to this might be added all the changes of the coun tenance of a patron, traced from the first glow which flattery raises in his cheek, through ardour of fondness, vehemence of promise, magnificence of praise, excuse of delay, and lamentation of inability, to the last chill look of final dismission, when the one grows weary of soliciting and the other of hearing solicitation. Thus copious are the materials which have been hitherto suffered to lie neglected, while the repositories of every family that has produced a soldier or a minister are ransacked, and libraries are crowded with useless folios of state papers which will never be read, and which contribute nothing to valuable knowledge. I hope the learned will be taught to know their own strength and their value, and, instead of devoting their lives to the honour of those who seldom thank them for their labours, resolve at last to do justice to themselves. No. 103. SATURDAY, APRIL 5, 1760. Respicere ad longæ jussit spatia ultima vitæ.—Juv.1 M MUCH of the pain and pleasure of mankind arises from the conjectures which every one makes of the thoughts of others; we all enjoy praise which we do not hear, and resent contempt which we do not see. The Idler may therefore be forgiven, if he suffers his imagination to represent to him what his readers will say or think when they are informed that they have now his last paper in their hands. Value is more frequently raised by scarcity than by use. That which lay neglected when it was common, rises in estimation as its quantity becomes less. We seldom learn the true want of what we have till it is discovered that we can have no more. This essay will, perhaps, be read with care even by those who have not yet attended to any other; 1 Juvenal, Satires, x. 275. Human Wishes (1. 313) thus which this line occurs: Johnson in his Vanity of paraphrases the passage in "From Lydia's monarch should the search descend, In life's last scenes what prodigies surprise, From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, and he that finds this late attention recompensed, will not forbear to wish that he had bestowed it sooner. Though the Idler and his readers have contracted no close friendship, they are perhaps unwilling to part. There are few things not purely evil, of which we can say, without some emotion of uneasiness, this is the last. Those who never could agree together, shed tears when mutual discontent has determined them to final separation; of a place which has been frequently visited, though without pleasure, the last look is taken with heaviness of heart; and the Idler, with all his chilliness of tranquillity, is not wholly unaffected by the thought that his last essay is now before him. This secret horror of the last is inseparable from a thinking being, whose life is limited, and to whom death is dreadful. We always make a secret comparison between a part and the whole; the termination of any period of life reminds us that life itself has likewise its termination; when we have done any thing for the last time, we involuntarily reflect that a part of the days allotted to us is past, and that as more is past there is less remaining. It is very happily and kindly provided, that in 1 Lord Eldon referred to this passage in a letter which he wrote to his daughter on taking his "farewell of office" as Lord Chancellor.-Twiss's Life of Eldon, ed. 1846, ii. 164. 2 "The horror of death which I had always observed in Dr. Johnson appeared strong to-night... He said he never had a moment in which death was not terrible to him.” -Boswell's Johnson, iii. 153. every life there are certain pauses and interruptions, which force consideration upon the careless, and seriousness upon the light; points of time where one course of action ends, and another begins; and by vicissitudes of fortune, or alteration of employment, by change of place or loss of friendship, we are forced to say of something, this is the last. An even and unvaried tenor of life1 always hides from our apprehension the approach of its end. Succession is not perceived but by variation; he that lives to-day as he lived yesterday, and expects that as the present day is such will be the morrow, easily conceives time as running in a circle, and returning to itself. The uncertainty of our duration is impressed commonly by dissimilitude of condition; it is only by finding life changeable that we are reminded of its shortness. This conviction, however forcible at every new impression, is every moment fading from the mind; and partly by the inevitable incursion of new images, and partly by voluntary exclusion of unwelcome thoughts, we are again exposed to the universal fallacy; and we must do another thing for the last time, before we consider that the time is nigh when we shall do no more. As the last Idler is published in that solemn week which the Christian world has always set 1 "The noiseless tenor of their way of The Elegy in a Country Churchyard, is often misquoted "the even tenor." Perhaps Gray's verse and Johnson's line become mingled in the memory of their readers. 2 "The whole of life (said Johnson) is but keeping away the thoughts of death."-Boswell's Johnson, ii. 93. apart for the examination of the conscience, the review of life, the extinction of earthly desires, and the renovation of holy purposes; I hope that my readers are already disposed to view every incident with seriousness, and improve it by meditation; and that, when they see this series of trifles brought to a conclusion, they will consider that by outliving the Idler, they have passed weeks, months, and years, which are now no longer in their power; that an end must in time be put to every thing great as to every thing little; that to life must come its last hour, and to this system of being its last day, the hour at which probation ceases, and repentance will be vain; the day in which every work of the hand, and imagination of the heart shall be brought to judgment, and an everlasting futurity shall be determined by the past. WILLIAM RIDER & SON, PRINTERS, LONDON, |