XIX + 

вЄЇвБ†What a conjecture was here lost!вБ†вЄЇвБ†My father in one of his best explanatory moodsвБ†вАФin eager pursuit of a metaphysical point into the very regions, where clouds and thick darkness would soon have encompassed it about;вБ†вАФmy uncle Toby in one of the finest dispositions for it in the world;вБ†вАФhis head like a smoak-jack;вБ†вЄЇвБ†the funnel unswept, and the ideas whirling round and round about in it, all obfuscated and darkened over with fuliginous matter!вБ†вАФBy the tombstone of LucianвБ†вЄЇвБ†if it is in beingвБ†вЄЇвБ†if not, why then by his ashes! by the ashes of my dear Rabelais, and dearer Cervantes!вБ†вЄїmy father and my uncle TobyвАЩs discourse upon time and eternityвБ†вЄЇвБ†was a discourse devoutly to be wished for! and the petulancy of my fatherвАЩs humour, in putting a stop to it as he did, was a robbery of the Ontologic Treasury of such a jewel, as no coalition of great occasions and great men are ever likely to restore to it again. + 