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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:
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