The jest has not substance enough--few of
Sterne's jests have--to stand the process of continual attrition to
which he subjects it. But the mere historic gravity with which the
various turns of this monomania are recorded--to say nothing of the
seldom failing charm of the easy, gossiping style--prevents the thing
from ever becoming utterly tiresome. On the whole, however, one begins
to grow impatient for more of the same sort as the three admirable
chapters on the Rev. Mr. Yorick, and is not sorry to get to the
opening of the second volume, with its half-tender, half-humorous, and
wholly delightful account of Uncle Toby's difficulties in describing
the siege operations before Namur, and of the happy chance by which
these difficulties made him ultimately the fortunate possessor of a
"hobby."
Throughout this volume there are manifest signs of Sterne's unceasing
interest in his own creations, and of his increasing consciousness of
creative power. Captain Toby Shandy is but just lightly sketched-in
the first volume, while Corporal Trim has not made his appearance on
the scene at all; but before the end of the second we know both of
them thoroughly, within and without.
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