a year -- than
some for eight. -- Thank thee, Jonathan !
for thy twenty shillings, -- as much, Jo-
, said the corporal, shaking him by
the hand, as if thou hadst put the money
into my own pocket. ---- I would serve
him to the day of my death out of love.
He is a friend and a brother to me, --
and could I be sure my poor brother Tom
was dead, -- continued the corporal, tak-
ing out his handkerchief, -- was I worth
ten thousand pounds, I would leave every
shilling of it to the captain. ---- Trim
could not refrain from tears at this testa-
mentary proof he gave of his affection to
his master. ---- The whole kitchen was
affected. ---- Do tell us this story of the
poor lieutenant, said Susannah. ---- With
all my heart, answered the corporal.


[ 58 ]

  Susannah, the cook, Jonathan, Oba-
, and corporal Trim, formed a cir-
cle about the fire ; and as soon as the
scullion had shut the kitchen door, -- the
corporal begun.

C H A P. XI.

I Am a Turk if I had not as much for-
got my mother, as if Nature had
plaistered me up, and set me down
naked upon the banks of the river Nile,
without one. ---- Your most obedient
servant, Madam -- I've cost you a great
deal of trouble, -- I wish it may answer ;
-- but you have left a crack in my back,
-- and here's a great piece fallen off here
before, -- and what must I do with this
foot ? ---- I shall never reach England
with it.

[ 59 ]

  For my own part I never wonder at
any thing ; -- and so often has my judg-
ment deceived me in my life, that I al-
ways suspect it, right or wrong, -- at
least I am seldom hot upon cold subjects.
For all this, I reverence truth as much
as any body ; and when it has slipped
us, if a man will but take me by the
hand, and go quietly and search for it,
as for a thing we have both lost, and
can neither of us do well without, -- I'll
go to the world's end with him : ---- But
I hate disputes, -- and therefore (bating
religious points, or such as touch society)
I would almost subscribe to any thing
which does not choak me in the first
passage, rather than be drawn into one
---- But I cannot bear suffocation, ----
and bad smells worst of all. ---- For
which reasons, I resolved from the be-
             2              ginning,