od English, I have no sort of conception--There
seems in some passages to want a sixth sense to do it rightly.--What can
he mean by the lambent pupilability of slow, low, dry chat, five notes
below the natural tone--which you know, madam, is little more than a
whisper? The moment I pronounced the words, I could perceive an attempt
towards a vibration in the strings, about the region of the heart.--The
brain made no acknowledgment.--There's often no good understanding
betwixt 'em--I felt as if I understood it.--I had no ideas.--The
movement could not be without cause.--I'm lost. I can make nothing of
it--unless, may it please your worships, the voice, in that case being
little more than a whisper, unavoidably forces the eyes to approach not
only within six inches of each other--but to look into the pupils--is
not that dangerous?--But it can't be avoided--for to look up to the
cieling, in that case the two chins unavoidably meet--and to look down
into each other's lap, the foreheads come to immediate contact, which
at once puts an end to the conference--I mean to the sentimental part of
it.--What is left, madam, is not worth stooping for.

Chapter 2.XXXVII.

My father lay stretched across the bed as still as if the hand of death
had pushed him down, for a full hour and a half before he began to play
upon the floor with the toe of that foot which hung over the bed-side;
my uncle Toby's heart was a pound lighter for it.--In a few moments,
his left-hand, the knuckles of which had all the time reclined upon the
handle of the chamber-pot, came to its feeling--he thrust it a little
more within the valance--drew up his hand, when he had done, into his
bosom--gave a hem! My good uncle Toby, with infinite pleasure, answered
it; and full gladly would have ingrafted a sentence of consolation upon
the opening it afforded: but having no talents, as I said, that way, and
fearing moreover that he might set out with something which might make
a bad matter worse, he contented himself with resting his chin placidly
upon the cross of his crutch.

Now whether the compression shortened my uncle Toby's face into a more
pleasurable oval--or that the philanthropy of his heart, in seeing
his brother beginning to emerge out of the sea of his afflictions,
had braced up his muscles--so that the compression upon his chin only
doubled the benignity which was there before, is not hard to decide.--My
father, in turning his eyes, was struck with su