'They (the House of Commons) exhort you by everything that calls
sublimely upon the heart of man, by the majesty of that justice which
this bold man has libelled, by the wide fame of your own tribunal, by
the sacred pledges by which you swear in the solemn hour of decision,
knowing that that decision will then bring you the highest reward that
ever blessed the heart of man, the consciousness of having done the
greatest act of mercy for the world that the earth has ever yet received
from any hand but heaven!--My Lords, I have done.'

Sheridan's valet was very proud of his master's success, and as he had
been to hear the speech, was asked what part he considered the finest.
Plush replied by putting himself into his master's attitude, and
imitating his voice admirably, solemnly uttering, 'My Lords, I have
done!' He should have added the word 'nothing.' Sheridan's eloquence had
no more effect than the clear proof of Hastings' guilt, and the
impeachment, as usual, was but a troublesome subterfuge, to satisfy the
Opposition and dust the eyeballs of the country.

Sheridan's great speech was made. The orator has concluded his oration;
fame was complete, and no more was wanted, Adieu, then, blue-books and
parties, and come on the last grand profession of this man of many
talents--that of the wit. That it was a profession there can be no
doubt, for he lived on it, it was all his capital. He paid his bills in
that coin alone: he paid his workmen, his actors, carpenters, builders
with no more sterling metal; with that ready tool he extracted loans
from the very men who came to be paid; that brilliant ornament
maintained his reputation in the senate, and his character in society.
But wit without wisdom--the froth without the fluid--the capital without
the pillar--is but a poor fortune, a wretched substitute for real worth