ll come to the same thing:--So that with a less
variation from my father's plan, than my father's from the Gothick--I
feel myself upon a par with him in his first bed of justice,--and no
way inferior to him in his second.--These different and almost
irreconcileable effects, flow uniformly from the wise and wonderful
mechanism of nature,--of which,--be her's the honour.--All that we
can do, is to turn and work the machine to the improvement and better
manufactory of the arts and sciences.--

Now, when I write full,--I write as if I was never to write fasting
again as long as I live;--that is, I write free from the cares as well
as the terrors of the world.--I count not the number of my scars,--nor
does my fancy go forth into dark entries and bye-corners to ante-date my
stabs.--In a word, my pen takes its course; and I write on as much from
the fulness of my heart, as my stomach.--

But when, an' please your honours, I indite fasting, 'tis a different
history.--I pay the world all possible attention and respect,--and have
as great a share (whilst it lasts) of that under strapping virtue of
discretion as the best of you.--So that betwixt both, I write a careless
kind of a civil, nonsensical, good-humoured Shandean book, which will do
all your hearts good--

--And all your heads too,--provided you understand it.

Chapter 3.LXI.

We should begin, said my father, turning himself half round in bed,
and shifting his pillow a little towards my mother's, as he opened the
debate--We should begin to think, Mrs. Shandy, of putting this boy into
breeches.--

We should so,--said my mother.--We defer it, my dear, quoth my father,
shamefully.--

I think we do, Mr. Shandy,--said my mother.

--Not but the child looks extremely well, said my father, in his vests
and tunicks.--

--He does look very well in them,--replied my mother.--

--And for that reason it would be almost a sin, added my father, to take
him out of 'em.--

--It would so,--said my mother:--But indeed he is growing a very tall
lad,--rejoined my father.

--He is very tall for his age, indeed,--said my mother.--

--I can not (making two syllables of it) imagine, quoth my father, who
the deuce he takes after.--

I cannot conceive, for my life, said my mother.--

Humph!--said my father.

(The dialogue ceased for a moment.)

--I am very short myself,--continued my father gravely.

You are very short, Mr. Shandy,--said my mother.

Humph! quoth my fat