XVII

much as to say,⁠—and so he is.⁠⸺⁠ > > But prithee, Trim , said my father, make an end,⁠—for I see thou hast but a leaf or two left. > > Corporal Trim read on.] > > “If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not sufficient,⁠—consider at this instant, how the votaries of that religion are every day thinking to do service and honour to God, by actions which are a dishonour and scandal to themselves. > > “To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of the Inquisition.”⁠—[God help my poor brother Tom .]⁠—“Behold Religion , with Mercy and Justice chained down under her feet,⁠⸺⁠there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment. Hark!⁠—hark! what a piteous groan!”⁠—[Here Trim’s face turned as pale as ashes.]⁠⸺“See the melancholy wretch who uttered it”⁠—[Here the tears began to trickle down.]⁠⸺“just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of cruelty has been able to invent.”⁠—[D⁠⸺⁠n them all, quoth Trim , his colour returning into his face as red as blood.]⁠—“Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors,⁠—his body so wasted with sorrow and confinement.”⁠⸺[Oh! ’tis my brother, cried poor Trim in a most passionate exclamation, dropping the sermon upon the ground, and clapping his hands together⁠—I fear ’tis poor Tom . My father’s and my uncle Toby’s heart yearned with sympathy for the poor fellow’s distress; even Slop himself acknowledged pity for him.⁠⸺⁠Why, Trim , said my father, this is not a history,⁠⸺’tis a sermon thou art reading; prithee begin