——WHAT a conjuncture was here lost!——My father in one of his best
explanatory moods—in eager pursuit of a metaphysical point into the
very regions, where clouds and thick darkness would soon have
encompassed it about;—my uncle _Toby_ in one of the finest dispositions
for it in the world;—his head like a smoke-jack;——the funnel unswept,
and the ideas whirling round and round about in it, all obfuscated and
darkened over with fuliginous matter!—By the tomb-stone of _Lucian_——if
it is in being——if not, why then by his ashes! by the ashes of my dear
_Rabelais_, and dearer _Cervantes!_——my father and my uncle _Toby_’s
discourse upon TIME and ETERNITY——was a discourse devoutly to be wished
for! and the petulancy of my father’s 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.