cess of analytical dialectics, to subvert the pyramidal structure
of synthetically deduced opinions, which have withstood the secular
revolutions of physiological disquisition, and which I maintain to be
transcendentally self-evident, categorically certain, and
syllogistically demonstrable.

_Squire Headlong._
Bravo! Pass the bottle. The very best speech that ever was made.

_Mr Escot._
It has only the slight disadvantage of being unintelligible.

_Mr Panscope._
I am not obliged, sir, as Dr Johnson observed on a similar occasion,
to furnish you with an understanding.

_Mr Escot._
I fear, sir, you would have some difficulty in furnishing me with such
an article from your own stock.

_Mr Panscope._
'Sdeath, sir, do you question my understanding?

_Mr Escot._
I only question, sir, where I expect a reply; which, from things that
have no existence, I am not visionary enough to anticipate.

_Mr Panscope._
I beg leave to observe, sir, that my language was perfectly
perspicuous, and etymologically correct; and, I conceive, I have
demonstrated what I shall now take the liberty to say in plain terms,
that all your opinions are extremely absurd.

_Mr Escot._
I should be sorry, sir, to advance any opinion that you would not
think absurd.

_Mr Panscope._
Death and fury, sir----

_Mr Escot._
Say no more, sir. That apology is quite sufficient.

_Mr Panscope._
Apology, sir?

_Mr Escot._
Even so, sir. You have lost your temper, which I consider equivalent
to a confession that you have the worst of the argument.

_Mr Panscope._
Lightning and devils! sir----

_Squire Headlong._
No civil war!--Temperance, in the name of Bacchus!--A glee! a glee!
_Music has charms to bend the knotted oak._ Sir Patrick, you'll join?

_Sir Patrick O'Prism._
Troth, with all my heart; for, by my soul, I'm bothered completely.

_Squire Headlong._
Agreed, then; you, and I, and Chromatic. Bumpers! Come, strike up.

Squire Headlong, Mr Chromatic, and Sir Patrick O'Prism, each holding a
bumper, immediately vociferated the following

GLEE

A heeltap! a heeltap! I never could bear it!
So fill me a bumper, a bumper of claret!
Let the bottle pass freely, don't shirk it nor spare it,
For a heeltap! a heeltap! I never could bear it!

No skylight! no twilight! while Bacchus rules o'er us:
No thinking! no shrinking! all drinking in chorus: