--But what are these, continued my father--(breaking out in a
kind of enthusiasm)--what are these, to those prodigies of childhood
in Grotius, Scioppius, Heinsius, Politian, Pascal, Joseph Scaliger,
Ferdinand de Cordoue, and others--some of which left off their
substantial forms at nine years old, or sooner, and went on reasoning
without them;--others went through their classics at seven;--wrote
tragedies at eight;--Ferdinand de Cordoue was so wise at nine,--'twas
thought the Devil was in him;--and at Venice gave such proofs of his
knowledge and goodness, that the monks imagined he was Antichrist, or
nothing.--Others were masters of fourteen languages at ten,--finished
the course of their rhetoric, poetry, logic, and ethics, at eleven,--put
forth their commentaries upon Servius and Martianus Capella at
twelve,--and at thirteen received their degrees in philosophy, laws, and
divinity:--but you forget the great Lipsius, quoth Yorick, who composed
a work (Nous aurions quelque interet, says Baillet, de montrer qu'il n'a
rien de ridicule s'il etoit veritable, au moins dans le sens enigmatique
que Nicius Erythraeus a ta he de lui donner. Cet auteur dit que pour
comprendre comme Lipse, il a pu composer un ouvrage le premier jour de
sa vie, il faut s'imaginer, que ce premier jour n'est pas celui de
sa naissance charnelle, mais celui au quel il a commence d'user de
la raison; il veut que c'ait ete a l'age de neuf ans; et il nous veut
persuader que ce fut en cet age, que Lipse fit un poeme.--Le tour est
ingenieux, &c. &c.) the day he was born:--They should have wiped it up,
said my uncle Toby, and said no more about it.

Chapter 3.XLVI.

When the cataplasm was ready, a scruple of decorum had unseasonably rose
up in Susannah's conscience, about holding the candle, whilst Slop tied
it on; Slop had not treated Susannah's distemper with anodynes,--and so
a quarrel had ensued betwixt them.

--Oh! oh!--said Slop, casting a glance of undue freedom in Susannah's
face, as she declined the office;--then, I think I know you, madam--You
know me, Sir! cried Susannah fastidiously, and with a toss of her
head, levelled evidently, not at his profession, but at the doctor
himself,--you know me! cried Susannah again.--Doctor Slop clapped his
finger and his thumb instantly upon his nostrils;--Susannah's spleen
was ready to burst at it;--'Tis false, said Susannah.--Come, come, Mrs.
Modesty, said Slop, not a little elated with the success of hi