THE world is ashamed of being virtuous——my uncle _Toby_ knew little of
the world; and therefore when he felt he was in love with widow
_Wadman_, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a
mystery of, than if Mrs. _Wadman_ had given him a cut with a gap’d
knife across his finger: Had it been otherwise——yet as he ever look’d
upon _Trim_ as a humble friend; and saw fresh reasons every day of his
life, to treat him as such——it would have made no variation in the
manner in which he informed him of the affair.
“I am in love, corporal!” quoth my uncle _Toby._