I often derive a peculiar satisfaction in conversing with the ancient
and modern dead,--who yet live and speak excellently in their works.--My
neighbours think me _often alone_,--and yet at such times I am in
company with more than five hundred mutes--each of whom, at my pleasure,
communicates his ideas to me by dumb signs--quite as intelligibly as any
person living can do by uttering of words.--They always keep the
distance from me which I direct,--and, with a motion of my hand, I can
bring them as near to me as I please.--I lay hands on fifty of them
sometimes in an evening, and handle them as I like;--they never complain
of ill-usage,--and, when dismissed from my presence--though ever so
abruptly--take no offence. Such convenience is not to be enjoyed--nor
such liberty to be taken--with the living.--L. STERNE. _Letters._