LAERT.
Begone, ye blockheads, Heraclitus cries,
And leave my labours to the learn'd and wise;
By wit, by knowledge, studious to be read,
I scorn the multitude, alive and dead.
Time, which puts an end to all human pleasures and sorrows, has
likewise concluded the labours of the Rambler. Having supported, for two
years, the anxious employment of a periodical writer, and multiplied my
essays to upwards of two hundred, I have now determined to desist.
The reasons of this resolution it is of little importance to declare,
since justification is unnecessary when no objection is made. I am far
from supposing, that the cessation of my performances will raise any
inquiry, for I have never been much a favourite of the publick, nor can
boast that, in the progress of my undertaking, I have been animated by
the rewards of the liberal, the caresses of the great, or the praises of
the eminent.
But I have no design to gratify pride by submission, or malice by
lamentation; nor think it reasonable to complain of neglect from those
whose regard I never solicited. If I have not been distinguished by the
distributors of literary honours, I have seldom descended to the arts by
which favour is obtained.
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