86 THE EULOGY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES. 



nor the fear of disgrace and imprisonment 

 for debt, can shake my calm indifference and 

 belief in my good-fortune. Though I have 

 but a halfpenny to-day, to-morrow I shall be 

 rich. Besides, though I have had a severe 

 cold, my health and strength are wonderful. 

 Nothing earthly can hurt me. . . ." 



The next letter was written in July of the 

 same year, six months later. " I am very 

 busy," he says, " getting well known as a 

 writer. Both Swindon papers employ me ; 

 but I am chiefly occupied with my book. I 

 work at it almost night and day. I feel sure 

 it will succeed. If it does not, I know nothing 

 that will, and I may as well at once give up 

 the profession." 



I do not think there is anything in the 

 world more full of pity and interest than the 

 spectacle of a clever young man struggling for 

 literary success. He knows, somehow he feels 

 in his heart, that he has the power. It is like 

 a hidden spring which has to be found, or a 

 secret force which has to be set in motion, or 

 a lamp which has to be set alight. This young 



