inst him. He never took
the trouble to open any that he did not expect, and often left sealed
many that he was most anxious to read. He once appeared with his begging
face at the Bank, humbly asking an advance of twenty pounds. 'Certainly,
sir; would you like any more?--fifty or a hundred?' said the smiling
clerk. Sheridan was overpowered. He _would_ like a hundred. 'Two or
three?' asked the scribe. Sheridan thought he was joking, but was ready
for two or even three--he was always ready for more. But he could not
conceal his surprise. 'Have you not received our letter?' the clerk
asked, perceiving it. Certainly he had received the epistle, which
informed him that his salary as Receiver-General of Cornwall had been
paid in, but he had never opened it.

This neglect of letters once brought him into a troublesome lawsuit
about the theatre. It was necessary to pay certain demands, and he had
applied to the Duke of Bedford to be his security. The duke had
consented, and for a whole year his letter of consent remained unopened.
In the meantime Sheridan had believed that the duke had neglected him,
and allowed the demands to be brought into court.

In the same way he had long before committed himself in the affair with
Captain Matthews. In order to give a public denial of certain reports
circulated in Bath, he had called upon an editor, requesting him to
insert the said reports in his paper in order that he might write him a
letter to refute them. The editor at once complied, the calumny was
printed and published, but Sheridan forgot all about his own refutation,
which was applied for in vain till too late.

Other causes were his extravagance and intemperance. There was an utter
want of even common moderation in everything he did. Whenever his boyish
spirit suggested any freak, whenever a craving of any kind possessed
him, no matter what the consequences here or hereafter, he rushed
heedlessly into the indulgence of it. Perhaps the enemy had never an
easier subject to deal with. Any sin in which there was a show of
present mirth, or easy pleasure, was as easily taken up by Sheridan as
if he had not a single particle of conscience or religious feeling, and
yet we are not at all prepared to say that he lacked either; he had only
deadened both by excessive indulgence of his fancies. The temptation of
wealth and fame had been too much for the poor and obscure young man who
rose to them so suddenly, and, as so often happens, thos