My uncle _Toby_ had but two things for it; either to suppose his brother to be the wandering _Jew_, or that his misfortunes had disordered his brain. --"May the Lord God of heaven and earth protect him and restore him," said my uncle _Toby_, praying silently for my father, and with tears in his eyes.
--My father placed the tears to a proper account, and went on with his harangue with great spirit.
"There is not such great odds, brother _Toby_, betwixt good and evil, as the world imagines"----(this way of setting off, by the bye, was not likely to cure my uncle _Toby's_ suspicions.)---- "Labour, sorrow, grief, sickness, want, and woe, are the sauces of life." --Much good may it do them--said my uncle _Toby_ to himself.------
"My son is dead! --so much the better; --'tis a shame in such a tempest to have but one anchor."

My uncle Toby had only two things for it; either to suppose his brother to be the wandering Jew, or that his misfortunes had disordered his brain.
'May the Lord God protect and restore him,' said he silently, with tears in his eyes.
My father placed the tears to a proper account, and went on with spirit.
'There is not such great odds, brother Toby, betwixt good and evil, as the world imagines.' (This, by the bye, was not likely to cure my uncle Toby's suspicions.) 'Labour, sorrow, grief, sickness and woe, are the sauces of life.
'My son is dead! - so much the better; 'tis a shame in such a tempest to have but one anchor.
