agnitude, and the Doctor was to dine with him to arrange the affair.
Kennedy was resolved, that, at all events, he should go to the dinner
sober, and so called upon him before he was up, never leaving him for a
moment all day, and resolutely resisting every imploring appeal for a
dram. The hour of six drew near, and they sallied out. On the way,
Kennedy found it almost impossible, even by main force, to prevent the
Doctor entering a public-house. Passing an undertaker's shop, the Doctor
suddenly stopped, recollected he had a message there, and begged Kennedy
to wait for a moment outside,--a request which was readily complied
with, as it was thought there could be no possible danger in such a
place. Maginn entered, with his handkerchief to his eyes, sobbing
bitterly. The undertaker, recognizing a prospective customer, sought to
subdue his grief with the usual words of consolation,--Maginn blubbering
out, "Everything must be done in the best style, no expense must be
spared,--she was worthy, and I can afford it." The undertaker, seeing
such intense grief, presented a seat, and prescribed a little brandy.
After proper resistance, both were accepted; a bottle was produced and
emptied, glass after glass, with suggested "instructions" between
whiles. At length the Doctor rose to join his wondering and impatient
friend, who soon saw what had happened. He was, even before dinner, in
such a state as to preclude all business-talk; and it is needless to add
that the contemplated arrangement was never entered into.

He lived in wretchedness, and died in misery in 1842. His death took
place at Walton-on-Thames, and in the churchyard of that village he is
buried. Not long ago I visited the place, but no one could point out to
me the precise spot of his interment. It is without a stone, without a
mark, lost among the clay sepulchres of the throng who had no friends to
inscribe a name or ask a memory.[H]

Maginn was rather under than above the middle size; his countenance was
swarthy, and by no means genial in expression. He had a peculiar
thickness of speech, not quite a stutter. Latterly, excesses told upon
him, producing their usual effects: the quick intelligence of his face
was lost; his features were sullied by unmistakable signs of an
ever-degrading habit; he was old before his time.

He is another sad example to "warn and scare"; a life that might have
produced so much yielded comparatively nothing; and although there have
be