would have highly prized every day from the very com-
mencement of an office which gave him so much power to
do good; but the concluding days would saem so transcend-
ently precious that he would probably feel wonder and regret
that he should not have placed a higher value on all the
preceding. On these concluding days he would almost
lament the necessity of intermitting his exertions for the
sake of refreshment and repose. It would be impossible for
him to spend in light occupation, or to forgive himself if he
did so spend, one hour in which a petition might have been
heard, an important investigation concluded, a useful order
issued, or an abuse reformed. He would feel as if all the
people of his province were suddenly become his children,
and he were bound to make all the efforts for their welfare
that a dying father does for his family. No prolix conver-
sation even with his friends could be endured; much less
any idle chatting with mere acquaintance in order to preserve
civility. When he awoke on the very last day of his office
he would feel deep emotion, to think that now a few hours
were the utmost scope of his extensive power of utility, and
that he could not expand and multiply his powers far beyond
those of a mere individual in order to do full justice to this
concluding day. If he were a man of piety, he would in an
earnest short petition imi)lore that he might this one day at
least not live in vain; that hereafter he might be able to
look back to this one day at least without feeling the guilt
of indolence.
