that can eat or drink, except a thin poor piece of a vestal, (to keep my fire in) and who has generally as bad an appetite as myself:-but, if you think this makes a philosopher of me,-I would not, my good people, give a rush for your judgments. True philosophy; but there is no treating the subject whilst my uncle is whistling Lillabullero. -Let us go into the house. * CHAPTER CCXCIX. -You shall see the very place, madam, said my uncle Toby. Mrs. Wadman blushed,-looked towards the door, -turned pale,-blushed slightly again,-recovered her natural colour, blushed worse than ever ; which, for the sake of the unlearned reader, I translate thus::- 'L--d! I cannot look at it!— What would the world say if I looked at it? 'I should drop down if I looked at it! I wish I could look at it. There can be no sin in looking at it. - I will look at it.' Whilst all this was running through Mrs. Wadman's imagination, my uncle Toby had risen from the sofa, and got to the other side of the parlour-door, to give Trim an order about it in the passage * * ** * uncle Toby. ** ** * * I believe it is in the garret, said my -I saw it there, an' please your honour, this morning, answered Trim.—Then prythee step directly for it, Trim, said my uncle Toby, and bring it into the parlour. The Corporal did not approve of the orders; but most cheerfully obeyed them. The first was not an act of his will,-the second was; so he put on his Montero-cap, and went as fast as his lame knee would let him. My uncle Toby returned into the parlour, and sat himself down again upon the sofa. -You shall lay your finger upon the place, said my uncle Toby.—I will not touch it, however, quoth Mrs. Wadman to herself. This requires a second translation :— -it shows what little knowledge is got by mere words; we must go up to the first springs. Now, in order to clear up the mist which hangs upon these three pages,1 I must endeavour to be as clear as possible myself. Rub your hands thrice across your foreheads,blow your noses,-cleanse your emunctories,―sneeze, my good people:-God bless you! Now give me all the help you can. CHAPTER CCC. As there are fifty different ends (counting all ends in, as well civil as religious) for which a woman takes a husband, she first sets about and carefully weighs, then separates and distinguishes, in her mind, which of all that number of ends is hers; then, by discourse, inquiry, argumentation, and inference, she investigates and finds out whether she has got hold of the right one;—and, if she has,-then, by pulling it gently this way and that way, she farther forms a judgment, whether it will not break in the drawing. The imagery under which Slawkenbergius impresses this upon the reader's fancy, in the beginning of his third Decade, is so ludicrous, that the honour I bear the sex will not suffer me to quote it,-otherwise, it is not destitute of humour. She first,' saith Slawkenbergius, stops the ass; and holding his halter in her left hand, (lest he should get away) she thrusts her right hand into the very bottom of his pannier, to search for it.— For what? 1 In the original edition. VOL. II. |