For in this long digression which I was accidentally led into, as in all my digressions (one only excepted) there is a masterstroke of digressive skill, the merit of which has all along, I fear, been overlooked by my reader, --not for want of penetration in him, --but because ’tis an excellence seldom looked for, or expected indeed, in a digression; --and it is this: That tho’ my digressions are all fair, as you observe, --and that I fly off from what I am about, as far, and as often too, as any writer in _Great Britain_; yet I constantly take care to order affairs so that my main business does not stand still in my absence. I was just going, for example, to have given you the great outlines of my uncle _Toby’s_ most whimsical character; --when my aunt _Dinah_ and the coachman came across us, and led us a vagary some millions of miles into the very heart of the planetary system: Notwithstanding all this, you perceive that the drawing of my uncle _Toby’s_ character went on gently all the time; --not the great contours of it, --that was impossible, --but some familiar strokes and faint designations of it, were here and there touch’d on, as we went along, so that you are much better acquainted with my uncle _Toby_ now than you was before. By this contrivance the machinery of my work is of a species by itself; two contrary motions are introduced into it, and reconciled, which were thought to be at variance with each other. In a word, my work is digressive, and it is progressive too, --and at the same time. This, Sir, is a very different story from that of the earth’s moving round her axis, in her diurnal rotation, with her progress in her elliptick orbit which brings about the year, and constitutes that variety and vicissitude of seasons we enjoy; --though I own it suggested the thought, --as I believe the greatest of our boasted improvements and discoveries have come from such trifling hints. Digressions, incontestably, are the sunshine; ----they are the life, the soul of reading! --take them out of this book, for instance, --you might as well take the book along with them; --one cold eternal winter would reign in every page of it; restore them to the writer; --he steps forth like a bridegroom, --bids All-hail; brings in variety, and forbids the appetite to fail. All the dexterity is in the good cookery and management of them, so as to be not only for the advantage of the reader, but also of the author, whose distress, in this matter, is truly pitiable: For, if he begins a digression, --from that moment, I observe, his whole work stands stock still; --and if he goes on with his main work, --then there is an end of his digression.