--I dare say not, said my uncle _Toby_, in a low voice, and fetching a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart, he has been ill enough, poor lad! I'll answer for him----for he is dead.
When _Agrippina_ was told of her son's death, _Tacitus_ informs us, that, not being able to moderate the violence of her passions, she abruptly broke off her work. --My father stuck his compasses into _Nevers_, but so much the faster. --What contrarieties! his, indeed, was matter of calculation! --_Agrippina's_ must have been quite a different affair; who else could pretend to reason from history?
How my father went on, in my opinion, deserves a chapter to itself.--
'I dare say not,' said my uncle Toby, in a low voice, and sighing deeply. 'Poor lad! He is dead.'
When Agrippina was told of her son's death, Tacitus informs us that she abruptly broke off her work. - My father stuck his compasses into Nevers yet more firmly.
How my father went on, in my opinion, deserves a chapter to itself.