“The person whose interests are at this moment the subject of my thoughts is a person nearly of the same age as myself, whom I first became acquainted with when I was seventeen, and whom from that time I have never lost sight of. His career in the world has been similar to my own, except that he wanted that originality of talent that the world has been good-natured enough to impute to me. In my own outset in literature I was engaged with the booksellers in obscure labours, reviews, compilations, translations, etc., and during that time this gentleman was for several years my coadjutor. Afterwards, when I engaged in writings of a superior cast, he set up for himself; and now for twenty-five years he has subsisted respectably by the compilation of indexes, the correction of English in works written by foreigners in our language, translations, and the superintendence of works in their passage through the press; and in these useful labours he has been at all times indefatigable. But . . . owing to various circumstances, he finds himself for the first time oppressed with debts which he is unable to discharge. . . .
“I have yet, however, but mentioned half the claims I
conceive him to have upon the kindness of others. Mr Marshal (that is his name) has spent the greater part of his
life in the disinterested service of others. By his indefatigable exertions,
principally in going from friend to friend, and from house to house, £1000
| DEATH OF SHERIDAN. | 239 |
