IT is a singular blessing, that nature has form’d the mind of man with
the same happy backwardness and renitency against conviction, which is
observed in old dogs—“of not learning new tricks.”
What a shuttlecock of a fellow would the greatest philosopher that ever
existed be whisk’d into at once, did he read such books, and observe
such facts, and think such thoughts, as would eternally be making him
change sides!
Now, my father, as I told you last year, detested all this—He pick’d up
an opinion, Sir, as a man in a state of nature picks up an apple.—It
becomes his own—and if he is a man of spirit, he would lose his life
rather than give it up.
I am aware that _Didius_, the great civilian, will contest this point;
and cry out against me, Whence comes this man’s right to this apple?
_ex confesso_, he will say—things were in a state of nature—The apple,
is as much _Frank_’s apple as _John_’s. Pray, Mr. _Shandy_, what patent
has he to shew for it? and how did it begin to be his? was it, when he
set his heart upon it? or when he gathered it? or when he chew’d it? or
when he roasted it? or when he peel’d, or when he brought it home? or
when he digested?——or when he——?——For ’tis plain, Sir, if the first
picking up of the apple, made it not his—that no subsequent act could.
Brother _Didius_, _Tribonius_ will answer—(now _Tribonius_ the civilian
and church lawyer’s beard being three inches and a half and three
eighths longer than _Didius_ his beard—I’m glad he takes up the cudgels
for me, so I give myself no farther trouble about the answer.)—Brother
_Didius, Tribonius_ will say, it is a decreed case, as you may find it
in the fragments of _Gregorius_ and _Hermogines_’s codes, and in all
the codes from _Justinian_’s down to the codes of _Louis_ and _Des
Eaux_—That the sweat of a man’s brows, and the exsudations of a man’s
brains, are as much a man’s own property as the breeches upon his
backside;—which said exsudations, &c. being dropp’d upon the said apple
by the labour of finding it, and picking it up; and being moreover
indissolubly wasted, and as indissolubly annex’d, by the picker up, to
the thing pick’d up, carried home, roasted, peel’d, eaten, digested,
and so on;——’tis evident that the gatherer of the apple, in so doing,
has mix’d up something which was his own, with the apple which was not
his own, by which means he has acquired a property;—or, in other words,
the apple is _John_’s apple.
By the same learned chain of reasoning my father stood up for all his
opinions; he had spared no pains in picking them up, and the more they
lay out of the common way, the better still was his title.——No mortal
claimed them; they had cost him moreover as much labour in cooking and
digesting as in the case above, so that they might well and truly be
said to be of his own goods and chattels.—Accordingly he held fast by
’em, both by teeth and claws—would fly to whatever he could lay his
hands on—and, in a word, would intrench and fortify them round with as
many circumvallations and breast-works, as my uncle _Toby_ would a
citadel.
There was one plaguy rub in the way of this——the scarcity of materials
to make any thing of a defence with, in case of a smart attack;
inasmuch as few men of great genius had exercised their parts in
writing books upon the subject of great noses: by the trotting of my
lean horse, the thing is incredible! and I am quite lost in my
understanding, when I am considering what a treasure of precious time
and talents together has been wasted upon worse subjects—and how many
millions of books in all languages and in all possible types and
bindings, have been fabricated upon points not half so much tending to
the unity and peace-making of the world. What was to be had, however,
he set the greater store by; and though my father would oft-times sport
with my uncle _Toby_’s library—which, by-the-bye, was ridiculous
enough—yet at the very same time he did it, he collected every book and
treatise which had been systematically wrote upon noses, with as much
care as my honest uncle _Toby_ had done those upon military
architecture.——’Tis true, a much less table would have held them—but
that was not thy transgression, my dear uncle.——
Here——but why here——rather than in any other part of my story——I am not
able to tell:——but here it is——my heart stops me to pay to thee, my
dear uncle _Toby_, once for all, the tribute I owe thy goodness.—Here
let me thrust my chair aside, and kneel down upon the ground, whilst I
am pouring forth the warmest sentiment of love for thee, and veneration
for the excellency of thy character, that ever virtue and nature
kindled in a nephew’s bosom.——Peace and comfort rest for evermore upon
thy head!—Thou enviedst no man’s comforts——insultedst no man’s
opinions——Thou blackenedst no man’s character—devouredst no man’s
bread: gently, with faithful _Trim_ behind thee, didst thou amble round
the little circle of thy pleasures, jostling no creature in thy
way:—for each one’s sorrows, thou hadst a tear,—for each man’s need,
thou hadst a shilling.
Whilst I am worth one, to pay a weeder—thy path from thy door to thy
bowling-green shall never be grown up.——Whilst there is a rood and a
half of land in the _Shandy_ family, thy fortifications, my dear uncle
_Toby_, shall never be demolish’d.