and pretended: To neglect those characters, which, being impatient to grow familiar, are at the same time very far from familiarity-proof: To have posthumous fame in view, which affords us the most pleasing landscape: To enjoy the amusement of reading, and the consciousness that reading paves the way to general esteem: To preserve a constant regularity of temper, and also of constitution, for the most part but little consistent with a promiscuous intercourse with men: To shun all illiterate, though ever so jovial assemblies, insipid, perhaps, when present, and upon reflection painful: To meditate on those absent or departed friends, who value or valued us for those qualities with which they were best acquainted: To partake with such a friend as you, the delights of a studious and rational retirement-Are not these the paths that lead to happiness?

IN answer to this (for he seemed to feel some late mortification) I observed, that what we lost by familiarity in respect, was generally made up to us by the affection it procured; and that an absolute solitude was so very contrary to our natures, that were he excluded from society but for a single fortnight, he would be

exhilarated at the sight of the first beggar that he saw.

WHAT follows were thoughts thrown out in our further discourse upon the subject; without order or connexion, as they occur to my remembrance.

SOME reserve is a debt to prudence; as freedom and simplicity of conversation is a debt to good

nature.

THERE would not be any absolute necessity for reserve, if the world were honest: yet, even then, it would prove expedient. For, in order to attain any degree of deference, it seems necessary that people should imagine you have more accomplishments than you discover.

IT is on this depends one of the excellencies of the judicious Virgil. He leaves you something ever to imagine and such is the constitution of the human mind, that we think so highly of nothing, as of that whereof we do not see the bounds. This, as Mr. Burke ingeniously observes, affords the pleasure

when

when we survey a Cylinder; and Sir John Suckling says,

They who know all the wealth they have, are poor;
He's only rich who cannot tell his store.

A PERSON that would secure to himself great deference, will, perhaps, gain his point by silence, as effectually as by any thing he can say.

To be, however, a niggard of one's observation, is so much worse than to hoard up one's money, as the former may be both imparted and retained at the same time.

MEN oftentimes pretend to proportion their respect to real desert; but a supercilious reserve and distance wearies them into a compliance with more. This appears so very manifest to many persons of the lofty character, that they use no better means to acquire respect than like highwaymen to make a demand of it. They will, like Empedocles, jump into the fire, rather than betray the mortal part of their character.

IT is from the same principle of distance that

nations

nations are brought to believe that their great duke knoweth all things; as is the case in some countries.

MEN, while no human form or fault they see,
Excuse the want of ev'n humanity;

And eastern kings, who vulgar view disdain,
Require no worth to fix their awful reign.

You cannot say in truth what may disgrace 'em ;
You know in what predicament to place 'em.
Alas! in all the glare of light reveal'd,

Ev'n virtue charms us less than vice conceal'd!

FOR Some small worth he had, the man was priz'd,
He added frankness-and he grew despis'd.

WE want comets, not ordinary planets:

Tædet quotidianarum harum formarum.

Terence.

Hunc cœlum, et stellas, et decedentia certis
Tempora momentis, sunt qui formidine nullâ
Imbuti spectent.

VIRTUES, like essences, lose their fragrance when exposed. They are sensitive plants, which will not bear too familiar approaches.

LET

LET us be careful to distinguish modesty, which is ever amiable, from reserve, which is only prudent. A man is hated sometimes for pride, when it was an excess of humility gave the occasion.

WHAT is often termed shyness, is nothing more than refined sense, and an indifference to common observations.

THE reserved man's intimate acquaintance are, for the most part, fonder of him, than the persons of a more affable character, i.e. he pays them a greater compliment than the other can do his, as he distinguishes them more.

IT is indolence, and the pain of being upon one's guard, that makes one hate an artful character.

THE most reserved of men, that will not exchange two syllables together in an English coffee-house, should they meet at Ispahan, would drink sherbet, and eat a mess of rice together.

THE man of shew is vain: The reserved man is