spirit of White's and Brookes', the companion of a
prince and a score of noblemen, the enlivener of every 'fashionable'
table, was forgotten by all but this one doctor. Let us read Moore's
description: 'A sheriff's officer at length arrested the dying man _in
his bed_, and was about to carry him off, in his blankets, to a
sponging-house, when Dr. Bain interfered.' Who would live the life of
revelry that Sheridan lived to have such an end? A few days after, on
the 7th of July, 1816, in his sixty-fifth year, he died. Of his last
hours the late Professor Smythe wrote an admirable and most touching
account, a copy of which was circulated in manuscript. The Professor,
hearing of Sheridan's condition, asked to see him, with a view, not only
of alleviating present distress, but of calling the dying man to
repentance. From his hands the unhappy Sheridan received the Holy
Communion; his face, during that solemn rite,--doubly solemn when it is
performed in the chamber of death, 'expressed,' Smythe relates, '_the
deepest awe_' That phrase conveys to the mind impressions not easy to be
defined, not soon to be forgotten.

Peace! there was not peace even in death, and the creditor pursued him
even into the 'waste wide,'--even to the coffin. He was lying in state,
when a gentleman in the deepest mourning called, it is said, at the
house, and introducing himself as an old and much-attached friend of the
deceased, begged to be allowed to look upon his face. The tears which
rose in his eyes, the tremulousness of his quiet voice, the pallor of
his mournful face, deceived the unsuspecting servant, who accompanied
him to the chamber of death, removed the lid of the coffin, turned down
the shrowd, and revealed features which had once been handsome, but long
since rendered almost hideous by drinking. The stranger gazed with
profound emotion, while he quietly drew from his pocket a bailiff's
wand, and touching the corpse's face with it, suddenly altered his
manner to one of considerable glee, and informed the servant that he had
arrested the corpse in the king's name for a debt of L500. It was the
morning of the funeral, which was to be attended by half the grandees of
England, and in a few minutes the mourners began to arrive. But the
corpse was the bailiff's property, till his claim was paid, and nought
but the money would soften the iron capturer. Canning and Lord Sidmouth
agreed to settle the matter, and over the coffin the debt was paid.