Makes bad men
worse; but that I once knew one, - for he is no more, - and why
should I not rescue one page from violation by writing his name in
it, and telling the world it was Captain Tobias Shandy, the dearest
of my flock and friends, whose philanthropy I never think of at
this long distance from his death - but my eyes gush out with tears.
For his sake I have a predilection for the whole corps of veterans;
and so I strode over the two back rows of benches and placed myself
beside him.
The old officer was reading attentively a small pamphlet, it might
be the book of the opera, with a large pair of spectacles. As soon
as I sat down, he took his spectacles off, and putting them into a
shagreen case, return'd them and the book into his pocket together.
I half rose up, and made him a bow.
Translate this into any civilized language in the world - the sense
is this:
"Here's a poor stranger come into the box - he seems as if he knew
nobody; and is never likely, was he to be seven years in Paris, if
every man he comes near keeps his spectacles upon his nose: - 'tis
shutting the door of conversation absolutely in his face - and using
him worse than a German."
The French officer might as well have said it all aloud:
