on Mrs. Sheridan, which
enabled her husband to set up a school. Dr. Sheridan, amongst his
virtues, could not number oeconomy; on the contrary, he was remarkable
for profusion and extravagance, which exposed him to such
inconveniences, that he was obliged to mortgage all he had. His school
daily declined, and by an act of indiscretion, he was stript of the best
living he then enjoyed. On the birth-day of his late Majesty, the Dr.
having occasion to preach, chose for his text the following words,

Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.

This procured him the name of a Jacobite, or a disaffected person, a
circumstance sufficient to ruin him in his ecclesiastical capacity. His
friends, who were disposed to think favourably of him, were for softning
the epithet of Jacobite into Tory, imputing his choice of that text,
rather to whim and humour, than any settled prejudice against his
Majesty, or the government; but this unseasonable pleasantry was not so
easily passed over, and the Dr. had frequent occasion to repent the
choice of his text.

Unhappy Sheridan! he lived to want both money and friends. He spent his
money and time merrily among the gay and the great, and was an example,
that there are too many who can relish a man's humour, who have not so
quick a sense of his misfortunes. The following story should not have
been told, were it not true.

In the midst of his misfortunes, when the demands of his creditors
obliged him to retirement, he went to dean Swift, and sollicited a
lodging for a few days, 'till by a proper composition he might be
restored to his freedom. The dean retired early to rest. The Dr.
fatigued, but not inclinable to go so soon to bed, sent the servant to
the dean, desiring the key of the cellar, that he might have a bottle of
wine. The dean, in one of his odd humours, returned for answer, he
promised to find him a lodging, but not in wine; and refused to send the
key. The Dr. being thunderstruck at this unexpected incivility, the
tears burst from his eyes; he quitted the house, and we believe never
after repeated the visit.

Dr. Sheridan died in the year 1738, in the 55th year of his age. The
following epitaph for him was handed about.

Beneath this marble stone here lies
Poor Tom, more merry much than wise;
Who only liv'd for two great ends,
To spend his cash, and lose his friends:
His darling wife of him bereft,
Is only griev'd--there's nothing left.

When the account