h 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 Graaf (This must be
a mistake in Mr. Shandy; for Graaf wrote upon the pancreatick juice,
and the parts of generation.) 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 caetera, 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 pele mele 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
ev