IT was not till my uncle _Toby_ had knocked the ashes out of his third
pipe, that corporal _Trim_ returned from the inn, and gave him the
following account.
I despaired, at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back
your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick
lieutenant—Is he in the army, then? said my uncle _Toby_——He is, said
the corporal——And in what regiment? said my uncle _Toby_——I’ll tell
your honour, replied the corporal, every thing straight forwards, as I
learnt it.—Then, _Trim_, I’ll fill another pipe, said my uncle _Toby_,
and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thy ease,
_Trim_, in the window-seat, and begin thy story again. The corporal
made his old bow, which generally spoke as plain as a bow could speak
it—_Your honour is good:_—And having done that, he sat down, as he was
ordered,—and begun the story to my uncle _Toby_ over again in pretty
near the same words.
I despaired at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back
any intelligence to your honour, about the lieutenant and his son; for
when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of
knowing every thing which was proper to be asked,—That’s a right
distinction, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_—I was answered, an’ please
your honour, that he had no servant with him;——that he had come to the
inn with hired horses, which, upon finding himself unable to proceed
(to join, I suppose, the regiment), he had dismissed the morning after
he came.—If I get better, my dear, said he, as he gave his purse to his
son to pay the man,—we can hire horses from hence.——But alas! the poor
gentleman will never get from hence, said the landlady to me,—for I
heard the death-watch all night long;——and when he dies, the youth, his
son, will certainly die with him; for he is broken- hearted already.
I was hearing this account, continued the corporal, when the youth came
into the kitchen, to order the thin toast the landlord spoke of;——but I
will do it for my father myself, said the youth.——Pray let my save you
the trouble, young gentleman, said I, taking up a fork for the purpose,
and offering him my chair to sit down upon by the fire, whilst I did
it.——I believe, Sir, said he, very modestly, I can please him best
myself.——I am sure, said I, his honour will not like the toast the
worse for being toasted by an old soldier.——The youth took hold of my
hand, and instantly burst into tears.——Poor youth! said my uncle
_Toby_,—he has been bred up from an infant in the army, and the name of
a soldier, _Trim_, sounded in his ears like the name of a friend;—I
wish I had him here.
——I never, in the longest march, said the corporal, had so great a mind
to my dinner, as I had to cry with him for company:—What could be the
matter with me, an’ please your honour? Nothing in the world, _Trim_,
said my uncle _Toby_, blowing his nose,—but that thou art a
good-natured fellow.
When I gave him the toast, continued the corporal, I thought it was
proper to tell him I was captain _Shandy_’s servant, and that your
honour (though a stranger) was extremely concerned for his father;—and
that if there was any thing in your house or cellar——(And thou might’st
have added my purse too, said my uncle _Toby_),——he was heartily
welcome to it:——He made a very low bow (which was meant to your
honour), but no answer—for his heart was full—so he went up stairs with
the toast;—I warrant you, my dear, said I, as I opened the
kitchen-door, your father will be well again.——Mr. _Yorick_’s curate
was smoking a pipe by the kitchen fire,—but said not a word good or bad
to comfort the youth.——I thought it wrong; added the corporal——I think
so too, said my uncle _Toby._
When the lieutenant had taken his glass of sack and toast, he felt
himself a little revived, and sent down into the kitchen, to let me
know, that in about ten minutes he should be glad if I would step up
stairs.——I believe, said the landlord, he is going to say his
prayers,——for there was a book laid upon the chair by his bed-side, and
as I shut the door, I saw his son take up a cushion.——
I thought, said the curate, that you gentlemen of the army, Mr. _Trim_,
never said your prayers at all.——I heard the poor gentleman say his
prayers last night, said the landlady, very devoutly, and with my own
ears, or I could not have believed it.——Are you sure of it? replied the
curate.——A soldier, an’ please your reverence, said I, prays as often
(of his own accord) as a parson;——and when he is fighting for his king,
and for his own life, and for his honour too, he has the most reason to
pray to God of any one in the whole world——’Twas well said of thee,
_Trim_, said my uncle _Toby._——But when a soldier, said I, an’ please
your reverence, has been standing for twelve hours together in the
trenches, up to his knees in cold water,—or engaged, said I, for months
together in long and dangerous marches;—harassed, perhaps, in his rear
to-day;—harassing others to-morrow;—detached here;—countermanded
there;—resting this night out upon his arms;—beat up in his shirt the
next;—benumbed in his joints;—perhaps without straw in his tent to
kneel on;—must say his prayers _how_ and _when_ he can.—I believe, said
I,—for I was piqued, quoth the corporal, for the reputation of the
army,—I believe, an’ please your reverence, said I, that when a soldier
gets time to pray,—he prays as heartily as a parson,—though not with
all his fuss and hypocrisy.——Thou shouldst not have said that, _Trim_,
said my uncle _Toby_,—for God only knows who is a hypocrite, and who is
not:——At the great and general review of us all, corporal, at the day
of judgment (and not till then)—it will be seen who has done their
duties in this world,—and who has not; and we shall be advanced,
_Trim_, accordingly.——I hope we shall, said _Trim._——It is in the
Scripture, said my uncle _Toby;_ and I will shew it thee to-morrow:—In
the mean time we may depend upon it, _Trim_, for our comfort, said my
uncle _Toby_, that God Almighty is so good and just a governor of the
world, that if we have but done our duties in it,—it will never be
enquired into, whether we have done them in a red coat or a black
one:——I hope not, said the corporal——But go on, _Trim_, said my uncle
_Toby_, with thy story.
When I went up, continued the corporal, into the lieutenant’s room,
which I did not do till the expiration of the ten minutes,—he was lying
in his bed with his head raised upon his hand, with his elbow upon the
pillow, and a clean white cambrick handkerchief beside it:——The youth
was just stooping down to take up the cushion, upon which I supposed he
had been kneeling,—the book was laid upon the bed,—and, as he rose, in
taking up the cushion with one hand, he reached out his other to take
it away at the same time.——Let it remain there, my dear, said the
lieutenant.
He did not offer to speak to me, till I had walked up close to his bed-
side:—If you are captain _Shandy_’s servant, said he, you must present
my thanks to your master, with my little boy’s thanks along with them,
for his courtesy to me;—if he was of _Levens_’s—said the lieutenant.—I
told him your honour was—Then, said he, I served three campaigns with
him in _Flanders_, and remember him,—but ’tis most likely, as I had not
the honour of any acquaintance with him, that he knows nothing of
me.——You will tell him, however, that the person his good-nature has
laid under obligations to him, is one _Le Fever_, a lieutenant in
_Angus_’s——but he knows me not,—said he, a second time,
musing;——possibly he may my story—added he—pray tell the captain, I was
the ensign at _Breda_, whose wife was most unfortunately killed with a
musket-shot, as she lay in my arms in my tent.——I remember the story,
an’t please your honour, said I, very well.——Do you so? said he, wiping
his eyes with his handkerchief—then well may I.—In saying this, he drew
a little ring out of his bosom, which seemed tied with a black ribband
about his neck, and kiss’d it twice——Here, _Billy_, said he,—the boy
flew across the room to the bed-side,—and falling down upon his knee,
took the ring in his hand, and kissed it too,—then kissed his father,
and sat down upon the bed and wept.
I wish, said my uncle _Toby_, with a deep sigh,—I wish, _Trim_, I was
asleep.
Your honour, replied the corporal, is too much concerned;—shall I pour
your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe?——Do, _Trim_, said my
uncle _Toby._
I remember, said my uncle _Toby_, sighing again, the story of the
ensign and his wife, with a circumstance his modesty omitted;—and
particularly well that he, as well as she, upon some account or other
(I forget what) was universally pitied by the whole regiment;—but
finish the story thou art upon:—’Tis finished already, said the
corporal,—for I could stay no longer,—so wished his honour a good
night; young _Le Fever_ rose from off the bed, and saw me to the bottom
of the stairs; and as we went down together, told me, they had come
from _Ireland_, and were on their route to join the regiment in
_Flanders._——But alas! said the corporal,—the lieutenant’s last day’s
march is over.—Then what is to become of his poor boy? cried my uncle
_Toby._