jects to the laws we have subscribed. We submit to vexation in order to do what seems good-natured; and put a constraint on ourselves, that we may appear easy and free. We speak a great deal which we do not think, and suppress our opinions that we may be thought affable. We declare ourselves infinitely obliged when we are extremely disgusted; and earnestly request the future visits of those whom we never desire to see again. We are obliged to profess attachment where we cannot even bestow esteem; and must appear very sorry to part with those whom we think it a disgrace to meet. In a word, what Dr. Swift says of the ambition of keeping company with the great, may be applied to the desire for an extensive and promiscuous acquaintance: "It is first vanity, and then vexation of spirit."

pass

But these violations of the laws of common sense would not occur so frequently, were we now and then to from the company company of our contemporaries to that of our ancestors, learn to read as well as to talk, and exchange the crowd of the drawing-room for the better assorted friends we find on the shelves of the library. This last, indeed, is a species of friends so far preferable in every useful merit, and to every valuable purpose, that it is only wonderful that

any rational being should complain of the want of proper companions or counsellors. They have this distinguishing characteristic, that it is impossible for the longest liver to exhaust the variety of entertainment they afford, or to put in practice half the good things they suggest, and the good advice they give. So various too are their accomplishments, that every taste may find a corresponding companion, and pass "from grave to gay, from lively to severe," without any of those abrupt transitions which mark the inconstant levity of superficial thinkers and lax talkers. If information be our object, it is impossible to say where it can be found in more abundance, and these intelligent companions are such decided enemies to ignorance, that perhaps no person can honestly aver he ever consulted them without receiving satisfaction.

There are other advantages belonging to the kind of company now recommended, which I hope will have their weight. Those who are ambitious to associate with their superiors may here be gratified without the importunity of request, the interest of friends, or the timidity of personal introduction. They may be ad mitted not only into familiarity with the wisest, but with the greatest characters of former times,

view their inmost thoughts as well as their outward actions, and criticise both with a freedom that would be dangerous in the living world. All distinctions are indeed here levelled; and whatever our situation, we may be admitted into familiarity with men of every rank, and with those who were the pride and admiration of their times, for bravery, learning, or personal accomplishments. We may pass from the unbending and stern morals of a Johnson, to the polite and pliable manners of a Chesterfield; and from the profound thinking of Bacon or Locke, to the gay and elegant remarks of Addison or Steele. We may converse with the most learned Divines, the most luminous Historians, and the finest Poets that ever graced the commonwealth of letters. And while we have it thus in our power to enjoy such company, there is another recommendation, which to some may be of considerable importance. We may change our companions when we please; and we may retire from them without giving the least offence, or break into their privacy without the trouble of previous notice; for, although they demand our respectful attention, they dispense with every kind of

ceremony.

With all these advantages, let it not be

thought that the time thus employed yields no more profit than that spent in other company. If the object of my lucubration had been merely a change of associates, it might have been withheld without much injury. But the principal advantage of passing an hour or two among the dead is, that it qualifies us not only for making a better figure among the living, but for enjoying their conversation with a zest, of which that man can have no idea who has not made the experiment. A knowledge of the past is more necessary, than than many are aware of, for understanding the present and preparing for the future. By this plan likewise, those who are inclined to talk, are furnished with something to say, which will occasionally be found very useful and agreeable. It contributes also to resolve doubts, with somewhat more to be depended on than conjecture; it furnishes the means of answering questions, and may therefore, in the course of a year, save the expence of a considerable number of blushes and silly looks. And lastly, it not unfrequently sharpens wit, and suggests repartee. Before I conclude, however, it may not be amiss to add, that in some respects the plan I recommend is of no use. With all my veneration for it, I must in candour allow, that it

enables no man to shine in the ball-room, or to win at the card-table. In conversation, the best of the companions to whom I allude, seem ignorant of the mode of reasoning by wagers ; and are so far from being pleased with, or assisting the propagation of scandal, whether political or personal, that they are inclined to throw ridicule on the most ingenious fabrications of that sort; and contend so earnestly for matters of fact, that they make no allowance for the surmises of wit, or the reports of malice.

THE PROJECTOR. No 63.

Βλεπετε εν πως ακριβως περιπολείπε.

SAC. SCRIP.

November 1806.

HAPPENING a few days ago to take up the works of the learned Dr. Barrow, for a very different purpose than that of discovering the subject of a Projector, I met with a remark