It is natural for a perfect stranger who is going from _London_ to _Edinburgh_, to enquire before he sets out, how many miles to _York_; which is about the half way----nor does anybody wonder, if he goes on and asks about the corporation, &c.--
It was just as natural for Mrs. _Wadman_, whose first husband was all his time afflicted with a Sciatica, to wish to know how far from the hip to the groin; and how far she was likely to suffer more or less in her feelings, in the one case than in the other.
She had accordingly read _Drake's_ anatomy from one end to the other. She had peeped into _Wharton_ upon the brain, and borrowed[9.2] _Graaf_ upon the bones and muscles; but could make nothing of it.
She had reason'd likewise from her own powers----laid down theorems----drawn consequences, and come to no conclusion.
To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor _Slop_, "if poor captain _Shandy_ was ever likely to recover of his wound----?"
----He is recovered, Doctor _Slop_ would say----
What! quite?
Quite: madam----
But what do you mean by a recovery? Mrs. _Wadman_ would say.
Doctor _Slop_ was the worst man alive at definitions; and so Mrs. _Wadman_ could get no knowledge: in short, there was no way to extract it, but from my uncle _Toby_ himself.
There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind which lulls SUSPICION to rest----and I am half persuaded the serpent got pretty near it, in his discourse with Eve; for the propensity in the sex to be deceived could not be so great, that she should have boldness to hold chat with the devil, without it ----But there is an accent of humanity----how shall I describe it? --'tis an accent which covers the part with a garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as particular with it, as your body-surgeon.
"----Was it without remission?--
"----Was it more tolerable in bed?
"----Could he lie on both sides alike with it?
"--Was he able to mount a horse?
"--Was motion bad for it?" _et ctera_, were so tenderly spoke to, and so directed towards my uncle _Toby's_ heart, that every item of them sunk ten times deeper into it than the evils themselves----but when Mrs. _Wadman_ went round about by _Namur_ to get at my uncle _Toby's_ groin; and engaged him to attack the point of the advanced counterscarp, and _ple mle_ with the _Dutch_ to take the counterguard of St. _Roch_ sword in hand--and then with tender notes playing upon his ear, led him all bleeding by the hand out of the trench, wiping her eye, as he was carried to his tent ----Heaven! Earth! Sea! --all was lifted up--the springs of nature rose above their levels--an angel of mercy sat besides him on the sopha--his heart glow'd with fire--and had he been worth a thousand, he had lost every heart of them to Mrs. _Wadman_.
--And whereabouts, dear Sir, quoth Mrs. _Wadman_, a little categorically, did you receive this sad blow? ----In asking this question, Mrs. _Wadman_ gave a slight glance towards the waistband of my uncle _Toby's_ red plush breeches, expecting naturally, as the shortest reply to it, that my uncle _Toby_ would lay his forefinger upon the place ----It fell out otherwise----for my uncle _Toby_ having got his wound before the gate of St. _Nicolas_, in one of the traverses of the trench opposite to the salient angle of the demibastion of St. _Roch_; he could at any time stick a pin upon the identical spot of ground where he was standing when the stone struck him: this struck instantly upon my uncle _Toby's_ sensorium----and with it, struck his large map of the town and citadel of _Namur_ and its environs, which he had purchased and pasted down upon a board, by the corporal's aid, during his long illness----it had lain with other military lumber in the garret ever since, and accordingly the corporal was detached into the garret to fetch it.
My uncle _Toby_ measured off thirty toises, with Mrs. _Wadman's_ scissars, from the returning angle before the gate of St. _Nicolas_; and with such a virgin modesty laid her finger upon the place, that the goddess of Decency, if then in being--if not, 'twas her shade--shook her head, and with a finger wavering across her eyes--forbid her to explain the mistake.
Unhappy Mrs. _Wadman!_
----For nothing can make this chapter go off with spirit but an apostrophe to thee----but my heart tells me, that in such a crisis an apostrophe is but an insult in disguise, and ere I would offer one to a woman in distress--let the chapter go to the devil; provided any damn'd critic _in keeping_ will be but at the trouble to take it with him.
[Footnote 9.2: This must be a mistake in Mr. _Shandy_; for _Graaf_ wrote upon the pancreatick juice, and the parts of generation.]
It is natural for a stranger who is going from London to Edinburgh, to enquire before he sets out, how many miles to York, which is about half way - nor does anybody wonder, if he then asks about the corporation coach, &c.
It was just as natural for Mrs. Wadman, whose first husband was afflicted with a Sciatica, to wish to know how far from the hip to the groin; and how far she was likely to suffer more or less in the one case than in the other.
She had accordingly read all of Drake's anatomy. She had peeped into Wharton upon the brain, and borrowed Graaf upon the bones and muscles; but could make nothing of it.
She had reasoned likewise from her own powers - laid down theorems - and come to no conclusion.
To clear up all, she had twice asked Doctor Slop 'if poor captain Shandy was ever likely to recover from his wound?'
'He is recovered,' Doctor Slop would say.
'What! quite?'
'Quite, madam.'
'But what do you mean by a recovery?' Mrs. Wadman would say.
Doctor Slop was the worst man alive at definitions; and so Mrs. Wadman could get no knowledge: in short, there was no way to extract it, but from my uncle Toby himself.
There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind - how shall I describe it? 'tis an accent which covers the part with a garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as particular with it as your surgeon.
'Was it without remission?'
'Was it more tolerable in bed?'
'Could he lie on both sides alike with it?'
'Was he able to mount a horse?'
'Was motion bad for it?' et cetera, were so tenderly spoken, and so directed towards my uncle Toby's heart, that every item of them sunk deep into it - but when Mrs. Wadman went round about by Namur to get at my uncle Toby's groin; and engaged him to attack the point of the advanced counterscarp of Saint Roch, sword in hand - and then with tender notes playing upon his ear, led him all bleeding by the hand out of the trench, wiping her eye, as he was carried to his tent-
Heaven! Earth! Sea! - all was lifted up - an angel of mercy sat beside him on the sofa - his heart glowed with fire - and had he had a thousand hearts, he would have lost them all to Mrs. Wadman.
'And whereabouts, dear Sir,' quoth Mrs. Wadman, 'did you receive this sad blow?' She glanced towards the waistband of my uncle Toby's red plush breeches, expecting naturally, as the shortest reply, that my uncle Toby would lay his forefinger upon the place.
It fell out otherwise - for my uncle Toby having got his wound before the gate of St. Nicolas, in one of the traverses of the trench opposite the salient angle of the demibastion of St. Roch, he could stick a pin upon the exact spot of ground where he was standing when the stone struck him. My uncle immediately thought of his large map of the citadel of Namur and its environs, which he had purchased and pasted down upon a board during his long illness. It had lain with other military lumber in the garret ever since, and accordingly the corporal was sent into the garret to fetch it.
My uncle Toby measured off two hundred feet on the map, with Mrs. Wadman's scissors, from the angle before the gate of St. Nicolas; and with such a virgin modesty laid her finger upon the place, that the goddess of Decency shook her head, and forbade her to explain the mistake.
Unhappy Mrs. Wadman!
- For nothing can make this chapter end with spirit but an apostrophe to thee - but my heart tells me, that in such a crisis, an apostrophe is an insult in disguise, and before I would offer one to a woman in distress - let the chapter go to the devil.
Book 9 - Chapter 26