"Pooh!" said the Doctor, "the essence I mean is quite a different essence."
"Something too fine to be dribbled through the worm of a still," said my grandfather.
"Then I am all in the dark again," rejoined Aunt Judy.
"By the spirit and essence of things I mean things in the abstract."
"And what becomes of a thing when it goes into the abstract?" asked Uncle Tim.
"Why, it becomes an abstraction."
"There we are again," said Uncle Tim; "but what on earth is an abstraction?"
"It is a thing that has no matter: that is, it cannot be felt, seen, heard, smelt, or tasted; it has no substance or solidity; it is neither large nor small, hot nor cold, long nor short."
"Then what is the long and short of it?" asked the Schoolmaster.
"Abstraction," replied the Doctor.