the pages of "Henry the Second." The book was at last pointed and printed, and sent into the world. Lyttelton took money for his copy, of which, when he had paid the Pointer, he probably gave the rest away; for he was very liberal to the indigent.
When time brought the History to a third edition, Reid was either dead or discarded; and the superintendance of typography and punctuation was committed to a man originally a comb-maker, but then known by the style of Doctor. Something uncommon was probably expected, and something uncommon was at last done; for to the Doctor's edition is appended, what the world had hardly seen before, a list of errors in nineteen pages.
But to politicks and literature there must be an end. Lord Lyttelton had never the appearance of a strong or of a healthy man; he had a slender uncompacted frame, and a meagre face; he lasted however sixty years, and was then seised with his last illness. Of his death a very affecting and instructive account has been given by his physician, which will spare me the task of his moral character.
