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The second—cried my uncle Toby, waving his tobacco-pipe, as he would have done his sword at the head of a regiment.—The corporal went through his manual with exactness; and having honoured his father and mother, made a low bow, and fell back to the side of the room.
Every thing in this world, said my father, is big with jest,—and has wit in it, and instruction too,—if we can but find it out.
—Here is the scaffold work of Instruction, its true point of folly, without the building behind it. -
—Here is the glass for pedagogues, preceptors, tutors, governours, gerund-grinders and bear-leaders to view themselves in, in their true dimensions.—
Oh!
