Does not all the world know, said the curate _d’Estella_ at the conclusion of his work, that Noses ran the same fate some centuries ago in most parts of _Europe_, which Whiskers have now done in the kingdom of _Navarre?_—The evil indeed spread no farther then—but have not beds and bolsters, and night-caps and chamber-pots stood upon the brink of destruction ever since? Are not trouse, and placket-holes, and pump-handles—and spigots and faucets, in danger still from the same association?—Chastity, by nature, the gentlest of all affections—give it but its head——’tis like a ramping and a roaring lion. The drift of the curate _d’Estella_’s argument was not understood.—They ran the scent the wrong way.—The world bridled his ass at the tail.—And when the _extremes_ of DELICACY, and the _beginnings_ of CONCUPISCENCE, hold their next provincial chapter together, they may decree that bawdy also. C H A P. II WHEN my father received the letter which brought him the melancholy account of my brother _Bobby_’s death, he was busy calculating the expence of his riding post from _Calais_ to _Paris_, and so on to _Lyons._ ’Twas a most inauspicious journey; my father having had every foot of it to travel over again, and his calculation to begin afresh, when he had almost got to the end of it, by _Obadiah_’s opening the door to acquaint him the family was out of yeast—and to ask whether he might not take the great coach-horse early in the morning and ride in search of some.—With all my heart, _Obadiah_, said my father (pursuing his journey)—take the coach-horse, and welcome.——But he wants a shoe, poor creature! said _Obadiah._——Poor creature! said my uncle _Toby_, vibrating the note back again, like a string in unison. Then ride the _Scotch_ horse, quoth my father hastily.—He cannot bear a saddle upon his back, quoth _Obadiah_, for the whole world.——The devil’s in that horse; then take PATRIOT, cried my father, and shut the door.——PATRIOT is sold, said _Obadiah._ Here’s for you! cried my father, making a pause, and looking in my uncle _Toby_’s face, as if the thing had not been a matter of fact.—Your worship ordered me to sell him last _April_, said _Obadiah._—Then go on foot for your pains, cried my father——I had much rather walk than ride, said _Obadiah_, shutting the door. What plagues, cried my father, going on with his calculation.——But the waters are out, said _Obadiah_,—opening the door again.