Great wits jump: for the moment Dr. Slop cast his eyes upon his bag (which he had not done till the dispute with my uncle Toby about mid-wifery put him in mind of it)--the very same thought occurred.--'Tis God's mercy, quoth he (to himself) that Mrs. Shandy has had so bad a time of it,--else she might have been brought to bed seven times told, before one half of these knots could have got untied.--But here you must distinguish--the thought floated only in Dr. Slop's mind, without sail or ballast to it, as a ****** proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day swimming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a man's understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some little gusts of passion or interest drive them to one side.
A sudden trampling in the room above, near my mother's bed, did the proposition the very service I am speaking of. By all that's unfortunate, quoth Dr. Slop, unless I make haste, the thing will actually befall me as it is.
