This strong endurance of griefs so keen, and reverses so poignant may perhaps teach more strongly than a hundred homilies, that there are no afflictions which time will not soften and fortitude overcome. Let those who smile at the deduction of so trite a moral from the biography of a clown, reflect, that the fewer the resources of a man's own mind, the greater his merit in rising superior to misfortune. Let them remember too, that in this case the light and life of a brilliant theatre were exchanged in an instant for the gloom and sadness of a dull sick-room. THE END. FOOTNOTES: [95] Grimaldi for some months previous to his death frequented the coffee-room of the "Marquis of Cornwallis" Tavern in Southampton-street, Pentonville. Mr. George Cook, the proprietor, considering his infirmity, or loss of the use of his lower extremities, used to fetch him on his back, and take him home in the same manner. On the Wednesday evening, May 31st, he was brought to the coffee-room by Mr. Cook, and seemed quite exhilarated; his conversation and humour smacking of the vivacity of former years; and his anecdotes of the olden times and past events contributed a fund of amusement to those enjoying the conviviality of the night. Joe's customary beverage was a little Scotch ale, or a small quantity of gin and water, during the evening. On the inquest, Joe's housekeeper, Susannah Hill, stated that on Wednesday evening he complained to her of a tightness of the chest, and his appetite seemed not so good as usual. About half-past ten, she went to the Marquis of Cornwallis, to apprise her master that it was time to return home; and assisted him on to Mr. Cook's back. Joe, as usual, quite sober, reached home about a quarter before eleven; and on parting said to Mr. Cook, "God bless you, my boy, I shall be ready for you to-morrow night!" His housekeeper assisted Grimaldi to his bedroom, placed a light on his table, as was her custom, then retired to her bedroom. In the course of the night she was awakened by an unusual noise, similar to loud snoring in her master's room. She rose, went in, but all was then quiet, the light still burning; and she returned to her bed. Between five and six o'clock in the morning, having risen, she went into Grimaldi's room, and on approaching the bed was shocked on discovering her master a corpse. She ran for Mr. Fennill, a surgeon in the neighbourhood, who immediately attended; pronounced him quite dead; said that he had been so some hours; and that his death he had no doubt arose from natural causes. The inquest held at the Marquis of Cornwallis declared their verdict, "Died by the visitation of God."