Small curses, Dr. _Slop_, upon great occasions, quoth my father (condoling with him first upon the accident) are but so much waste of our strength and soul’s health to no manner of purpose.—I own it, replied Dr. _Slop._—They are like sparrow-shot, quoth my uncle _Toby_ (suspending his whistling) fired against a bastion.——They serve, continued my father, to stir the humours——but carry off none of their acrimony:—for my own part, I seldom swear or curse at all—I hold it bad——but if I fall into it by surprize, I generally retain so much presence of mind (right, quoth my uncle _Toby_) as to make it answer my purpose——that is, I swear on till I find myself easy. A wife and a just man however would always endeavour to proportion the vent given to these humours, not only to the degree of them stirring within himself—but to the size and ill intent of the offence upon which they are to fall.—“_Injuries come only from the heart_,”—quoth my uncle _Toby._ For this reason, continued my father, with the most _Cervantick_ gravity, I have the greatest veneration in the world for that gentleman, who, in distrust of his own discretion in this point, sat down and composed (that is at his leisure) fit forms of swearing suitable to all cases, from the lowest to the highest provocation which could possibly happen to him——which forms being well considered by him, and such moreover as he could stand to, he kept them ever by him on the chimney-piece, within his reach, ready for use.—I never apprehended, replied Dr. _Slop_, that such a thing was ever thought of——much less executed. I beg your pardon, answered my father; I was reading, though not using, one of them to my brother _Toby_ this morning, whilst he pour’d out the tea—’tis here upon the shelf over my head;—but if I remember right, ’tis too violent for a cut of the thumb.—Not at all, quoth Dr. _Slop_—the devil take the fellow.——Then, answered my father, ’Tis much at your service, Dr. _Slop_—on condition you will read it aloud;——so rising up and reaching down a form of excommunication of the church of _Rome_, a copy of which, my father (who was curious in his collections) had procured out of the leger-book of the church of _Rochester_, writ by ERNULPHUS the bishop——with a most affected seriousness of look and voice, which might have cajoled ERNULPHUS himself—he put it into Dr. _Slop_’s hands.——Dr. _Slop_ wrapt his thumb up in the corner of his handkerchief, and with a wry face, though without any suspicion, read aloud, as follows——my uncle _Toby_ whistling _Lillabullero_ as loud as he could all the time. Textus de Ecclesiâ Roffensi, per Ernulfum Episcopum. C A P. III EXCOMMUNICATIO.[6] EX auctoritate Dei omnipotentis, Patris, et Filij, et Spiritus Sancti, et sanctorum canonum, sanctæque et entemeratæ Virginis Dei genetricis Mariae,—